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puck-luck · 1 day

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calling quinn “captain” in bed and he goes feral

warnings: emosh quinn, sex as comfort HIII, masturbation (fingering), wee bit of dirty talk, riding, unprotected p in v, use of "captain" pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader summary: the one where quinn comes home after the 'nucks are knocked out of the playoffs (i am not manifesting!!) and he and his girl make up for the time missing each other. wc: 1601

The playoffs had come to an end with a simmer for the Canucks. Quinn, who had led his team to so many victories throughout the season, was headed home after game seven of the second round– just narrowly missing the finals for the Stanley Cup.

You had called him briefly after the game, but he wasn’t in the mood to talk. He had been quiet, listening to you speak about your day– a topic that he himself had requested, so unhappy with his game that he didn’t even want to acknowledge the fact that he played hockey for a living.

Listening to you talk about the book that you read that day, the walk that you had gone on with your best friend, and the annoying conversation you had to have with your boss that you hate made him feel like he was just a normal guy for a day.

Now, with him on the way home, you were ready to comfort him in any way that you could.

And it started by making him forget about his problems in the way that only you were allowed to do.

That’s why you were waiting on your couch, naked, legs spread and a finger on your clit. Quinn was due to walk through the door at any minute and the first thing you wanted him to see when he walked into his apartment was his girlfriend waiting for him.

Quinn mused about your beauty all the time, whether it was in public or just to you or just to himself. He had told you many times over the course of his relationship that though you were beautiful all the time, there was nothing like the way you looked underneath him as his cock thrust inside you.

Tonight, he would certainly be inside you. You were just hoping that you’d be the one on top of him, taking care of him, making him feel good.

The lock flipped as Quinn unlocked the door, making you perk up and tilt your head with innocent eyes at the front door.

“Hi, Q,” You greeted.

Quinn had crossed the threshold with his head down, dragging his suitcase behind him. His face was soft when he looked up at you, placated like he was happy to see you but still so, so sad. Then, his eyes fixed on your fingers, the ones that were running up and down your glistening slit.

“Hi,” Quinn replied, seeming frozen in place. His eyes darted between yours and your fingers.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” You said. You reached up to pinch a nipple between the fingers of your other hand, watching Quinn’s eyes follow your movements.

He shrugged off his jacket, toed off his shoes. “Anything in particular?” He asked.

“Been missing your cock, Q. I’ve been feeling so empty without you around to fill me up.”

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly. Quinn shifted his weight from one foot to the other, reaching up to unbutton his shirt.

As the expanse of his chest appeared to you, the light dusting of hair that you loved so much, you moaned softly and pushed a finger inside yourself. It was smaller than Quinn’s, and the angle was always weird when you fingered yourself, and it was hard to get any real pleasure without getting your other hand on your clit, but it was worth seeing the look on Quinn’s face and the way his pants tightened.

“I tried my fingers, Q. I tried my toys. They just– oh– they weren’t as good as you.”

“Fuck, I missed you,” Quinn said, crossing the room and kneeling over you. “That mouth, so dirty, baby.”

You leaned up, capturing Quinn’s soft lips with your own. The kiss was wet, both of you trying to convey just how much you had wanted each other while Quinn was gone without saying a single word. Your finger never ceased moving inside of you, although Quinn had started to rub over your clit. You worked in tandem, comfortably, making your body roll into the pressure. Your movements, and his, were slow, savoring the fact that you were together again and would be for nearly the whole off season.

“I want to ride you,” You breathed into Quinn’s mouth, so quiet that he would practically have to taste the words on his tongue to understand you.

He did, though. Of course he understood what you said. He knew immediately, with the way he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you with him as he sat back onto the couch. He fumbled with his pants, unzipping them and pulling them down his thighs just enough that they were out of the way.

You sank down on his cock as soon as he pressed it against your opening, your mouth falling open with the sensation.You panted into Quinn’s mouth as you began to lift yourself up and down.

Quinn’s hands were resting on your hips, doing nothing except acting as a presence, something to anchor you as you rose and fell on his length.

“Feel so good,” Quinn praised, transfixed by the way your hair was framing your face and the way you bit your bottom lip when you found your g-spot without his help. “Was this what you imagined while I was gone, doll?”

“Yeah, yeah,” You agreed. “Fuck, Quinn, I needed you to take care of me.”

His heart quivered in his chest at that, those words meaning more to him than so many of the things you could have said when he came home.

“I’m here,” Quinn assured you, his fingers pressing into your skin, grabbing and enveloping the shape of your hipbones. “Gonna take care of you forever.”

“So good.” You began to bounce up and down harder, more quickly, relishing in the way Quinn’s skin slapped against yours. “Q,” You whined, clutching at the muscles of his shoulder, one hand pressing against his chest. “Quinn, I’m gonna come, oh, Captain…”

All the breath flew out of Quinn like it was stolen from his lungs, squeezed like a tube of toothpaste that had just one more use left in it. It was like his vision went dark, the word echoing in his head. Captain, captain, captain.

Quinn’s hips moved of their own accord. His hands, having once rested delicately on your hips, were now clutching your ass desperately.

“My girl, fuck, need me to take charge like I do on the ice? Need your captain to fill you up ‘cuz you can’t make yourself feel good? Have I spoiled you that much?” Quinn rambled, fucking into you with earnest.

He brought one hand up to the back of your neck, pulling you flush against his chest. His hips were like a machine, fucking into you so well, so consistently. It was militant, Quinn able to play you like a violin after memorizing your body long, long ago.

You could only moan in response, the kiss of his cock against your walls, as strong as a heartbeat turning your mind to jelly. What was originally a night meant to tease Quinn, to prioritize him, had quickly devolved into a night of mind-numbing, leg-shaking pleasure for you.

“Looked so good, touching yourself when I walked in,” Quinn continued. “Such a pretty sight to walk into. You’re all mine, huh? Just needed me to come home and make you feel good? Show me what I was missing?”

“Quinn,” You whimpered.

“Captain,” He corrected.

“Captain,” You repeated, drawn out. As if hypnotized, you were willing to repeat back anything he said. “Can I come?”

Quinn groaned, gravelly in the back of his throat. He lifted you up and down to meet his thrusts, watching the way his cock disappeared inside of you. His eyes focused on the ring of your wetness around the base of his cock, the clear pool of juice that glinted on his abdomen in the light.

“Please,” You begged, your head finding the curve of his neck. “It’s so good, Cap. I need to come, please let me come.”

“Come, baby,” Quinn encouraged, his thrusts growing uncoordinated as you squeezed him. “Come with me.” With just a few more thrusts, Quinn felt himself burst, spurting inside of you. The aftershocks overtook him when you let out a sigh at the feeling of him, his warmth, filling you up in a way it hadn’t in so long that you’d missed so much.

For a few minutes, you and Quinn just basked in the feeling of being reunited with the person you loved.

“Captain,” He eventually said aloud, stating it like he was feeling out the way the word felt in his mouth. Quinn eyed you, raising a brow.

“I like the way you take care of your team,” You admitted. You reached out and toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, twirling it around your finger. “Reminds me of how you take care of me.”

Quinn’s heart flipped in a funny way, something akin to heartbreak but so much warmer. “I love you so much,” He said, forcing the words out in a way that he hoped conveyed just how genuinely he felt them.

You smiled, soft and sweet, and continued to play with his hair. You two sat there, on the couch in the presence of the other, until you lost track of time. Eventually, when you were blinking slowly and Quinn could feel your eyelashes beginning to flutter against his neck in a way that signaled your exhaustion, he picked you up and carried you to bed.

Always taking care of you.

note: ANOTHER MONDAY MORNING ONESHOT! I AM NOTHING IF NOT CONSISTENT ABOUT MONDAY MORNINGS! feeling like a fuckin pirate writing this captain shit (i love y'all and i looove reading captain kink fics (that one threesome between quinn and nico...) but i felt like a damn pirate! aye aye matey!) i'll stick to my daddy kink a-thank-yewwww also: game 4? in nash? holy shit! quinn's hair is so much darker in person and it looks so fluffy. he's pretty (and looks lost all the time) and also i never saw him make eye contact with anyone standing at the glass during warmups. also-also his tapejob on his socks was so weird? also also also: he was adjusting his gear literally every thirty seconds between whistles and no one else was– does your gear not fit, brother?

#puck-luck's fics #quinn hughes #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #nhl smut #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #andy writes anything🍄#qh43

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writingwithfolklore · 6 hours

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Tips for Moving Out for the First Time

I moved out of my parents house around 5 years ago and have since lived in four different apartments with four different combinations of roommates. And I’ve made a million mistakes. So if you’re thinking of moving out soon or have a move planned already, here’s just a few things you need to know:

1. Don’t mess with your lease

I cannot express this enough. The lease you sign is a serious legal contract. To break your lease is a genuinely big deal, and one that I didn’t take seriously enough in my first apartment. Listen, you may hear about your friends or other people sneaking in pets or an additional roommate that goes against what their lease says—I did this too, because people do it all the time and who cares as long as I pay rent on time? What started as my best friend and roommate bringing in her cat in our no-pets-allowed apartment ended in a very traumatic eviction, police involvement, and a permanent fissure in my friendship with my best friend.

Listen, I don’t want to scare you with all the gory details, but eviction is no small thing, and after that experience, I would never mess with my lease again. Even afterwards, I found landlords will always take the word of another landlord over yours. To get our next place we had to lie about our previous housing, give a fake name and number of our previous landlord, and in general it was incredibly difficult and stressful to get into a new place having to make up everything about our previous situation since we were in the wrong.

Please, don’t mess with your lease. The rules are the rules, and unfortunately landlords can make your life hell if you don’t follow them.

2. But seriously question it + know your tenant rights

On the topic of leases, read yours thoroughly to understand what rules are expected you follow, what it’s expected you’ll pay versus what’s included in the monthly rent, and when your contract begins and ends. Leases are packed full of important information, so don’t let anyone rush you through reading and understanding it, and it’s definitely a red flag if your landlord isn’t willing to talk or answer questions about it.

If your landlord told you that utilities are included in the rent, but your lease says it isn’t, question them! The lease is ultimately what rules you will follow, their word doesn’t mean much. If you need to change something, get it on paper, and don’t sign until you’re both happy with your contract.

Also do your research on your tenant rights in your city. What actions you can take if your landlord breaks your lease, what’s expected from your landlord in handling concerns of your suite/house, rent increases, what things a landlord can ask you about or not, and what is grounds for eviction (versus what they can't evict you for). Take notes for later in case you need them (but hopefully you won’t!)

3. Sign contracts with your roomies

I lived with a friend I kind of knew from school, my best friend, two best friends, and then a best friend and their friend, and no matter what my relationship to my roommates was, it was made 1 million percent better when we had a contract with each other, and had talked over and set specific rules for how we’d live together. People say don’t live with your best friends—I’d just say, don’t live with your best friends without a contract.

Sit down with your roomies, figure out who will do what chores and when, what the expectations are for sharing or not sharing groceries, cleaning supplies, dishes and other kitchen supplies, toilet paper, etc. etc., rules for having friends and partners over, noisiness, and any weird pet peeves you all have so you can avoid them with each other.

Put down everything you decide together on paper, and get everyone to sign it. It maybe seems extreme, but it’s better to do this right away than have to have a difficult and awkward conversation later about your roommate’s boyfriend who hasn’t gone home in three months and is driving up your grocery costs without adding anything to the household. Trust me on this one.

4. Get a job before you move out

Especially if you’re moving to a new city or far away from where you live currently, don’t assume you can move in first and then find a job later. Unless you have a lot of savings and you’re willing to lose it all if it comes to that, a job isn’t always guaranteed and rent money goes quick. To be safe and maintain trust with your landlord, job comes first.

(It’s also going to be a lot easier to get a place if you have a job first, landlords always ask about your work and earnings each month to make sure you’re a reliable tenant.)

I have a lot of experience in moving and finding apartments so if you want some more specific tips about actually getting a place, roommates, or anything else about the moving out process I’m happy to answer questions as best as I can! Just send em to my inbox or in the comment.

#writing community #life advice #moving out advice #tips for moving out for the first time

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spoonicksmaximus · 1 year

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Big the Cat Isn’t Real in Frontiers

In regards to Sonic Frontiers, something has been eating away at me since I completed the game, and I couldn’t find anyone else talking about it, so here I go! I understand that there have been comics released surrounding Sonic Frontiers, but I have yet to look into them, my analysis here is from the game itself, the animated prologue, and technically the Twitter Takeover, though they don’t mention Big at all from there. Sonic Frontiers Spoilers.

I legitimately believe that the Big the Cat that appears in Frontiers is not real. When Sonic first meets Big, he’s already in cyber space. Upon this encounter, I thought his random appearance was a reference to Adventure 2, in which he’d randomly appear in strange areas. Still, Knuckles, Amy, Tails and Eggman are all trapped in cyber space throughout the game, so surely Big must also be trapped as well, correct?

Sonic: “Big!? What are you doing here? HOW did you get here? What even IS here?” Big: “I dunno. I was looking for fishing spots and wound up here.”

Seems like a simple enough explanation at first. In character, at least. On top of that, much like everyone else (excluding Eggman), he has his own “memory tokens,” which in this case translated to Purple Coins, solidifying he was definitely, probably, trapped in cyber space.

Yet, by the end of the game, I couldn’t help but notice that Big was not with the cast of characters leaving the island.

In fact, we never saw him get sucked into cyber space in the first place. There’s proof that everyone else was seen in the PROCESS of being trapped, except for Big. Eggman went into a forest, did a thing and it immediately backfired before the game had a chance to begin, Tails, Amy and Sonic were all on the Tornado when they got trapped, and Knuckles got his own animated prologue justifying his reason for being here.

Big, on the other hand, did not. All we get is a line of dialogue claiming he did.

It also became known to us that cyber space is a collection of data pulled from the users’ memories.

Sonic: “Yo, so did Cyber Space actually interact with my brain?” Sage: “It was designed to catalogue neural networks, among other things, so yes.” Sonic: “Alright, hear me out: do you think all those locations I visited were pulled from my memories?” Sage: “That is plausible. It imported the data of your memories and applied it to your surroundings so you could comprehend them.” Granted, Sage is technically speaking hypothetically herself, but knowing how Sonic lore works, we have to take this as canon information. Taking this at face value, we have to assume the cyber space we visit as Sonic is pulled from his brain.

Which is why it’s strange that at the end of the game, or DURING the game, Big is never technically mentioned outside of his fishing spaces. It would also explain why things like ring boxes

or springs

appear in the virtual lake at all. These are from Sonic’s memories!

You could also argue that being the reason why some of the things you catch look... well...

... strange, to say the least. (Sega’s turning the frogs gay, huh?)

If this is still all in Sonic’s perception, it’d also make sense as to why the blue-ringed octopus or the anglerfish look radically bigger than their real-world counterparts.

Could it just be that Sega didn’t do their aquatic homework? Like they didn’t do their basic research on hedgehogs or on geology/astronomy? I refuse to believe that completely preposterous outlook. Sonic saw a picture of an anglerfish and an octopus, and just like ME at AGE 5, assumed they must be the roughly the size of a bear. (Side note, I’m aware that some anglerfish can grow up to 3 feet, and Sonic’s 3 feet, but this is still an absurd size comparison).

That said, there are still things like the Hermit scrolls that occasionally show up, and Big literally sells you Eggman’s diary memos. One could argue, those things literally couldn’t be in Sonic’s memories. However, cyber space is a communal space. Apparently you can find out information from just about anyone in there.

Tails: “While you were online it opened up a flood of data. It was way too much to process, but I did get a glimpse of the Ancients’ personal data.”

Based on this evidence, we can turn to Big, and question his role in Frontiers. He’s a merchant, he’s kind of a punchline, and he provides a break from typical gameplay (also a way to skip obnoxious memory token grinding sessions).

