#he already has the shooting stuff from his fists down! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mahalkheeta · 7 months

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— THROUGH THE PHONE

genre: smut; heeseung, jay, jake, sunghoon

summary: what enha hyung line sends you when they're needy.

warnings: twt nsfw p0rn links, masturbation, cum, cursing.

note: these are all 18+ twitter links so if you're uncomfortable, please don't open them :"D (and !! please let me know if they actually work huhu). also, please, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

— heeseung sending you a video of him cumming to his fist.

heeseung really can't help himself. when he's needy and you aren't physically there to help him, he turns to his fist and wild imagination. he doesn't take his time, quickly unbuttoning his shirt and ridding himself of his bottoms and undergarments.

it takes less than a minute to get himself fully hard, his mind drifting off to thoughts of your small and warm hands wrapping around his cock. you'll hear him pant into his room, his hand working on his hard shaft relentlessly.

his hips are surprisingly steady, not wanting to shift the camera. he wants to give you the greatest view after all. he wants all completely soaked and needy by the time you come running to him.

it's embarrassing how quickly he feels the pleasure build in his stomach, his breath hitching as his fist instinctively tightens against his cock. airy moans start to leave his already open mouth. you don't even need to his face on camera to pocture what it looks like.

"oh, fuck–" his breath hitches, abdomen tensing as spurts of cum shoot from his tip. his fist slows down, brows furrowing as the bliss sends shudders down his spine. "a-ah, ahh," he continues to moan, knowing how much you love the sounds he makes.

he pants a few times, his head thrown back onto the wall before he eventually comes closer to the camera to stop the video. before he presses the button to stop recording, you hear him breathlessly chuckle. there's a text that follows after the video.

"if you get here in 5 minutes i'll let you lick all this off me and stuff your mouth with more, baby ;)"

— jay sends you videos of him trying to replicate your touch.

when jay is needy, he tries doing whatever he can remember you doing to him. ever since he met you, your touch has been the only thing to get him going. thus, when you're not there, the only thing he can do is copy you.

his palm rumbs up against the head of his cock. his fist is tight, focusing on the tip as his chest heaves up and down with every pant and breathless gasp.

"ah, fuck... sweetheart," jay calls out absentmindedly. he tries biting on his bottom lip, attempting to keep his voice down. if the other members heard this, he wouldn't live it down.

"fuck me," he rasps, his hips canting upwards instinctively to chase the friction of his rough palm. it's a stark contrast to your usually soft hands. the added sensation makes his toes curl and his eyes roll to the back of his skull.

his heavy breaths grow slightly in volume as the coil in his stomach threatens to snap with every movement of his palm against the increasingly sensitive skin beneath his head. he can't even speak as his orgasm hits him like a truck.

as thick ropes of his cum spill from his slit, he accidentally lets out an audible moan. his hips are permanently off of the sheets at this point, giving little thrusts into his still tight fist.

eventually, once the intensity of his orgasm passes, he pants into the room. he doesn't need to send any other message to have you rushing back home, wanting nothing more from him than to fuck you senseless.

— jake sometimes sends you the whiniest jerk off videos ever.

when you're not there to please him, jake gets horribly needy. this man was trying to do some work in the studio when his mind just so casually drifts to you, your touch, and your hands. the moment those pictures come flooding into his brain, his cock starts hardening immediately.

and when jake gets needy, he gets needy. he can't wait until he gets to the dorm. he's too impatient to start walking to the restroom, especially with a raging hard on throbbing in between his thighs. he needs to cum right here, right now.

making sure no one was in the room, he makes quick work of his cock. he fishes it out of his pants, the pre-cum already dripping across his fully hardened length.

his hand coming to fisg his cock already has him gasping into the empty studio. he's so needy that his usually breathless moans turn into full on whimpers.

"shit, angel," jake whimpers, his accent thick through the phone as he continues to fuck his fist onto his leaking cock. the sound alone has you dripping in your panties.

"wish you were here," he whines, throwing his head back against the headrest of the chair. "wish you were the one jerking me off right now... ah!"

his free hand comes to grip the black hoodie he chose to wear, needing something to hround him from the pressure that was steadily, and intensely building in his stomach.

jake does not have the near coherence to speak when he reaches his high. in fact, he's shaking. his entire body trembles as his fist tightens around the base of his cock, unmoving due to the sensitivity coursing through every fiber of his being.

you can clearly see the veins in his other arm as he grips his hoodie. you can see the way his cock shakes in his hold as pearly drops of come spill from his tip.

"god..." he pants, eyes still shut and brows still knitted together. "you gotta get here, baby. need to actually cum to your hand. please."

— sunghoon sends you quiet videos of him cumming to his pretty fingers wrapped around his near perfect cock.

sunghoon's videos focus more on his pretty hands pumping his even prettier cock. it's impossible to not be soaking watching sunghoon jerk off to his wild thoughts of you.

sunghoon is sat against the head rest of his bed, his legs spread to accomodate both his hands. you wishes you were between his legs right now instead. one hand cupped his tight balls as the other furiously pumped his erect cock.

his face isn't seen in the video, and you personally think it's such a shame. hoe you loved to watch his face contort in pure bliss, his jaw dropping and his eyes stating down at his length as his thick brows pull together to form a face of ecstasy and pleasure.

the sounds however, do make up for the lack of his face. although he's more focused on trying to picture your hand instead of his more than anything, you'll hear the airy moans he lets slip, the small groans he simply can't hold back as his fist occasionally focuses on the tip of his shaft.

"ah... aha!" he pants out repeatedly into the empty room. he shifts a bit, angling his hips closer to the camera so you can see just how hard he is.

"this is because of you." sunghoon hisses a bit as he feels his high approaching alarmingly quick. "so fuckin' hard for you... ah, shit."

his words are quickly cut off with a quiet groan as cum starts to leak profusely from his tip. his hand rides him through his high, hushed curses and grunts leaving his already parted mouth.

despite all this however, the man is still hard. not even seconds after the video sends, sunghoon has already added another message to his attachment.

"i'm still hard and it's your fault. come here and fix it."

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rafeandonlyrafe · 8 months

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rafe being an aggressive lover headcanons <3

words: 800

warnings: mentions of violence, rafe being controlling a bit lol

“i love you so much, baby. i would kill everyone on this fucking island for you.” you know he’s serious, but you can’t help the laugh that bursts out of you. rafe pouts, hands tightening on your hips. he goes to duck his head in slight embarrassment, but you stop him, “i love you too baby.” you kiss him. “while i don’t want you to kill anyone, i will definitely keep that in mind if someone is pissing me off.”

“if you don’t want to go, we don’t have to go.” rafe says, admiring your dress as you smooth it out in the mirror for the hundredth time, nervous about dinner with your parents tonight. they’ve never been the biggest fans of rafe, but what upsets you more is how overly critical your dad is of you. he never gives you a break, and rafe knows how his words cut like a knife. “if he starts that shit again, i will deck him in the fucking face.” you roll your eyes, but know rafe absolutely would do that for you.

rafe has been at your back all day, arms around your waist or hands on your hips. it’s cleaning day at the house, and you find it really satisfying to move room to room, organizing and sanitizing, but it’s a bit hard when you have a lovesick rafe following you around. “baby, ow.” you wince in pain as he squeezes you too tightly. rafe backs away quickly. “i’m sorry.” you turn around and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “it’s okay, handsome. just too tight.” you peck his lips. “i know, sorry, just wanna squeeze you until you pop.”

“you’re never allowed to leave me.” rafe says seriously. you roll your eyes as you swipe on your lipgloss. “honey, i’m not leaving, i’m literally just getting dinner with the girls.” rafe pouts as you grab your purse. “you’re going to be gone for hours.” rafe whines. “you’re not going.” you turn to rafe, placing your hands on your hips. “excuse me?” rafe shakes his head, holding firm, “you’re not going.” “i’m going.” you head for the door, but rafe grabs your hand. you interrupt him before he can speak, “and you’re coming too.” rafe gives you a puzzled glance. “i already told the girls that you’d be joining me.”

“call me every hour.” rafe says, kissing you again, moving slightly closer to the door. “rafey, aren’t you gonna be in meetings and stuff?” you ask. rafe has been putting off an important business trip for weeks, and it can’t wait any longer. he really wanted you to come with him, but you insisted you were fine to stay at your house, you’re an adult after all and it’s only three days. “doesn’t matter. let me know whenever you’re leaving the house, i’ll be watching the cameras.” rafe had cameras put up in all of the common spaces, coincidentally a couple of days before he left. “i will call you.” you nod. “annie is coming over tomorrow evening, and i will probably go to the grocery store when you’re on your flight back so i can make you dinner.” rafe kisses you, pauses to open the door, and kisses you again. you’re glad you convinced him to leave an hour early, knowing that rafe actually leaving the house always took forever.

you’re sitting in bed together, having spent the whole sunday just lazing around the house. rafe pulls you onto his lap, pressing your body close to his. his teeth suddenly sink into your bottom lip, making your eyes shoot open. rafe doesn’t let up, gently biting down on your lip, tugging it slightly. you moan against his mouth, letting him know how much you like it.

“chicken?” rafe asks, and you shake your head no, a sour look on your face. “pasta?” another shake of your head. “chips? ice cream? pretzels? baby, you have to eat something. pizza? i’ll order from any restaurant.” “raaaafe.” you stop him, “i’m just not hungry, babe. it’s fine.” rafe runs his hand through his hair, chest puffing up and down, “it’s not fucking fine, honey. you can’t just skip a meal.” rafe pauses, clenching and unclenching his fist. “are you sick? should we go to the doctor?” “not at all honey… why don’t we order in pizza? that sounds good.” rafe can easily tell that you’re lying, but if it’ll get you to eat, he doesn’t care.

“get down!” rafes sudden yell startles you, making you wobble on the ladder. rafe is quick to grab you, literally pulling you off your feet and into his arms. “what do you think you’re doing?” rafe shakes you. “rafe!” you let out a little squeal. rafe sets you down on the couch, pacing the living room, “do you know how easily you could have fallen? whatever you’re doing, next time wait for me to get home and let me do it okay? i can’t have you hurt.” he kneels down in front of you. “you scared me.” you whisper. “sorry, bunny.” he squeezes your knees. “but please, no heights. nothing even a little dangerous. i- i can’t lose you.”

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shares-a-vest · 3 months

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@steddielovemonth Day 25: Love is… Asking, “Do you want a blanket?” (Prompt by @thefreakandthehair)

wc: 952 | Rated: T | cw: Hospital setting, mild descriptions of injuries and general hospital stuff, physical pain, one mention of blood

Tags: Post-s4, Fix-It, Eddie Munson Lives, Hospital

'Hospital Blankets'

“Steve? Hey, Steve?”

Steve is pulled out of a restless slumber by Eddie’s stage whispering. A twinge in his back fully rouses him as he remembers exactly where he is – in Hawkins General, bent up like a pretzel on what is quite possibly the world’s hardest chair, wearing nothing but a hospital gown and his underwear. He blinks harshly, his vision blurry as he looks in the direction of the chattering, dark-headed form lying in the bed in front of him.

“Huh?” he grunts, his voice thick with sleep as he becomes very much aware of the overall pain radiating over his whole body.

His throat burns too, even from a single word. He instinctively reaches a hand up to the reddened scar there – already a formed habit – only to scratch himself with his patient wristband.

“Do you want a blanket?” Eddie continues, his weakened voice indicating he is barely conscious, let alone aware of Steve’s discomfort.

Steve arches his back this time but it causes his chewed-up sides to ache, the bandages stiffening and contorting. Their tacky borders pinching at the already tight skin and scar tissue.

He gives up and slumps back in the chair, clutching the armrests for dear life as a twang shoots directly up his spine to his head. He runs a hand through his hair, impossible to keep from flopping in his face considering all he can do is give himself a goddamn sponge bath these days.

He should have just listened to Robin (and more than a few disgruntled nurses) when they begged him to stay in his own room.

But his room feels empty. Big and dark, just like his family home but a little more white and clinical smelling. It gives him nightmares. If he manages to settle enough to sleep that is…

It’s kinda hard when your friends are scattered throughout the bowels of the local hospital, all in varying states of distress meanwhile, outside the world has half caved in.

“Steeeve,” Eddie whines this time as he repeats, “Do you want a blanket?”

He half dry-sobs his query and Steve has no choice but to shimmy upright – thankfully, the slippery cover of his stupid seat helps him up this time.

Blanket… he finally considers and finds himself stifling a shiver.

He didn’t think to bring a blanket with him as he was much too focused on getting out of bed and down the hall to Eddie’s room. A room that is much colder than his own, which the occupant clearly knows.

Eddie’s fist is balled up in his blankets, offering them up as he raises his shaky arm.

“No,” Steve says softly, shaking his head and waving him away.

Eddie needs it more.

With a herculean effort, Steve moves the chair a few inches closer to the bed, hoping it isn’t scraping the floor or tangling up any of the wires and tubes hooked up to beeping machines – god knows where they each begin and end. His sides all but seize up as he sits back down and forces himself to correct his posture.

“But you’re cold,” Eddie frowns, his voice impossibly small.

“I’m fine,” Steve protests.

Eddie’s weak hand punches at his banket in a haphazard swish motion.

“Get into bed with me…” he mumbles, closing his eyes, “Rest with me, sweetheart.”

His head lolls to the side and Steve huffs out a laugh. Eddie is certainly on one hell of a cocktail of meds, mixed with the overall exhaustion that must come from almost dying. Steve can barely keep his own eyes open and he wasn’t anywhere near as close to it.

His heart thuds in his chest as thoughts of Eddie’s almost lifeless body rush back to his sleepy brain.

Dustin’s sobs… Robin scrambling to tear up clothes and sheets from the Upside Down version of the Munson’s trailer to make bandages… Nancy forcing everyone to focus as she devised a game plan, stopping every few moments to shoot down undead bats…

Steve screws his eyes shut and stands, bracing his arms on the sides of the chair before swiftly moving them to the bed for purchase.

At least Eddie’s right side is a little less banged up – but only just enough, Steve thinks as he hikes back the three warm layers of blankets enough to sit himself down on the bed. He swings his legs up next, clenching his jaw as every muscle in his body aches and pains from what transpired however many days ago.

The bed is a tight fit, but Steve doesn’t mind. The mattress is perhaps a fraction more comfortable than the chair, but he soon warms as he settles down and rights the blankets, smoothing them out for good measure and double-checking he hasn’t disturbed Eddie too much.

His body warms almost instantly as he rests his head beside Eddie’s on his pillow, positioned close enough that he can feel frizzed dark curls tickling his cheek. Eddie’s wispier than he expected and smells of the generic hospital soap – but at least the dried and caked-up blood is gone.

“That’s good…” Eddie coos, turning his head to face Steve, those tickling tendrils now replaced with a soft woosh of his breathing.

He can see the scar on Eddie’s cheek now. The bandage patch has been removed, exposing raw stitches today. Steve sighs, relieved by the smallest of steps forward.

Eddie can’t do much more than reach his hand out. And Steve takes it, interlacing their fingers despite the heart monitor clipped onto Eddie’s right index finger.

“Blanket’s... warm…” he mutters, nodding as he feels slumber tugging at him once again.

Eddie hums in agreeance and lightly squeezes his hand.

#i'm baaaaack (to posting - i've been sprinting my heart out)#big thanks to sandy for checking in and sending the positive vibes that got me back to writing 💖💖💖#steddielovemonth #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #healing steddie #(now lets see if i can remember my new tagging system)#tw hospital #tw medical #tw blood

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lokisgoodgirl · 8 months

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A Lot of Boning [Asgard!Loki Oneshot]

A Link to My Masterlist is HERE Summary: Asgard!Loki loses bet and must wear a corset on a night out. Loki is very pleased about this. (w/c 2.5k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Loki/corsets. Smuttish. Language. Heavy petting. Spoiled, flirty prince behaviour. Stupid stuff. Ridiculous HC lore. Asgardian crones. A/N: That tik tok wouldn't leave my brain. Sorry folks.

