Tumgik
#and then down with luvs hands on the ground
mehiwilldoitlater · 8 hours
Note
Oohhhh! I luv your fics on Black Myth!
You think you can write a romantic-sad drabble on Wukong and his lover Lady Bone Dekon?
The little tidbit so sad and such starcross lovers situation!
When he smacked down the rice porridge, his first instinct was to kill her on sight. But then, his eyes met the one of the women in front of him, and he knew. 
No lies can hide from him; every truth is like clear water, but that was truth that he saw was icy as an ocean wave.
Her hair was white, and so was her skin. Like the snow she was, almost a ghost of her former self. 
Her eyes were now red like the blood that once was in her veins. Lost was her so lovely and natural color.
She was something different, but it was her. After all these years, she was still her.
His precious one, his wife.
Before his master and his brothers could speak, his finger had already cast the immobilized spell on them. He didn't want an audience.
Their eyes met, both of them confused, shocked, and full of emotion that was lost so many times ago.
He embraced her, feeling her cold skin against him. Since when she was so cold? Since his own embrace could not hold her? Or since she abandoned him under the mountain, broken heart, and without her own husband at her side.
Her fragile arms embrace him, skinny from her change during the years, yet so full of love for him.
If It Was a Dream, they hoped that they couldn't wake up so soon.
"My love, what happened to you?" He caressed her gaunted face, her lovely Rosy cheeks lost through the time.
"Wukong...my Wukong... you're free from the Buddha sigyl!" Your eyes fell on his companions, "and you...brought company."
Your voice... It was deeper than he remembered. It felt different... strange.
"My love, they are my master and brothers! The monkey had freed me from the mountain! So I can accompany him to India and fetch the scriptures!"
"The... scriptures?... Wukong, are you helping the same Buddha that had imprisoned you?!"
"My dear, Is for the best. It was the only way for me to get free!"
"Oh...i see..." He smiled, ready to free his friends to let You met them. "You're planning to eat the monk too, right?"
He stopped; his eyes darted from them to her face. A dark grin crossed her face, like a wound that still bleaded. Her eyes full of malice, her tongue licking her lips, observing the pilgrims.
"In that case, please share hisbflesh with me. Some can be immortal again."
He tried to look closer to see the illusion. He tried to look and find the lie that used your face and voice to manipulate him against the Tang monk. But it was the hurtful truth. She was her, and she was asking him to eat his breakfast.
His wife was fully a demon.
"You won't deny it this from me, Ri-"
"Stay back."
He barked, his voice flat yet so scarily strong. It made her stumble a little. But when she didn't back down and raise her hand over the others, his staff echoed on the ground, a wave that shocked her and everything around.
"I say back!"
She looked at him. Why? Why asking her to stop? Wasn't he the first one that wanted immortality with all his being? Why stop her? Then a closer look on his head...
"Who bound you? Who put you in chain?"
"..." He didn't respond, but it was clear who was responsible for this.
"He did it? He made you his slave?!"
"I am his disciple."
"It's not important the name! If they chain you, who cares about if you follow or you're forced! ...did he hurt... you?"
Of course he did. The Golden Rod was made for that, and she knew. The hairy became suddenly cold, the life from the ground drained, plants started to rot, and water became ice.
"Gave him to me... so I can pay him back."
His staff was now towards her, his body in a fighting pose.
"You won't hurt my master!" Please, my love, stand back. Don't force me to do this." His voice cracked; he couldn't do this. Not to her.
But she didn't move.
"Would you hurt your wife? You choose them over me?!"
"I will if I must! ...PLEASE...I beg you! Stand down!"
"..."
A moment of silence fell against the two. Was this really your destiny? To be one soul and the force to fight over a mortal that had bound him against his own will? In her vision, killing the monk was justice, but for him. She sighed.
"I'm sorry, darling," her Wicked grin reappeared. "It's for your own good."
///
The paper felt like iron in your hand. The tea was now cold in your cup, and the princess looked at your expression, meditating your words forward.