There’s... no reason for him to NOT leave cyber space. His presence in each fishing spot doesn’t suggest he is benefitting from his stay, nor is it assumed that he enjoys his time there. So why doesn’t he leave with them? Big simply tells Sonic that he was looking for fishing spots and ended up in cyber space. However, cyber space recreates itself for Sonic so that he could comprehend it. The Big we spend time with is very likely to be Sonic’s idea of Big, his memory of Big, or cyber space’s excuse to grant Sonic data. It could even be The End/spooky sky voice’s way of forcing Sonic to progress, disguising itself as Big, however my only evidence for that claim is during Sonic’s corruption, Big is not seen anywhere trying to assist Sonic. Even Eggman was there, not helping, but present.

Other than that, that theory is a stretch, even by my standards.

In any case, it was odd to me that Big was totally ignored throughout the game. He’s by no means the most popular character, but if we are to assume it IS the real Big, why would they leave him in cyber space? Why wouldn’t Sonic attempt to free him as well, or at the very least talk about him with other characters?

It may seem like Big is just a wacky character, who just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time as usual. But if that was all there is to it, why is this such a... Big... Mystery? Thank you for reading out my entire existential crisis. Please have a wonderful rest of your day. Play Frontiers, it’s fun.

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lesbiansanemi · 4 months

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Gay trans men be normal about women challenge. Especially trans women and lesbians

#why are they so misogynistic. like why. lol. lmao even. it's infuriatingly hysterical #and not just misogyny in general #the TRANSMISOGYNY??????#lord. god. dear fucking jesus it's goddamn horrendous #also genuinely one of THE MOST lesbophobic groups of ppl i have ever had the displeasure of interacting with #the disdain for women hidden behind 'well i'm not a woman nor attracted to them uwu it's okay to talk about how awful and gross and terribl #they all are. also i will accuse all of them for being either transphobic or a misandrist or both if they confront me about this'#'because i am trans and a minority group so therefore i can never be wrong uwu'#insane behavior #the way so many of them view afab nonbinary ppl as Women Lite because if you're not a binary trans man who wants to pass as cis perfectly #you are irrelevant and can have no opinions on trans topics or experience transphobia or identify it #crazyyyyyyyyyyyy #don't even get me started on the 'transandrophobia truthers' just admit you can't handle trans women being the main topic of conversation f #for once. not even in discussions over their fucking oppression #and don't even get me started on the internalized shit. like not just the misogyny but honestly this weird brand of transphobia #and homophobia too. it's fucking wild #once again. lol. lmao even.#sorry i saw some stupid shit this morning (and it's been building for a while) and I want to bitch. i'm tired. i'm so fucking tired #it's such a trend i have seen in this group of ppl #OBVIOUSLY i know they are not all like this but GODDAMN a lot of them are #and any time someone tries to point out any issues with the community they're just accused of being a bigot. whatever x-phobia is convenien #to cry at the time #okay i'll shut up now #kaz rambles

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bloominstorm · 2 years

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Wakui really tryna make me stop slandering Mikey out here.

#like…ok listen tht chapter was sad af #the thing about Mikey is tht I always gave him some grace because he clearly went through shit to turn out how he did #and he knew he had issues but he still tried to be as good as he could with the morals he learned from the important ppl in his life #it was interesting to see that despite Mikey’s parents being in his life for a short period of time they still had such a significant impact #on him like the way he latched into being strong because his father appeared to be strong and because of the way his mother talked about him #he wanted to be more like his father #also interesting to note is that Mikey doesn’t seem to have his own identity? i used to scoff at ppl who made theories about him not knowing #who he truly is but this proves it because he adopts the character traits of ppl he cares about #he did so with his dad his brother Baji draken izana (funnily enough) etc in the future timelines #the relationship his mom had with his dad was odd tho #were they married.. were they still together when he died because if so tht means he cheated on her a little bit before he died since Emma #is a year younger than Mikey but the mom still talked about him like she loved him and even accepted Emma since Emma seemed genuinely hurt #over her death - I will say the mom was a bit ..weird why would you only talk about his father when you’re talking to your kid? why not #talk about yourself or talk to Mikey about things other than being strong I understand he was fixated on strength but she could’ve stirred #it away from being the constant topic of conversation when they talked like how he’s doing and how he can take care of himself mentally #she was good in telling him that being strong doesn’t mean you don’t cry tho #also something odd I noted was how Mikey said he hated weak guys who cried easily like…? thts literally shinichiro #and you made it seem like everything you did was as a result of your brother and tht you admired him so much #thts literally the only reason he cared about takemichi 😭 I just find it weird because by tht point shinichiro was the main one taking care #of him and Emma while in a gang and inspired him to be in a gang yet he hated ppl like him and seemed to even after seeing shinichiro lead #his own gang..#now onto the whole sanzu and Baji thing again I believe Wakui is shoehorning Sanzu into Mikey’s story because he was supposedly there from #the beginning yet wasn’t considered to be in the original toman and wasn’t close to Mikey like Baji was or draken was who he met later on #he can’t be like Mikey asked sanzu and he refused bc we see sanzu is up his ass so why wouldn’t he do it?#he can spin it like he thought sanzu was weak tho but again it wouldn’t make sense because how he was when he came in contact with Takemichi #would show he didn’t care and would be open to it - it just makes no sense #but whatever I wanna see how this goes because now we’re seeing Draken’s reintroduction and I can’t wait to see how he positively impacted #Mikey just like he did with mitsuya #tokyo revengers spoilers #Tokyo revengers 263

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nicoliine · 3 months

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The day you noticed Lucifer was using his wings to court you.

☆彡 In birds, there is a great variety of nuptial displays at the time of courtship, especially in species that have melodious songs or show very striking plumage.

Little did you know, this would include angels or the king of hell himself.

☆ English isn't my first language. Sorry in advance.

☆ The reader is g/n; no pronouns or y/n are used.

You were always fond of birds, and you dedicated much of your life to helping preserve endangered species. You studied them, spent countless hours learning about the hundreds of species, a lot of diets and their behaviors.

This didn’t seem to stop once you found yourself in Hell; in fact, once you discovered there were a bunch of sinners with bird-like features, you just seemed content to be there.

When you arrived at the Hazbin hotel, you claimed one of the spare rooms as your personal studio, and after what you have called "the toughest battle in your life," you convinced Alastor to let you have a camera "as long as you never get that frivolous technology box near me."

Husk had to ask you not so politely to stop when you first met. Before you could even take his hand, you had started to ask questions about their wings; sometimes you even wrote on an oh-so-worn notebook of yours; it became a common topic of discussion between the two of you. When you forget he has work to do and start to take multiple pictures of his wings and even try to take one of his wings when he is not looking, Angel starts to think that your bartender friend is about to lose it, and you will end with a scratch or two.

Besides that, one could say that your presence in the hotel was appreciated; you could be found watching some funny shows on TV with Angel and never saying no to Vaggie when she asked for a favor. Soon, you started to feel part of the hotel, and the rest of the staff agreed with that.

☆◦ •◦☆

Lucifer was nothing like any man you had met in life or hell; he was, to put it simply, an awkward guy, always so silly yet so elegant. He had managed to get you longing for his presence more often than you would like to admit.

You are not sure how you and Lucifer became friends, but having a shared interest in ducks seemed to help. You gave him all kinds of facts about them, and he would step by your room every so often to show you the new rubber duck he was working on. Not that you're complaining, but one of his ducks set your courtains on fire on an occasion.

Charlie says that she is proud of his "social advances,” as she used to call your interactions. Seeing him out of his office more often and having an actual conversation with someone seems to make the princess happy and less worried about her father, and if that someone turns out to be you, it is so much better!

☆◦ •◦☆

The first time you noticed this weird behavior of his was the day you two met. You couldn’t help but mention, after his bickering with Alastor over who was Charlie’s father figure, that you found his wings precious. Lucifer, being the prideful man he is, wasted no time on extending his wings only for your delight, a smirk on his face as he saw your eyes wide admiring that part of him; they were so magnificent, you could swear they were shining in the light of the room, and you'd die to see if the feathers were as soft as they seemed.

Just a simple touch, please.

Before returning his wings to their place, there was a flutter of his wings, so slow that there was no way someone could notice.

But you weren't just someone; you knew it. What a coincidence! You could recap an article about some birds courtship.

The second time you saw it, you were in your room minding your own business. He came to you with a smile, but your eyes were looking past him, his wings on full display as he greeted you. There, his wings started flutter again, now lasting more than the last time. Now there is no way it was just a coincidence. “My eyes are up here, darling,” he said, that smirk on his face turning into a pout as you were not paying him enough attention. You just shake your head, focus on the man before you, returning your full attention to him, and the pout on his lips dissapears immediately as your eyes are on him.

☆◦ •◦☆

You are getting crazy; every time you get a glimpse of him, you find his wings moving in an oh-so-familiar way that you could swear it was a courtship dance, every time bolder than before.

That is when you decided to confront him, getting just a chuckle from him. It made you think maybe it was just your imagination, and you finally lost your mind.

While sitting on the hotel balcony, Lucifer was telling you one of his ideas for this new rubber duck. He said it would be the best one he would work on so far, even though you doubted that. Then you stopped listening, your eyes fixated on his wings. Every time he looked at you, they would flutter not so subtly, distracting you from everything around you. Your head rested on your palm, almost feeling bad for not listening to his rambling.

"Luci, you're courting me." It was supposed to be a question, but by the way the king of hell stopped his rambling and, looking at you with wide eyes, you found that maybe it was not.

"And what would make you think that?" He said mocking you, he also rested his head in one of their hands.

"Your wings, the way you move them," you pointed to his wings; they stopped his movements when you mentioned it; he just chuckled, then started to laugh. Was he laughing at you? It made you want to hide yourself from him; was it your imagination? No way.

"So you finally notice," he then said. Once his laugh was gone, he adjusted himself on his seat. Now, with both of his hands holding his face and looking at you with a smirk, his wings started to flutter once more. "I thought it would take you less time, may I be honest"

"Actually, I noticed it long ago; I thought it was just my—" You felt the air leaving your lungs once he got on his feet and moved closer to you. "...Just my imagination." You were not strange to his proximity, but this time he just looked so imponent, wings on full display and fluttering around. Now it was definitely a courtship dance, and you were on the receiving end.

"Now, what do you think?" He hovered over you who still sitting, a hand resting on the back of your seat, taking one of your hands on his and kissing your knuckles. The kiss lasted longer than you thought was the average time for one, and even then he didn’t let go of your hand. "Was my dance enough to impress you, darling?" Now, looking into his eyes, you could only see adoration, awaiting your response.

You couldn't speak; you can't imagine the king of hell pulling up something like this for you.

"My dear, please talk to me," he pleaded, a sigh leaving his lips as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. You could feel his warm breath in your skin, burning like hellfire.

"It was," you said, Lucifer now turning his face to look at you. You took his face in your hands and moved him closer, he gave you an inquisitive look but with no intention to move from your touch. "I should have mentioned it earlier; it was quite impressive." You smiled, and he did the same.

Now, how long you two kissed, you also don't remember; what you remember, however, is how he held you against him as if you were just about to disappear right then, and that when you finally got to touch his wings, you were proved wrong.

His feathers were much softer than you have imagined.

This idea came to me yesterday when my dad showed me a reel of a lady bird who epically ignored the male who was dancing to her, I felt so bad and immediately thought about Lucifer.

Likes and reblogs are appreciated 💞

#hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #Why did this took me so long?#nicolines

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crowcryptid · 1 year

Text

This week was so calm and peaceful cause my stupid ass coworkers weren’t here. And by that I mean they showed up, clocked in, and disappeared and got paid to do??? Whatever it is that they do. I assume walk around. Or sit outside. For like 6 hours a day. They only come back to have lunch.

But today they decided to stay, not working of course, cause the new hires can do all your work for you. Do I really care that they’re not doing anything? Eh. I’ve gotten used to them being completely unreliable and I prefer when they’re not here. Cause them being here=noise. It’s annoying that they keep complaining that “young people don’t work” when they are literally not doing anything. But I’ve grown so used to them doing fuck all that it doesn’t bother me anymore. They can leave. They should leave.

What bothers me is that when they aren’t working they cannot shut the fuck up. Oh my god. Shut up.

I don’t understand why can’t they just go somewhere else. They did it all week. Why not today. Gtfo. There’s plenty of places to sit and be as loud as you want outside. And the reason for not going outside can’t be to avoid the heat because they keep it way too warm in here. I’m sitting perfectly still and I’m sweating. Which is another reason why I want them to leave so I can turn on the damn air. And yes I’ve tried to turn it on when they’re here and they turn it off not even 10 mins later cause “it’s too cold”.

#my particular brand of weirdness makes being the same room as another person uncomfortable #but being trapped in here with 3 people who can’t shut up?????? bricks in your head. now. now. now. now.#I’m going cwazy #the 3rd one isn’t even a coworker she’s just their friend who comes over. meaning she also isn’t doing whatever her job is.#they talk about like 6 topics in total #1) I hate my kids. 2) food. 3) party/casino. 4) health issues. 5) I hate young people. 6) giving each other ‘life advice’#the ‘life advice’ is all terrible cause they’re all dumb as rocks tho #I’m going cwazy I’m going cwazy I’m going cwazy #need. them. to. shut. up.#pls I need you to imagine you are at a latino party but all they’re talking about is how much they hate anyone younger than them #this is essentially what it is #I specify latino party cause it’s all in Spanish and they think I can’t understand them #so there is no filter over what they say #also they’re loud. so loud. this is such a small room and it really only should be an office for 1 #and you’ve got 4 people in here #*hands on head* I need to blow them up #also for context I’m trying to study and they know I’m trying to study #they just have 0 respect to not be loud as fuck #like. please. they can see I’m reading shit and taking notes can you NOT be yelling at the person 4 ft away from you #can you just talk normally. please. I don’t care if it’s the same stupid conversation just . shh. ok. shh. cut the volume by 2/3 #can you tell I’m losing it. can you tell.

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love-bitesx · 10 months

Note

I loveeeedd the last story Tysm ❤️❤️❤️ Keep up the amazing work 🌈

I have another request

Hobie x fem spider reader

Reader has a weird stalker ex-bf, and the reader tries to keep it a secret from Hobie but he finds out and deals with the ex.

: ̗̀➛ STALKER. hobie brown x fem!reader

any criminal minds fans out there … i hope u see the parallels of my baby spencer also i'm so sorry, i didn't see until after i wrote this entire thing that you said 'fem spider reader' so it's a fem normal reader, so sorry! i hope it's still okay, tho!! thank u sm for ur support angel !! summary: hobie & y/n have been doing long distance for months, but she never told him exactly why. words: 2.8k (the words just kept coming, sorry its so long lmao) warnings: fem!reader, pronouns not really used but "my girl", "lady", etc. are, read at your own risk! weird stalker bf, creepy fella, hobie n y/n are long distance, very very soft hobie

“when can i call you next, darlin’?” hobie’s voice was laced with longing, bass distorted by static at the other end of the phone.

“if you’re quick, we can call tomorrow after 5,” you smiled, and if you were in an 80’s romcom, you’d be twisting the phone cord between your fingers.

“5pm it is, don’t be late,” you can hear his smirk, and a bolt of guilt strikes your chest.

“look, i need to ask something, and i think i already know the answer,” hobie speaks, and you bite your lip in anticipation, “the band and i are playing at a new venue tomorrow, it’s the biggest we’ve played, we’re all dead excited, and…”

a sigh.

“well, it won’t feel the same without you there, pretty.”

if the first bolt wasn’t enough, then the second one lived up to it, striking you into the dead center of your heart. it had been well over 6 months since you met hobie. well, “met”. you’d accidentally called the wrong number one day, meaning to contact a friend of a friend, but typing the last number wrong. picking up at the other end was a deep, almost mesmerising voice, telling you; “no bother, darlin’. it happens, just make sure not to lose this number, wanna hear more from ya.”