“A-HA, brother...you have been bested most thoroughly!” Thor’s voice boomed around the pillars, spilling over the balcony. Loki raised an eyebrow, stiffening and clenching his fists while a smile threatened to betray him.

“Indeed, brother” he purred bitterly, making sure he sounded surprised. "How awful."

In the training courtyard below, Sif held Volstagg pinned to the ground, her sword inescapably pointed to his throat. “It seems I underestimated her.” “And what of the bet, then?” Fandral coo-d, his face emerging between the brothers shoulders. Loki shot a questioning glance at the thin fingers now curled around his triceps, before looking to their owner. “I shall adhere to the stakes agreed. Obviously.”

Thor clapped Fandral on the back, chuckling loudly and shaking his head.

“Brother no one expects you to parade the Asgardian night taverns wearing a corset. Norns, Fandral was only joking. Weren’t you, Fandral?” Fandral smirked, reaching for his goblet. He tipped it briefly towards them both, before sipping.

Loki studied the man’s face, watching a tinge of pink creeping up his neck. He tilted his head.

“I very much think he was not joking, brother” Loki said calmly, seeing Thor’s jaw drop out the corner of his eye. “But never let it be said that a son of Odin reneges on his wagers.” “Loki you can’t be ser-” Loki held up a hand, eyes closed towards his brother’s protestations. “But your reputation...the scrolls of gossip which will circulate. Father." Thor's eyes widened. "Brother I implore yo-” “Enough,” Loki murmured malevolently, shooting Thor a silencing stare. The blonde’s lips hardened in a thin line, as the god of mischief shook dark hair back from his shoulders.

“The usual place?” he drawled, pushing himself away from the balustrade. Thor nodded reluctantly.

“Very well,” said Loki, with a feigned sigh of lament.

When he arrived to his chambers, the staff were dismissed with a wave of his hand.

All save one.

“Wait here,” he soothed as he passed her, trailing a knuckle down her bare bicep. Every goosebump he left in his wake was a promise. “I will have need of you.”

He smirked as she smoothed the front of her silken apron. Loki licked his lips at the memory of the taste of what lay beneath those skirts, already soaking for him he’d wager. That is a bet I wouldn’t intentionally lose, he mused as he threw open the ornate doors to his garment-room. Arms spread wide, he basked in the pungent smell of leather which overcame him. It was warm, and rich. Decadent, just like that chambermaid’s sweet little quim.

He clasped his hands ceremonially behind his back, pacing slowly forward. Loki enjoyed every faint rustle of his leather trousers, each measure thump of his boot on polished marble. The sound of his velvet-gloved fingers brushing together was like the flurry of a lovers skin. All these things and more, he always noticed in the moments before he disrobed. He could feel himself hardening already at the prospect of what was to come. The god smoothed his hair behind his ears and stretched in front of him, lacing his fingers. His knuckles cracked. He stretched his neck to one side, then the other; and with a parting of his digits – a secret compartment blossomed into view.

This was his very favourite selection of garments, each handmade by only the finest knobbled fingers among the Asgardian Crones.

Although responsible for all the royal families more intricate ceremonial costumery....these...they made only for him. For his cabinet of debauchery. And they were well rewarded.

He trailed the pads of his fingertips across displayed fabrics as he moved. Robes of chiffon and silk and leather which cut and hung to his body like honey, so much so that the very sight of his immortal frame wrapped in their embrace had been known to make his lover climax. Into every sinful negligee, every blindfold, every erotic ensemble, every fluttering tail in a well-worn crop; the Asgardian Crones had worked their spells.

‘Are you certain, my Prince,’ one had crooned doubtfully, craning closer to his sketch. Her fingers shook as she did so, tracing the lines of his elaborate request.

“Quite,” Loki had replied with the air of one who did not expect to be asked twice. She observed him craftily, creased skin trembling as one decrepit eyebrow rose. She’d always been a flirt.

“I’m not sure there’s time – tis a lot of boning, Prince Loki-” she hummed, coy undertones fresh even in the creak of her voice. He waved his hand dismissively with a sultry chuckle.

“The tales you could tell about boning, eyh Lagartha?” he purred wickedly. “I’ve heard the songs.” Lagertha’s wrinkled skin had flushed a pale pink as he’d leant across the large cutting table, ensuring to spread his fingers against the wood, making the veins she enjoyed in his hands flex.

She would be able to see down the loose tie of his tunic neckline, to the shifting ropes of muscle beneath. To his naval, most likely. The scent of him, the warmth, the pure essence of masculine, sexual power that flowed from his skin to her nostrils. He watched her cloudy pupils dilate.

A wolfish grin had spread his lips. “Or if you prefer...I could tell you some of mine” he’d winked.

The crone cleared her throat suddenly, hacking. “Are you alright, darling?” the Prince said with excruciating sensuality.

Lagertha hacked louder.

Two new crones had rounded the corner at an alarmingly slow pace. Loki rolled his eyes as they shuffled towards their ailing sister. Loki returned to a standing position. “I shall return next solstice to collect it,” Loki had said pointedly to Lagertha, making a show of stretching out each leather glove before pulling it on. He arched a brow.

Lagertha, close to expiration in her chair, nodded.

The other weavers shot him dirty looks as they began a lacklustre, synchronised fan of her face.

Loki had almost skipped back to his chambers that day. And now, as he rested his thumb beneath his chin in wonder at the finished article, he felt the same elation. He had waited for the perfect debut for this most treasured piece. Oh, how he had waited.

And finally, here it was.

Fandral thought to cast tarnish on his masculinity? On his virility? On his very power and reputation in this realm? Well, Loki thought with a smile as his eyes tracked every immaculate detail of the corset; he thinks wrong. His brother might be excused for being blinded to Loki’s ability to outplay any trickster-like attempts, but Fandral? Loki had given him far too much credit in the past, clearly.

To save time, Loki peeled the clothes from his body with magic. New garments unfurled around his limbs, having been drawn from the everyday closets outside. Tight dark chinos, and a thick cotton shirt; such a depth of green it was almost obsidian.

The thrill of unfamiliar Midgardian clothes on his body sent a shiver of anticipation up Loki’s spine. They were so light. Almost like being naked. If not for the tightness. His cock ached, heavy desire throbbing with renewed vigour. The demon thickened against his leg, each wince from the cotton pants making him hiss as he screwed his eyes shut in pleasure.

Migardians and their fascination with tightness, he mulled as he spun towards the flickering doorway.

“Girl?” he called expectantly. There was a pause, before the chambermaid’s brisk footsteps sounded, stopping abruptly in front of the door to the concealed portion of Loki’s closet. Her eyes were wide in wonder, gazing around until they stopped at his feet. She worked her way up his statuesque body, legs wide and triangular; arms crossed and straining against the shirt. “My P-prince,” she stammered, covering her eyes. Loki chuckled. “Come now, you don’t look this bashful when I come to you with sword in hand,” he teased as he straightened his back. She lowered her hands, revealing only her eyes. They shone. I really should move these ‘suits’ to the cabinet of debauchery, he pondered; watching the chambermaid squirm.

He suddenly wondered how she would fare on her knees, fumbling with the other-wordly zipper, biting her lip as she salivated impatiently for his cock. No time, he chided as he raised a hand, beckoning.

“I require your assistance with this,” he gestured to the side.

He didn’t. Not truly. But Loki Odinson knew how to wring every last screeching sliver of drama from a production. And after the time he had waited for this debut, he would make it drip until its last drop.

Her eyes grew wider. “Loki...” she murmured in awe, protocols forgotten.

The corset handcrafted by his loyal crones hung perfectly lit, showcased on the wall. Exquisite boning curved the sides, cutting inward at the perfect dimensions to cinch the sluttish nips of his taut waist.

The bodice was boned to perfection, thick strips of Nilfheimian narwal tusk holding shape. Golden flashes glinted at the shoulders, down the deep V of the neckline. His richest shade of royal green adorned the bodice, silken threads stitched so close it slid beneath the fingertips like polished glass.

“For what do you require my assistance, my Lord?” she murmured, letting her eyes fall wantonly to his curled lips. Loki slipped the corset from its display, swirling it elegantly over his arms and slotting it in place, much like a reverse waistcoat. “For this,” he said, spinning slowly on his heels. He raised his arms, raking his hair into a messy bun; fingers fastened to his scalp, exposing his neck.

The back of the corset splayed open. A long thread of ebony silk unfurled in Loki’s hand. One end of the ribbon poised upward from his palm like a snake, head pointed to the maid. It lunged towards her before stopping abruptly.

“Take it,” Loki smouldered, “it won’t bite.” The chambermaid’s trembling hands diligently wove the silk through the intricate holes of the corset, each pull of the length together making her groan gently against his back in spite of herself. She was taking her time, wondering at the creases of shirt beneath the boning. Wondering at him.

Loki’s eyes closed, the press of her fingertips between his shoulder-blades making fucking her over the nearest chaise greatly tempting. She pulled the binds tighter, looping strands with a final flourish. Loki hummed quietly, clenching. “I hope this is acceptable, my Prince” she murmured, trailing her fingers wilfully down the criss-cross of ribbon. Her breasts pushed flush to his spine, her words low and sultry. “I have not laced a corset since my lady Frigga’s.” “Do not speak of my mother,” Loki moaned quietly as he guided her hand to the crook of his thigh. His cock met her palm, the resulting squeeze rewarded with a buck of his hips. He spun towards her and guided her to the wall.

Her lungs emptied as he pressed to her, feeling her digits tugging gently at her handiwork. Loki could feel the boning press against her curves, the tight outline of his glamorous armour making her struggle for breath. His lips traced hers with the lightest of touches, her hot breath filling his throat. She thrust against the thigh pressed between her legs, gasping like a virgin as he nudged upwards to her sex.

“Pretty thing,” he whispered warm and wet into her ear. She whined, bucking against him. Loki released a dark chuckle. “Be here to undress me on my return.”

In Asgard’s busiest tavern, the evening’s festivities were in full swing. Thor stared into his tankard, watching thick bubbles pop lazily on the surface.

“Oh Fandral, what have we done?” he lamented, sliding a meaty palm further up his cheek. “He will be here at any moment. Reputation? Ruined.” Fandral scoffed, glancing at the door for the third time in as many minutes. “Do you think he’ll wear a garter?” announced Sif, swinging a leg over the bench with two large tankards in each fist. Volstagg spat ale in a cloud of laughter. "I bet he wears a garter," Sif continued seriously. "I hereby claim first attempt to rip it off with my teeth." "No fair," Fandral whined. “-Tis no matter of mirth,” Thor snapped loudly. Plates on the table rattled. Fandral patted his hand with a sigh. “Your brother knows us well enough. He is Asgard’s biggest tease. He will not wear ladies underthings - not in public anyway..." he paused, momentarily taken away. " I am most sure of it," he continued breezily. "Fragile masculinity, most likely.” But as he spoke, his face simmered with excitement.

Sif narrowed her eyes at him warily, realising in tandem with the others that the raucous tavern had grown quiet. The four of them spun to face the door, where a hundred other patrons also stared, transfixed.

“Brother?” Thor murmured disbelieving. But there, in all his splendour, was Loki.

The figure cut against the star-littered sky, the outline of his body as crisp and clear as carved marble. Thick curls spilled over his shoulders, fluttering in the nights chill. Long limbs strode rakishly over the paved floor, the click of his heels making onlookers jump as their arousal fizzed like malevolent static.

His cheekbones slashed, the determined set of his smoulder making him look like a king. A demon of the night.

Simply the sight of him moving across the floor made the captive audience hold its breath. The tight grip of the unfamiliar style of shirt to his muscles, the mercilessly cinched nip of his waist which exploded the breadth of his shoulders. A golden brooch in the crest of a snake was pinned to the centre of his chest, complimenting the lavish glint of the corset piping. The god of mischief's ordained colours were saturated by the auburn glow of candlelight. Loki smiled wickedly, winking at an unsuspecting woman grasping feverishly at her friend’s shoulder. He stood at the end of the table, spreading his arms wide before clasping them behind his back. “Well?” he asked smugly, giving them a slow spin. There were a series of thumps as members of the Asgardian public hit the floor. “You know midgardian garments are frowned upon,” Thor grumbled, casting glances over his shoulder. Loki rolled his eyes. “It’s about the ensemble, brother” he snipped. “Although I wouldn’t expect you to understand that.”

Fandral cleared his throat, standing and raising his cup towards the ceiling. “Prince Loki you look-”

��-Ravishing,” Loki drawled. “I know.” He cast a scathing glance down Fandral’s body, making his way leisurely back to his face. “Smarts, doesn’t it? To see me the victorious antithesis of your childish plot to humiliate me.” Sif snorted. “He just wanted to see you in a corset” she remarked, pushing her tankard from one hand to the other. Loki’s lips pursed, folding his arms as he spoke. “The evident stirring in his breeches betrays that much.” Fandral sat down immediately to the sound of raucous laughter round the table.

A crowd had begun to gather at a respectful distance around the dark prince, dozens of eyes combing over every deliciously wrapped inch of him. The air was bubbling with sexual energy. Hair on Loki’s arms bristled. He was just about to bestow greetings upon his inflamed public when Thor tugged his shirt sleeve.

“Brother, the gossip-scrolls will still remark on this…”

Loki scoffed, rolling his eyes. “What care have I? I look incredible brother, as you well know. Desist with your petulant jealousy.” He straightened, enjoying the wistful longing in Thor’s gaze as it swung from Loki’s cinched trunk trussed in boning to the feral, shifting stares of his lustful devotees. And tonight, that was everyone it seemed.

Loki paced around the table, settling his hands on his wary brother's shoulders. “It was supposed to be funny” Thor grumbled, shaking his head while Fandral squirmed beside him. Loki’s mouth twitched in a knowing smile as he watched the man run his palms down his thighs repeatedly. Trying to distract himself. He lowered himself, hovering between Thor and his misguided best friend.

“The wager did not include that we were to wear lace and brassiere and frill and garter. Although I do have those effects in my personal collection, too.”

He winked at Fandral, who flushed crimson.

The god of thunder folded his arms. “It’s just very...you” he whined. The envy, Loki mused, is palpable. His fingers curled around Fandral’s bicep, giving him a knowing squeeze. “Exactly, brother” Loki whispered with finality in his siblings ear. The triumphant god straightened before raising his arms. Dying embers nestling in the tavern fireplaces roared to life at the command. Tonight, he was a king. And the squeals of the crowd grew to a roar.

Tags (contd in comments x) @lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @fandxmslxt69 @icytrickster17 @multifandom-worlds @morgan-wolf @muddyorbs @buttercupcookies-blog @vanilla-daydreaming

#loki x reader #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki x reader smut #loki odinson smut #loki laufeyson smut #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki imagine #loki marvel #loki gif #loki x female reader #loki of asgard #lokismut #corset! Loki #loki

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miam0re · 11 months

Text

Overheard Fantasies | Honkai Star Rail

Warning: Fantasies(mentions) of- Group Sex/Gang Bang, Blowjobs, Cunnilingus, Anal stuff, spanking, biting, deep throating, cum swallowing, more stuff i probably missed

Summary: And there you were with your best friends, talking about your fantasies of fucking the men you've met...who happen to be hearing your conversation from the other room

Pairings: Welt Yang, Jing Yuan, Gepard X Fem!Reader (together)

Mia's Notes: Yooo This was inspired by THIS ASK asked by @cxxmine lots of love for the ask!! I wanted to include whichever men i could but Im not too good with writing group stuff so I thought I'd write for 3! If you all like it then maybe I can write more owo but yep this is it for now, I hope you enjoy it mwah mwah Ps bold text is you talking and the normal text is their reaction

“Oh, Mr.Yang? He’s such a dilf, ya know? Like I would totally spread my legs wide open for him-oh or maybe just sit on his face- and I just know that he’s got the most skilled tongue ever. Would I call him ‘daddy’? Absolutely yes. Would I start whoring out if he called me his dearest little one? You bet I would be an obedient girl for him while all the other guys watch me be good for him."