"He did kill her."
"In some way, yes..."
"Why are you showing me this then?"
She stands, purring herself some more of the tea, still warm from the embers under the teapot.
"I told you, She was my apprentice. An incredibile student...but she has fallen, so deep in her own misery to turn into a monster. Love can make incredible miracles...and curses." She turned towards you, her eyes trying to conceal her worries. "If the Destined One is bound to Wukong...my fear...if she comes back as well."
"And if she's come back...what do you expect me to do?"
"...to be ready at least."
///
"My oh my...such a nice specimen..."
On the surface of the frozen water is a mirror for the demon, the image of the Bián huá. Such an interesting one she was... but she was more intrigued by her companion.
He was...hisbspitting image. Full in his old glory, perfect like she remembered.
Did he have his best memories? Did he remember the love Wukong once felt for her? It didn't matter.
"Soon, my love..." She caressed the reflection of the Destined One, "Soon we'll have what we had lost." Until then, I'll make the right preparation."
"This time, nothing will set us apart."
@sun-jglim @crimsonflameproxy @everlastingmoonlightsworld @biankanoir
@miraclecherryblossomsblog @certifiedsimpinggalore @sleepingdramaqueen @cromboloni @masksandfeathers
@cinnamonroll-anon @justrandomlypassing @cute-angi @luckyangelballoon @dressycobra7
@naarra @virtualexpertanchor @phoenixeclipse-lmkau @szynkaaa @kirax-the-lazy-girl
@sleepydang @weaverworks @kishimiest @marcu-bug @thepoweroffiction
@riolu4 @angryvampire @s0rr3l @rootin-tootin-morgan @lightlumi
35 notes · View notes
dinerfries · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
needless to say i am NOT wynning
#for refrence my skin is always looking to the left (right when looking right at him)#my first online game in a VERRRRYYYYYY long time#im having fun#also he doesnt have to sweat drip but maybe on my next go 'round on my skin ill add it#wynncraft#I GUESS#sona#my sonas coat is now this other thing because i really like how i did the sleeves#and stuff so i didnt wanna cover too much....#boltslinger archer lvl 31 btw i wanted to be a sharpshooter but my style of play is definitely NOT geared towards that#if theres an option i tend to play ranged <- scared#but then i get cocky and start trying to get in peoples business before getting scared and running away again#this is probably the effect of playing so much kid icarus uprising all those years ago#maybe ill color....#ALSO the cut off is of my sona groveling because i think im the onlt minecraft player to grovel regularly in game#well kinda it doesnt look it but i imagine it as my sona on his knees almost praying but its like that one OooOOOoohHHhHhhh emoji image#and then down with luvs hands on the ground#and then up again!!!! idk what else to call it other than groveling#or mourning my lost soul points#okay ill shut up now#if any mutuals wynn or are interested..... hit me up ive been playing a lotta games recently and not doing a lot of literally anything else#but i think it would be fun to play... you just need minecraft and thats it skdbdkdhd its all vanilla too so dont worry 'bout mods#ALSO if i ever dont play with you or anything dont be mad.... sometimes i just am A. Scared or B. tired or C. just wanna be left alone lol#i always feel bad for not playing with people on online its a huge reason i avoided it for years (outside of my ither anxieties)#okay NOOOWWWW ill shut up#wait no i just wanna say i like how i did the bow tip for arrow bomb i think it looks cool#i also wanna say that i put MOST my points in defense so i made the undercoat spiky to reflect that#if i was more agility based it would be wispier dexterity would be more lightning-esque#you get the idea :-)#also i am very much wynning just not WINNING haha pun
17 notes · View notes
st4rbwrry · 3 months
Text
𝒟𝑅𝐼𝐹𝒯𝐼𝒩’ 𝒩 𝒦𝐼𝒮𝒮𝐼𝒩’.
Tumblr media
✧。˚ eren’s over just being your best friend.