“hobie, you know i can’t,” your voice is brimming with remorse and you look to the ground.

“i know, shit with your parents, i get it," he tried hard to hide the disappointment, but his heart twanged with neglect and it creeped through into his words.

parents. strict, all-demanding 'parents'. that's what you told hobie when you first started dating, that the reason you aren't able to see him was because your mother was overbearing and extremely protective – it was a lie. a lie that was eating you up from the inside out. the truth was slightly more grim, however.

years ago, you got involved with a guy at work. a couple brief conversations turned into dates, and dates turned into anniversaries, anniversaries turned into toxic, violent arguments and after a long time of dating, you broke up with him. to say he took it badly, was a criminal understatement. threatening phone calls, showing up at your work, sending you gifts and menacing letters – his signature move was scaring off, and even once harming, any man or potential love interest that you interacted with. it was exhausting, and terrifying.

and hobie was different. he was sweet and kind, but rough around the edges, and his voice dripped in passion no matter the topic of conversation. his promises were never empty, and most importantly – he loved you. and you loved him. the last thing you wanted, was your ex to pop up and scare him off, so you kept it from him. limiting your relationship to phone calls at arranged times incase your ex was keeping tabs.

“i’m sorry, hobie,” is all you could muster, not even scratching the tip of the catastrophic iceberg that wedged the back of your throat.

“it’s okay, darlin’, don’t worry that pretty little head over it,” and just like every phone call, you melted into his words, “i love you, yeah? i’ll call you tomorrow at 5.”

“i’ll be waiting,” you smiled, cheeks flushed at his gentle affirmations, “i love you.”

with a ruckus of movement, and what sounded like a kiss, the call ended, and you stared at the screen silently for a moment. not much longer could you avoid it, and the malten bubble of dread spilled into your gut.

sending him a quick text:

‘good luck tomorrow, handsome. what’s the venue called again? you’ll do amazing x’

you turned off your phone, discarding it on the bed as you climbed into the hole of guilt you’d dug yourself.

“oi, you ready, blud?” hobie’s band mate yelled above the bustle and cheers from the crowd before them. large, bejewelled hands poised onto his guitar strings, he smirked.

“always.”

with a nod to the roadie, the lights went up, illuminating the stage and instruments, hobie's glowing with a harsh red tint. immediately, his sepia eyes digested the crowd. seeing the flushed, excitable faces staring back at him sent a shot of confidence to his bones, and they moved, strumming the guitar with such vigor that the stage floor shook beneath his feet. cheers erupted, and yet felt oddly empty. it was missing something, and he knew what it was immediately.

he'd truly give his all to have you there, front stage in his eyeline, screaming his songs like gospel. not that he'd ever seen you properly, only seeing teasing selfies you'd sent him over the months you'd been together. he didn't care, inherently, he'd fallen head over heels for your personality; a pretty face was only just a bonus.

however, he did yearn for your touch. to feel his hands in your hair, to kiss your cheek, your nose, your neck. he longed to have you with him, even just doing stupid little tasks, having you by his side through the domestic side of life.

his gall spurred him on, his passion surging through his fingertips, spilling out into the sound waves. the audience were lapping it up, screams and chants only barely audible under the booming power of their set. song, after song, after song his talented blood seeped out onto the strings, and his feet were almost numb from the vibration of the bass.

the final song arrived, and his chest was burning, vision blurry, heart pounding against his chest – and he loved it. it was their biggest crowd, their most excitable achievement so far, and his blood pumped with adrenaline as he finished off the set, falling to his knees as he strum his guitar with one final chord. lights falling, his chest was heaving and his eyes scanned the audience one final time – you weren’t there. he had to accept that.

“that was fuckin’ sick, blud!” his bassist yelled as they exited the stage, palm slapping hobie’s shoulder blade and elicited a wide, ecstatic grin.

“you smashed it, mate,” hobie shouted back over the booming stereo that took their place.

“nah, man, you stole the show,” his bassist shook his head, patting him again in appreciation, “good that your lady’s here to see it, too, she must be proud.”

“i wish, mate,” he sighed.

“did you not see her?” his ears perked up, and at his confused expression, his bandmate continued, “over at the back, by the bar, i didn’t know what she looked like, but she was asking after you. ‘er story adds up.”

"shit," he mutters, feet solid on the ground. his heart pounds, skeptical of your presence, but chest bursting with hope that it just might be you, "look, bro, i need to–"

"go! go, man, go see her," his bandmate pushes him in the direction of the bar, and he almost stumbles over his own feet to push the stage door open, met with the chaos of the crowded bar.

dark eyes scanning the aimless faces, he searched for anyone who could look like you; his stature brought him above everyone else, only by a little, but gave him an advantage to seek you out.

"sorry, i need to get past," he repeated, over and over to unassuming bodies, setting through the chaos to find his peace. pushing out at the back, a wave of light met him, shining through empty pint glasses and illuminating the bar.

there you were.

standing quietly, head nodding along to the blasting instrumentals, drink in hand; you were heart-stopping. and he was pretty sure his did. even if he’d never seen you face-to-face, he’d memorised the soft plump of your lips, alluring light in your eyes, even the way your hair fell against your skin from the photos he'd seen. there was no doubt it was you, and my god, you were beautiful. he couldn’t even stop his legs if he tried, as they carried him over to you.

"y/n?" his voice barely travelled through the sound waves, but it hit your ear like a familiar embrace.

turning to him, eyes wide and bright in the twinkling of the bar lights. you drunk him in, warm eyes swallowing every part of him. you'd seen pictures, again, but it could never compare to him. dark brown skin, soft to its complexion, hugged his bones in every perfect way; folding at the creases of his handsome face. he was tall, very tall, and the detail of the curves and indents of his muscles, altered by the shadows of the dim bar light, made your head fuzzy. god, he was beautiful – nothing that a digital screen could ever portray with justice.

"hobie," your voice was crisper than he was used to, and he would bottle it if he could, "hey, handsome, you got a–"

"come 'ere," he interrupted, essentially scooping you into his tense embrace, melting into your scent, the feel of you in his arms. his heart was pounding against his chest. you wrapped yourself around him, running your hands along his leather jacket, ghosting the skin below it.

"you interrupted my introduction," you pouted against his shoulder, "had a whole little joke planned and everything, you know."

"go on, hit me, love," he pulled back a tiny bit, his arms still glued around your waist, looking down through his lashes. you faltered under his intense gaze, giddy smile bursting onto your face and you buried your head in his chest.

"nuh uh, not anymore," you shook your head against him, "you ruined it."

his hand came up to touch your face whilst you spoke, following the edge of your hairline and tucking your hair around your shoulder. he was in awe, having you here, having you with him. tightening his embrace, he didn't want to let you go – ever.

"mhmm," his voice vibrated his chest, and you pulled away, "i'm sure it was hilarious, love."

"it really was," you chuckled, giddy in his presence.

the air grew thicker, your laughter dying out and left with just his strong gaze, his dark brown eyes following yours. you could barely comprehend him being here, in front of you, around you, and he was so much more than you had imagined. feeling his calloused hand caress your cheek, you leaned into his touch, inviting him into your world. cupping your face, hobie bought himself to you, leaning down until his pierced lips were ghosting your own. months he'd dreamed of this, imagined how it would feel to kiss his girl, to taste your lips and feel your love. he could feel your breath, and you were about to give in, until you pulled away.

"wait, i–" you swallowed thickly, pulling your touch from him.

"what's up, darlin'?" his eyes scanned your face for any sign of reason, "did i do somethin'?"

"no! no, you," you sighed, "you're perfect, it's not you."

he'd be lying through his teeth if he denied the pit of anxiety building deep in his stomach, bubbling up his throat.

"what is it?"

"i–" you stuttered again, and fought to get your words out of your brain and into the thick air of the bar, "i haven't been telling you the truth."

silence. just for a second. hobie's brain working over time.

"look, if you've got another fella, or somethin', just get it over with–"

"no! no, hobie, i'm yours, i promise," your words settled him for a second.

"my parents don't care about us, they aren't strict, in fact, they were happy when i told them about you," you begun, opening the dam.

"they know about me?" his voice was smaller than you were used to, and if your brain had a spare synapse to process it, you'd probably have melted.

"yes, and i'm sorry i haven't told you," you avoided his eyes, "it's my ex."

"oh, fuckin' 'ell," he sighed, dropping his arms to his side, and he's about to speak, until you interrupt.

"we broke up years ago, but he's never left me alone," you ring your wrists with your hands nervously, and hobie notices – you looked terrified, "i've tried everything; i've tried the police, i've moved countless times, i've changed jobs, made new friends, met new people – he won't leave me be."

tears welled up now, and his heart reached for you, but his arms stayed stuck by his side.

"every guy that i meet, he's, i don't know, calling them telling them i'm someone i'm not, or following them home and slashing tires, or roughing them up outside pubs," paranoia enveloped you, and your eyes darting around the crowd, "i was so scared, because you're the best i've ever had, and probably will ever have, and i don't want him to scare you off."

"y/n–"

"and i understand if this has done exactly what i'm scared of, because i get that keeping it from you was awful, but i was only trying to protect you and–"

his lips cut you off, warm against your own, capturing your words and pushing them back down your throat. hands on your cheeks, body flush against your own, you melted into him completely. it felt like heaven, like months of tension and longing unravelling like ribbon into the wind. it was safe, gentle, like a promise – a promise that it didn't scare him, and that he was yours.

"is he here?" his voice was low, lips hovering yours.

"i-i don't know," you were flustered, your brain trying to make sense of it all, but his hand on the small of your back stopped any cognitive thoughts, "i haven't seen him."

watching him, hobie's dark eyes floated around the crowd, before falling back onto you. smirk on his lips, he placed a quick peck onto your cheek.

"hmm, i hope he enjoyed the show," he chuckled lowly, and you couldn't help but mimic it, relief flooding off your shoulders, "how about we go somewhere a bit safer?"

"like where?" you questioned, intrigued by the coaxing tone of his voice.

"well, i only live around the corner," he shrugged, before offering his hand. blushing, you slipped your hand into his, the soft skin of his fingers pulling you towards him, until he threw his arm around your shoulder.

"nothing could scare me off, you know," he whispered, placing a kiss to your hair, "i'm 'ard as nails."

"oh yeah?" you giggled.

"mhmm."

clothed eyes glued to the suspicious figure, hobie stood on a rooftop, footsteps silent as he follows the man below. tailing him through the cobbled back lanes of london, hobie's back tingled with apprehension – he'd been following him for at least a mile, waiting for a perfect opportunity.

and he'd finally found it.

pausing his heavy stroll, the man dug into his pockets and pulled out a slightly crushed pack of cigarettes, fumbling further for a lighter. a small orange glow lit up the air around him as he puffed away, smoke fluttering to meet hobie's nose.

silently, hobie swung to a platform below, pulling his guitar tighter against his back and dropped to the hard ground. the sound of his leather boots colliding with the cobble made the man turn in his direction, eyes wide at the sight.

"spiderman?" the man breathed between puffs, voice hoarse, "can i help you?"

"you know what, i think you can," hobie strutted, hands stuffed into his leather jacket, lanky stance towering him, "are you y/n's ex fella?"

"who's asking?" he questioned stupidly, and hobie let out a laugh.

"bruv, who's– are you stupid or somethin'?" hobie punched him lightly in the shoulder, "do you not see the whole get up?"

"the fuck have you got to do with y/n?" he spat, defensive stance taking over his body.

"none of your business," hobie knew that would sting, "but you're gonna leave her alone, fella."

"you don't know what you're talking about."

"i'm not askin', mate," hobie stepped closer, "and i'm not givin' you a choice."

before he could even utter a response, hobie had swung his spike-studded arm in his direction, knuckles colliding against the pathetic man's jaw, knocking him to the ground below.

"tha's my girl you're messin' with now."

#hobie brown #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x reader #spiderpunk #spider punk x you #spider punk x reader #spider punk #hobie #hobie my beloved #atsv hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie x reader #across the spiderverse #hobie x you #across the spider verse spoilers

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runa-falls · 4 months

Text

cocktails

gif from @pirateherokillian

pairing: jake lockley x shy!reader

summary: you finally gain enough courage to make a move on your best friend

cw: explicit (18+), dub-con (reader is tipsy), afab!reader, dry humping to piv pipeline, fingering, multiple orgasms, longing/pining losers, love (?), push-over!jake, needy!reader, 'just the tip' is never just the tip, alcohol consumption, pet names, daddy kink, creampie, fluff :3 -- not beta-read

wc: 5.1k

a/n: pls, it was never supposed to be this long. i'm sorry for taking FOREVER to write this. anyways, this is based off my blabbering in discord -- i dedicate this to my whores (affectionate) <3

mk masterlist | main masterlist

----

You don’t drink.

At least not in front of Jake.

Alcohol makes you…indulgent, to say the least, and that’s a side you’ve been holding back from your best friend.

Yes, you’ve had a drink or two at some group hangouts in the past, but this, you, Jake, and a few bottles of gifted wine, surprisingly has never happened in the past. You’ve made sure of it.

What almost makes it worse is that Jake’s always been a sweetheart about your choices to avoid drinking around him. After your first few bouts of excuses and timid declines, he doesn’t pressure you to keep up with him when he’s knocking back shots or drinking pitchers of beer.

Whenever your other friends press another drink into your hand, he subtly takes it for you, drinking it in large gulps before returning the glass from your hand. And when he pulls away, his fingers always find a way to graze against yours. Thankfully the bars are usually dimly lit so he can’t see the blush heating at your cheeks.

He doesn’t realize it’s because of him. He’s the reason bartenders give you weird looks when you ask for watered-down vodka cranberries or why you’re always the last one standing in your friend group whenever you go out. This restraint around alcohol has gone on for years all because you harbor an intense attraction for your best friend.

It didn’t start that way. He crashed into your quiet life and obliterated the dynamics of your friend group. When you first met him, you thought his cocky and blasé attitude was overcompensating for something.

He’s always been a natural sweet talker, not afraid to approach people and get what he wants, but it seemed too good to be true. He’s too charismatic, too interested in the dull life you live, how did he dig out a hole and place himself so easily in your life?

Easily, too easily, you fell for his sweet words, words that would inevitably draw you into his orbit and leave you hanging off of every syllable.

You learned that no matter what he says, or does, he’s just being friendly. He’s just like that with everyone. It means nothing when he gives you a cheeky grin from across the bar or when he consistently insists on walking you home at night. Sure, he might stick closer to your side than anyone else's, but it’s just because you’re best friends. Right?

Of course, girls have tried and failed to lock down your best friend, misinterpreting his outgoing personality as him propositioning them. And they always come to you – whining over his lack of interest, the sudden and unexpected rejection of their advances, and grappling for any advice from his girl best friend.

“He’s single, isn’t he?” The words are said over the thin rim of a martini glass. She glances over at you with hopeful eyes framed by beautifully dark lashes.

You barely knew the girl’s name, but she offered to buy you a drink (a shirley temple) so you stayed for the conversation, however, you weren’t expecting the topic to circle back to Jake. But after watching her down a couple of martinis, gushing more and more about the man you’ve been pining after for an eon, you felt too bad to leave her.

“Um…as far as I know.” It’s a little uncomfortable, talking about Jake like you’re his keeper.

“Then – then why won’t he go out – or even hook up with me?” Her voice has gotten louder with the exasperation of her inquiries. You look around at the bar, hoping she can keep it together before you’re kicked out for causing a ruckus.

“Look, I don’t know if I’m the best –”

“But you’re his best friend, right?”

“Yes, but –”

“What’s his type?”

His type?

God, you wish you knew. It would make things a lot easier for yourself (and the world). But you genuinely don’t know. You’ve never seen him with a girl. Sure, he could be hooking up on the side, but why would he tell you?