Your sweet Mr.Welt Yang coughs into his fist, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, imagining it accidentally bump against your clit while he eats you. Really, he wasn’t that much older than them in looks…but apparently, in your eyes, you considered him a ‘Daddy’. Maybe he would almost immediately get addicted to the taste of your leaking juices, lapping them up greedily the way he’s imagined so many times. Yes, he’d desire for you to be a good girl for him, he doesn’t have the time to tame you and discipline you. But maybe a few harsh bites to your thighs, leaving marks of his presence ought to do the trick.

“I’d let him play with my ass while I’m being eaten out by Welt. I just get this feeling that he has the biggest thing for asses like have you guys noticed how his eyes keep wandering down when I walk in front of him? And if you’re asking if I’d let him stuff my hole…perhaps. I bet he has a collection of toys. Yeah…I wanna use them. I would also shamelessly ride his fingers if he asked me to.”

He’s smiling to himself, a slight glimmer in his golden eyes with faint pink dusting his cheeks. You are quite the observant lass aren’t you? Seeing the way his eyes have been stealing glances at your plush ass. And since you’re so willing to permit him to have his way with you, maybe he would stuff you with one of the many plugs in his possession. All different shapes and sizes that will stimulate you till you’re convulsing and rolling your eyes to the back of your skull. If you’re good for him, maybe he’ll smack your butt to sear his touch into your skin for you to never forget. And if nothing else, he’s got his long slender fingers that he can thrust into your puckered up hole till you’re loose and prepared for his cock.

“Awww I’d love to see his face all flustered and red as he tries to keep his composed self. Definitely going to give him head in this situation. Kiss his pretty red tip and run my hands up and down his thick cock- you know he’s gotta be sporting a monster behind those pants with a body and adorable personality like that. Roll my tongue all over the length till he’s shaking and cumming on me.”

Oh my…oh dear…Gerard has gone as red as a tomato, covering his burning ears to cool them and try to not let any more of your vulgar thoughts corrupt his mind. But he’s already too far gone, imagining having your hair in a fist while pushing you down on his generous length, watching how you so professionally swallow it all up, hollowing your cheeks to vacuum around his hot dick. Oh god, he’s imagining the way you’ll drool all over him and then lick him base to tip to clean the saliva and precum. If you’ll go on looking at him with those dazed eyes, he might just shoot a heavy load down your throat, clutching the back of your neck to keep you in place as he bucks into you.

The three men accidentally make eye contact with each other, breaking the uncomfortable gaze and bouncing on their heels, hands in their pockets to adjust their growing boners.

Will any of them make the first move to talk to you? I guess it’s up to March to decide how this plays out!!

#mia.writes #mia.smut #mia.thirst #honkai star rail x reader #star rail smut #honkai star rail smut #welt yang smut #gepard smut #jing yuan smut #welt yang x reader #gepard x reader #jing yuan x reader

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nvoirs · 1 year

Text

Leon's little pet

18+ content. Nsfw warning! Kind of dark content? Leon thinks of !F reader as an object.

Poor little you, dirty and grimy from hiding for so long. But you were found non other than Leon himself thankfully.

He found you in one of the now abandoned houses, once belonging to a certain ganando. You tell him you don't know what's wrong with you're village, one day you were out and the next you come back to murder, blood and torture.

Leon looks like he's listening but all he can really think about is that cute little dress you have on, your tits showing a little. You don't have a clue honestly, it makes Leon want to take advantage of you. He'd lick his lips thoughtfully, experimenting by kissing you and you'd kiss back. Because honestly you can admit that this lean, tall, handsome, young man is arousing you with just his hard gaze.

He lets you know everything you want to know. Why are the villagers like this? Are you a spy? Are you going to kill me?

The last one certainly made him chuckle, gripping your face he'd say.

"Now why would I kill a cute, little thing like you?"

That had your heart beating fast, rubbing his hardened cock against your bare leg and then at your clothed cunt. You'd let out a small moan, making him grin ear to ear.

Anytime the ganandos gave Leon a break, he'd also take a quick break by groping your tits or sticking a hand down your dress. His favourite thing to do was finger fuck you to heaven, then pull out when you were about to climax all over his hand. He was such a meanie, but he'd make it up to you by shoving his large cock into your sensitive pussy.

His cock was large. You'd never seen one as big as Leon's, when he saw your eyes widen he'd smirk.

"What are you waiting for princess? I need that warm mouth of yours."

Placing him into your mouth, your throat moulding into the shape of his cock as you began to bob your head. You were struggling to take him as tears pricked your lash line and he grabbed a fistful of your hair. He'd shoot his warm shots of cum down your throat, praising you for your service.

"Fuck such a good girl aren't ya? Can't wait to stretch you out."

And he'd do just that, pinning you against the castle wall, tits squished and back pressed against him. He loved the way your pussy sucked him in, no.. welcomed him as he thrusted so hard you were seeing the fairies. He got you so wet it was tantalizing, you wanted to stay like this forever if it meant you could see Leon's face for eternity. Whispering nothing but down right, vile, filthy things into your perky little ear, as he sloppily fucked you to cloud nine. At this point your legs were shaking, gripping onto the stone wall in front of you. Leon would snake his fingers down to your pearly clit and rub, faster and faster till you'd squirt all over him. Gushing and spasming around his impressive length, and in return he'd stuff you absolutely full. His cum was so creamy and warm, it made your stomach flutter and he'd make sure it stayed in by plugging it with his large fingers.

"Godamn, I wish I had a vibrator on me I'd totally turn you into a squirting mess."

He was you're knight in shining armour, he has rescued you from those now uncivilised people that wanted to rip you to shreds. You just wanted to be his little pet, his little naïve pet that only listened to him.

When you guys met Luis, he joked about Leon taking you back home. God, Luis was a genius. That's exactly what he wanted and will do, he's going to take you back home with him and everyday when he'd come home from work he could just fill you up as he pleased as you sat waiting pretty as a present. All you needed was a lavish pink bow and you were set! He'd decorate your frail body with so many hickeys, neck, thighs, stomach, shoulders you name it! and Leon's already claimed it. And oh he could just cum at the sight of your face in euphoria, and that's exactly what he did over and over again possibly impregnating you this time.

Rant post tbh

#leonkennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #dark content #be warned

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unclewaynemunson · 1 year

Text

Pt5 to the Wingman Wayne AU!! | AO3 link

It doesn't take long before hanging out with Steve another time turns into hanging out multiple times a week. Being friends with him turns out to be something surprisingly easy. The many differences between them don't make it awkward or difficult to bond – on the contrary, they make for endless conversations and a never-ending stream of fun new discoveries, because it soon becomes clear that Eddie is just as fascinating to Steve as Steve is to Eddie. It soon feels like they've already known each other for years, time flies whenever they are together, and Eddie feels like Steve is the first person – except for Wayne, of course – with whom he can be completely himself. There's an easy companionship between the two of them, and it doesn't take long before Eddie has to admit to himself that he gravely misjudged the guy, prejudiced as he was by his preppy appearance and his love for sports. Steve is nothing like the closeted Chads Eddie has crossed paths with over the last few years: he's comfortable with his sexuality, comfortable in his body, comfortable walking around town in the company of Eddie “the freak” Munson... He's actually an amazing friend in every sense of the word.

Which is why it is a problem that one night, Eddie fails to fall asleep because his mind keeps wandering to Steve's brown eyes, the chest hair peeking out of his stupid polo shirt, the shape of his fingers... And his first thought when he wakes up in the morning is about the moles on Steve's cheek, and – worst of all – those goddamn pink lips.

'What the fuck?' he mumbles to himself as he gets out of bed. He hasn't had his coffee yet, his stupid brain should know that it's forbidden to have any confusing thoughts this early in the morning.

As if all of that isn't concerning enough yet, Wayne is sitting at the table and gives him some creepy all-knowing grin when Eddie walks into the kitchen, like the fucking psychic he is when it comes to his nephew.

'What?' Eddie growls at him.

'Nothin',' says Wayne, slightly too innocent. 'Made you coffee.'

'Shouldn't you be asleep?' Eddie asks as he flops down into the creaky old chair opposite of Wayne.

'Swapped shifts with Jimmy for the week,' Wayne tells him. He rolls his eyes as he adds, 'Had a big fight with his wife again.'

Eddie knows much more than he wants to about Wayne's colleague from the dayshift: every once in a while, Jimmy will ask Wayne to swap their schedules as a tactic to avoid his wife. In spite of the sad implications that gives about the man's marriage, Eddie selfishly hopes Jimmy will keep having many more fights with his wife, because that means he gets to see more of his uncle.

'Stupid straight people,' Eddie comments under his breath as he takes a sip of his coffee; it tastes perfect, the way only Wayne can make it. 'Does that mean you'll be making me coffee for the whole week?' He stretches out his arm while balancing on the two rear legs of his chair to reach for the box of Honeycombs on the kitchen counter behind him.

Wayne snickers. 'Wouldn't get used to it, boy,' he says.

Eddie stuffs a fistful of dry Honeycombs into his mouth. 'Maybe you could blackmail Jimmy into swapping shifts forever,' he says, his words muffled by the food in his mouth.

Wayne cocks an eyebrow at him. 'Maybe I should. I'd finally get to teach you some proper breakfast manners like you aren't a grown-ass man.' He lights up a cigarette and Eddie motions for him to give him the pack, so he can follow his example.

'So...' says Wayne, blowing the smoke towards the ceiling. 'You gonna tell me who it is?'

'Who what is?' Eddie asks, blankly.

Wayne only shrugs.

'How do you even know?!'

'It's written all over your face, boy.'

'It doesn't matter because it's stupid anyway.'

'Is it Steve?'

Eddie shoots him a deadly glare. 'Jesus, this is getting unfair!' he exclaims. 'Can't a guy just have his secrets in peace in this house?!'

But Wayne only snickers at his little outburst.

'Steve's a good guy, Ed,' he says. 'I know you're probably not exactly waitin' for your old uncle's approval, but if you ask me, he's much better than any of those guys you used to mess around with. Those um... Chads.'

Eddie had always respected the wishes of the guys he was seeing, tried to be patient, tried to be understanding of their processes... So he'd always call them Chad when he talked about them with Wayne. Wayne would always get those worried looks on his face whenever Eddie was talking about one of the Chads, so after Chad the Fourth, Eddie had decided to stop dating once and for all. That hadn't made Wayne's worried looks disappear, though – it had made him come home with that stupid piece of paper with Steve's number on it. The stupid piece of paper that is now taped to the wall next to the phone, gross as it is, because that's how often Eddie has been using it these days.

'I know he's better than the Chads,' he finally admits with a sigh. 'But I totally friendzoned him right from the start, man. Maybe he was actually interested, but I kept turning him down in the bluntest possible ways, so now he certainly doesn't see me that way anymore – I made absolutely sure of that all by myself!'

Wayne lets out an understanding hum, then takes the last drag of his cigarette before carefully pressing it out in the ashtray.

'Can't you just... talk to him?'

Eddie groans in frustration. Why does Wayne always have to make everything sound way too simple?

Pt6

I’m kinda starting to feel like a broken record here but thanks everyone for all your heartwarming comments and tags, I can’t even explain how happy all those responses are making me <3

Taglist: @phantypurple @love-kurdt @eddiemunsonswife @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @swimmingbirdrunningrock @paintsplatteredandimperfect @stevesbipanic @momotonescreaming @yourebuckingkiddingme @th3-r4t-k1ng @messrs-weasley @moonshadows-13 @im-sam-fucking-winchester @xjessicafaithx @yournowheregirl @henderdads @lwhoscribbles @courtjestermunson @steveisabicon @rainydays35 @cassaloopa @skeliiix @thesuninyaface @silversnaffles @jestyzesty @4nemo1egend @ace-of-foxes @harringtonsgother @thegingervulcan @snapshotmaestro @thereindeerlady @jillfriend @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @gamerdano @spectrum-spectre @zerokrox-blog @00biscuit @mixsethaddams @steve-the-hairrington @episcogoth @caligularib @gaydrieeen @winterbuckwild @bookbinderbitch @daysarestranger @nonbinary-eddie-munson @fangirltofangod @solalasoforth @obsessivlyme @slit-wrist @fxndom-hoe @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @joruni @roastingdragon @lenore1232 @princessstevemunson @cuips-not-cute @munsonsuccubus @justalittlefungi @cherrycolas-things @nitrilexam @thepainisspicy @hopefulslothcollecter @whatisreggieshortfor @doctorqueensanatomy @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @sadcanadianwinter @iamsotiredman @orangeandthefairroadkill @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @b-icetea @freddykicksasses @faery-god @poleaxed-aloe @mamaclownhunter @paperbackribs @blvckwidow @mightbeasleep @butuglypeoplefucktoo @lolawon @angryavocadofrog @iwouldsail @livelaughlexa @magpiemuseum @shushuac @ravnlinn @homohomohoe @kissaphobic-kas @cmackz93 @your-greatest-queen @alltheweirdkidsinoneplace @soulsofstarsliveinyourveins @ceaselessly-watching @anaibis @enchantedlandcoffee @fluffy-alpaca-of-darkness @nelotegreitic @mollymawkwrites @evix-syne666 @redfreckledwolf @ajamlessbaby @connected-dots @nothisisntmyname @steddieassheg0es @anxiouseds @summer1066 @loopholesinmydreams @mareydi @lillemilly @this-is-moony-lovegood @qomrades @mad-h-w @gay-stranger-things @blanketlicker @fandomcartographer @fandomcartographer @adankrivervalleynearyou @undreamingscatworld @theysherobinbuckley @i-wanna-combust

#you thought this fic was gonna be about steddie? nah man steve's nothing but a plot device wayne is the real hero here #sorry i promise steve will actually be present again in the next part #my love for wayne is just too strong it can't be contained #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #wayne munson #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #stranger things #fruity ficlet #wayne munson my beloved

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beababoobies · 2 months

Note

this is an embarrassing ask but can u write sir pentious x succubus reader headcanons, sorry if this lacks any detail im gathering dust from sir pentious x reader stuff 😪 its okay if u dont wanna and/or aren't comfortable with it.

giggles maliciously. why yes. yes I can, lovey. SIR PENT X SUCCUBUS!READER HCS

the normal warnings you’ll find under a succubus-centric post. minors dni, cvm eating, cvm-centric (LOLLL)

✖️You had decided… finally, to become a better person. You couldn’t stay down here forever, and you honestly… had a guilty conscience from how many sinners thought you were in love with them after using them. So this.. hotel it was.

✖️In fact - you might’ve even liked it here. The people were so sweet, some even kind of.. hot, thought you brushed that out of your mind. Life was easier in here.

✖️Or so you thought. See, a succubus can only go so long without a fresh batch of food. And after a week? You were starving. You couldn’t sleep that night, curled up in on yourself, whining softly as your body begged and writhed for someone to milk dry. Slick ran down your thighs, you were drooling so much, so painfully ready to pray on a tired honey sinner.

✖️So that’s why; when a certain snake boy you had been not-so-secretly crushing on came to your door in the middle of the night quietly asking you to let him help you, despite your protests, you pushed away your pride and pounced on him.

✖️There wasn’t a single moment spent wasted on foreplay, or teasing, he was already hard, both of his cocks were - at the sight of you shaking and whining, trying not to drool all over the floor. So when his cocks spring out, you wasted no time going to work on them with your mouth.