𝒲𝒜𝑅𝒩𝐼𝒩𝒢𝒮 𓇼 8.7k fem!reader, lowercase intended, girly girl reader, friends who rlly like each other, smoking, drifting, fluffy scenes, eren is super soft for reader, dirty talk, unprotected sex, car festivities, kissing, neck biting, bits of roughness, multiple orgasms + overstimulation, choking, ass hits, cunnilingus, daddy kink, pet names ex. ꒰ baby, pretty, luv. ꒱ , praise, sub/dom, thicq!reader, goofy loving cutesy shit, minors do not interact! comments & reblogs are appreciated.
Tumblr media
"i'm outside."
why is that text always terrifying to receive? it's the quickest way to make your heart fall to your ass in milliseconds. you can't help but roll your eyes and suck your teeth because he's too early, or maybe you were too late. it's only nine thirty so you're confused why he's here already. dropping the puffy makeup brush in your hand, you stand up from your brightly lit royal vanity with intricate carvings in the pearl-toned wood. slipping your painted white toes into a pair of hot pink teddy bear slides to make your way out of your bedroom and towards the front door for this asshole. 
eren gets smacked in the face with your prettiness the minute you open your door, smelling like marshmallows and looking like a fucking bratz doll. your beauty stuns him every time. the six-foot-three man before you rests his weight against the wall on the outside, one arm stretched above as he leans over you with a wicked smile on his deadly gorgeous face. he's wearing a white graphic tee with pink graffiti spray painted on reading killer alongside a lavender nissan 350z. it's old merch connie was testing for his line. he also makes eren's shirts for his auto shop. 
eren's also attired in black slim jeans and beat up 550 new balances, his signature racing shoes. his silver chain on his neck dangling as he kisses your forehead, the move so slick. you've noticed he liked to touch you a lot, give little indications of affection. kissing your hand, your cheek, your face overall. he grabbed your ass a lot, and it's so excessive you have to give him a hard swat and a death glare to actually make him stop. 
"hello, eren," the way you say it has annoyance laced in it. turning away from him and walking away with that salacious sway your hips have. eren tongues his inner cheek, chuckling as he enters your home and shuts the door. he forgets how quick you walk, literally speed walking to your room since by the time he gets there you're already back on your powdered white tufted ottoman doing your makeup. riiverdance by beyoncé plays softly from the small speaker you kept on your windowsill so the music travels better. 
"damn, i can't get no kiss? you fussy with me already." eren remarks, looking below him to see the fluffy black cat brushing up against his leg, scooping her up with one hand and petting her as he takes a seat on your bed. 
"no. . aht aht! outside clothes, off the bed!" you're snapping your fingers at him as if he's your cat, eren swiftly raising his ass off your bed, blinking slow. 
"where am i supposed to sit, woman?" 
"the floor like always."
"tryna get cat hair on my shit," eren sucks his teeth, sinking down to the ground and groaning when your cat scrambles to get out of his hold, never liked being touched for long periods of time. 
"you literally decided to pick her up knowing you're wearing white. that's your fault." 
you were right but he couldn't resist holding her. that's his daughter. he's not giving you the satisfaction of being right though. manspreading, eren cocks his head to the side to watch you closely. you can see his entire reflection in your mirror, quickly glancing his way and ignoring the way he slowly licks his lips and knocks his legs in and out, unbeknownst to you, to chill his dick. 
"so fuckin' gorgeous," eren smiles, those bright white teeth making you wanna fold immediately. eren loved watching you do your makeup. eyes softening for you. he found it so mesmerizing. you surely didn't need it but it made you happy so it makes him happy. "you wearin' that white on your waterline like i like. that jus' f'me?"
you pucker your lips. "mhm, nah. i just like it. i do nothing for your gratification."