You look down at your glass. All that’s left is ice, melting into an amalgam of pink-tinted liquid around the one maraschino cherry you refuse to eat.

“I don’t know.” You mumble.

—

You’re already through a bottle and a half, lounging comfortably on the overstuffed couch in your living room. Something is playing on the TV but it’s all a blur behind the feeling of his thigh pressing against yours.

Jake has never been afraid of showing his affection through physical means, whether it’s greeting ladies with a friendly peck on the cheek or ruffling one of the guy’s hair when he goes by. It’s natural to him. Casual.

But with you, he’s mostly hands-off.

It’s not that you deign to feel his touch, to feel the scratchiness of his whiskers rub against the edge of your hairline, or lower against the sensitive skin of your throat, you just can’t control your reactions when he does it. Even the light touch of his hand against your lower back when he guides you has you standing straighter.

He noticed your strong reactions to him and backed off, assuming you were uncomfortable or unused to friendly touches. And it was fine until you would do anything to feel him against you again, just one more time. It’s desperate, really, but you don’t really care when he looks at you with those cocoa-butter eyes.

And now, he’s closer than ever but still hands-off. He politely sits next to you, one arm slung over the back of the couch and the other in his lap. But not touching you.

He’s been making commentary about the dumb hallmark movie you impulsively rented, pointing out all the unrealistic plot conveniences and bright red flags that the main character blatantly ignores. He seems relaxed.

You aren’t.

Two stained wine glasses sit on the coffee table, dangerously close to the edge, still holding a sip of liquid. You can barely make out the intricate print of his lips on the edge of the cup, highlighted by the brightness of the hallmark snow scene.

You want so badly to steal the glass away and lick up the residual bitter-sweetness of the wine that’s touched his lips. To taste him, even indirectly. Or directly. Lick the sweetness straight from the source, tongue intermingling with him as he takes just as much from you. You feel yourself pulse from that image alone.

“Bunny?” Heat prickles against the back of your neck as you realize how far away your brain is, thinking such filthy and depraved thoughts of the man who is sitting right next to you.

He dotes on you like a person would their favorite pet cat. He calls you pet names, ones that make you bite your tongue and hide your face in your hands. Bunny was the first one and the one he uses the most.

It came out of nowhere, really. You were both at a small house party and Jake convinced you to join his team in a game of beer pong. You were still a bit nervous around him, still surprised when he’d seek you out for a conversation or to get your opinion on something entirely irrelevant.

You told him upfront that your hand-eye coordination leaves much to be desired, but he was determined to teach you. The first few throws were pitiful, so pitiful, in fact, that the other team gave you a freebie to make up for it.

“Here, lemme give you a hand.” You couldn’t even react before he was sidled behind you, his chest nearly flush against your shoulder as his hand wrapped around your wrist. Your body is frozen, soaking in the overwhelming closeness.

You can barely decipher the individual cups of beer with his voice low behind your ear as he directs you, “Keep it right….there” He lets go of your arm and you already miss his touch, “and put a little more power into your throw.”

He steps back, giving you space to take a breath and refocus.

You throw it, more mechanical than you would’ve liked, but it – miraculously – goes in.

Immediately you turn around to get his reaction, the praise that you secretly crave from a man you barely know.

He grins down at you, “You’re a natural, bunny.”

And the nickname stuck.

You look over at him, lazily blinking up to meet his fond gaze, “Hm?” You feel all fuzzy inside, overexcited yet pinned down by the unexplainable need to stay close to him.

He smirks down at you, arm subtly lowering to barely touch the back of your head, “What’cha thinkin’ about, sweetheart?” You try to lean into the feeling of his arm, hoping that if you ease into it, he won’t notice. “You had this… faraway look in your eyes for a moment.”

Oh, he noticed. But there’s no way he knows what you were thinking, right? A flash of embarrassment stings hot in your cheeks. You don’t think when you shyly nuzzle your face into his bicep to avoid his curious eyes, “I think I just zoned out or something.”

He hums, “You tired?” You turn your face to look at him, cheek resting against him. God, he smells so good. You never want to move from this spot. “Want me to tuck you in?” His voice coos teasingly, but you soak in the sweetness of it. He can be so soft sometimes.

Scrambled words echo in your mind: But if you go to bed, you’ll leave. You’ll take your arm out from under me and leave me here to think about you, all alone. Why can’t you just – Your thoughts quickly dissipate when he pulls you closer to him, hand at your waist to press your body against his.

Your hand presses delicately against his chest in surprise and you can barely feel the soft thrum of his heartbeat underneath the firmness of his muscles.

You softly shake your head, “Not tired.”

“Sure, baby.”

Baby.

That’s new.

Your thighs involuntarily press together with how good it sounds coming from his lips. Directed at you. Somehow, even with all the pet names he’s given you throughout the span of your friendship, this one hits home.

He says it with the casualness of a boyfriend and tenderness of a lover. You can almost feel him panting it against the crook of your neck as he pushes inside of you, hand clutching yours as his hips roll perfectly against yours.

You don’t even realize your legs are rubbing together like a cricket at dusk until a warm hand wraps around the top of your thigh. He pulls them apart, spreading your legs like you’ve always dreamed he would. Despite the suggestive position, you still whine at the loss of friction, thoughtlessly fighting against the insisting tug of his hand.

He hushes you gently, a soft tone barely easing your frustration. You latch your fingers onto his wrist, attempting to guide him to the spot that you really need him to touch, but he barely budges. His grip on your thigh tightens when his name drips brokenly from your lips.

“J-Jake…”

“Sweetheart, stop.”

“But –”

“Please.” Jake looks down at you with a pained expression, all past chivalry betrayed by the darkness pooled in his eyes.

You look up at him with misty eyes and flushed skin, innocence in the palm of his hand. “I need you.” You bite your lip at your admission, stained red from the wine, and he can’t take his eyes off of you. You pull at him again and this time he lets you. Both of you look down as his hand cups you over your shorts.

“You’re too drunk right now.” The whispered attempt of resistance falls on deaf ears as you arch your hips into his touch. Neither of you notice that the movie ended, leaving you in a silence where only the exchange of breathless pants can be heard.

“Touch me.” You whine, desperate for anything. Desperate just to be accepted by him.

His gaze briefly flicks up from where he’s touching to regard your eagerness with half-lidded eyes. He shakes his head and looks away like he’s looking for answers on the blank wall next to him. “I…shouldn’t.”

You start to panic when you feel his hand pull away. It can’t end like this. You hold onto his wrist when a particularly needy idea pops into your mind. If he doesn’t want to ‘defile’ you, then fine. You’ll do it yourself.

“I…c-could i just rub myself against you?” You berate yourself for sounding so meek, so unsure, but you’ve never done anything like this before, never had to take control of the situation. “Like, if you don’t want to…um, touch me.” He looks at you wordlessly, gorgeous lips parted at your suggestion.

His tongue brushes over his bottom lip, “I– Okay, sure…”

With his permission, you push up against the couch to get up and straddle over him. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting it with how his hands barely hover over your body like he’s unsure whether he wants to pull you closer or shove you off his lap. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah.” He sounds strained, “But just for a little bit, alright?”

“Ok.” You promise though you’re sure that once you get a taste, you’ll never want to stop. You have to make this good for him so he’ll want you back.

You settle against him, body thrumming with anticipation when your clothed cunt meets the prominent hardness under his jeans. So he does want it. His hands clasp onto your waist when you start to move over him, hips experimentally rolling against his.

Jake watches you move over him with a look of deep hunger and awe. It’s endearing how shy you are, even now grinding on his lap. Your movements are clumsy – unpracticed as you desperately try to chase that spark that’ll satisfy the heat buried deep down inside of you.

“That good, baby?”

You nod, mewling quietly as the seam of his jeans drags perfectly against your clit. Pleasure pools in your stomach, nudging you closer and closer to the edge. You hold onto his shoulders as you work yourself over him, panting from your effort. He starts to cant his hips upwards to meet your thrusts, pressing his erection roughly against your core to show you just how much he wants you.

All you can think of is how good it would feel to have him bare against you, skin to skin. When you meet your peak, body hot and trembling as you rub against him, the end never comes. It’s not enough. You’re just left teetering at the top with no drop in sight.

You huff, “Jake, can I – just…please.” You let your hands drop from his shoulders to start working on his belt.

“What is it bunny, what do you need?” He looks so good under you with his wrinkled shirt unbuttoned just so to give you a peak of his collarbone and the newly open belt hanging from the loops in his tight jeans. You undo the button, fingers briefly fumbling as your knuckle brushes against his bulge.

“Just need to feel you.” You paw at the waist of his pants, trying to subtly indicate that you need his help to take them off. But he sits there and smiles sweetly at your frustrated huffs.

“And what about me?” He says in a teasing drawl. He drags you closer to him and cups your face until your lips nearly meet yours. He’s so close that you can make out the light dusting of freckles that grace his nose and cheeks. Amber eyes bore into yours as he whispers, “You’re using my body and haven’t even given me a kiss yet.”

“Oh.” Your gaze drops to his lips, “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, baby.” He leans in, “just kiss me.” Your eyes flutter close when you meet the softness of his lips. You immediately melt into the gentle caress of his hand on your jaw with a sigh as he desperately keeps you close.

Jake groans, drinking in the sweetness of your lips, a taste of pure heaven melting on the tip of his tongue, before hungrily deepening the kiss. He licks against the seam of your mouth, begging you to open yourself up to him. You surrender yourself to him, letting him slide in and taste you from the inside out.

Your hands move up from his shoulders to his soft curls, tugging eagerly in an attempt to hear the soft groan that rumbles in his chest. He nips at your bottom lip, suckling it until it’s pink and tender, wanting to leave a mark so you’ll always think of him. He can’t help but press against you when you whimper for him, grinding eagerly against your center, wishing he was inside of you instead.

“Just the tip.” You mumble it against his lips. He’s too far gone to clearly hear what you said, lost in a thick fog of awe, lust, and…love. At his silence, you pull away to look at him, scared you’re asking for too much. “Jake.” He nods thoughtlessly, chasing your lips, already missing your taste. He almost whines when you pull away from his touch, but quickly comes back to reality when he sees the way you’re nervously looking at him.

He squeezes your waist comfortingly, “Anything you want, bunny.” You smile at the pet name and gratefully peck his lips. He tries to deepen the kiss, hand already pressing against the back of your head, but you cheekily pull away before he gets too far. You stand up, ignoring his objections and clingy touches as you get off of his lap.

You fluidly slip your shirt over your head before carelessly dropping it to the floor behind you. There’s fire in his eyes as he sits back on the couch and watches you reveal the cute bra that cups you so perfectly. You tease the edge of your waistband as you look down at him, “Off, please.” You gesture at his jeans. He follows your directions, quickly shimmying his pants off, eyes on you the whole time.

You follow him, tugging your shorts off to show him the matching panties. You squeak when warm hands abruptly pull you to the couch, eagerly wandering over your waist and hips as he buries his face against your neck.

“Can’t help it, baby,” His touch drifts up to cup the underside of your tits, trailing carefully over the curve to memorize the shape of you. “You’re just so fucking pretty.” He groans hot and heavy against your neck as he squeezes your softness.

You’re back on top of him, naked thighs draped over his, skin against skin, and now, you can feel all of him. He’s pressed so deliciously against your core, pulsing with pure desire and heat. The only thing separating the two of you is fading self-control and a pair of thin panties.

His mustache tickles against your throat as his lips drift over your pulse point. He presses heady kisses against the edge of your jaw, gauging where your most tender spots are.

“Oh–!” Your thighs clench around him when he touches a particularly delicate area near your ear. He gently nips at the spot, holding you tighter when you moan at the feeling.

Jake lets out a broken groan when you reach between your bodies and take him into your hand. He tries to continue giving your body loving attention with his lips, but his kisses get messy, dragging lazily over your shoulder and collarbone, with how distracted he is by your touch. He has to pull away for a breather and hold himself back from thrusting into your fist when you squeeze him teasingly at the base.

“Bunny…” You both look down and watch as your smaller hand slowly strokes him. His cock is flush with need, leaking so prettily as you try your hardest to make it good for him. You slip your other hand under his shirt, running your fingers against his coarse happy trail to his rippling muscles. The couch groans next to you as he harshly grips the arm, barely holding himself back with white knuckles. “Oh, f-fuck.” His body stiffens under you as you brush your thumb against the sensitive underside of the tip.

You tenderly massage the spot, watching in awe as he continues to spill over your fingers, making a mess that drips onto your inner thighs and the edge of his shirt. He groans at the sight, his cock throbbing desperately in your hold.

As beads of white paint your fingers, your mouth waters just thinking about how he tastes. You feel ravenous to see him cum, to watch how easily you can ruin him. “H-hold on, cariño. Give me a second.” Jake chokes out. His hips stutter under you before he pulls your hand away.

"Whyy." You whine, pouting up at him with starry eyes. You reach for him again with the hand he isn’t holding onto, brushing your fingers against his sensitive cock. He shudders for you with a broken groan.

“I'm close-- just – stop for a moment –” Both hands are pinned to your side as Jake’s chest heaves under his shirt. He rests his head back against the couch, eyes closed as he struggles to hold himself back.

“But…I want you to.”

“I know, baby,” He lifts his head, dark eyes boring into yours, and pulls your hands behind you. You squirm in his lap, back arching at the position, suddenly remembering your own desperation. It feels good to be bound by his hands, to let him do whatever he wants to your body. “But I don’t wanna finish if it isn’t in you.”

Your face heats in embarrassment. “Oh.”

Jake picks up on your sudden shyness immediately.

“You like that, don’t you, bunny?” He smirks, “The thought of me filling you up, then dripping out of you?”

You bite your lip, “A little bit.”

“A little, hm?” He ponders, “Well why don’t we try it out and see.” Your thighs clench around him at the idea.

“Ok.”

“Sit up, let me see how wet you are.” He helps you raise yourself on your knees so you’re hovering over his lap. Letting go of your wrists, he drags his thumb against your clothed cunt; The fabric has a darkened splotch along your opening, teasing him with evidence of your lust. “Aw, sweetheart, you’re soaked…” He nudges your panties to the side, slipping his fingers against your wet opening. “Gonna ruin these pretty little panties, hm?” You nod wordlessly, hips desperately pushing against his touch.

He gently slides against your dripping entrance, making a mess of your cunt with teasing circling motions. Wet, decadent sounds fill the limited space between you as his fingers prod ever so slightly against the spot where you need him most. A helpless sound is pushed out of you when he finally eases two fingers inside of you.

“Is that good, bunny?” He coos as he slowly fucks his fingers into you. It’s only his fingers, but he’s already filling you up so deliciously. His dark eyes are hungrily locked on how he fills you up over and over again, slick dripping down his knuckles and over his palm. “Hm?”

You nod again, brain foggy with pleasure. “Yes, J–” You can barely get a word out when he curls his fingers up, pressing so sweetly and deep against the sensitive walls of your cunt. You have to stop yourself from wrapping your legs around his wrist, it feels so good. “Uh–!” You almost fall over and have to hold onto his shoulders for support as he begins to speed up.

“That’s it, baby…” Your grip on his shoulders tightens as he rapidly presses against your g-spot. You’re already hurdling towards the edge and he can feel it with how you start to clench around his fingers. “Make a mess of my hand..” Within a handful of thrusts, you’re gasping out with pleasure, your thighs shaking over him. He takes his hand away and holds you against him to keep you sitting upright as your body is overtaken with euphoria. You pant against his shoulder, trying to gather your senses.

You can feel him under you, hard and wanting, throbbing as you whimper and arch against him, letting the pleasure work through your body. Even when you’re barely coming down from an orgasm, you’re still longing to be filled with something more. But he ignores his own needs, instead focusing on you, softly pecking the top of your head and rubbing comforting circles against your arms.