✖️Lucky for you, double the cocks meant double the cum. As soon as he whined and grabbed a fistful of your hair, you knew you had him. Swallowing everything his first cock gave you graciously, feeling that pleasureful and warm sensation in your gut of finally being fed, you let out a satisfied sigh as you pulled your mouth from his cock, now dripping with drool, and went straight for the other before he could protest.

✖️As soon as you were done pulling cum from him with your mouth, you practically pounced on top of him. Whines of “I-i’m still ssssensitive, my dear-“ made you practically delirious. Like a starved man who has finally gotten his first take of a five-star meal, you used your hand to push his cocks together, and dropped down on them with an obscene squelch. ✖️And god, the stretch was something you had been craving since you first got down here. It was almost embarrasing how quickly you came, slick practically pouring down his bases as he whined beneath you, biting his lip like he might draw blood.

✖️”feels ‘s good baby, thank you for letting me milk you..” you drawled out as he whined and nodded frantically, hips bucking up into yours as you rode him, feeling your walls clench around his cocks was something he wouldn’t have imagined ever happening. He hadn’t even been with anyone since he’d gotten down here. So to watch a pretty succubus that he’d been obsessed with since the moment he’d seen her walk into the hotel bounce so greedily on him had him cumming almost immediately after you.

✖️Needless to say, he passed out under you. After five rounds, he was nearly shooting blanks inside of you, and you were deliriously full, tummy bulging ever so slightly at the amount of cum that has been shot inside you, ten big loads not or mention the ones you’d pulled from him with your mouth.. even just thinking about it made you feel hungry again. But you had been fed, and so you collapsed on top of him, cocks still nestled inside you, gently falling victim to slumber as his arms wrapped around you.

A/N: kekekekeke.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel #hellaverse #hazbin sir pentious #sir pentious #sir pentious x you #sir pentious x reader #snake man supremacy #AHHHHH #succubi #:3 heehee

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ruh--roh-raggy · 5 months

Text

Home Sweet Home (William Afton x Wife! Reader) - Part 6

Hello hello! Part 6 of Home Sweet Home and we get to hear about Will and reader's engagement!!! Super fluffy, super sweet, thank you to @yellowbunnydreams for letting me be insane and for bouncing ideas around with me, you're the best.

WARNINGS: Talk of feeling worthless, 99% fluff

You can find my Masterlist here!

Word Count: 2,089

Part 5 - Part 7 (TBA)

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

William held your hand as he drove, his thumb languidly running over your knuckles as a soft tune crackled from the radio. The two of you had almost entirely finished unpacking, your week off together slowly winding down with every discarded cardboard box. You both decided that you were due for a much needed break, neither of you stopping to do so much as take a breather the past couple days. “I'm telling you, I wouldn't risk it. Henry might shoot you if he sees you trying to slip back into parts and services.” You chuckle, giving your husband's hand a soft squeeze.

“Well, unfortunately for him, I need my tools. That leaky sink isn't going to fix itself and I don't have the right size wrench at the house to do it.” He laughs as you pull into the lot. The bright sign of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria welcoming you as the lone beacon in the night. William hops out of the car, walking around to your side in order to open the door for you. He wraps an arm around your shoulders as you stand, pulling you into his side and placing a kiss to the top of your head. This place had become a second home to the both of you, it having played a backdrop for some of the most pivotal moments of your and your husband's relationship, the old building held a very special place in your heart. You're greeted with the familiar sound of arcade machines pinging and the excited screams of children as they race around, fists clamped tightly around their winnings of bright orange tickets.

“Well, howdy you two! Isn't this a nice surprise!” Henry approaches you, arms already open for a hug as he greets you jovially.

“I still owe my girl that pizza.” William chuckles, clapping Henry on the back as he pulls him into a tight hug. Henry turns to you, laughing slightly as he asks.

“Well what toppings would you like on that little lady? I'll gladly pop back into the kitchen and put in a special order just for you.” you can't help but roll her eyes at the sound of his customer service tone breaking through.

“Just pepperoni Henry, thank you.” She smiles.

“We’re just going to pop back to parts and services, I have to fix some stuff at the house.” Will gently takes you by the wrist, tugging you towards the back of the restaurant before Henry has a chance to protest.

“The two of you haven't even been in that house a week and you managed to break something?” He asks with a laugh. “What? Get a little too frisky in the shower and rip the faucet off the wall?” You can't help but giggle at the sight of your husband's cheeks darkening.

“Leaky tap in the kitchen.” You decide to explain the situation before Henry has a chance to tease Will even more. “I promise I won't let him start working.”

“You have ten minutes.” He jokes, waving a finger at both of you before heading towards the kitchen. You smile as a kid rushes past you towards the stage show that was just beginning to start.

“You know, even after all this time I still love watching them perform.” You muse with a small laugh. Your hand slides into William’s, the two of you exchanging a smile as you head towards parts and services. The two of you slipped from the chaos of the pizzeria into the nearly silent hallway, William had always liked to be kept as far away from the main room as possible, he would always argue that it lowered the chance of a kid finding their way down to his workshop and getting hurt, but you knew it was just because he liked the quiet. He pulls his ring of keys from his pocket, unlocking the door without much thought as the two of you head inside. William lets out a sigh of relief as he kicks the door shut.

“Silence at last, I don't know how he stands being out there all day.” He chuckles, sliding an arm around your waist and pulling you to him. “It feels like it's been years since we were in here together.” You roll your eyes, sliding your hands over his chest as you turn yourself to face him.

“I'm sorry, years? I think I remember you having me bent over that work bench a couple weeks ago.” You smirk, making your husband chuckle before he captures your lips in a heated kiss. You let out a soft hum as you melt into him, his beard scratchy against your soft skin as you held each other tightly. He pulls back from you, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip. His hands drop to your hips, lifting you up onto one of the counters that lined the walls with ease. You look around the room with a fond expression, a nostalgic look your husband didn't miss.

“Lots of memories in this room, huh rabbit?” Your eyes snap to your husband, a soft smile on his face as he studies you.

“I guess you could say that.” You giggle, fidgeting with a ratchet you had found by your side. Your smile widens as you watch your wedding ring glint in the golden afternoon light. “Do you remember when we got engaged?” You ask quietly.

“How could I forget?” He chuckles, straightening up and walking over to you. “It was the day the most beautiful woman in the world agreed to be my wife, of course I remember.”

You slammed through the door of parts and services, making William jump and the machine part he had situated in his lap clatter to the floor. “Bunny?” His confused and concerned tone reached your ears and the sound alone was enough to make you break down in tears. The moment he realized the state you were in, William was up out of his chair and rushing to your side. “Honey, what's wrong? Are you hurt?” He wraps his strong arms around you, pulling you into his chest. He shushes you quietly, waiting for your hiccuping and sniffling to quiet down before asking you again. “Baby, what happened? Talk to me.”

“I just… It’s stupid Will, I don't really want to talk about it.” He shakes his head, rubbing his hands up and down your arms to try and keep you calm.

“It's not stupid bunny. If it matters enough to you that it makes you cry it matters to me.” He reminds you in a calm tone. “Tell me what's the matter, baby.” You take a few deep breaths, wiping at your face roughly with your hands.

“I ran into some girls I went to high school with and it just reminded me how far behind all of them I am.” You couldn't meet his eyes. At this point you didn't even know why William still wanted to be with you. He was smart, successful, ungodly handsome. You were just you. Still working the same job at the pizzeria, you weren't married, didn't have any kids, didn't have any accomplishments to show for yourself. “They've all got these big important jobs and drive fancy cars and they have these amazing wonderful lives with their husbands and I… I’m nothing.” Will stood there, staring at you with a slack jawed expression.

Were you being serious? William noticed the way tears pricked at your eyes, the way you crossed your arms over your chest as you leaned against the workbench, your lip trembling in frustration as your gaze looked anywhere but at him. He lets out a huff, his eyes darting around his workshop. He grabbed the mechanism he had been working on, wrapping one of the protruding wires around his hand, tugging it free with a loud snap. He pushes tools around the crowded space, letting out a satisfied noise when he finds the wire strippers he was searching for. He clips them on about halfway down the wire, shucking off the bright red insulated coating with ease to reveal the shining copper underneath. He takes the end of it, twisting the strands together tightly before taking a pair of cutters and snipping off the cable. He takes a ring terminal and crimps it on one side of the cord, on the other end he crimps on a connector, slipping it through the terminals loop before placing a bright yellow plastic cap on it. He carefully forms it into a neater circle before taking long, fast strides in your direction. He grabs your hand in his, sliding the makeshift ring into place on your finger.

“I promise you, tomorrow morning I’m going to go buy you the real thing. But, for right now,” He holds your hands tightly in his, silver eyes locking onto yours as Will poured his heart out to you. “I am in love with you, I have been since the beginning. There isn't a morning that I wake up, or a time where I go to sleep where I don't think about just how goddamn lucky that I am to have you. You are the air in my lungs, the reason my heart keeps beating, bunny you are my entire world. I'm sorry that it took you bursting in here almost in tears for me to finally say all of this but if I'm being entirely honest I was terrified to admit just how deeply in love with you I am. Out of everyone you could have had you somehow chose me and for the life of me I still can't understand why. How could an angel like you ever love someone like me? It doesn't matter where you think you compare to any of those women because I know that you are the most incredible, talented, smartest, most loving woman I have ever met, I could never love someone more than how much I love you.” You felt hot tears streaming down your cheeks, your hands trembling in Will’s strong grip.

“Will you be my wife?”

“Yes.” Your voice comes out barely above a whisper, still not fully believing what you were hearing. You slowly begin to nod your head, slowly shaking it faster as you repeat your answer with growing excitement. “Of course I'll marry you, I love you so much.” You let out a sniffly laugh as you pull him into a passionate kiss.

You twist your wedding ring around your finger, your eyes drifting up to your husband as he steps in front of you. He holds out a recreation of your stand-in engagement ring, a small bashful smile lacing his lips. “And after all this time you're still mine.” He remarks quietly.

“I'd marry you all over again if I could.” You pull your bottom lip between your teeth. His hands slide over your hips, hiking you to the edge of the workbench you had situated yourself on. His eyes scan over your face hungrily, his steely gray eyes darkening as a smirk spreads across his features. He guides your legs around his waist, letting out a groan before his lips crash against yours. He wraps a hand loosely around your throat, angling your jaw to deepen the kiss. You let out a soft gasp as he nips at your bottom lip, allowing him to effortlessly slip his tongue into your mouth. He lets out a soft, satisfied hum against your lips.

The door bursts open behind you, “Oh, for Christ’s sake! Lock the door you animals!” Henry exclaims as he slaps a hand over his eyes. William chuckles as he pulls away from you, leaving you utterly breathless.

“Relax, we’re both fully clothed.” He groans, making you giggle. Henry holds a pizza box in his hand.

“Go home and enjoy this, I don't want to see either of you back in this building until Monday.” He waves a finger at them, you couldn't help but laugh at the fact he still chastised both of you like children. Will motions for you to follow, figuring since he had what he needed you could head out. Henry walks the two of you out to your car, pulling you into a tight hug before you slip into the passenger seat, the pizza tucked safely onto your lap. Will stood outside the car talking to Henry too quietly for you to hear, but from the giddy expression on your husband’s best friend's face you knew they were up to something.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Tag list: @yellowbunnydreams @zoey5252 @redflowery @loudchaosking @weirdoartist21 @residentevilbeast @lokanda @emmbny @yukkkiki @dij-ology

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telemi · 2 years

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Hi can i request hurt/comfort probably with ayato, childe and diluc where they're too busy and the reader confronted them about it but they just shrug it off and the reader becames tired and leave? ;;

growing tired — ft. ayato, childe, diluc

ִֶָ𓂅 a flower that once bloomed . . .

꒰ cw ! ꒱ hurt to comfort, gn!reader, not proofread ?!

K. AYATO

it had been days since you last saw ayato. he had been busy... as the servants have said. he neither made the effort to show himself nor spend time with you. even getting a glance of his blue hair is hard to do because: 1.) you wake up and he’s not there, presumably at work. 2.) he rarely sleeps in your bedroom now. it’s like your shared bedroom has no use to him at all!

when you finally decided to confront him about it, he doesn’t look at you and instead he focuses on the documents on his table. “can we talk about this later? i have important matters to attend to.” he shoos you away like some sort of animal as he turns his head away and just leaves you there. with your fists clenched and your eyes dull, your lips quiver slightly and you smile weakly — “i see, okay, let’s talk later then.”

after his work is done, he finally realizes what he just said. he rushes back to your bedroom, only to notice that you’re not there. huh, not a big deal right? you’re probably outside. when he steps outside however, you were nowhere in sight, and that’s when he panics. he shouts, screams, yells your name but to no avail. the servants haven’t seen you either so just where could you be?

as the sun sets with no news of your whereabouts, he became restless. just then thoma came running to him and told him that he saw you silently enter the premises of the estate, and ayato is more than relieved to hear that. please, please, please be alright — he chants repeatedly, hoping that you weren’t hurt by anyone.

as you remove your shoes, a sudden force collapses from behind you and a familiar scent engulfs your senses. oh, how you’ve missed this. he clings to you like you’re his lifeline and his whole body trembles uncontrollably. “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have said that. it was wrong of me and—”

“ayato, hey, it’s fine.” you ease his worries and hush him quietly. turning your front to him, you place your palm on his cheek, leaning in close and leaving a soft kiss on his lips. he softens against your touch and keeps a firm, loving gaze on you. “please don’t ever leave me like that.”

you tilt your head, confused. “hm? i was merely taking a walk though?” oh.

CHILDE

last month, childe brought you to meet his family in snezhnaya. their first impressions of you were great! they basically loved you already <33 but childe wasn’t the most diligent when it comes to your relationship. just a week ago, he left you at home to finish up some ‘stuff’ at his workplace. he didn’t specify much but that’s pretty much what he said.

at first you didn’t mind his absence that much, teucer and tonya kept you company while his parents kept talking to you about how ajax was such a cute baby. they showed you his baby album yes. but as time went on, you realized that it was lonely without him. no cuddles, hello’s, or late night talks — nothing. so when he comes back home with a huge, thick coat wrapped around him, you engulf him in a big hug before he pushes you away harshly shortly after. “don’t touch me. let’s talk later, i’m tired.” he tells you with a tone filled with exhaustion and you nod your head thoughtfully, not wanting to disturb him any longer.

after a few hours of laying down on your shared bedroom, he finally shoots up from the mattress and rubs his temples in realization. shit, what an idiot he is. he calls for your name repeatedly but no one answered, it is at that moment where he starts to worry. he asks teucer if he had seen you but the little boy simply shook his head ‘no’. he asks his older siblings if they had seen you yet he was only met with another shake of their heads again. just where could you be?

after a few minutes of panicking, he hears the front door open and it reveals you with his mother carrying a bag of groceries. you stop by your tracks when you make eye contact with him, but before you can say a simple ‘hello’, he runs up to you and hugs you tightly. “ ‘m sorry, i shouldn’t have done that, no— i will never do it again. please don’t leave me.” his voice quavers slightly while you cage your hands behind is back, dropping your groceries and soothing him quietly. “i will never. it’s all right, ajax.”

and he swears he could tear up right there and then if it weren’t for his family looking at the two of you like they were watching a romance show.

DILUC

diluc had been out of it lately. out of the manor, out of your life — everything. he just says that he has some work to do outside of town and that you shouldn’t concern yourself with such matters. for ten consecutive days, he still hasn’t returned home and you started to get anxious. what if he got into trouble? or perhaps danger? just thinking about it makes you dread. but when he comes home completely unscathed, you were more than relieved.