"ouch," eren holds his tatted hand to his chest, shock overcoming his features. "keep hurtin' my feelings like that 'n your ass won't have a ride tonight. or no food."
that last line alarms you more than anything. one thing you didn't play about, and he knows this especially. . . is your hunger. you honestly haven't eaten much all day. working a shift at the hospital and only having a salad on your break wasn't filling at all. you all talked in your group chat about how saturday's the perfect day to go drifting tonight and grab some chinese at your favorite restaurant in town. your check hadn't hit yet but eren being him since he likes you so damn much offered to pay for you. you declined, as usual, but he didn't give a fuck about what you said, you were coming either way. to be honest, he missed your little sweet ass. a lot. you've been working mostly overnight shifts, being a SPT wasn't for the weak. and he's been busy at the shop fixing and selling cars. your days apart, aside from texting and facetiming made him want to be in your presence. he felt complete with you. you had to know that.
"if you gonna play with me about my food then ima just head to bed right now and starve," you basically threaten him. eren hated when you don't eat enough, makes dumb jokes about how you'll 'lose those thick ass hips of yours.' the boy will make it his mission to grab you something quick. he's your food and weed dealer. also your personal chauffeur, absolutely loving when you're his passenger princess.
"don't be fuckin’ dramatic, brat. i'm playin'. you know i got you," he stands back to his feet to come by you, pressing his midsection to your backside, where you can also feel the outline of his dick, trying your best to ignore the way it makes your face heat up. teasingly, he starts sliding his warm hands over your shoulders and down to your waist. cautiously, you eye him, having a hot wave of panic hit you when he begins tickling your left side. your most sensitive side, mind you. you screech and twist your body into a curling position trying to escape his attack. 
"eren! get the fuck off me, bro!" he's laughing hard at your attempt to twist and yank away from his grasp, screeching and biting his arm which he flinches from and moves away. 
“oww, fuckin’ gremlin,” he hisses dramatically, as if you’d stabbed him. “next time smile when you see me at that fuckin' door. gimme a 'hey, daddy' with it, too. it'll make my dick jump."
"your dick jumps for me enough."
eren’s eyes meets yours in the reflection of your vanity mirror. he shrugs nonchalantly, a devilish grin spreading across his face.
“well,” he begins, dragging the word out as he takes a step closer to you again. “you wanna see it?” 
you roll your eyes, his voice dropping lower, becoming more intense as he continues. “know you wanna see it again.” 
“says who?” you raise your brow, testing him. 
by again, he means accidentally when he was showering at your place and forgot to grab his boxers before he went inside your bathroom, thinking you were sleep when you were in fact up reading on your phone. wanting to laugh at the memory of him turning red in the face and trying his best to shield his dick with his hands. making a snide comment about how badly you wanted to stare at it. 
“you heard me,” he states simply, his gaze never leaving yours in the mirror. he's leaning directly over you, forehead nearly touching yours. his presence is overwhelming, filling the small room with his raw masculinity. this is a regular thing by the way. his constant teasing. waiting for you to let up. 
“okay, daddy,” you grin mischievously.
“mhm,” he kisses his teeth, and at the same moment his phone vibrates in his pocket. eren fishes for it, checking a text from connie. 
"connie’s outside, you done?” 
“you rushing me now? i don’t like this rennie tonight,” you tsk, shaking your finger like a disappointment mother. standing to your feet, you brush out the curls in your head by running your fingertips through them. 
you do look so pretty tonight. wearing an oversized pink greenbay packers jersey with a flowy white mini skirt, eren watching as you enter your walk in closet to fish for some white socks to scrunch at your ankle, and the same pair of sneakers he currently wore. my little twin. 
“sorry, i’ll be on my best behavior.” 
you smile, standing on your tiptoes and pinching his cheek, eren liking the view a bit too much, trying to fight the urge to grab your hips and pull you close. “such a good boy. now, let’s go!” 
“wait, i want a kiss, wife,” eren smiled, trying to lean in before you pull away and shove your hand in his face. 