You lift your head from his chest to look at him, taking in his flushed cheeks and dark eyes. Jake stares right back, unabashedly, in awe. “You’re so good to me, bunny.” You shiver at the praise. At the comfort. You shyly divert your eyes to stare at the marks you’ve left on his shoulders.

“Only for you, Jake.” You don’t see it, but his lips lift into a small smile at your words.

His hands drift down from your arms to hold you by the waist. “Only for me.” He echos, solidifying the statement.

You gasp when he suddenly presses you down against his cock. Looking back up at him, he meets your wide eyes with a mischievous grin, hips rolling teasingly against yours. “And I’m all yours.” You position yourself over him all while keeping eye contact, wanting to drink in every microexpression on his face.

“Yes.” You both sigh as he barely brushes against your wet opening. He takes a deep breath, clutching your hips as you begin your descent.

Your body slowly manages to swallow the first inch of him. And – oh – it’s so much better than you expected. He stretches you so fully, even barely inside of you, filling you exactly how you need him to.

You let out a strained whimper from the back of your throat as you slowly lower yourself onto his lap. You whine as your body desperately clenches and stretches to accommodate him inside of you. His hold on your hips tightens as your thighs meet his, now fully impaled by his hard cock.

“I thought it was ‘just the tip’.” Jake tries to tease, his deep voice gravelly with lust, but it comes out as more of a groan than a taunt.

You slowly shake your head, body trembling as you get used to the feeling of him inside of you.

“You said you’re all mine, daddy.” The words practically melt from your lips, lethargic with heat. It catches him off guard. You moan, hips slowly moving over him to feel him deeper inside. “M-mine,” You repeat with a pant, so lost in desperation that you don’t even notice the way he’s looking at you, frozen in place.

“I-I did say that, didn’t I?” He doesn’t know what else to say, brain overheating from your ministrations. You’ve never called him a pet name before, let alone used the word ‘daddy’ anywhere near him. You’ve always been a shy little bunny around him, always preciously out of reach, a tease to fantasize about, but now you’re wrapped around him, moaning beautifully destructive words.

What really surprises him is the way he’s eagerly throbbing inside of you from that word. Desperate thoughts float in his mind: She wants me to take care of her, she needs me.

“Fuck me.” He groans to himself, willing his body to hold back from cumming inside of you right then and there.

“P-please.” You beg with a broken voice, thinking he’s talking to you. Jake just nods understandingly and holds you closer with an arm wrapped around your torso, wanting to feel your whole body against his. He starts off slow, pressing up into your kneeling body with measured thrusts as he dots kisses along your neck and shoulders. You sigh something wistful before meeting his movements, eagerly lifting your hips against him.

“God, bunny, you feel so good.” He can't help it, you’re all-encompassing like this, with your pretty little sighs and panted breaths, it’s everything he’s ever wanted, so he starts to speed up, projecting his desperation into his actions. Your back arches at the change of pace as he pumps into you, and it only makes him feel deeper. “So tight around me.” He pushes against your front wall on every thrust and you swear it makes you see stars.

Your clit inevitably rubs against him as your bodies move with each other and it takes your pleasure to another level. You’re sure the sounds you’re making verge on embarrassing, but he seems to eat them up anyway. “Ah, right there--! Jake –”

“No, bunny,” He grits out, “It’s daddy.”

You whimper, “Daddy – ” He feels you flutter deliciously around him as your head begins to lull backward. He groans as your cunt sucks him deep inside, desperately milking his cock as you’re seized by ecstasy.

“Fucking take it, sweetheart.”

“I-I think m’gonna…” Your eyes roll back before you can finish your sentence and white fills your vision. You let out a keening sound as you gush over him, thighs clenched around his as your second high moves through you.

His eyes squeeze shut as he gives in and starts fucking you at a punishing pace. Your mouth drops open around an empty moan. You can only hold onto him as he takes what he wants from your body, intensifying your orgasm with sloppy thrusts. With a few more upward pushes, he lets out a breathy grunt and finishes inside of you, painting your walls with his warmth.

You both stay in this position for a little longer.

You can feel Jake’s heart beat rapidly against your chest as you cuddle against him. He’s still recovering from the onslaught of sensations and emotions. Both of you are sticky with sweat and slick, but neither of you care. His cock is still inside of you, keeping his cum locked inside as you dutifully warm him with your cunt.

“Such a pretty girl…” He croons, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. He looks down at you with such sincerity in his eyes, that it’s almost overwhelming. You bite your lip nervously at the compliment and attempt to look away, but before you can, he’s tilting your face up with the light touch of a finger, “Really? You’re gonna act all shy with my cock still in you?”

His words only make you squirm on top of him. He nearly chokes at the accidental stimulation.

“You can’t just say stuff like that.” Your voice is small and cute.

“Then how am I supposed to fluster my girl?”

Your eyes widen. His girl?

“Your girl?”

“My girl.” He hums with a small smile before placing a soft kiss on your lips.

#jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley smut #moon knight #cw: dubcon #cw: dub-con #oscar issac fanfiction

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fairyofhee · 6 months

Text

no one compares.

PAIRING. fuck buddy!heeseung x afab!reader

SYNOPSIS. You both thought that having no rules with a fuck buddy would make things simple, because it was just sex. But it was all conflicting when no one compares to each other after sleeping with someone else.

WARNING. angst if you squint, contains smut! MINORS DNI. fingering, handjob, creampie, unprotected sex. 4k words.

FORTY EIGHT HOURS LATER

You woke with pure feelings of guilt and regret, watching the boy leave with the scent of you. It’s dumb, you didn’t meant to sleep with him. Well, you did, but you had a hard time admitting it.

Heeseung texted you two days ago that he slept with someone else, so you did the same.

Your fuck buddy Heeseung was on vacation for three weeks, which was the longest time you’ve been away from each other. Although you used each other for sex or it was more so, a friends with benefits situation, there were no set rules.

Meaning, that you weren’t exclusive, which also meant that seeing other people wasn’t a problem.

When Heeseung texted you that he fucked someone else, you were surprisingly shocked. The information caused a weird feeling in your chest. It was the first time either of you had slept with someone else, but it wasn’t a problem, right?

It wasn’t a big deal, you told yourself. And so, if Heeseung can sleep with someone who wasn’t you, you were allowed to do the same. You slept with your friend, Jay, who also happened to be Heeseung’s best friend.

It wasn’t supposed to happen, but Jay came over last night and one thing led to another. He spent the night and slept in your bed — in the same spot that Heeseung usually does, and left this morning smelling like you.

You both agreed that it was a one time thing, and you heavily emphasized that it was because Jay usually wasn’t someone you turn to for sex.

Heeseung returned from his vacation trip today and wanted to come over tonight to see you. Of course you accepted his self invitation, since it’s been three weeks from being apart. But you were anxious to see him, the inner dilemma in your head haunting you since last night.

You debated on whether or not, telling him that you slept with Jay. Heeseung needed to know you thought, because he admitted to also fucking someone else. It was all confusing though, he didn’t need to tell you. Did he think that you deserved to know? You weren’t exclusive after all.

You made a rational decision. If the topic of other people was brought up in conversation then you were going to tell him. There are no rules when it comes to you both so it’s not important.

“Hi,” says the boy outside your apartment, leaning on the door with a smug look on his face.

The sight of him leaves you instinctively smiling. His hair grew out a bit, a strand of hair fell to his forehead, and his skin was now close to honey. He looked so pretty and the smile on his face that you so missed caused your heart to swell.

“Can I come inside?” He interrupted your thoughts as he chuckled.

You repeatedly nodded as you let the boy in before watching him take distinct steps closer.

“I missed you,” he says. You feel his hot breath fan on your face as you return his long stare, all while contemplating your next move. Suddenly, you pull him even closer and attack his lips, feeling both of his hands cupping your entire face.

Everything happens so fast when you’re dragging him inside your bedroom. Your arms were hooked and wrapped tightly around Heeseung’s neck before he slips a hand underneath your pants and inside your panties, feeling how wet you were.

“My pretty girl missed me this much?” Heeseung teases his fingers along your entrance, locking his dark and lustful eyes into yours.

All you could do was let out a groan, unable to control the way your body reacted to him. He begins to push a finger inside you and kiss your burning cheeks, watching your face contort with pleasure and your lips parting in a silent moan.

“Baby, you are quiet today,” Heeseung says before adding another finger and curving them to hit the sweet spot inside you. He’s just starting to touch you, but you feel yourself already close. You also notice his own arousal physically growing.

“I need you, Hee,” you slipped a hand inside his sweatpants to feel his tent. “I need you too,” he whined, starting to pump his fingers in and out of you until his movements shortly become more erratic when he’s circling your clit.

You reach inside his boxers and wrap your hand around his hard cock to stroke him, feeling his precum leaking out. Heeseung’s mouth quickly opens to let out a moan when you’re moving your hand up and down. His cock soon twitches after rubbing his slit with your thumb.

The air began to feel heavy as you both touched each other, missing how each other felt. It was a matter of a few seconds until you could feel your release, and it was becoming a bit overwhelming when Heeseung starts to kiss your neck.

He continues to place his mouth on your skin until you feel him stop and completely pull away.

“Who’s this from?” He says and you freeze, pursing your lips while following his hands that were on your neck. You shrugged in silence for a moment, realizing that Heeseung is rubbing the hickey that Jay left on your neck last night.

“It’s from someone,” you hesitated to say while feeling conflicted, until you made the decision to admit who it was specifically from. “It’s from Jay.”

Confusion crossed his face, “Jay?” He questioned as he removed his stare at the fresh mark on your skin before meeting your eyes with a hard blink.

“He was just being a good friend.”

Heeseung scoffed, “A friend like me?” A cunning smile adorned his lips. “Did you sleep with him because of what I did?”

“What? No,” you shook your head and Heeseung didn't speak, but met you in silence. A dry laugh escaped your lips which quickly died out as you took a deep breath. “I mean, it was difficult waiting for you to come back so Jay was there. It seems like it was hard for you to wait too, no?”

Heeseung relaxed his tense shoulders, “Yeah. Since we’re not exclusive,” he pointed out.

“Exactly,” you tried to smile.

The tension in the air thickened and instead of acknowledging it, you nudged your nose against his before kissing him softly. “I missed you a lot,” your voice was laced with lust and desire.

“I know,” he replies while hovering over you until you lied flat, “Let me make you feel good.”

“Let me be on top,” you demanded as you grabbed the hem of his shirt to remove it.

Heeseung shakes his head and lets out a deep laugh, “You don’t deserve it.”

“Why not?” You question before pausing. You were in the middle of removing your shirt and unclasping your bra until you halted due to his response. “Because I fucked someone else?”

“I didn’t even mention anything about that.”

You scoffed hard, “You’re thinking it.”

"And you're ruining the mood," He sneered before grabbing your breast to hungrily leave kisses, the feeling causing a loud groan to leave your lips. Your sounds encourage him to place his tongue to your nipple before he sucks hard with his mouth.

Heeseung wastes no time grabbing your whole body with an arm so that you're faced down with your ass up, feeling how hard he is when you're pressed against him. “I’m gonna fuck you first then you can do whatever you want to me.”

You bury yourself into your bedsheets, impatiently waiting after giving a nod of approval. Heeseung plants a kiss on your back before grabbing the band of your panties to quickly slip them off and to spread your wetness.

“Take out your cock already,” you urged, feeling Heeseung’s clothed cock that you just jerked off a few moments ago, pressed up behind you as he begins to rub slow circles onto your clit.

“Don’t be a brat or I’ll treat you like one,” he says, starting to strip off his sweatpants by untying the strings, his boxers followed by it — making your head turn back at the sight of how hard he is.

He takes his throbbing length in his hand that dripped with precum and began to stroke himself watching as you were the view in front of him. You watched the corners of Heeseung’s lips twitch upwards when he notices the way your legs were spreading wider.

“Hee, I can’t wait any longer,” you whined out.

Heeseung acknowledged the patience that you didn’t have. He took his cock to your folds and mixed your wetness and his precum, making you clench when he wasn't inside you yet. He gives you no warning when he inserts himself, the harsh sting of the stretch was something that you missed over the past three weeks.

He slips his length out and slams inside once more, a loud moan leaving both of your mouths at the sensation. “You’re tight,” he murmurs in a deep tone, “Did he not stretch you out enough?”

You grip the sheets tightly, having a bit of trouble speaking due to the adjustment of his big cock. “S-Stop talking about him,” you plead.

He laughs at your response before gripping your waist with a hand to help himself slam in and out of your cunt, causing you to whimper at the intense feeling. You manage to compose yourself as he’s setting a fast pace, and you turn around to see his eyes closed and his head thrown back.

The sight of the smirk on his face with hair loosely falling onto his forehead causes you to uncontrollably clench and he curses your name.

Heeseung begins to roll his hips sensually and you take it as a sign to move yourself against him, so you quickly match his pace until he’s hitting your cervix. "Fuck, my cock was made to be inside you,” he lets out with a loud whimper.

“You have the best pussy,” Heeseung continues, the only sounds coming out of your room is your skin slapping against his and the moans from your lips. "Y-Your cock is the fucking best,” you cry out, causing him to twitch at your words.

“Shit- that’s right,” he mutters, tightening his grip on your hips when feeling your orgasm approaching before slipping out of you. The action causes you to turn your head, staring at the soft expression on his face with confusion.

Heeseung takes your hand and pulls you towards him until you were sitting on his lap. He inserts himself in you once again, leaving both of your mouths wide open with a deep exhale let out.

“Fuck me,” he begs with his deep round eyes burning into you with desire, “Show me how much you missed me before you cum.”

Your cheeks were flushed as he begged, and you soon attacked his lips to start fulfilling his demands. He helped your body to move in and out of his cock before allowing you to take over. With your fingers tangled in his hair, you begin to roll your hips slowly before increasing the pace.

“Go faster,” Heeseung pleaded with his hands on your hips, holding himself back from thrusting upwards. You shake your head, continuing the same pace you were previously moving at.

“Let me fuck you how I want, Hee,” You whined. “I-I’ll make you cum soon, just be patient for me.”

You start to move your hips in slow languid circles as Heeseung nods, his hands moving up to fondle your breasts and graze your hard nipples.

You then start to bounce up and down on him, making Heeseung breathe heavily. This was a chance to show how much your body was made for him, the chance to prove that there is no one else for him, you thought.

Your movements are increasingly becoming faster, giving the pleasure that he impatiently begged for as you feel his cock twitch inside you. The sound of your skin slapping against his thighs arouse you even more, helping you to chase your end. You desperately wanted to cum.

“You’re fucking me well,” Heeseung lets out, feeling your walls clamp around him, watching your face scrunch up and unable to hold it in any longer. With his grip on your waist, you manage not to fall and collapse on his chest.

You weren’t sure if you were going to last as long as he wanted. The pleasure was overwhelming and more than anything that you have ever felt before, but it felt so good — he felt so good.

“Heeseung, oh my- fuck," you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut and clenching hard, his warm touch helping you to quickly release on him.

Heeseung lets out an airy chuckle before moving his hips upward to thrust deep and hard as if a bruise would be there tomorrow. He’s enjoying the sensation until a loud moan leaves his mouth when he releases inside, his cum filling up your insides and quickly leaking out.

He rides his orgasm for a moment before you shortly raise your body so that he could pull out of you. You watched as his cum mixed with yours dripped out, the sight was something you also missed during these past three weeks.

Shortly, you both do the same routine after sex — catching your breaths, cleaning up, not expecting Heeseung to stay. Sometimes, you would wake up the next morning and he would be gone, but tonight, he decided to stay and sleep over.

You turn your body to exhaustingly lay on the bed after cleaning up, Heeseung then joins you to lay in his spot of your bed.

“You’re thinking about something,” Heeseung cuts the silence with his words, noticing you in deep thought as you stare at the ceiling.

There is something obviously bottling inside your head, but you choose to ignore it. You turn to look at him, and all he gives you is a pleading look.