“diluc, how have you been? do you need a bath? i can tell adelinde to—”

“stop. i’m tired, don’t bother me for a while.” he sighs against his palm as he passes by you like you were a nobody. “oh, okay..” you grip your fingers in a state of both anxiousness and relief as you retreat to the living room.

he enters the master bedroom and flumps on the soft mattress. i can clean this up later, he thinks before he drifts into sleep. when he finally awoke from his slumber it was already midnight and you were nowhere to be found.

....

not a big deal. you probably went to the bathroom. a few minutes passed and you still didn’t return. okay, now he was getting restless.

did you leave? it was all his fault, why did he have to say something so stupid earlier. stupid, idiotic diluc ragnvindr.

he gets up from his position and walks out the door with a blank, but worried expression on his face. the mansion was quiet, mostly because the workers and servants are all asleep. he slowly walks down the stairs and the moment he stepped down the last step, his heart was crushed at the sight of you. your body was sleeping on the couch, clearly uncomfortable, but still you made room for it. he approaches you and kneels down, placing his forehead onto yours while letting out a shaky breath, “thank goodness.”

he lifts you up gently as to not disturb your peaceful sleep and slowly brings you up the stairs to your shared bedroom. he lays you down gently and brushes off any stray hair away from your face. his hand strokes the side of your face and he whispers underneath his breath, “i’m sorry, my love.” even though you were asleep, you felt as if something sweet brushed over your thoughts and you could never be happier.

🏷️ — ( taglist ) : @kujuo, @yonaraee, @modmochi, @thirtyn1ne, @elizabethrosedarling, @albenyx, @deathkat657, @kazu-topia , @starfellforyou (refer to this post if you want to be tagged in my future works)

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la-petite-lapin · 24 days

Text

Double the Love | Part Ten

Double the Love masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x female civilian!OC Word Count: 3.0k (whew) Series warnings (may change between chapters): 18+ Minors DNI, angst, mentions of death, mentions of violence, swearing, OC has anxiety, suggestive content, allusions to sex, polyamory, M/M/F

Gaz and Price find out

The week passes without incident. If anything, it's perfect.

During the day, I go to work. In the evenings, I come home to the two most perfect men in the world. Dinner is cooked - the table laid and the dishes washed - and I have a night of snuggling with my favourite people to look forward to.

Come the arrival of the weekend, our plans with the taskforce have been adjusted slightly. After a text exchange with Gaz, we've arranged a trip to a nice beer garden near his parents' house instead of them all coming to the apartment. He seemed a little confused at first, but didn't push his questioning any further when I told him that I needed to talk to John about something.

Something that I thought would be better raised on neutral ground.

Every waking hour this past week, I've been agonising over what to say to John - planning a way to tell him about my relationship with the boys. Now that I know it's not just a fling or a bit of fun for them, it's made me re-evaluate things. Above all else, I need him to know.

Johnny is on the cusp of making a full recovery and if - when - him and Simon get pulled back into active duty, I need John to keep them safe for me. I know that he'd lay down his life to protect them already - they're his boys, after all - but I want him to know just how important they are to me. That and, in all the time that I've known him, I've never been able to keep anything hidden from him for long.

The last thing I want is to blurt it out at the worst possible time later on down the line.

Even as we're driving to the beer garden, I'm jittery with nerves, twisting the oversized sleeve of my cardigan around and around over my fist. Every once and a while, Si tears his eyes away from the road ahead to shoot me a worried glance. Johnny's been kind enough to pretend not to notice, chattering away as a form of distraction from his seat in the back, leaning over the centre console to stay included.

Not that he's missing much. I've barely spoken since we woke up this morning.

Both of them know how important this is to me. How important it is that everything goes right. That I tell John first.

Ever since Alex died, John has been there for me. He stepped up like a second father, having a hand in raising me despite the fact that I was already way past my formative years when we met.

Hence my worry.

I'm about to tell the man who I view as a father that I'm sleeping with not one, but two of his best soldiers. People who Gaz - even though he meant well - has told me that he views as a second family. And I can't help but worry that this might all be too much for him. That it might damage my relationship with him in some fundamental, irreparable way, or worse - that it might put a strain on his relationship with the boys.

"Stop fussing about something that hasn't even happened yet, love," Simon says from the driver's seat, voice deep and full of gravel as usual.

It looks like the grace period has ended then.

"How are you not nervous?" I bite back. It's impossible to keep the edge out of my voice, and I immediately regret snapping at him.

Logically, I know that it's not their fault I'm so anxious, but I can't help getting defensive.

There's so much going on - so many small things that are shifting around to accommodate this new, massive change in my life. It's things that I hadn't even thought about before; stupid stuff like trying to plan dates, navigating how to introduce them to people, and doing things as a three that would normally only involve two people. Previously insignificant things that now feel like a field of landmines, formerly a peaceful meadow that I didn't even have to think about. That I took for granted.

"What's got ye so pent up, lassie?" Johnny asks softly. His hand reaches out from the backseat, the warm, familiar weight of it coming to rest on my shoulder.

I lean into his touch, allowing myself to bask in the casual display of affection for a moment before letting out a pitiful huff.

"Everything."

"Explain."

"I... I-" Be honest. "John might hate me after this. He might think that I set out to make this happen; that I'm compromising the integrity of your taskforce by being with you the way I am. By being a distraction. And he might... he might see me differently when he finds out about the three of us being together." I can sense Simon gearing up to protest in my peripheral vision, so I stare straight ahead through the windscreen as I carry on, unwavering. "And then there's the fact that Winnie is going to be home from France soon, and you're going to leave and go back to work. You won't even let me go to the barracks, so when you're between deployments we'll have to live under Winnie's feet - which isn't fair to her or us. And it's going to kill me inside when you go no contact... what if I really need to talk to you and you aren't available? And I won't be able to make it better by talking to John either, because he'll be gone too, or he won't be talking to me..."

My rambling comes to an abrupt halt; palms clammy as I desperately gulp down a breath of fresh air. The car is silent save for the faint hum of the engine. Johnny's fingers lightly squeeze my shoulder, offering some much-needed reassurance. The contact grounds me; centres my thoughts.

"Well," Si began, clearing his throat. I might have been imagining it, but I could've sworn that there was a subtle shake to his voice. A hint of nervousness. "Maybe the three of us could look for a place together? Close enough to the apartment that you can visit Winslow whenever you want."

My heart grew two sizes inside my chest.

The steely, aloof Simon "Ghost" Riley himself was suggesting that we get a place of our own. A home. Something that the two of them never had before now. Before me.

It takes a considerable effort on my part not to tear up, especially as I spot the road marker for the beer garden on the narrow country lane up ahead.

"You would do that for me?" I ask, tone brimming with barely-contained emotion.

Simon nods, indicating right and easing the car into the car park. Once we're parked up, the engine switched off and stationary, he turns to look over his shoulder at Johnny. I watch them; the look that they share loaded with such love and mutual understanding.

It's not like it was before. I don't feel that undercurrent of jealousy that I used to - there's no cold, ugly thing clawing inside my chest. No; I know that I'm included in that affection. I'm not an outsider anymore.

And it makes me feel ashamed.

Ashamed for getting so caught up in how everyone else might perceive this. Ashamed for being self-conscious of something so beautiful and pure and sweet that the three of us share.

"'ah think we should all get on the internet tonight and start lookin'," Johnny adds, running the calloused pad of his thumb along the dip of my collarbone. "Start gettin' some viewings booked in. I don't know how much longer I'm gonna be on injury leave for, lassie, and I'll be happier knowing that we're all set up before Si and I leave."

"I've already marked some places for you two to look at," a gravelly voice with a Manchester accent states.

My head whips around to Simon and the jerk of Johnny's hand on my shoulder tells me that he's done the same. Sure enough, Simon's cheeks and ears are tinged with a fierce blush, hazel eyes refusing to directly meet my gaze.

When he notices our attention, he looks up, scowling at both of us. "What?"

Johnny laughs, only earning him an even sharper glare and a growled oh fuck off.

"There's nothing wrong with it, Si," I say, trying to keep the amusement out of my tone in case he thinks I'm laughing at him. Because that went down so well last time. "It's cute."

Si's expression turns deadpan as he looks at me.

Admittedly, that may have been the wrong thing to say to him - my 6'7, scar-flecked army lieutenant.

Hoping to quell some of that ire, I unbuckle my seatbelt and lean forward in my seat, closing the distance between us in to press a sweet, lingering kiss to his lips. If anything, it only makes him blush harder.

Johnny whines from the back. "Where's mine? 'ah do adorable shit all the time."

Before he can complain any more, I lean back over the centre console and kiss him too. But - ever the crafty one - he snakes a hand around the back of my neck, tangling his fingers into the loose strands of my hair and angling my head as he deepens the kiss.

Ignoring the impatient huff from Si, Johnny presses something - a button hidden along the edge of my chair - and the backrest thuds down, landing on the vacant seat beside him. With strong hands and practiced ease, the Scotsman hauls me from the front passenger side and onto his lap. Calloused hands find purchase on my thighs as I scramble to straddle him.

Every worry melts away as Johnny's warm, rough hands slip under the skirt of my summer dress, blunt nails raking over the skin of my ass and hips, sending a shiver skittering down my spine. I groan, arching into him - savouring the moment.

"Can't you do this later?" Simon grumbles. My head snaps over my shoulder to see him, watching us intently, eyes hazed with that far-away, hungry look that he gets whenever he's turned on.

"Jealous because you can't fit back here too?" I ask teasingly, punctuating it with a drawn-out grind of my hips against the front of Johnny's faded jeans.

Johnny whines and Simon's eyes flare with the challenge.

"Trust me, I can," he managed with gritted teeth. Just as he unclips his seatbelt - expression filled with lustful promise - his phone pings with a message alert. One quick glance has him groaning for an entirely different reason that Johnny. "We'll finish this tonight at home. Gaz said Price is wondering where we are."

I swallow, all of that worry tumbling back in without the promise of Johnny and Simon to distract me.

"Fucksake!" Johnny complains, lifting his hands to drag them down his face. "Yer tellin' me 'm gonna have to look my boss in the eye, telling him 'm fuckin' Tali with a tent in my trousers?"

Simon grins, a wicked, brutal thing. "Yep. And I'm going to be smiling the whole time."

Gaz has good taste.

I thought the beer garden would just be a bog-standard grass-and-some-benches type of thing, but I'm pleasantly surprised by the sight waiting for us when we step out of the open patio doors at the side of the pub. Half of the space is decked, with a railing and steps leading down to a semi-circle of wooden, shed-like structures, housing tables with built-in benches. There are still normal tables, scattered around in the open space with large, white parasols to offer shade from the blaring sun, but I can't see John or Gaz amongst the people there.

"They're in shed number five apparently," Simon supplies, sliding his phone into his back pocket. He points in the direction of a shed off to the side, the wooden siding painted a mockingly cheerful shade of yellow.

I look to him and Johnny in turn before making my best attempt at schooling my features into a smile. The flash of concern in Johnny's eyes is enough to tell me that it looks as pitiful as it feels.

Placing those large hands of his on my shoulders, he smiles down at me. I want to kiss him, but I know that Gaz and John have probably already seen us - watching from the open doorway of the shed. It's a risk I can't afford to take right now.

"Lassie," Johnny says in his most soothing voice, hands running up and down the lengths of my arms before stopping at my wrists, lacing my fingers with his. "You'll be fine. We'll be there the whole time; we won't leave ya alone out there." Then, ducking down until his lips brush against the shell of my ear, he adds, "We'll make it up to ye tonight."

When he pulls away, a smug, cocky half-smile on his face, I'm blushing furiously - cheeks burning with heat.

Si takes one look at me and lets out an exasperated sigh. "Brilliant. Can you two not keep it in your pants for five minutes? Behave, children."

With that, he marches off ahead, leaving us to trail behind at a much more leisurely pace. A few feet away from the doorway to the bright yellow shed, I untangle my fingers from Johnny's, wanting to keep some sense of normalcy for just a little while before I have to break the news.

A quiet, cowardly part of me wants one of the boys to do it for me - even though we all agreed that it was better coming from me.

Sucking in another deep breath, I relax my face and step into the shed behind Johnny. Gaz and John are on one side the table, Simon and Johnny naturally slotting in beside one another on the other. Before I can sit down next to John - the side where there is slightly more space - Johnny grabs onto my hand, guiding me down into the tiny gap between him and the shed wall.

I giggle as he jostles himself, bumping his hip against Si's repeatedly in an attempt to give me some more room, and I look up just in time to catch the tail-end of a glance between John and Gaz. My throat dries out.

"So... how are the ribs healing, Soap?" John asks, dark eyes homing in on the Scotsman.

Johnny squirms in his seat. "Yeah. I guess they're healing just fine, Captain. I've been doing all the exercises physio 've told me to do."

"And he's had this one at his beck and call," Simon adds, nodding his head in my direction. He's wearing a black surgical mask to conceal the lower half of his face, but I can tell by the crinkles at the corners of his eyes that he's smiling. "Perfect little nurse, she is."

I grumble, wanting desperately to hit him. "Ironic, given you're the one with the nurse outfit."

There's a pause as Gaz breaks down, his silent, shaking laughter devolving into a full-blown laughing fit. John tries in vain to hide his mouth behind his hand, but the quivering of his broad shoulders betrays his own amusement.

He looks up, offering me a kind smile. It's so warm that it makes my chest ache. "I'm... I'm not even going to ask," the stoic captain says.

"It's not a nurse outfit," Si protests, deadpan.

I flash him a saccharine sweet - if slightly vicious - smile. "Of course. Whatever you say, Nurse Riley."

He's bright red now. If he were any more embarrassed, he'd be steaming from the ears. "Johnny thought that it would be a funny joke gift for..."

"Don't ye worry, love," Johnny says, joining in on the light-hearted ribbing with zero remorse, "we won't judge ye."

We carry on laughing, joking around with one another. Gaz talks about his family and John tells the boys about something that someone they work with - a woman called Kate - told him the other week. Something about an upcoming mission that they might be assigned.

Before long, Johnny announces to the table that he's thirsty, making me stand up so that he and Si can clamber out of the shed. Despite his protests, they drag Gaz out with them too - insisting that they need a hand carrying the drinks back out. Which is bullshit.

I look up at John. For the first time all day, we're alone.

It's now or never.

"John... there's something that I've been wanting to talk to you about," I start, voice shaking slightly. I can hear my heartbeat thumping in my ears as my fight or flight response kicks in; my skin feeling too tight over my bones.

Immediately, there's a look of concern forms on his face, his brow lowering and making him look every bit his age. "What's wrong? I knew you seemed too quiet - have the boys said something to upset you?"

I shake my head firmly. "No. They haven't done anything. It's- um, it's something that I've done, actually."

Instead of asking any more questions, John just sits back, head resting against the wooden siding as he watches me with those dark, observant eyes. It reminds me of the day we first met - when he came to tell me about Alex; the way that he just sat and watched. The way he listened.

"I'm seeing Johnny."

John's face lights up with a look of complete and utter surprise.

"And Simon."

His jaw slackens. After a moment of stumbling over his words, he says, "Oh... okay."

Now it's my turn to be confused. "Okay?" I repeat slowly, turning the words over in my mouth.

He nods. "Okay."

My eyes narrow. "What does that mean?"

John lets out something between a sigh and an exhale, lifting a hand to rub his temples. A beat of silence passes. Then another. "Tali, I trust your judgement. Have done ever since I got to know you," he says, every word measured and considered, spoken in that low, soft voice of his. "You're a smart woman; you know what you're doing. Acting like you don't... that would be doing you a disservice. And I know the boys. It'd take a very special person to get them to open up, and - if anyone - I think that person would be you."

My chest squeezes.

Acceptance. This is acceptance.

Not hatred, or disgust, or anger.