“leave me alone, pervert!” 
connie’s goal tonight was to show off the enhancements he added to his neon green scion frs, the car humming outside of your house when you go to say hello to him. he mentions that he’s going to swing by to pick up his girlfriend before he meets the two of you there. she didn’t live too far so he was able to make it before you two did, eren always having to make a mental note not to drive like a dickhead when you’re in the car. knowing your nerves are bad. they’ve gotten slightly better though since you’re with him all the time. 
you loved drift meet up’s because it was a free car show to see all the cool ass cars, most of the models popular in japan. men and women in groups drinking and bumping music as they interact. it’s illegal as hell where you live but sometimes everyone’s able to get away with it if they don’t act too much like jackasses. this spot was mostly secluded from open roads or police. 
eren walks alongside you, his arm loosely draped around your shoulders as you both make your way  to the forefront where cars currently span in action. his car wasn’t parked too far, planning on performing a show himself in a little. the adrenaline pumping through the crowd as drivers send their vehicles skidding around corners and spinning donuts in the dirt your favorite, and his. connie arrives not too long after, eren going up to talk to him before you’re locked in, excited for him. 
“i need to teach you how to drift one of these days. i gotta see your pretty ass behind a nissan 240sx or sum,” he says, pulling you closer into his side so you can hear him over the noise. 
“that’s specific,” you laugh, looking up at him while chewing your gum, rocking with him. 
eren grins down at you, his hand tightening slightly around your shoulder as he pulls you closer to him. “what can i say? i have a type.” 
“you sure do,” your voice trails off, focused on connie’s loud car screeching and swinging before the crowd around you. cheers vibrating your ears like a concert. the feeling like a movie. you don’t notice that eren keeps his eyes on you the whole time, admiring you as you jump, clap, and scream from excitement. pulling your phone out to record your friend. 
removing yourself from his arm, you notice the cars currently in the circle beginning to depart and make way for others. “con’s!”
eren shakes his head as he watches you bolt towards connie’s car, jumping up and down like a kid, bending low to give him a high five. “that was fucking awesome!” 
“yeah, fuck with me!” he continues to slap his palm with yours. you look over to his girlfriend in the passenger seat, reaching over to twinkle fingers. 
“hey girly!” luna smiles, tucking her long dark hair behind her ear since it blew everywhere from the wind. 
“hiii!” you giggle. 
“shit was good, i taught you well,” eren approaches, their heavy hands interacting, shaking before snapping their fingers. 
“yea, whatever. you always want full credit, asshole,” connie sucks his teeth. 
“oh my god, we should totally drift each other!” luna suggests. connie whips his head in her direction. 
“wha—who said you driving my car?” connie blinks, flabbergasted. 
luna goes to hit his arm playfully. “cabrona, i meant she can get in the car with eren and yall do yall lil’ thingy thing.” 
“oooo, yayyy!” you approve instantly, clapping your hands together and turning to eren with puppy eyes. “oh, please?! i wanna shotgun!” 
“be my guest, sweetheart. but don’t try to hang your head out the window again like a damn dog, or else,” his voice drops low, a warning lacing his words as he gives you a knowing look.
“mhm, i make no promises,” you wink, racing towards his car. 
connie laughs at eren’s strained face, his friend knowing deep down he loved it. connie knew a lot you didn’t know. like the fact that eren’s madly in love with you, and has been ever since freshman year of high school. it’s not secret to anyone, really.  as eren approaches his parked car you bounced impatiently beside, he opens the passenger door for you, gesturing for you to climb in before walking over to the driver's seat. the interior of his black r34 gtr is pristine, everything from the leather seats to the carbon fiber accents shining under the sunlight. you loved when he picked you up just to take you for a ride. he works on cars practically all day given he owns an auto shop, detailing and adding enhancements being his daily thing.
he’s getting his hands dirty and his mind fried from mechanical work. he customized this car to make it his own, his name written in japanese on the right corner of front window, a front spoiler splitter, apexi gt specthe which makes his exhaust sound like fucking gunshots, which terrifies you. on top of detailing the body of the car with giant dragons painted silver on either side of the vehicle. standing out to the crowd uniquely. 
eren makes his way inside of the vehicle, big hands gripping the steering wheel as he adjusts his legs in his seat, your eyes locking there momentarily before he inserts his key into the ignition, firing up the extremely loud engine. an anxious smile shows on your face once you see everyone yelling over the power of his car, having been in it a million times, you still hated the sound, triggering your sensory overload. but, you loved the thrill. swallowing, you turn to him, balling up his shirt on his hip to grab his attention. 