“Just say it,” he urges.

A deep exhale was let out as you think about the outcome of your next words. What you’re thinking could possibly fuck things up, but you cautiously choose to let it out anyways.

“How did you feel when fucking that girl? Did it feel like you were with me?” Your voice anxiously rang, hoping he wasn’t going to get up and leave.

“No,” he laughs, “I regret it so much.”

Your face lit up in shock, “Why?”

“Because I was too busy thinking about you.”

Your mouth slightly parted, truly speechless as you felt your chest ache. And it wasn’t supposed to, since this is just your fuck buddy. But his words were all you needed before popping the question. It was something that you’ve been meaning to ask all along, but you were too afraid of stepping over unspoken boundaries and giving him the wrong idea that you weren’t even sure was entirely wrong anymore.

“Do you want to try being exclusive?” You quickly let out, “We can try for a little while and if you get bored, you can see other girls.”

As you wait for a response, Heeseung just smiles before speaking out. “I think we can do that.”

“But I don’t think anyone could compare to you.”

note — thank you for reading! please leave any thoughts or comments, reblogs and feedback is greatly appreciated!

#enhypen fic #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #heeseung hard hours #heeseung smut #heeseung angst #kpop fic #kpop smut #enhypen hard headcanons #heeseung x reader #heeseung fic

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alwaysshallow · 6 months

Text

― blood on my shirt, rose in my hand

SUMMARY: Simon Riley knows you have bad experiences with dating, but he also knows you don't really need no one but him. He's gonna provide you anything. So you can imagine how he could change, when for the first time, you think you've found the one man who's right for you. To your surprise, weird events happen during the time you date Nick. Thankfully, Simon's there to help you. (11,4k)

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A/N: this is SUCH a long piece, so some of it is here, but the full version is on AO3. i hope you're gonna forgive me for this one </3

"It's not like I'm ugly, right? I thought about it. If I'm ugly, so that's why it doesn't work out." you sip your favorite wine, looking right at your best friend, who has been listening for the past hour your ramblings about dating.

"You're fuckin' stupid, but not ugly, pet."

He's the best friend in the world – you can say this, meaning it with your whole heart. In fact, he's the best friend everyone probably wished to have, at least in your mind. Not only here for you, but loyal, you can tell him basically anything. He wouldn't say a thing, even if someone was nagging, and he was mostly a good adviser; all the qualities you looked for in a best friend, right?

And he was brutally honest, like right now, but you don't mind it. Simon Riley had this thing, and even if sometimes you were almost offended at his bluntness (like this one time, when he told you you're a crying mess and you act… worse than a toddler), you mostly appreciated it. Your other friends couldn't compare to his honesty, this man was not the one to lick your ass.

Or, so you thought.

"Excuse me?" you raise your eyebrow, laughing, while shaking your head. "You should, I don't know, tell me I'm amazing and they don't deserve me. Or so." you joke; it causes him to roll his eyes.

"That's what I told you. Different words, but the same thingy."

"Right."

It sometimes sucks for you that Simon isn't a girl. He has this unbelieveably annoying guy thing, where he just can't be delusional with you, and he can't just mourn over some hot guy. His way of thinking is… on the other level, he totally skips the mourn part, the part that is pathetic; he's just saying things like "move on" and "there's a lot of them anyway". Again, you love it, but you really wish you could cry about guy being so pretty that it hurts, without him rolling his eyes.

Yet, when you're more in mad mood than mourning one, his attiude is just perfect. He's the one to encourage you to scream, he even brought you a few times to rage room when you needed to smash a few things, not to mention the attiude he was setting you in. Powerful, not giving a shit about a "piece of a man that doesn't deserve you".

Simon sighs. "You're worryin' too much. Really that desperate?"

You huff, as you sink more into the plushy couch in your apartment. "I'm not desperate. It's just…" you take a few seconds to think "being love starved."

"Sex starved, you mean."

"Love starved." you send him a look.

"Mhm. You fancy plushies, hugs, and all shite like this?"

"You're so fucking British, it hurts" you laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, I want something like this. Someone to hold me, someone that cares about me and I know it. Sex comes in package, of course, but it's just… ugh, I want a man" you groaned.

You feel as pathetic as ever, when Simon doesn't respond – because how exactly should he? He wasn't vocal about things like this, he usually just nod his head, and there it was, another topic. A miracle it was that he was already listening to your date rambling, not cutting it off because he was uncomfortable or something.

Dreams about your love life… more girly conversation.

Mostly – you know guys who loved talking about it, obviously, and you adore it pretty much, especially when you can know their perspective on some things, but… Riley wasn't really one of them. He had "simple hookups" as he said one day, when you asked him about doing double-dates. It wasn't even an option, he just liked to ocassionally fuck and that's all.

So you stopped trying a few months ago for a double-date. Instead, you focused more on finding a man that would meet your expectations at least in the middle, and that was exhausting, to be honest. Tinder dates were just a disaster after disaster – if it wasn't some catfish, a guy that wanted to marry you and have kids after two weeks of writing, it was most definitely a guy with a desire to bang you quickly.

Romance was dead these days, you noticed. That wouldn't keep you away from trying to find someone, though. Patience was a key in things like these.

"Maybe you will set me up with one your friends? It wouldn't suck. You know them." you think out loud.

"Definitely too much wine f'you." Simon takes your glass, and pours all of the liquid to his mouth, swallowing it like it was some kind of juice, not alcohol. "You don't want a guy from military in your life. Trust me."

There's some sternness to his tone, at which you raise your eyebrow. It was just a funny comment from your side, nothing else – you know by the heart that this man doesn't like the idea of connecting his two worlds. "I know, Simon. Just joking, right?"

You place a hand on his. It's a comedic, yet, heartwarming view, when you see the size difference.

"And, you're pretty cool for a military guy."

He huffs. It seems like pretty cool offends him, but he doesn't say it out loud, so it can be only your imagination working. "You met me before I enlisted. 's different."

"How different?"

"You knew me before military."

He doesn't give you another answer that night, nor the continuation of this one – he brushes you off, like you are some kind of bug that is disturbing him, and brings up another topic, about his deployment. He asks if you can watch his apartment when he's gone, take care of it; it's stupid, Simon knows that you will always agree, but it's the need of asking you anyway.

And, he likes coming home, where he can smell your perfume, where he can see that you made some changes. You tend to do that a lot, mostly buying stuff to his apartment. "It looks worse than room in the hospital" you always say, when he cocks his eyebrow with amusement. He doesn't say that, but he finds it really adorable that you care so much, to make his space… cozier, even if he's not really attached to it. Mostly, it's for your comfort when you come to visit him, and that happens a lot; not like he minds it. Anyone else would be banned from his apartment, but you? Oh God, you wouldn't be, not in the milion years.

You could probably be the worst ever to him; call him names, punch, anything, and he would still be your Simon. It's what he was used to, to being by your side, no matter what time, no matter if you were in the good mood or not; your presence was everything to him.

Not like he'd ever confess that, but it is what you know, silently.

Yet, you are so good to him. Always sending him letters or texting him when he is on deployment. A couple of times, you sent him little things too, if he forgot something, photos included too, but new ones; mostly you captured views, but you were here once or twice. His happiness may not be that visible to outsiders, but his heart is full every time.

"My girl", he'd tell boys when they saw a polaroid of you, swiftly tucking it into his vest because no one was allowed to see it more than three seconds.

Often, Gaz joked if you are actually his girl even if you're not dating, but it sounded so bizzare to Ghost. How would you not be his? Thirteen years of friendship counted as something beyond being only his best friend, no? At least in his mind it was like this. He was used to you dating briefly other guys, but it lasted maybe a few months top. Nothing serious, probably his hookups were more meaningful than your relationships.

So you can easily imagine his confusion, when your mutual friends tell him big news about your new object of interest; someone that he doesn't even know yet, but he's not really his fan on the beggining.

It was just a month of being away.

His eyes are on you now; you are embarrassed, looking anywhere but at him. You don't even speak, you just wave your hand in dismissive manner, trying to change the topic because you don't really want to talk about it. Not in the presence of your best friend, at least.

It works for everyone but Simon, and you know it by the way he looks at you, processing what he just heard. Changing a topic, sudden talkativeness from your side is like buying time in that, time precious to think what to say to your best friend later on.

Because you know for the fact that he'll ask. He always does, and now he has a reason.

You have your reasons why you haven't told him. "It's nothing serious. That's why I didn't tell you." your voice is a little more silent than usual, but he can hear it anyway. You two are taking a walk to your apartment with no one around; and it's awkward one.

Simon seems like he doesn't want to say anything about your poor choice of men. It worries you; he always wanted somehow to make fun of you or make comment. Now, it's just a nod, like he gets it, but you know it's not it. He doesn't get it.

But you don't know what it is.

"C'mon!" you nudge him, and when it doesn't seem to affect him, you stand right in front of him. A little wobbly because of alcohol, your vision isn't so great too, but it makes him stop in his tracks. "Say something."

"Somethin'" he grumbles, and you can't help but roll your eyes. "What? Told me-"

"-I know what I told you!" you cup his face in your hands. Your head is a bit hazy, but the intensions are clear; making him talk and soft. It always works, so you have a lot of hope. "He's a good guy, but I want to meet him a bit closer to be… certain about him, you know? You've heard me whining about boys a bit too much."

"You can tell me everything." he muses, and you can't help but smile at that. Of course – of course you can tell him everything. You never doubted it for a second, and you think of yourself as stupid, doubting that he wouldn't want to hear about it. "Ill be the judge of that, though. Good guy thing."

"I can't be trusted?" you tease, and when he lets out a low chuckle, you grin even more. It's like a reward after him being his grumpy self.

"No." he shakes his head. "You don't know what is good for you. But that's why I'm here."

Under the influence of alcohol, you didn't pay too much of attention to his words; probably you wouldn't pay attention to it even if he'd say this when you are sober. Simon as your protector – it's so natural, you don't even need to think about it as something weird. It's just the way things are for thirteen years, everyone knows this.

Your friends, who were a bit reluctant on the beggining, but two parties later, when he joined the competition of drinking on time and wasn't drunk at all, he won over their hearts.

It was tougher with your parents, when you were in highschool. A little distanced at first, they constantly asked where were his parents (which, you told them, was rude asking, especially to his face), telling you how much of a bad news he could be for you. Suggestion of him ruining your future was the worst, you never thought of him this way; that discussion caused you to give them the silent treatment for a few days.

Apparently after that, suggesting that Simon is around you too much, clinging to your side and giving you "weird glances", they stopped the narrative, admitting that the boy might be damaged, but not broken. You still felt like they're judging their every move, but seeing that he had pretty good life plan, seeing that he thought about military and went here actually? Hell, they completely stopped being suspicious in any means.

Riley just had this thing of charming people, even if they didn't like him in the beggining. He had everything under his finger, trying to keep things under control – it was like that… pretty much since the beggining of his life. You met him when he was an adult, but he always liked to keep things under control; people, things that he cared about. What belonged to him was sacred, untouchable for anyone else.

The possessiveness started in his early childhood with toys, when he absolutely despised everyone who just wanted to touch his things, to lay their dirty, filthy fingers here. In early classes, it was considered just rude.

When he was older though, he started fighting for various things. Knowing he has the advantage, he used his legs, fists, when he had to, and no one was looking, besides the actual victim. He wasn't stupid; he knew how troublesome the public can be, he also knew the power of manipulation a bit too well to get caught so easily. Wasn't the plan, getting caught; it once happened, but because he wanted to; he even broke his own nose, making it like the other guy did it, just to get what he needed. The reputation of kid who was broken in the childhood, so he's just not opening on others was… suitable, for him. No one could suspect anything, especially when the kid just happened to be "attacked" by one of the popular ones, right?

The idea of power was something that Simon truly desired from the beggining; maybe it has something to do with the lack of his parents in his life, being transferred from one foster family to another. Maybe it's just him being a little fucked up – who knows.

What mattered, was the fact he had you. You, so sweet, so considerate to be by his side, to be protected by him, to be the person who "opened" because of her. Little did you know, he opened just because he wanted to be closer to you, not those fuckers you hang out with.

If you knew his past, you would have another reasons in mind, why he showed up to meet your potential new boyfriend. Jealousy, posessiveness, power complex, him being a control freak who can't give you to anyone he personally doesn't trust – if ever, considering you were his precious best friend. He isn't willing to share.

You aren't really aware of him being this crazy. You think of his flaws, and you see someone that has been damaged, someone that you can and will help, if he just asks for it – or if you'll see he needs it. So, naturally, you help, and grin the widest you can, when you see him in the door. He shows completely unexpected. It doesn't take you long to wrap your hands around his neck, tight, as you hug him.

Happy as always because you can see your friend, happy as ever because moments like these means a lot to you. When he's deployed, you can't even see him, so you're taking all in when he's right in front of you.

"Hope 'm not interruptin'." he murmurs into your hair, as his head is practically buried in them; he has to bend down a little to be at your level, but it's something he enjoys. The power.

"Never." you say immediately, not even hesitating in your statement. "Actually, you found a pretty good moment."

"That I did, eh?" his eyebrow arches, as he straightens up.

"As always. Nick's here, you have to meet him."

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#ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x you #ghost #ghost cod #simon riley x f!reader #cod x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley smut #simon riley fluff #best friends to lovers #best friend simon riley

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lovelybrooke · 3 months

Text

Platonic Yandere Angels x immortal reader

Very long awaited, I know. This takes place at the same time as my Overlords x reader headcanons (so during pt2). I'm very nervous about writing this, so please tell me how I did. Also, just like the Overlords, I'm only talking about the Angels we know about, not anyone that was on screen for like a second.

masterlist

---

Heaven knew something was up.

A few weeks ago, there was a sudden shift, something only Sera seemed to notice. It was small, but it made Sera stop in her tracks, almost like she was waiting for something. It made Emily nervous, seeing someone so strong become so confused over--something. Sera spent days trying to figure out what was up, she knew Hell had to be a part of it. There isn't anything else it could be, she thought.

She soon found you--a human child in hell. Your arrival in hell must've been the thing that she felt that day, it all makes sense now. However, her feeling of accomplishment soon became fear, a human child is, for some reason, in hell and is being taken care of some of the strongest demons. What worried her even more was the fact that you were alive. You were still human, at least as human as someone can be in hell, and something was holding you back, keeping your humanity within you. She was terrified for your safety, so when Charlie was invited to Heaven to figure out in souls in hell can be redeemed, she knew that your presence would be a topic of conversation.

Before that though, she tasked Adam with keeping an eye on you. She didn't want to tell Emily, she knew she would ask questions that couldn't be answered. She knew Emily would figure it out eventually, but that was a worry for another day. What's more concerning is Adam. He sees you as a prize to be won, not a person. He saw you as just another thing he could use against those demons. He noticed how taken they were with you, and instantly knew how great it would feel to rip you away from them. Lute was really the only one who supported her boss in this endeavor. She didn't really have any strong opinions on you, other than that you should be in Heaven, but that's mostly because that's what her boss wants.

The others down in Hell have no way of knowing about the Angel's knowledge about you until Charlies official Heaven visit. Charlie had no reason to think that Heaven knew about you, so when they bring you up, she's extremely confused. Emily is even more confused, and slightly upset that Sera would hide this from her. Out of everything she could hide from her, the existence of a human child is definitely one of them. She couldn't stay mad for long, because Sera was quick on informing Charlie that Hell is no place for a human, especially one so alive. Sera suggested that they bring you to Heaven, and you stay there until everything is sorted out and you're back where you belong.

Emily knew Sera felt something for you, something much deeper than Sera felt comfortable admitting. She was a Seraphim angel, older than the Earth itself, strong and powerful and wise, all brought to a head because of the existence of some human in hell. Emily couldn't deny that you were interesting, and even though she was upset that you were kept a secret from her, she was less upset with Sera and more upset that she didn't get to meet you until now. Well meet is a weird word, more so found out. You seemed nice, very sweet, too sweet to be in Hell. You deserved to be somewhere nice, and maybe once you were brought to Heaven, you two could become great friends. She knows that eventually you would have to go home, but she wanted you to smile more, you seemed so sad down there.