"I... thank you, John," I say, my voice coming out as barely more than a whisper. Heat pricks at my eyes. "You have no idea how much that means to me."

John's eyes glitter. "You can tell me anything, kid. Nothing you say will ever change anything between us."

When Johnny and Simon return with Gaz and two trays of drinks not even five minutes later, I'm tucked into John's side, his arm wrapped tightly around my shoulders as I sniffle into his t-shirt.

"Everything alright?" Simon asks, eyes locked onto my tear-stained face.

I beam up at him, flashing him the widest, brightest grin I can muster. Feeling lighter than I have for a while now, I say, "Everything's perfect." Turning my attention to Gaz, I add, "Hey, Gaz?"

Slotting himself into the seat beside me, he swipes a pint off of the tray and hums in acknowledgement.

"I'm in a relationship with Johnny. And Simon."

Gaz hums again. "Figures."

Simon leans forward then, eyes practically popping out of his head. "What do you mean figures?"

He snorts out a laugh and, with a playful glimmer in those big dark eyes, he says, "Well, it would take a saint to put up with a grumpy old bastard like you. And Tali's no saint. So I figured she was getting some pretty good dick to-"

"That'll do," Simon barks, putting a swift end to that line of thought.

When the rest of us finally stop laughing, we settle in to enjoy our drinks and soak up an afternoon in the sun.

a/n: hey guys! so this was it: our longest chapter yet :) in the next few days, I'm going to be making some changes to the layout of this account - adding a navigation page in preparation for releasing some other non-Double the Love content etc etc. - see you again very soon, lapetitelapin :)

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matenr0u · 6 months

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Riku: “Taisetsu na hito - Cherished person”

Throughout the series we’ve seen an escalation of Riku’s enduring journey to find the “strength to protect what matters”. It appears to peak in KHIII with “strength to protect someone precious”, but I’m gonna propose that they could some day take it a step further than that.

I am once again slamming my tiny fistful of evidence and wish fulfilment on the KH meta table.

So as we know this line first appears in BBS when Baby Riku meets Terra and says he wants to protect his “daiji na mono”:

強くなりたいんだ

I want to become strong.

(…)

どうして強くなりたい?

Why do you want to be strong?

大事なものを守れるでしょ

So that I can protect important stuff

友達やみんなを

Like my friend, everyone…

He repeats this in DDD as he fights to save Sora, recalling twice the secret promise he made that day:

大事なものを守れる力

Power to protect important stuff

Finally this culminates in Riku’s KHIII sacrifice, following up from Mickey suggesting that he’s found the strength to protect someone he cherishes.

大切な人を守る強さか—

Strength to protect someone precious—

Which is cool. But there’s room for more, if Squisney decide it won’t hurt their profits to go down that path. Or even if they just feel like addressing at any point the absolute non reaction everyone had to being obliterated on the spot and then Riku dying for Sora. With that in mind, I began to wonder if we’ll see just one more callback later down the line.

I think there are two possible options. First:

一番大切な人

Ichiban taisetsu na hito / Most precious person

In CoM for example Namine urged Sora to remember his “ichiban taisetsu na hito” — number one most precious person. This one has more of an obvious romantic air I feel. I choose to think Namine was talking about Kairi when she said that but I respect that other SR fans think it’s Riku so I’m including it. If we’re going to hear this one again and in reference to Sora & Riku, we’ll surely get it around the time the necklace theory is inevitably revealed. Either way, it’s already been used in the series, so it’s not a crazy implausible love declaration or anything. It can happen.

I mean, in DDD Riku all but says it when Ven asks:

“Kimi ni totte ichiban taisetsu na mono tte nani?”

“What’s the number one most important thing to you?”

And of course Riku replies:

“Taisetsu na shinyuu”

“My precious best friend”

As far as I’ve noticed, Riku only calls Sora his shinyuu. It’s cute.

Another possible route they could take is:

愛するもの

Aisuru mono / Beloved person

Which sounds far fetched at a glance, but it is what Terra says to Riku during the bequeathing, in response to Riku’s “daiji na mono”.

いずれ選ばれし者としてこの小さな世界を出て——

Some day, you will leave this tiny world as the chosen one—

俺のもとへたどり着くだろう

You will find me.

その時こそ――

That’s the time—

本当の広い世界——

The real wide world—

愛する者を守る力を教えよう

Will teach you the power to protect the people you love.

“Love” being such a diluted word in EN means it doesn’t convey the gravity of it well at all, but “aisuru mono” is one of the strongest ways you can say you love someone in JP. It can be singular or plural, platonic or romantic, and I’ve seen KH’s fandom war cousins cloti/clerith argue over the use of this term— so it highkey wouldn’t surprise me to see this one used by Riku or someone else in reference to his feelings for Sora. Like, in a ‘vague enough to not offend the unwashed dudebros but can also be read as incredibly romantic’ kind of way.

(By the way, I’ve seen “aisuru mono” or “aisuru hito” translated as “dearly beloved” in some places before, too. So naturally I’m gunning hard for this one. Shoot that probably unintentional symbolic double meaning shit straight into my veins.)

For the reasons above, I personally can envision a realistic pipeline of:

Daiji na mono / Important stuff ->

Taisetsu na mono / Precious thing ->

Taisetsu na shinyuu / Precious best friend ->

Taisetsu na hito / Precious person ->

Aisuru mono, Aisuru hito / Beloved person

Ichiban taisetsu na hito / Most precious person

Not to say it will happen in any capacity, but there’s space for it. A ton of weird stuff happened around That Moment, and even if that’s just down to KHIII bunk….. the whole ass Fairy Godmother herself has come to set Riku on a solo mission to make his dreams come true.

The setup is right there if they ever want to take that opportunity to clarify the depth and nature of Riku’s feelings for Sora specifically.

Riku already promised Terra he’d find the strength to protect someone he loves, which he has now found, and in the case of ‘Aisuru’, I think it would round off that callback to the bequeathing perfectly.

#kingdom hearts #riku #soriku #ngl i think riku’s feelings for Sora will always toe the line #Like a kaworu kinda thing right?#Thats how I see it playing out in the future anyway #don’t really care as long as he takes care of best boy #kh analysis

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allmoshnobrain · 3 months

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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫: 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 02 of 06 | masterpost

word count: 5,4k | ao3 link | fic's playlist

He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, and I wondered if he too would be feeling the happiness that sang in my chest at that moment, like a little miracle had just unfolded before us. It was hard to find another word to describe it. He’d found me. After so many years, he’d found me.

✦ on this chapter: james hetfield x female!oc, dave mustaine x female!oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, grief, smut mentioned/implied

✧ Once you told me, "Look for the North Star, then you'll see" / Heavenly, I hear / Found my way to the beach / There were waves over me / I was lost at sea 'til you found me / 'til you found me ✧

May 20, 1984

Settling into the new home my parents had bought for me turned out to be easier than I’d expected, especially since my friends had moved in with me; we all shared the same space and, slowly but surely, it was shaping up to be our own little slice of paradise, buzzing with music, chatter, and laughter as we got everything sorted.

But everything felt eerily still when I arrived home on that Sunday afternoon. I opened the front door, spotting a few moving boxes still hanging out in the living room. I glanced around, puzzled, eyeing the empty space and wondering where the gang had vanished to. That's when I caught the distant murmur of voices drifting from the kitchen.

"You can't just go after him, James. It's gonna wreck our reputation, have you even thought about that?" Lars' voice carried down the hallway, tinged with irritation.

"You think I give a damn about our reputation when he's out there dissing my girl?" James shot back, his voice tinged with anger. I arched an eyebrow, definitely intrigued now as I made my way closer. I reached the kitchen door to find Lars leaning against the sink, his brow furrowed, while James, so much taller, paced back and forth, his fists clenched. "I couldn't care less. Let him yap about us all he wants, but lay off her. I'm gonna beat the crap out of him, then maybe he'll learn to keep his trap shut."

"Hey, guys," I interjected, and James halted his pacing immediately, both him and Lars shooting me a startled look, like they'd just seen a ghost. A knot twisted in my gut as I realized they were probably talking about something they didn't want me to know about. "What's the deal?"

"Nore!" Lars chirped, a bit too brightly, as he hastily snatched something off the table. I narrowed my eyes, noting it was a cassette tape he was awkwardly trying to stuff into his pocket. "Oh, it's, uh, nothing important!"

"What's that?" I inquired, nodding toward the cassette in his grasp. James shot him a pointed glare, and Lars swallowed hard.

"It's, um, nothing, really! Just..." He stumbled over his words as I closed the gap between us, grabbing his arm and snatching the tape from his grip. "Hey!"

"If it's really nothing, then you won't mind me taking a look, right?" I challenged. James shot me a worried look before striding over towards me.

"Nore, hand it over," he demanded, his tone grave, his brow furrowed. I stared at him, torn between defiance and confusion.

"No," I shot back, turning on my heel and bolting up the stairs.

"Nore!" James called out, chasing after me, but I was already too far ahead. I reached our shared room and slammed the door shut, locking it behind me. James pounded on the door, growing increasingly frustrated. "Nore! Come on, give it back!"

"Unless you've got another girlfriend, this has gotta be about me, right?" I challenged, and he grunted, kicking the door in frustration. "You’re gonna start keeping secrets from me now?"

"You don't get it. It's for your own good. Just let me in!"

I brushed off his demand, which only earned me a frustrated growl from him. Fixing my gaze on the tape in my hand, my heart skipped a beat when I spotted the band name: Megadeth. There wasn't much else on the tape besides handwritten song titles on the label. I'd been keeping tabs on the Californian metal scene enough to know this wasn't just any old tape — it was a demo. I couldn't help but wonder how Lars and James got their hands on it, and what the hell it had to do with me.

"Come on, Nore!" James's pounding on the door grew more urgent as the music began to play, the cassette inserted into the tape deck in our room. "You don't wanna hear this. Trust me!"

I stayed silent, my heart doing some churning uncomfortably in my chest as I recognized Dave's voice emanating from the speakers. I blinked in surprise; I remembered he was scouting for a vocalist for the band back when we were together, but I had no clue he'd decided to take on the role himself. Somehow, that made it all worse; I wasn't prepared to hear his voice. I wasn't ready for the flood of emotions that hearing him but not being able to talk to him, see him, or touch him brought crashing over me. I wasn't ready for the fury radiating from his voice, blazing like a wildfire, channeling all his pain into his music. And then, it hit me what he was singing about.

My only love, something I've never felt / Now you've gone to heaven and I'll burn in hell / I loved you to death!

Oh. Was that why James was so adamant about me not hearing the tape? Could that song possibly be...?

And now I'm down below / And what do I see? / You didn't go to heaven / You’re down in hell with me / And now you’re coming back / “baby take me please!” / I really think I would, if you weren't such a sleaze / I loved you once before, you kept me on a string / I'd rather go without than take what you would bring / I loved you to death!

I chewed on my lip, my stomach twisting as the song came to its end, struggling to make sense of everything I'd just heard. Suddenly, it all clicked. I understood why James had tried to shield me from it; Dave's lyrics were harsh, dripping with anger and bitterness, a far cry from the sweet and caring Dave I once knew. For a fleeting moment, I tried to convince myself it couldn't be about me — but who else could it possibly be about?

For months, I'd been wondering what he'd say if I ever found him. Would he listen? Would he let me explain? And for months, I'd been living with this fear — that he'd hate me, that he wouldn't want anything to do with me anymore. But I'd always held onto hope; hope that I could make things right, that I could clear things up somehow. Yet, that song... It crushed whatever hope I had left.

It hurt me more than I could say.

I stood up and swung open the bedroom door, finding James right there, his blue eyes filled with concern. I threw myself into his arms, trying to hold back the tears. He sighed and hugged me back.

"I warned you not to listen," he grumbled.

"And you were just gonna keep this from me forever?" I asked, my voice shaky.

"If it meant not hurting you, then yeah."

"James, I deserved to know," I said, pulling back to look at him. He reached up and wiped away a tear, his touch gentle on my cheek.

"You're right. I'm sorry," he said softly, planting a light kiss on my forehead.

"Where'd you snag this tape, anyway?"

"Our producer gave it to Lars. Said Dave's using that Mechanix song we had on our album as The Four Horsemen..."

"Those were his songs, James. He's got every right to do so."

"Why do you still stick up for him, even after all this?" he frowned, a hint of annoyance in his voice, then sighed. "Sure, he can use his fucking songs. But he doesn't get to pen this garbage about you."

I shook my head with a sigh.

"It's so not fair," I said, trying to push down the shake in my voice. "He jumped to thinking I'd just cheat on him, replace him outta nowhere. Didn't even give me a chance to explain; just up and left. And I..." James pulled me into another hug as my voice hitched, making it tough to keep talking. "I still miss him. And I wish..."

"Nore..." James murmured, squeezing me tight, and I sighed, shutting my eyes. "You miss him that much? Aren’t you happy with me?"

"Course I'm happy with you," I replied, my voice muffled against him, hugging him close and soaking in the comfort of his scent as I buried my face into his chest.

"Then stay with me ," he said, his voice gravelly, stroking my hair tenderly. "I'm here. And I would never hurt you like that. Maybe it's time to... let this go. I can make you happy, Nore. Promise."

"You already make me happy," I murmured, sniffing softly and pulling away from his embrace, wiping away the tears that insisted on falling. James cupped my face in his hands, giving me a gentle, affectionate kiss on my lips.

I loved James. That certainty had grown in my chest over the past few months until it became unbearable, impossible to ignore. But could I allow myself to forget Dave like that? Could I allow myself to move on and leave behind a love that had changed my life? Even if he hated me, my heart still beat for him. Could I allow myself to let go of that feeling?

Could I?

September 5, 1986

Ever since James and I’d started dating, James had always been warm. Warm and cozy, like a lit fireplace on a winter night, enough for me to always want to be around — always there, always comforting. As we lay together, both totally spent after spending most of the night pleasuring each other, he started planting little, lazy kisses on my neck, his hand resting flat on my belly. His blond locks tickled my cheek, his breath warm against my bare skin.

"I feel like something's off with me," I mumbled, and he stopped kissing me, his lips lingering against my neck.

"I’ll stop if you want me to," he whispered, his arms enveloping me, drawing me snug against his bare skin. James had this knack for drawing me in tighter whenever I hinted at pulling away. He just couldn't resist keeping me close, and honestly, I didn't mind one bit. "Just say the word if you need me to back off," he murmured softly.

"No, it's not that," I replied, turning to face him with a sigh. His blue eyes locked onto mine, curious. I let out another soft sigh, leaning in to plant a kiss on his lips. He responded instantly, pulling me closer, his grip firm.

"What's on your mind then?" he asked, his lips trailing from mine to my neck once more. I sighed again, closing my eyes, my fingers tangling in his hair as heat pooled between my legs.

"I don't want you guys to leave," I admitted, and he paused his kisses, pulling back to meet my gaze. I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks as I looked away. "I know it's part of your job. I know you've been on countless tours, and this one won't be any different. But... I just wish you'd stay, just this once."

James gave a nod, pulling me into a tight hug and planting a gentle kiss on my temple. The whirlwind of tours and gigs wasn't a walk in the park for either of us. Sure, it had its perks, but the constant movement, the jam-packed schedule that I struggled to keep pace with, and the long stretches of time apart definitely took their toll on our relationship. Especially now that the band was hitting new heights of success; I wanted to be there for them every step of the way, but reality dictated otherwise with my own commitments.

It hadn't been such a big deal in the past; after over two years as James's girlfriend and spending loads of time with Cliff and the boys, I was used to the drill. But this time, there was this gnawing feeling in my chest, like something wasn't quite right. It wasn't exactly that I wanted them to stay or that I wanted to tag along but couldn't; it was more like I just didn't want them to leave. I didn't want them out there while I was feeling this jittery, like something was about to go south any second.