“promise me you’ll be safe,” you look up at him, worried.
a soft smile tugs at his lips as he sees the concern in your eyes. he reaches out, brushing a stray curl of hair from your face with his thumb. “don't worry, princess. i'll take care of both you and my baby here.” 
“i’m trusting you,” you whisper, biting your lip. “don’t hit anybody, i don’t need you going to jail. and please don’t hit connie, because he will kill you if you fuck up his car.” 
eren smirks, his hand dropping from your face to gently cradle the back of your neck. his grip is firm yet tender. “now why’d i risk traumatizing my girl like that?” 
you suck your teeth and pull away from him, crossing your arms. he only sets his hand on your thigh now, and you let him. “aren’t you going to start driving?” 
eren laughs heartily, his hand tightening around your thigh as he does. he revs the engine, feeling the power beneath them rumble in anticipation. his eyes flash dangerously in the dim light of the cars. “promise me something, too?” 
“what?”
“we’ll finish playing mommy and daddy when we get home?” he grins. 
“oh please, you know you can’t handle me,” you tease. such a bad habit you two have. joking too damn much. but by this point, from his end especially, you’re aware none of it is a joke. 
eren raised a brow, feeling threatened. “oh, i can’t?” 
“nope. and you’re too scared to admit it,” you taunt, fluttering a kiss in his direction. 
“mhm,” eren kisses his teeth, he gives a curt nod, as if making a mental note. “ima hold you to that.” 
“drive the damn car, eren.” 
ignoring the warmth in your chest from his flirting, he finally shifts the car into gear. with a roar of the engine, he accelerates onto the street, leaving behind a cloud of smoke. malice at the palace by BONES is bumping through the stereo system as eren expertly maneuvers his car around the road, each turn and drift executed with precision. the sound of the engine reverberating through the car sends a rush of adrenaline through him. you hated to admit how fucking good he looked right now, your hand gripping onto his bicep as you giggle each time he executes a perfect drift, tires screeching, watching connie’s car across from his spin around each other. part of him hopes to impress you. and clearly he has by the huge smile on your face. you’re like a kid in a candy shop, eyes lit up. 
“i’m doing it!” you yell, eren watching as you climb up on your seat, skirt rising from the wind blowing, your ass hanging out making his eyes go wide. 
“꒰♡꒱, sit your ass down.”
“woo!” it’s too late, now you’re banging the palm of your hand on the outside of the door, staring at others who hollered back at you, your curls flying in the wind. the people screaming and cheering louder the more you raised your upper body outside of the window, being sure to secure yourself. eren’s hand instinctively clutch onto your ankle. 
“goddamit,” he groans, but couldn’t help the feeling in his heart from your pure laughter. you’re enjoying yourself, that makes him happy. but your safety is important. given that, he slows down just enough so that it feels safe for you not to jolt and fall out of the car. despite your reckless act, he couldn’t help but marvel at how fearless you truly are.
connie’s car slides vertically next to eren’s, taking your chance to reach out and graze your fingers with luna’s as she leans her body outside of the window like you do, the two of you screaming like fans of your favorite superstar. the adrenaline pumping through your veins is exhilarating. 
eren’s hitting on the brakes, causing the tires to yell and the car to skid sideways. with a swift move of his foot on the gas pedal, eren launches his car into a perfect 360-degree spin. the car gracefully arcs around its axis before smoothly coming back onto its original trajectory, all done. the world outside blurs into a whirlwind of colors and shapes as you scream into the wind, lowering your body to take your seat in your original position. 