Adam reveled in the confused look on Charlies face. She really thought you, a human, were just going to stay in Hell forever? This was all hilarious, watching as the stupid little demon princess try to argue that Hell is your home and that you're not going anywhere. It was the first time he saw her actually frustrated, angry almost. It just made you more interesting to him. Adam's never cared much about Humans, but there must be something great about you to make you so important to these demons.

Sera knew you needed to come to Heaven, you were in grave danger with these demons, and in her heart she knew she was doing the right thing. As she and the rest of the court watch you down in hell, alone in your room of the hotel, she knew you needed her help. You were tired, shown through your exhausted behavior. You could barely keep your eyes open, and before she knew it, you were asleep. According to Adam, this is the first time you've slept in weeks, and Sera instantly knew she'd seen enough. You were neglected, a helpless child with a pit of vipers, and she would be the one to save you.

Charlie and her partner adamantly disagreed to sending you to Heaven. This, paired with the Sera's decision to refuse the reforming of demons made Charlie extremely upset and tired. She tried to do everything to prove to them that demons could do good, so why wasn't it enough. She just wanted to go home and see you, make sure you were okay.

Sera felt another shift again, and suddenly, you were gone. She watched as Charlie scrambled to find you, and she herself looked everywhere she could for even a trace of you, but there was nothing. You must have somehow gone back to Earth, she should be happy. She should be content knowing that your back where you belong, but for some reason, she disappointed. She wished to know who you were, what you were like. She wished to give you a better life than the ones those demons were providing. But now you were gone, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Maybe once you actually die, she'll get to meet you again. But until then she'll be waiting for you.

---

A/n: This is short I know but the angels are so hard to write for. Please help me...

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #yandere hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #platonic yandere hazbin hotel

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tokyothirstygang · 1 year

Text

Your bff Chifuyu is everything a girl could want: hot, loyal, and adorably stupid. There’s only one problem with your golden boy…he thinks he’s bad in bed. Good thing he has a friend like you willing to help him improve his dick game

You’re lounging around on a Saturday night with your best friend, Chifuyu.

He seems distant as he sits on the couch with you, eyes trained on the TV but clearly spaced out.

“Chifuyu? Hello? Are you okay? You’ve seemed…off all day.”

He doesn’t respond until you grab a pillow and chuck it at his head.

“Hey! What the hell?”

He tries to throw the pillow back at you, but you catch it before it hits you.

“Sorry! I tried talking to you but you didn’t answer. What’s up with you? You’ve been weird since you got here.”

Chifuyu sighs and slumps down further into the couch.

“I can’t tell you. It’s too embarrassing.”

You turn to sit sideways on the couch to face him full on.

“I’ve literally seen you trip, rip your pants then land in dog poop. What could be more embarrassing that?”

His face flames at the memory.

“Hey, you said you’d never bring that up again!”

You fight off a smile, knowing it would only humiliate him further even though it was really funny at the time.

“Chifuyu forget about that. What’s bothering you? We tell each other everything.”

He bites at the cuticle around his thumb and bounces his leg up and down.

“Fine, but this conversation is never ever leaving this room, okay?”

You nod furiously, eager to know his big secret.

“Okay, well…last night I was with Anna, you know that girl I met at the bar? I don’t think she, uh, had a good time when we were together.”

Your eyebrows furrow.

“A good time doing what? Like hanging out with you?”

Chifuyu’s face hits full tomato status.

“No, not hanging out. When we were…” he trails off and it takes a moment for the realization to hit.

“Oh! When you were bed?”

Chifuyu groans in frustration and throws his head back.

“Yeah. It’s just-“ he reaches for a pillow and puts it over his face. “I don’t have that much experience. I know I’m not the best but I can’t be that bad, right?”

You accidentally snort at the question and he groans again.

“Im sorry! It’s just that we’ve never had sex so I wouldn’t really know what you’re like.”

“You know what? I really don’t want to talk about this right now. Forget I ever said anything.”

He leaves the couch and wanders over to the bar cart in the corner. He pours himself a shot of vodka and downs it immediately.

“You want one?” He asks and starts to pour you one before you even reply.

He comes back holding four shots- two for you two for him.

You both throw back all the shots, giggling and coughing the entire time.

When you’re both buzzed and warm, you catch yourself gazing at Chifuyu.

He was an extremely attractive man. Even if he wasn’t the best in bed yet any girl would still be lucky to have even bagged him in the first place.

That’s when your devious little mind gets an idea.

“Chifuyu…” your mouth starts talking before your brain can catch up and without realizing it, you say something that changes you both forever. “What if we had sex? If you think you’re bad in bed, you can practice with me.”

He stares at you, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

“W-what?”

“I said…” You scoot closer to him.“let’s have sex.”

He still looks startled, but you don’t miss the way his eyes briefly linger on your lips.

“We don’t have to. I wasn’t trying to pressure you I just…I just…” his words gets lost in this throat.

The more he looks at you the more he can’t ignore how soft and inviting your lips look. He also can’t ignore the way your shirt is clinging to your tits or how your eyes are lighting up with that mischievous glint.

“So what if we do have sex? What then? We can’t just be the same after that, can we?”

You know he’s right but the topic has already been put on the table. No going back now.

“Things don’t have to change. You’re just practicing with me. You’re probably just getting nervous when you’re with other girls, but you know me, right? We can just have fun with it. It’ll be like…a science experiment!”

Chifuyu shakes his head at the comparison.

“You’re treating my dick like a science experiment?”

You both fall into a fit of laughter. The whole idea starts to seem ridiculous until you catch sight of Chifuyu nervously bouncing his leg again.

You start to turn your attention back to the TV when Chifuyu’s hand lands gently on your thigh.

When you look at him you see his pupils are dilated and his cheeks are flushed.

“If we do this…promise it won’t ruin things with us.”

“I promise.” You hold out your pinky, and Chifuyu grins as he links his with yours.

“Okay, then.” He shifts himself off the couch and down onto the floor. He’s on his knees in front of you, and you’re confused until he reaches for the waistband of your sweatpants.

“Lift up.” He demands, and you immediately obey. He slides the pants and your underwear off together then gently pulls you to the edge of the couch.

“Spread your legs for me.” A jolt of adrenaline rushes through you as you open your legs and expose yourself to him.

He takes a moment to admire the view in front of him before moving his lips to your inner thighs. He’s making a point of teasing you by giving attention to every spot except for where you need him most.

“Chifuyu… please.” When you lift your hips up, he takes the hint and gives you what you want.

Immediately its clear why someone wanting a quick hook up might hate chifuyu: he eats pussy like he’s in love with you.

He’s making out with it like it’s your mouth, passionately kissing, sucking and sliding his tongue around it like he’s waited his whole life to have you spread out in front of him like this.

He’s slow and intentional about it, holding your hands and listening to every little sound you make to see what you like the most. He’s going to make sure you feel every little thing, and he’s going make sure it feels fucking good.

You writhe beneath him, lifting your hips up to ride his face. He lets you control him. Whenever you push his face in deeper, he happily obliges while securing your thighs around his head with his strong hands.

“Fuck! Chifuyu…”

When you cum, you cum hard. Harder than anyone has ever made you cum from just foreplay alone.

When you finally recover from your orgasm, you’re in complete shock.

If this was any indication of what he was like in bed, all of those other girls were definitely idiots.

Chifuyu was going to ruin you.

“Jesus, Chifuyu. You’re so good at that.”

He blushes at the compliment.

“Really? Thanks, I-I wasn’t sure.”

You sit up, lean forward, and gently grab his face. You kiss him eagerly, not missing the taste of yourself on his tongue.

“Let’s go to my bedroom.” You suggest, and he nods, immediately pressing his lips to yours again as soon as you’re done talking.

You stumble back to your room, feverishly kissing the entire way. When you finally get there, you’re entirely naked and Chifuyu is down to his boxers.

“What position do you want to try first?” You finally pull away from him long enough to catch your breath. You sit down on the edge of the bed and look up at him.

“Uh…I’m not sure. Maybe-“

“Oh my god.” You accidentally cut him off mid sentence. While he was talking you snuck a peek at the bulge in his boxers. Unless your eyes are playing tricks on you, his cock has to be big.

“Wait, let me see.” You reach forward and roll his boxers down his thighs. When you finally get a good look at it, your mouth drops open.

“What? What’s wrong?” Chifuyu’s eyebrows furrow in confusion .

“Nothing, it’s just…huge.”

You’re not exaggerating. It’s a long, thick cock that’s guaranteed to split you in half.

“Is that okay? Do you think you could take it?” His genuine concern is adorable…and sexy.

“Y-yeah we can make it work. Just tell me what you want.”

He decides he wants you from behind first so you get on to your hands and knees and brace yourself for him.

When he tries to enter you, you immediately clench around the tip.

“Oh, shit.” Chifuyu sighs at the friction. “You might be too tight for me.”

“Just go slow. I can take it.” You’ve never had someone as big as Chifuyu and now that you’re presented with the opportunity, you can’t back down.

He reaches around you and starts rubbing circles into your clit.

“Is that better?”

You nod, dizzy at the feeling of being slowly stretched and filled up.

When you manage to take him halfway, he leans down and presses kisses onto your spine.

“You’re doing so good for me. Shit, just keep taking it like that.”

That’s when you know Chifuyu has lost himself to his lust. Level headed Chifuyu would be way too shy to say something like that. You have officially entered uncharted territory with him.

As he sinks in a little more, he tests the waters by giving you two steady, deep thrusts. When you immediately cry out, he smiles to himself.

“Look at you. Already falling apart for me.”

You sigh and bite your lip as you grab a pillow and lie face down ass up.

Chifuyu takes that as a sign you’re ready and willing for him so he starts pounding into you.

Your brain doesn’t even know what sound to focus on: his growls, his hips crashing into you or your own screams of pleasure.

Within minutes he has you cumming all over him, chanting his name and gripping the sheets.

He waits for you to ride out your orgasm before he flips you over on to your back. You’re still seeing stars when he directs your attention to his dick.

"Look what you did to me.”

Around the middle of it is a sticky, white ring.

“Creaming all over my fucking cock when I was barely inside you.”

You’re still in complete awe at the way he’s been talking to you. You initiated the sex thinking you were going to teach him some tricks but instead he was unlocking new kinks for you.

“Come here.” He backs off the bed and stands in front it. He pulls you up and to the edge of the mattress. “Clean up your mess.”

When you look up into his eyes you see they’re dark and animalistic.

Your sweet Chifuyu is gone.

You take him into your mouth, almost immediately gagging because of his size. If you thought taking him into your pussy was hard, this was on a whole other level.

He gently rocks his hips forward, sliding himself in and out of your mouth.

Your eyes are watering and you can barely breathe but he looks so gorgeous with his head thrown back and eyes closed you let him keep using you.

You continue to suck and choke on his cock for a couple of minutes before he finally pulls it out.

“I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that. Get back on the bed for me.”

You assume he wants to go back to where you’d left off but he stops you as you try to get back on all fours.

“No, baby. Lie on your back for me.”

You do as he says and before you know he’s got your legs spread open and thrown over his thighs.

“I wanna see your pretty face while you take it.”

Just like that he’s sliding back into you, stretching you and making you feel full before he’s even started fucking.

When he finally does start moving his hips forward, you swear he’s going to rip you in half.

“Fuck! Chifuyu…you’re so…so big...” Your words only encourage him to keep going, and when he miraculously sinks fully into you, you both cry out.

“Shit…you’re the only one who’s been able to take me like this.” He confesses, sliding his hand down to toy with your clit. “Your pussy must be made for me.”

He intently watches your face and when his cock finds the spot that makes your eyes roll back, he keeps hitting it until you’re speechless.

You want to yell his name, moan in pleasure, and tell him you’re about to cum but it feels too good to do anything but just take it.

He feels you getting close and leans down to your eye level. He presses his forehead against yours while he strokes you slow and deep.

“I know you want to cum, baby.” He whispers and your toes curl. “Just let me have it. Make a mess on my cock.”

You find your voice again as your orgasm hits you hard. You scratch at his back as you scream his name over and over.

“Shit…ugh…baby…” Chifuyu pulls out and strokes himself a few times before he cums all over your stomach.

When he flops down in bed next to you, you’re completely confused.

“So, wait a minute…why exactly did you think you’re bad in bed?”

He lets out a shaky laugh as he tilts his head to look at you.

“I don’t know. I could never get it in all the way. I thought maybe they weren’t turned on enough to take it. Like maybe they didn’t really like me or something.”

You smack him with a pillow for the second time that night.

“You idiot! They couldn’t take it because you’re big not because they didn’t like you.”

Chifuyu glances at his dick as he considers it.

“Huh… maybe you’re right?”

You roll your eyes and playfully shove him.

“I think you’ve been in too many fights. Your brain is only operating at 5% these days.”

He chuckles as he rolls out of bed. He leaves the room and returns with a towel for you.

As you clean yourself off, you see Chifuyu sitting on the edge of the bed bouncing his leg again.

“So…how was I? You can tell me the truth.”

It’s baffling that he’s nervous again after everything you’d just gone through together.

“Chifuyu Matsuno, you have officially ruined other men for me.”

____

Shout-out to all the big dick Chifuyu stans I hope everyone survived this story because I was losing my mind writing it 🥵 lmao

____

@sherlockscumslut @tomiokas-lunchbox

@kindbitch

#tokrev smut #tokyo revengers smut #anime smut #tokrev chifuyu #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x you #chifuyu smut #chifuyu x reader #chifuyu x y/n #chifuyu scenarios #chifuyu x you #chifuyu matsuno #tr chifuyu #big d!ck chifuyu returns #cw: smut #cw: suggestive

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glitchafton · 2 years

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////

#also we near the end of the weird Vanessa #rewrites optimizes and adds features arc #......ideally there is payoff to this being a thing even if it wasn't going to be over so many posts #you know besides being a topic that can drag Vanessa into talking. And a lot.#which is an issue in the early section.....#and one of those baked in issues with format that I could have handled much better in prose #since if they're not talking there's no chat log.#and they're really not talking without reason even if they're both easy to go off track and just fall into conversation...

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plasticferal · 2 months

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keeping score | matt & chris sturniolo.

prologue: 'they say love is the sixth sense that destroys all other five senses’

authors notes: 1.9k, explicit language, reader discretion is advised. welcome to my first series, please enjoy the ride.

they both want you. the only way matt and chris can agree to settle who wins is through competition, one where you’re the prize. your own heart is torn between the two brothers. the thing is though, love doesn’t keep score.

they have two very different experiences to offer. two sides of the same coin. a coin you refuse you flip and settle on.

matt is the first to catch your eye in any room. he makes you nervous. butterflies, stuttering, awkward laughs, stuttering over your words. all of it. you like him. you’re unsure if he feels the same toward you.

however, you also like chris. the compliments he showers you in, the subtle flirting, the way he softens his tone around you, how giving he is, the way he’s so shamelessly himself. the list goes on. he’s different.

it’s a weird triangle of intrigue and unrequited feelings that lingers and is never acknowledged.

you’re already convinced it’ll never happen. with either of them. you’d be putting too much at risk considering how deeply you value your friendship before anything else. the fear of falling in love, and losing them both.

which might just be your karma for being into both brothers.

they occupy the living room. you’re upstairs, using nick’s bed to take a nap while he showers, and he takes long showers. he’s always given you a safe space in the house, to make it feel like home.

you love to annoy chris and matt by stealing their clothes, blankets, soft drinks out of the fridge, tagging along to every late night drive and fast food pick up.

they share everything with you, but you designate yourself in nicks’s room as to not stir up any terrible, rash decisions on your accord.

being fast asleep and tangled up in crisp, cold, silk sheets, it’s a deep sleep. completely escaping into your dreams.

you’re left unaware of the chaos that’s about to ensue in the living room between the two brothers who occupy your mind. chaos is the score in which reality is written upon.