"I'm probably being a bit selfish," I admitted, meeting James' eyes.

"Nah, not at all," he countered, running his fingers through my hair and flashing me a grin, clearly trying to lift my spirits. "I'll make it up to you, promise. I'll bring back souvenirs from everywhere we hit. What do you say? We'll be back before you know it, Nore. Trust me."

I gave a nod, a small smile tugging at my lips. There was no point in dumping all my worries on James; things would work out, somehow. I nestled closer to him, giving him a hug before planting a soft kiss on his jawline.

"Meanwhile..." he started, his lips meeting mine as he settled over me. I let out a soft chuckle, looping my arms around his neck; he leaned back, giving me a smile tinged with mischief, his hands trailing up my thighs in a way that sent shivers down my spine, anticipation building within me. "I think we should make the most of my being here while we still can. What do you say?"

"Hmm... sounds like a plan," I answered, and he chuckled, leaning in to kiss me once more.

March 13, 1987

Backstage used to be my sanctuary, but not anymore.

The buzz, the drinks, the laughter, the pounding music — those were the things that used to make me feel alive. Completely in the moment. But ever since Cliff had left us, the whole scene had just become another stress trigger. It was cruel, how I would still catch myself hoping to spot him any minute, beer in hand or puffing on a cig before hitting the stage, tuning his bass with that grin of his like he was born to rock out. Then reality would hit me seconds later, reminding me that I would never see him again.

That he was gone.

That night’s gig marked my first outing since the accident. I only agreed to go 'cause I knew James was missing me like crazy, especially after everything went down. It stung how Cliff's death had torn us apart, making it damn near impossible for us to even be in the same room despite still loving each other; it was all just too raw, too painful to wrap our heads around.

But I stuck it out for the whole show, even though my heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice seeing the band up there with a different lineup, knowing it shouldn't be that way. Jason, the new bassist, was actually pretty damn good; I knew my aunt and uncle had loved him, and knowing he had their stamp of approval made things a bit easier to swallow. I didn't know him too well yet, but he came off as friendly and laid-back. Plus, his passion for the band and music had me smiling, thinking about how Cliff would've dug having someone with that same fire taking his spot.

Once the show wrapped, I didn't stick around for the inevitable after-party. While James and the guys were all caught up sorting out post-gig stuff, I slipped out the back, lighting up a smoke with a sigh. A persistent headache throbbed away, making me regret coming in the first place.

"Miss you, you dumbass," I muttered to myself, feeling the sting of tears threatening to spill over.

If I'd known that accident was coming, I would've done anything to stop Cliff from stepping foot on that bus. I would've volunteered to take his spot, even crawled into the bed he was in when it all went down. I would've traded places with him in a heartbeat, and I would've gone to my grave with a smile on my face. 'Cause living in a world without him was a nightmare worse than anything I'd ever imagined.

And now, all I could do was wish I would wake up back in our cozy home, catching a whiff of the coffee he used to brew up and hearing his gentle chuckle as he teased Leanne about tying the knot some day, all in that playful tone that barely masked his real longing — to live . To start a family, maybe have some kids, buy a house for his folks, and grow old doing what he loved, soaking up the rewards of his talent.

But none of that was in the cards anymore.

And I had remained, an empty, unrecognizable shell of the lively girl I used to be. I didn't know a life without Cliff — he had been my rock since forever. He'd been there since day one — I mean, literally, he was around before I was even born. We grew up side by side, like two peas in a pod, and now what was left of me was rotten, alone, and meaningless.

What was I without him, if he was such a huge part of who I was?

How many more losses in my life would I have to take?

Suddenly, I remembered Dave. The first boy I'd ever really loved, that kind of love that shakes you to your core. Losing him hurt like hell, no doubt about it. But compared to losing Cliff, it was like small fry. Still, Dave was the first real loss I’d ever faced. When all my efforts to track him down hit dead ends, I had to learn to live with the hole he left behind. After all these years, I still thought about him from time to time, but it didn't sting as bad as it used to.

I couldn't help but wonder if the ache in my heart from Cliff's absence would ever dull down like it had with Dave. Or if I'd have to face an even bigger blow, something that'd make this pain seem like child's play in comparison.

After roaming the city streets for hours, I finally headed back to the hotel. When I got to the floor where the band was crashing, I bumped into Jason, standing by his room’s door.

"Hey, Nore," he said, his voice sounding rough, and I gave him a puzzled look. Was he crying?

"Hey, Jason. You all good?"

"I-I'm good," he mumbled, voice low, avoiding eye contact as he sniffled and wiped his face with his hand. Yeah, definitely not okay.

"You're not out there with the guys. What's up?" I asked, and he glanced up, his brown eyes a bit bloodshot, cheeks flushed.

"It's just... It's been kinda rough trying to fit in with the band. Especially with all these pranks they pull..." he trailed off.

"Pranks? What do you mean?" I frowned.

"Oh, it's nothing!" he rushed to say. "You know, just dumb stuff. It's just that it always catches me off guard, like now... I went back to the room to grab a jacket and found they'd messed it all… Up…" He slowly stopped talking as I brushed past him, turning the doorknob of his room and pushing the door open.

I froze in my tracks, utterly stunned by the sight before me. Jason's room was a complete disaster zone — suitcases torn open, clothes strewn all over, mattress gone, and beddings tangled up in the ceiling fan. Furniture flipped over like a hurricane had blown through. I just stood there, dumbfounded. Whoever did this wasn't messing around — it was straight-up hostility, so blatant it snapped me out of my own sadness and fired me up with anger.

"Jason, who did this?" I spun around to face him, my expression blazing, and he took a step back, clearly rattled.

"Nore, it's no big deal, really..." he started, but I cut him off.

"Whoever trashed your room needs to answer for it. This is not okay! I'm going straight to James; he'll sort this out..."

"No, please," he pleaded, cutting me off. "Please, that'll only make things worse! Don't talk to them, I'm begging you…"

I gawked at him, trying to wrap my head around what I was seeing, the pieces slowly fitting together in a puzzle that made no sense.

"Jason," I began cautiously, "did James and the guys pull this stunt on you?"

He stayed silent, which I interpreted as a confirmation. My gut twisted in discomfort. What were they thinking? That wasn't our style. Sure, we'd get a bit wild sometimes, drink too much, goof around — but deliberately messing with someone? It just didn't add up.

Just then, the elevator chimed, and out stumbled a clearly wasted James, grinning when he spotted Jason.

"Hey, Newkid!" he slurred, stumbling over his words as he came over and slung an arm around Jason's shoulders, who shot him a nervous grin. "Check out the new decor in your room, dude! Pretty rad, huh?" He burst into laughter.

"James, what the hell is this?" I demanded, my voice shaky. He glanced up, looking surprised to see me there.

"Hey, babe. You dipped out, what's the deal?" he asked, dropping his arm from Jason's shoulders and stepping toward me. I folded my arms, taking a step back. He furrowed his brow, confused. "What's eating at you?"

"You tell me. What's the deal with this mess?" I gestured to the chaos in Jason's room. James just grinned, shaking his head.

"Princess, it was just a prank... Come on," he said, reaching for my hand, but I shrugged him off, stomping heavily toward our room. "Hey, hold up... Baby!" James called after me, trailing behind.

Ignoring him, I swung open the door and grabbed my bag, hastily scooping up the scattered clothes and belongings. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall — not now.

"Nore, what the fuck are you doing?" James rushed into the room, grabbing my arm. I shook him off, backing away, glaring at him through teary eyes, my breaths coming in uneven gasps. "Babe, what's going on?"

"How can you even ask? What, you think it's funny to be some kind of bully now?" I demanded, my voice quivering. James shook his head, looking utterly baffled by my reaction.

"Nore, chill out! It was just a prank..."

"What kind of prank is this? This isn't us, James. Why are you guys messing with him?" I snapped, continuing to pack up my stuff. "Cliff would never stand for this."

James took a step back, looking like I'd slapped him. His brow furrowed, jaw clenched.

"And how would you know?" he shot back, and I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

"You think you knew him better than I did, James? Seriously?"

"Nore, it was just a joke..."

"A joke ? Really?" I shouted, tears finally breaking free. "I can't deal with this, James. What's gotten into you? He's not to blame for what happened to Cliff!"

"I get it. Nore, just try to calm down," he said, coming closer and taking hold of my wrists, locking eyes with me. "Take a deep breath, okay?"

"James, this isn't fair," I choked out through sobs. "Can't you see? We've been falling apart since he left. You're angry, and you're bitter, and you're mean , and sometimes I don't even recognize you anymore, and I hate it! And I feel like nothing — I don't feel like me anymore without him. You don't need me like this."

"I do need you."

"I'm fucking broken, James."

"No, you're not!"

"I am !" I burst out, my voice cracking. "You deserve someone who won't lose it over every little thing like this, James. You deserve better than me. I'm not good for you anymore. I'm not good for anyone, for anything."

"So what's the fucking deal?" he asked, his voice shaky, desperate, his blue eyes brimming with pain. "You’re breaking up with me now?"

I didn't say anything, just locked eyes with him, feeling my heart twist painfully as I realized something had broken right then and there. I loved James, but how could I love anyone fully when my pain consumed me like this, leaving little space for anything else? How could I let myself be loved when his anger kept driving us further apart, drowning out our love in all the noise?

I let out a heavy sigh, my breath trembling, and released his hands from mine.

"I'm heading back home. I'll pack up and catch the next flight..." I mumbled.

"Nore, don't do this," James pleaded, reaching for my hands again, but I pulled away.

"I can't, James. I'm sorry. Just... Please, let me go," I sobbed, burying my face in my hands as I sank onto the bed.

Not too long ago, James would've never left me like this. He would've been there, comforting me, holding me tight and never letting go. But things weren't like they used to be, and the world didn't work the way it should anymore.

So, he just walked away, leaving me alone with my pain.

Over the next few years, James and I attempted to patch things up time and time again — but it was like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. We just couldn't get back to where we were before. Eventually, we drifted apart and started seeing other people, searching for happiness in different eyes, different embraces, different kisses.

But it was useless.

The ache in my chest lingered, a constant reminder of the emptiness that echoed in both of us. And no matter how hard we tried to keep our distance, we always found our way back to each other. We never went back to using those labels — boyfriend, girlfriend — but we couldn't deny the pull between us. I always found myself drawn back to James, and he always found his way back to me.

Eventually, I got used to that kind of love, a mix of joy and sorrow that felt like the only steady thing in a crazy world, a way to bury my own unhappiness. Over the years, me and the guys stayed tight, because what other choice did we have? They were my family, and I was theirs.

I tried to tell myself that maybe I'd never feel that same spark of life again, but hey, at least I wasn't totally miserable. Even though I'd lost a lot and sadness seemed to follow me like a shadow, I still had some good things left — maybe with time, I could figure out how to move forward again. Maybe this was as good as it got.

I almost bought into it.

Until Dave found me.

February 18, 1992

In the end, it was him who found me.

After all the failed attempts, all the heartache, all the rage, all the emptiness I'd been carrying around for years without him, it all came crashing down in that moment when our eyes locked. Time seemed to stand still, his hand on my shoulder sending a jolt through my body, making my heart lose any sense of rhythm.

"Dave?" I whispered, and the sound of my own voice seemed to stir something in his eyes, an old and familiar pain, but also hunger, happiness, and ecstasy.

It was really him.

It was really, really him.

"Hey," he said, and the normalcy of his answer made me chuckle. He grinned at my laughter, that old, beautiful smile, and my heart seemed to melt into pure warmth and affection.

How could I have lived so long without him?

"Hey," I replied, a smile stubbornly appearing on my face. " What are you doing here?"

"Oh, Junior's dating that Music Now anchor; she hooked us up with some tickets. David, David Ellefson," he clarified, noticing my confusion. "I ended up calling him that. Can't have two Daves in the band, and I called dibs first, so..." He trailed off, a small grin playing on his lips that I couldn't help but mirror. "Wanna grab a table? You were getting some food, right? We can catch up for a bit..."

"Sure thing," I nodded eagerly. We snagged an empty table and settled in. I poked at my food, but my appetite took a backseat with him sitting across from me. Dave seemed both different and the same, all at once. He was still as good-looking as ever, with his ginger hair cascading over his shoulders, warm hazel eyes, and that familiar crooked smile that always got me.

"So, what brings you here?" he asked.

"Oh, I work here," I answered, grinning when he raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised.

"Really? What do you do?"

"I act. Just landed my first lead role in a TV series."

"So you ended up in the arts, huh?" he remarked. "I remember you were tossing around the idea of studying something like that back when... Well, back when we were a thing."

I blinked, feeling the flush rise to my cheeks. I was so thrilled to see him again that, for a moment, I almost forgot how our last encounter had been a train wreck for both of us. How the end of our relationship had left us both hurting and confused. How so many misunderstandings had ruined our love beyond repair.

"Dave," I began, my voice faltering with nerves. "I know it's been forever... But there's so much I want to say. So much I need to explain. I—" I trailed off as he reached for my hand, his grasp enveloping mine, so much larger and warmer, sending my heart racing.

"No worries," he answered, his voice gentle as he kept his gaze locked on mine. "We can talk. I reckon doing it here might be a bit tough, huh? How about we pick a day just for that?"

The idea of meeting up again brought a wave of relief to my face. He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, and I wondered if he too would be feeling the happiness that sang in my chest at that moment, like a little miracle had just unfolded before us. It was hard to find another word to describe it.

He’d found me.

After so many years, he’d found me.

We chatted away for the rest of the party, mostly about work stuff. Everything felt oddly familiar yet different at the same time, and we kind of danced around the real thing: all the emotions we'd been through during our time apart, the fights and secrets that tore us apart when we still cared about each other, and whether we still felt the same way. 'Cause, honestly, I could barely look at him without feeling my whole body fill with a wild happiness, feeling alive like I hadn't felt in a long, long time.

As the party wound down, we lingered by the entrance, chatting quietly while Charlie made the rounds saying her goodbyes. We seized the moment to swap phone numbers, sharing hopeful smiles and whispered words. The night air was chilly, sending shivers down my spine. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to ward off the cold.

"Feeling cold?" Dave asked, already slipping off his blazer and draping it over my shoulders before I could respond. I looked up at him, feeling my cheeks flush, and he grinned. "You can hang onto that. Gives us a good excuse to make sure we see each other again."

The ride home flew by in a blur; I hardly paid attention to Charlotte's excited chatter about the party. Instead, I clung to Dave's coat, feeling its warmth seep into me. His scent lingered in the fabric, intoxicatingly close, like it could drive me crazy.

I must’ve been dreaming, right?

It felt like I was living in a dream. Running into him after all these years, completely by chance, seemed too good to be true. For so long, I'd convinced myself that happiness and hope were out of reach. Turns out, I was dead wrong. I had no clue what the future held — no idea what would come of this unexpected reunion. But the chance to make things right, to clear up the misunderstandings of the past, even just a little bit, felt like a gift too good to pass up.

All I could do that surprising night was hope it wouldn't all vanish by morning. Hope his voice would be there when I called the next day, because I could hardly wait to see him again.

That night, I didn't have any nightmares.

✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧

tag list: @killazilla777 @whatsupvic @70srogah @genswine9 @twice360noscope

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tmntxthings · 1 year

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Hey there! You already know I love love LOVE your writing. I never really have ideas to make requests but I feel like you’d really make this one special 🥺 Whenever you can get to it, I’d love a sort of Rise Leo x female insomniac reader type thing.

I’m an incredibly light and anxious sleeper and being woken up by the littlest thing at 3 AM like a phone notification or noise/talking right outside my door–or literally just not being able to stay asleep–and then not being able to fall back asleep no matter what despite being exhausted is the most frustrating thing… And when I say frustrating I really do sometimes mean like, tears in my eyes, pull my hair out, feeling the most untapped anger at a whole night of sleep being ruined by one lil thing, lol

I was wondering how you think Leo would help coax a restless sleeper back to a peaceful slumber with him? Ig it doesn’t hurt he’s such an insomniac too 😂

Ultimately however you want to do this is up to you of course! Thanks for inspiring a fellow writer 😄💚

Dreamscape

author’s note: i recently couldn’t fall asleep so this was pretty fun to write <3 i hope you enjoy

warnings: fluff, insomnia, crack, established relationship, unedited

—————————————————————————

And then, after sweeping her off of her feet, portaling us both into the lair, I’ll place her back down. Dip my totally unnecessary yet necessary sunglasses for heart fluttering effects and then pull back the curtain to my humble abode. Then-

“Whatcha writing?” Michelangelo was a tad to close and Leonardo had been so observed in said writing that he hadn’t heard his little brother approach. “What writing?!” Leo squawked as he crumbled up the paper as fast as possible. He was up standing and leaning against his desk, desperately trying to seem nonchalant. Mikey gave him a once over, one brow bone raising.

“Okay you got me. I was journaling my thoughts like you suggested!” Leo spoke quietly, and lied smoothly. There was no way he was letting any of his brothers, yes even darling Angelo, that he was planning a sleepover. No one could know. “Really?!” Mikey beamed, happy to hear his advice being followed. “Really really!” Leo cheesed, a smidge of guilt finding its way in as Mikey gave him a thumbs up and encouraged him to continue. “If you ever want to take it to the next step just let me know! We can talk about what you write down if you feel comfortable!!” With that Mikey departed, a skip in his step.

Leo counted down to five, then to ten just to be safe. And wouldn’t you know it at second seven Mikey peered his head through the curtains. “Yes?” Leo said, it was his turn to raise a brow bone. “Pizza later? We gotta do the rock-paper-scissors ritual to see who has to go pick it up.” Leo replied swiftly, “I’ll be there just uh- shoot me a text or something. I might be too concentrated on my writing again!~” with that Mikey gave a tiny salute and disappeared behind the curtain once more.

Another ten second countdown and Leo finally allowed himself to crash into his chair. “Too close…” he murmured to himself as he shook his head. His fist unfurled and a ball of paper revealed itself. He uncrumbled it as best he could, smoothing it out with his hand until the crinkles were bearable. “Now where was I?” Pencil in his three fingered hand, he tapped his chin with the eraser as he read over what was already written. For the life of him he couldn’t continue the thought and it frustrated him so much that the paper was crumbled and thrown into the trash bin next to his desk.

Screw it! He was better coming up with stuff on the fly anyways. What was the point in micromanaging like someone he knew when the unexpected was bound to happen. After tidying up his room, reading a comic or two, eating a slice or four from the pizza he didn’t have to go pick up (Leo losing? Hah unheard of!), he finally got the text he had been waiting all night for.

I think I’m ready! Portal in on the roof <3 -Y/n💙

Already there ;3 -LeontheGreatest

You had been in the middle of typing back a snarky reply when you saw a blue flash from your peripheral. You stopped typing and put your phone away as you turned to see him, in a grand pose of course. “Your portal awaits!” He smiled. “Well hiya Lee, nice to see you too, how was your day?” You mused as you strolled his way, being taken by complete surprise as he lifted you up, sleepover bag and all, bridal style. “Oh Y/n, we know each other too well for such pleasantries! But if I must, Hi beautiful~ how boring was your day without me?” Leo walked into the portal and the next second he was back in his room. Ack?! It was supposed to portal him right outside of his room!

He suppressed a groan, somewhat dismayed that he couldn’t do his grand reveal like he had thought up. “Just as you said, it dragged by! You can put me down now you goof!” You laughed, taking in his room for the first time in person. “Yeah I had a whole, outfit and grand entrance planned but tada! Welcome to my humble abode.” He gave you jazz hands. “Your portal entrance was grand enough” you smiled sweetly, he couldn’t let go of all the theatrics for even a moment!

He was giving you a detailed room tour, though you had to remind him he didn’t have to show you every single comic he had collected since mutation. The two do you settled onto his bed, talking more in depth about the day or anything else that crossed both your minds. The night carried on like usual, the only difference that this sleepover was at his place instead of yours. Movie after movie, silly jokes, tiktok showcasing, shared snacks. It was perfect. Leo let out a yawn and a minute later you caught it too. “Should we call it a night?” He asked already reaching over to flick off the strung up lights. “We can try, I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep just yet,” you sighed and Leo gave you a knowing nod.

He knew it took you quite some time to fall asleep, and then be able to stay that way was an even harder challenge. He could relate, he had probably had a sleeping disorder with how irregular he passed out. “No harm in trying, come here,” he opened up his arms for you to snuggle up under the covers with him. Once situated he was pressing soft kisses into your temple, murmuring how happy he was that you came over, saying how pretty you were, he considered himself a lucky turtle. As sweet as he was being, it didn’t help your case with trying to sleep, you were a blushing mess, heart pounding at his sugary words.

You turned in his embrace, and he looked down into your eyes. “Leo!” You half whined, and he chuckled kissing your lips this time before saying, “Right right, sleep time!” His chin nuzzled the top of your head as you pressed a cheek into his plastron. It wasn’t complete silence since you were so close you could hear every breath he took, but the steady rhythm helped you relax and you slipped into a light sleep.

You woke up an hour later, surprised to have fallen asleep so quickly, but the astonishment was dashed when you realized quite quickly you weren’t falling back asleep. It was getting kind of stuffy pressed against Leo now so you tried to pull away without waking him. You stuck one leg out of the covers trying to cool down. You turned so you were lying on your back. Then you tried your stomach. Nothing was working and you felt time dragging on. The night have been perfect and why did your insomnia have to come and ruin it?!

You took in a deep breath, trying to not get too frustrated as you tried other remedies. Breathing in and out deeply. Letting your thoughts wander. Coming up with random scenarios. Trying to remember fuzzy dreams. Counting sheep for pete’s sake! Your breathing hitched as you looked over to Leo, you didn’t want to wake him, but maybe it was just better to go home. No! You shook your head and the hot tears started to fall. You covered your mouth with a shaky hand, blinking rapidly to get rid of the tears.

“Y/n?” Leo murmured, feeling the empty space where you had been cuddled next to him. You didn’t think you were ready to talk yet, in fact you were pretty certain you’d sob out his name. His eyes opened at your silence, and then he was quickly sitting up when he saw your body shake from quieted crying. “What’s wrong baby?” His hands went out petting your hair and then rubbing those salty tears away. “Sorry Leo I’m just so frustrated,” you managed to get out. The tears didn’t seem like they were stopping despite his efforts.

He waited for you to explain, not wanting to assume. Leo hoped he hadn’t woken you somehow. “I was sleeping just fine but, n-now I can’t get back to sleep. I tried everything, I even took melatonin before coming here!” You blew out a breath. Utterly exhausted having gotten so worked up emotionally yet sleep still evaded you. “Lemme help, I got you to sleep before didn’t I?” Your eyes were big and glassy, the tears subsiding finally. You nodded and wondered what he would try, you really had tried everything!

“Do you wanna cuddle or is it too hot?” He asked gently, not wanting to crowd you since you had moved away. “It’s a little hot,” you confessed meekly, so instead of pulling you to him, Leo reached out his hand, finding yours and started to rub his thumb over the top soothingly. It felt nice, you closed your eyes wondering if this might work. But it didn’t stop there, Leo started to sing, he had a beautiful voice, you always thought it was quite funny he wanted to be the guitarist in the band with his brothers.

The words melted into him just humming. You gravitated just a tad closer to Leo, getting comfortable once more, his thumb still rubbing shapes into your skin. It didn’t happen instantly but you fell asleep and Leo couldn’t help his smile. Twice in one night, he was on a roll! Maybe he could be your new melatonin. His thumb spelled out, i-love-you before he finally drew his hand back. He hoped you would be able to sleep throughout the rest of the night, but even if you woke up again, or multiple times more, he’d help you go back to sleep. <3

#rise leo x reader #rottmnt x reader #leonardo x reader #rise leonardo #leo x y/n #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt fandom #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #leonardo #mikey #rise tmnt oneshot #rottmnt oneshot #rise leo #leonardo hamato #leo #tmnt leo #tmnt leonardo #rottmnt leo

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gabigabigabby · 1 year

Text

so aggressive | c. pulisic

christian pulisic x fem!reader

a/n: i am in the rabbit hole and there's no getting out. i am obsessed y'all 🫡 btw i literally have zero inspo rn so if you want to request something, it's open! enjoy! ⭐️

synopsis: only christian 'has his way with words' pulisic knows how to neutralize his girlfriend

content/warnings: city fans slander (as a city fan it was difficult to write), fist-fights, christian slander (it's for the story to work okay i dont mean the stuff i said ab him). if i missed out anything lmk ⭐️

—

you didn't expect jokes to be a source of calm for you, but it was. christian proved it to you.

christian is very lucky to have a girl like you; overprotective, loves so hard, pretty aggressive as well. your snappy attitude would apply when watching chelsea play too. most of the time, you'd need to have somebody, whether that be mason if he's injured, to corral you back down to your seat and stop screaming at the opps.

speaking of watching chelsea, you're the most unpleasant person to watch a football game with. you'd already known prior that football can get dangerous, where players get tackled left and right, the way they are all more prone to injury on the pitch. it didn't help that christian had come back to the pitch tonight and mason's out for a couple weeks.

before christian left home, he'd expressed to you how excited he was to get back on the pitch and finally start a game after months. you'd started to get excited for christian too, until he told you mason tore a ligament in his ankle last game. and just like that, your excitement seemed to fade away.

your instincts seemed to have pried its way onto the surface because you told christian you were worried about him. "babe, what's wrong?"

"what if you get hurt again?

"i won't... get hurt. i promise," christian says, holding your face in his hands. "do you trust me?"

"more than anything."

"that's all i need."

so now you're here at stamford bridge, sitting next to mase nervous as shit for how you're going to react to all of christian and chelsea's chances, waiting for the officials to commence kick-off. "man city are rough, aren't they?" mason makes conversation with you after he notices how tense you look.

"yeah," you finally turn to look at him, flashing a haste smile. "harsh dudes."

"you got any friends there?"

you don't know why you have to think about answering that question. yes, you do have friends at city. "yeah, there's kalvin, walker, foden, jack. yeah, all those guys."

"i like how we have the same friends." mason nods coolly.

"you introduced them to me at the world cup, my guy!" you scoff, watching as mason realises that he did. he did just that before the game against the usa at the world cup. he shoots you with an oh yeah!. "big joker man, huh, mase?"

"yeah, don't even mention it." mason shrugs with a wave as the music begin playing. you and mason watch as both teams emerge from the tunnel, finding their spot on the pitch. listening to the squad announcements, you can't help but find christian in the line-up.

you worried. you worried and worried and worried. what if chris gets hurt again? what if he tears something like mase did? or worse, what if he breaks something? and when you worry, your legs begin to bounce, unbeknownst to you.

"ay. ay, ay. calm down, alright?" mason holds both your legs down, hoping it'll stop from nervously bobbing again. "that man has been in the gym day in and day out trying to get better so you can sit here and yell his name again. you have to give him the credit he so desperately needs tonight. for the name on your back, y/n. okay?"

mason's assurance definitely did take the edge off of you, but just a little. for the name on your back, said mason. the name pulisic above the big number 10. you know damn well you confidently threw on that shirt. not enzo's, not joão's, but christian's. you gotta give him the credit he deserves.

"okay, i'll stop doubting him," you give in to mason. "but whatever you did earlier, holding my legs down and all, you have to do it again when it happens."

"that's what i'm here for. and look, big man's finding you in the crowd." mason says, waving at christian's direction hoping he'd catch a glance of you. you inch left and right trying to find christian's eyes, and when you did, you had leaned over mason's legs, shooting christian a supportive smile as he sends you a sly wink seconds before kick-off commences.

and when it did, a cacophony of let's go christian!'s and come on chris!'s start flying out of your mouth. "if he can just get the ball in already!" you hear mase express his emotions next to you. of course, your heightened sense of excitement were jumbled up with the nerves, not knowing whether the ball in christian's possession had made it to the back of the net or not.

but it all disappeared, the sense of protectiveness and anger coursing through your veins now, when the away fans start insulting christian's style of play — and christian himself. you flash a are you hearing this? look at mase, and he only puts his index finger up to his lip and shakes his head, indicating to you that you should keep your mouth shut.

"that pulisic guy... mid, if you ask me."

"yeah, no, i know right? but i mean it's perfect, you know. mid guy in a mid club." her friend says.

"mase," you slowly turn to face mason. "i'm about to snap, mase."

"not right now, y/n. please hold it in." mason's eyes grow wide.

"i'm sorry in advance," you whisper, before turning in your seat to face the two girls behind you and mason. "hey! you girls city fans?"

"proud to represent!" one of them answers.

"who's your favorite player?" they both respectively answer grealish and haaland. "and i can't help but eavesdrop, but you think they're better than pulisic?"

"oh ten times better," the first girl brags. "put grealish and pulisic in the same room, i'd go to grealish any day."

the expression on your face slowly becomes insincere, with the second girl slowly realising who you are. "you're pulisic's gi-"

"yeah i'm pulisic's girl, this is mason mount," you point to mason with your head. mason only waves shyly. "so before i snap and give you girls black eyes, time to leave."

the girls look at each other like the answer's in each other's eyes, and back at you again. "no. we're only speaking the truth. and if you can't handle that, maybe you should leave."

you wanted to laugh at the girls' attempt to argue with you. but you had enough, and before you knew it, you had broken one of the girls' nose as your fist went flying towards then. you wanted to tug on the girl's hair, probably yank out a couple strands, give her a bald spot; you don't know, just something, when you feel yourself get held back, not only by mason, but somebody else.

you want to turn your head to look at the person who held you back from behind, but you didn't have to. "took you this long, huh, pulisic?" mason breathes sarcastically.

"shut it mount," christian almost growls. "babe, baby? i need you to calm down for me. got it? they're not worth it."

"they were insulting you!" you were still trying to fight off christian's death grips on your biceps even though you knew he'd overpower you.

"i don't give a fuck about that y/n, i give a fuck about your safety." you were sure he intended to whisper everything to you but because of how much you were trying to resist his grips, it came out as a low growl almost.

goddamn it, he always has his way with words, you thought. you finally give in and turn to face chris, your eyes beginning to water. "baby there's no need to cry."

"you're a good player, okay. just remember that." you reassure him, trying to silence the sobs slowly pouring out of your throat.

"i know. i'm pretty good huh?" christian scrunches his nose, wiping off your tears at the same time. and during the period where you and christian wouldn't quit staring into each other's eyes, jack grealish approaches the commotion, asking one of the chelsea guards to do him and his club a favor.

"lad, get these girls out of here." jack points at the two.

"what? wait, why?!" one of them starts throwing a tantrum.

"because you made my friend cry," jack raises his voice a little. and so the chelsea guards didn't waste no time escorting the girls out of stamford bridge. "you deserved that broken nose, by the way." jack shrugs as the girl you punched slowly walks by, a chelsea guard right behind her.

"hey thanks, man." christian says, giving jack a pat on the back.

"thanks jack. you didn't have to get involved." you grin thankfully at him.

"when it comes to city fans," jack air-quotes. "i will always involve myself."

christian turns back to you, watching you wipe the remaining tears on your face. "you and mase should watch the game from the lounge from now on. don't want a repeat of this next week, do we?"

"i love you, pulisic." you grin, scratching his beard.

"and a very aggressive i love you more to you, my girl."

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic x y/n #christian pulisic x you #chelsea fc #cp10 #football #english football #football x reader #football x y/n #football x you #premier league #mason mount #jack grealish

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