“you like y/n, right?” matt asks chris.

you’ve had a strange feeling for a while now that matt is trying to set you up with his brother. which, as flattering as it is, it’s bittersweet.

matt is sinking lazily into the lounge while scrolling through his phone, on the furthest left. chris is on the furthest right with his feet kicked up on the coffee table.

they’re in direct view of each other on the L shaped couch. not in a literal sense, just in proximity. neither brother is actually looking up from a screen of some kind.

“what?” chris snaps his head toward matt, diverting from the television for a moment.

“just answer the question.” matt huffs.

“of course i like y/n. she’s the closest person in our life besides like, nick” chris shrugs, going to look back at the screen again.

matt groans in disappointment at his response.

“you know i don’t mean it like that.” matt sits up slightly, readjusting his position and posture.

“god here we go again.” chris runs a hand down his face, fearing his brother's next words.

“how do you really feel about her?” matt pries.

unusual for him. out of character even, chris is usually the one who needs to know everything all the time, and is never afraid to ask the hard hitting questions, as annoying as it may be. but not with this topic of conversation.

the difference is, chris does it because he’s genuinely curious. matt asks questions for his own selfish reason, to chris’s oblivion.

chris needs reassurance that he’s making the right decision in not pursuing you. matt needs to know if or when he’s going to have to compete. little does he know that time is nearing.

“man, i don’t know. i just- i like her. can’t we leave it at that?” chris’s tone is anguished.

“you’re avoiding the question-”

“i answered your question!” chris cuts matt off before he can fully form his sentence, and matt’s jaw tightens.

“fine, whatever.” matt waves his hands in the air with defeat before diverting back to his phone, leaving chris to linger on his words.

“i’m never gonna make a move. i know how you feel about her, too.” chris huffs, as though he’s annoyed at the response he’s had to give.

“what’d you mean?” matt gives chris a glare, like he’s daring his next words.

“you know exactly what i fuckin’ mean” chris scoffs, shifting in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest and pulling the sleeves of his gray hoodie past his knuckles.

matt takes a loud inhale through his nose and exhales through his mouth

“we can’t just keep pretending that we both don’t want her.” matt drops his phone onto his stomach face down, being slightly slumped.

“i’ve been fine pretending” chris throws the hood of his sweatshirt over his head to hide his eyes more from matt, a natural reaction to not enjoying the grilling.

“well if you don’t make a move, i will.” matt’s tone is serious.

“you wouldn’t.” chris deadpans, a sincere tone of disbelief seeping from his lip that he’s now biting the corner of.

“you’ve been saying you’re gonna make a move forever and haven’t done shit."

he knows it’s not nice, but there’s something about the lack of passion from chris despite the obvious crush just makes matt's skin crawl. if someone is going like you and not do anything about it, matt is more than willing to shoot his shot, give you what you deserve.

“that’s not fair” chris twists his face, glaring at his brother.

"i think it’s more than fair play at this point, kid.” matt scoffs.

if looks could kill, matt would be dead.

all those times you’ve perceived matt bringing up chris to entice you have just been a ploy to gauge how both of you feel. he knows it’s manipulative, but no harm, no foul.

the worst part is, chris isn’t actually even sure he wants a relationship. he’s infatuated by you, undoubtedly. matt on the other hand would marry you with a paper ring.

they’re both scared of their own feelings, and the intentions that might come along with them. they don’t ever want to hurt you, but their carnal desire is misleading their moral compass.

“alright then,” chris starts, matt’s words hitting a nerve for him. he slaps his hands onto his thighs and sits up in his spot.

“how do we settle this? who gets her?” chris continues, staring at his brother intently now.

“i don’t think we get to make that decision.” matt shakes his head, bringing his hand to his mouth as he begins to bite his nails, which muffles his words.

“you’re right, we don’t. but we’re gonna have to compete for it to even be an option.”

“compete” matt repeats chris’s words with a sour huff, a slight arrogance in the sense that he doesn’t view his brother as a threat.

not when it comes to you, and there might be a small part of that statement that’s correct. you have a sweet spot for matt, which fires up chris even more. he is conscious that he’s the underdog, as much as you try to show an even amount of attention to the both of them.

“what’s wrong? you scared you’ll lose?” chris taunts.

“that’s the least of my worries.” matt scoffs, his mind traveling down every possible path this terrible idea could go down.

“fine, then you won’t be afraid of a little competition.” chris says nonchalantly, pushing back with the same energy matt’s been giving, turning the tables.

“what’s your plan here? we just tally up the moments we get with her until someone wins? to boost our own egos?” matt speaks with his hands.

“i do love to have my ego stroked” chris grins to himself, the thought of you crossing his mind as the words leave his mouth. his train of thought tends to wonder easily.

“seriously, chris, how do we plan on settling this?” matt rubs his hands together, like the action you do when you’re trying to stay warm.

“i think there’s only one answer to that.” chris responds, in a “duh” tone, without explicitly sharing what’s on his mind.

their sixth sense of being able to unpack each other's minds sparks like an electrical fault in the moment. of course, neither of them hate the thought of getting you in bed. they just hate the thought of you being unaware.

somehow it’s more challenging than falling in love, or securing a relationship. betting to sleep with you is actually the hardest challenge of them all, let alone covering all the bases in order to attain it.

the intimacy, the intensity of it all. it just seems so unattainable. it requires them, and you, to be completely and utterly vulnerable.

“that seems kind of, objectifying.” matt shifts his demeanour, ironic considering he sparked the conversation.

“it wouldn’t be a competition without a challenge.” chris acknowledges, and unfortunately for the both of them, he’s right.

“this sounds so fucked up” matt says, running his hand through his scruffy hair.

“first brother to five points takes all. all of her.” chris speaks, confidently setting up the challenge.

essentially their plan is to see who can get the closest to you, and let the other brother suffer in watching it happen. which occurs points. loser has to back off of you completely. unless someone gets to you first, in which case all their hard work flies out the window. they won’t be making it easy for each other.

“points won’t matter when i get her into bed first.” matt’s smug, knowing it’ll make chris go insane.

“so i take it that you’re up for the challenge?” chris ignores matt’s words with a prompt, because if he doesn’t disregard it, he’ll lash out.

matt considers it. at least he acts like he does. he knows his answer. if he wants you, if either of them do, they have no choice but to compete. neither of them are sure if it’s love or lust, but they’re about to find out.

they are certain of one thing though. they like everything about you. the way you look. the way you smell. the way you sound. they know exactly why they want you. it’s the first time ever someone has been able to grab the attention of both brothers. hence the severity of the agreement.

“when do we start keeping score?” matt responds, and that’s all the reassurance chris needs in his brothers answer.

as if on command, you trudge down the stairs in a sleepy state. their eyes snap toward you simultaneously, and you blink repeatedly to make sure you’re seeing them right.

you are their favorite part of every day, so it’s not out of the ordinary for them to acknowledge your entrance, but you can feel the intensity of their eyes on you with a different energy.

with foggy vision still clearing as you rub your heavy, tired eyes, you let a small yawn escape. they both melt at the sight, despite you feeling like you’re in your least desirable state.

you’re not even paying attention to their back and forth bickering. the sound of their voices muffling through your ears. whatever it is they’re saying, they’re not saying it loud enough for you to hear before you even make it down the stairs.

“now.” chris states, eyes snapping back at his brother as they both raise off the lounge.

all is fair in love and war.

tag list: @luverboychris @floofparker @fake-sturniolos @letstripsturniolo @imwetforyourmom @mattsneezing @mattslolita @breeloveschris @rootbeerworshiper @mattstattoo @mxqdii @tay-laaaaa @pettydollie @lacysturniolo @annamcdonalds67 @landrysflannel @goandcomebsck @sleepysturnss @call-me-ninaaa @lustfulslxt @txssvx

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader

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the-ace-with-spades · 2 months

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(I adore fics where Johnny’s family loves Ghost from day one, but, you know…angst)

Soap and Ghost had been together for almost two years. They never name the relationship, really, but it's serious and they both know it.

Thing is, Johnny's seen Ghost's face a total of four times, counting Las Almas.

Well, he sees parts of it regularly, more than others. Ghost will either roll the balaclava up when they're reading together in bed or when they're eating. Sometimes, when Soap wants to go out and Ghost indulges him, he goes in public in just either a face mask or a gaiter and Soap can see his short wavy blonde hair sticking all over the place and

The four times he had seen Simon’s face in it’s whole — obviously, Las Almas; one time when he was unconscious and bleeding from a head wound and Johnny had to check; one time when they took a shower together, Simon stayed with his back toward him through most of it, but when they finished, he let Johnny dry off his hair; one time, when Johnny asked him to see him for his birthday presents, a few minutes after midnight.

Johnny wasn’t sure why exactly Simon didn’t want to show him his face. It wasn’t a trust thing — he trusted Johnny with more than his own life — and it wasn’t like he was ugly — he was downright sinful. He never drilled the topic because he didn’t care, if SImon wasn’t ready, then he wasn’t ready, but if he had to guess, it was all to do with identity and being seen. No one knew his face — people could know his name, Simon “Ghost” Riley, but they wouldn’t know the man behind the mask. Wouldn’t know the people behind Simon “Ghost” Riley.

(Johnny wasn’t completely off on the assumption — Simon didn’t want anyone to know his face because faceless people weren’t missed. Faceless graves — like his own — didn’t have people to leave behind, and faceless soldiers didn’t have loved ones to find and he was both. No one could get hurt if he remained faceless. Or at least that’s what he’d been telling himself.)

And Johnny is okay with that — if Simon never showe him his face again, he’d still love him all the same. Johnny’s family? Not so much.

They’re supposed to be in Glasgow for five days total, leaving after Boxing Day. Johnny gives them all a warning, that Ghost is a bit shy and doesn’t like showing his face, he’ll most likely stay covered the whole time, he might be wearing a balaclava, or a mask, he probably won't eat at the table.

When they arrive at his parents house, it almost seems like everyone forgot. Like everyone thought it'd be more mild or that Johnny was exaggerating.

There are looks. There is silence. People can't stop staring.

His mam takes one look at Simon’s balaclava once they enter the living room and looks funny at them. “Ah thooght Ah tauld ye boays tae strip doon.”

“Mam, lea him alane,” he tries but he can tell that Simon is getting tense and his mam is getting tense.

His mam, who is usually the sweetest person ever, is uncharacteristically quiet and curt whenever Simon is around. Simon doesn't really know how to make it better — Johnny's never seen him so silent outside of stealth missions, he just stands there like a sore thumb, not making anything less awkward. He didn't expect him to — Simon's social skills are lacking and he loves him that way — but he expected his own family to not make such a big deal out of that mask.

His da is stern and silent, which is as disapproving as he gets. His sisters are a bit weirded out, but mostly focused on teasing Johnny, even making fun of the mask. With a stupid grin, his older sister asks, “Does he keep it oan in bed?”

Johnny doesn't say anything to that, even though his face feels red. His sisters stop laughing.

“He does?” When Johnny tries to step out of the room and avoid the conversation, his sister’s tone changes. “Hae ye e’en seen his face?”

“O’ coorse Ah hae,” he spits out. He doesn’t specify it was only four times — he doesn’t think it’d help. “And ‘s a bonnie ane, alricht.”

It doesn’t save the situation and his sisters are also weirded out and wary from then on.

The kids do not care — they ask maybe two questions, tilts their head as Simon explains and that’s it — and Johnny breathes a little easier as soon as his nieces push Simon outside to help them build a snowman.

The judgment doesn’t stop. Johnny’s blood boils any time it shows and even though Simon says it’s all fine, he can’t stop feeling angry about this. They just can’t get past the mask.

Christmas Eve and Christmas Day are difficult to Simon and Johnny knows it. He’s given him the option to omit the family dinner on both those days if he’s not feeling alright enough to spend those days in crowdy house filled with a flock of loud and cheery people of all ages.

Simon knows this. He also knows that if he says he wants to stay at Johnny’s flat for the time being, Johnny is going to insist he doesn’t have to go either, that he’d prefer to stay in with him and not go for the Christmas dinner. Which he also knows is bullshit — Johnny loves Christmas, loves spenidng time with his family, that was basically why he kept on insisting Simon couldn’t stay alone at the base for Christmas another year in a row. It was the main reason why he agreed to go with Johnny in the first place, he was pretty sure if he didn’t go with him, Johnny would insist he stays, too.

So Simon stays in for Christmas Eve — or rather goes to a pub while Soap spends the day with his parents — but insists they go to Christmas dinner.

His family is disappointed to see him there, to the point the usual manuevering around politeness and disapproving go onto a backburner.

“John said yer nae a fan o’ Christmas,” Johnny’s mum says to him pointedly.

“That’s right.”

“And yet ye’r ’ere,” she notes.

Johnny is far away from the earshot and he doesn’t want to lie to her so he admits, “If I didn’t come, Johnny would insist on keepin’ me company.”

“How come ye dinnae try to hae a bit mair cheer fur th' holidays then? Put a bit mair effort in for ma baby.”

Johnny notices and soon enough, he’s next to him, their arms brushing, Johnny’s hand on the small of his back. “Lea him alane, mam.”

“It’s fine,” he says even though it’s not fine. They deserve an explanation, even just to know what they son is getting himself into. “My family was murdered on Christmas Eve. I’m—I’m trying.”

The silence falls over the room — Johnny’s mum, dad, his sister, all present, not looking at them. Simon closes his eyes, tries to breathe.

Johnny rubs his back. “Let’s gae home.”

“I’m not ruining Christmas for you, Johnny,” he says. Before Johnny can deny it — and he knows he’d try — he tries to placate, “Let’s just have ourselves a minute to calm down.”

Maybe it’s the way his voice is perfectly levelled or the way his hand trembles as he squeezes Johnny’s, but he lets him leave the room.

He steps outside — to the backyard. Sits down on the step to the garden and lets the snow soak through his jeans and the top o his balaclava.

The kids come outside, tripping over Simon’s legs. They were all oblivious to the trails and errors of Simon’s integration into the family, so they approach him as always

“Whit's wrang?”

There’s just something so innocent in having a six-year-old girl covered from head to toe in pink and glitter worry about you. Simon would never admit it in front of Johnny, but he finds the accent cute.

Simon takes off the mask.

The kids all look at him and look at him, a bit unsure maybe a bit fearful — it can be a scary sight, he admits, the elongated, jagged smile that sticks to him no matter the mood, makes him more crazy than he already is — but only one of Johnny’s niece keeps her eyes on Simon’s face.

Shily, she asks, “Does it hurt?”

“No,” he replies. When she smiles, he smiles back.

Not anymore.

This is Johnny’s family. Simon can deny it all he wants, but Johnny’s seen him as family, as someone he’d leave behind, and it hadn’t been unrequited. He can’t hide behind a mask forever and maybe this was the kick he needed.

He steps back inside when his hands turn numb. He doesn’t put the mask back on.

Johnny’s eyes widen. “Simon?”

Simon just—smiles. He can feel the scars pulling on the corners of his mouth, the stiffer skin, but he’s not faceless. He’s not been faceless for a while.

Edit (29/03/24): This is now a WIP for a minimum 15k fic, titled don't shoot me, santa, that will have 4 chapters and will be posted (hopefully) later in the year

#this is like a very shortened version with some points cropped out #maybe this will be a full-blown fic at some point #who knows? not me for sure #idk maybe closer to christmas or sth if i have inspiration #i headcanon soap speaks scots whenever he's home/speaking freely and softens the accent otherwise #i love glasgowian accents but im not good at writing them so #ghoap #ghostsoap #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #cod #call of duty #q #charlie writes #op

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