“that was sooo fun!” the sound you make is the cutest, giggling and bouncing your legs, full of energy now. he adores the glint in your eyes, but he also couldn’t hide the upset on his face. 
“i’m sure. next time, listen to me when i say don’t hang your body halfway out the fucking car. you’ve never done that before, what if you flew out?” the sudden change in his tone takes you aback. 
“i can take care of myself,” you retort, your defiant words making him clench his jaw. 
“not saying you can’t. i’m telling you don’t be so fuckin’ reckless,” his hand moves from the steering wheel to smooth down his face, keeping himself calm, despite the current situation being anything but serene. he doesn’t mean to ruin your mood. surely didn’t want to cause an argument. he just needed you to understand where he was coming from. “don’t die trying to show off.” 
“don’t die trying to protect me.” 
“꒰♡꒱ . . cut that big girl shit, seriously.” 
“aren’t we meeting our friends to get food? let’s go.” 
connie did mention they’d be grabbing food right after, eren clenching his jaw and pulling his attention away from you. he tries not to keep you at these events for too long, sometimes things get rowdy and guns are drawn and he wouldn’t allow either of you to be around that. shifting his car back into drive, he pulls away from the scene to trail behind connie. you hated the current silence of the car, picking up your phone to distract yourself from any conversation. as you pull up next to your group, onyankopon popping up a minute after, eren kills the engine and opens his door with ease. he rounds the car, opening the door for you. you give a quiet ‘thanks’ before speed walking away to luna. eren sighs deeply, sucking his teeth and locking his car, pulling a puff bar from his pocket and leaning against his vehicle to calm himself for a minute. 
“you okay? you look sad?” luna frowns as she holds your hand, ready to cross the street to enter the chinese restaurant. 
you make an awkward expression, not really wanting to make it a big deal. “nothing, i’m just hungry! also kind of have a headache from the whiplash.” 
glancing beside you, you see eren approaching onyankopon, shoving his keys into his pocket while simultaneously colliding their hands for a handshake, hearing the small ‘yo, wassup’ from the pair before you turn your head away, luna pulling you along with her. the five of you find a booth inside of the almost empty restaurant given its close to closing, being one o’clock in the morning and all. you take the time to catch up with luna since she’s been busy with esthetician classes and try your best to avoid eren . . even if he’s sitting directly next to you. this act can only go for so long before the two of you catch glances repeatedly, still making little interactions with the group together if you had to. you didn’t want everyone knowing that you two had a small fight. was it really a fight? you were fine, at least that’s what you liked to tell yourself. 
time passes and onyankopon is the first to leave, mentioning he has to get up early for work and saying his goodbyes. that leaves luna and connie to cuddle up next to one another in the booth, your eyes studying the way his arm is draped around her shoulder while he listens intently on everything she says, bopping her nose with his finger as she giggles cutely. you smile faintly, looking down at the food you’re playing with at this point with your chopsticks. 
eren glances at you as he finishes his plate, a finger pressed to his temple as he leans his elbow on the table. you feel his glare, turning his way to see what he wanted. his eyes holding a certain intensity that only you seem to understand. “come take a ride with me.” 
you continue to fiddle with your chopsticks, swallowing air. “where are we going?” 
“i need to talk to you about something.” 
you’ve dreaded this. unsure of what was going to come from him when you two were alone. you’re not sure if he’s still mad about earlier, his reaction when luna brought up your car moment laced with irritation, like he wanted nothing to do with it. honestly, there was nothing more to talk about. he knows you don’t like confrontation, so you hoped he wouldn’t make an entire conversation about why he feels the way he does. a simple apology should’ve sufficed. the anxiety is pumping through you now, wanting to groan from his seriousness. one thing you’ve learned about eren was that he was big on communication. if something bothered him or he felt like certain things needed to be talked about, he’d take that chance to fix it. when he’s serious about something, it gave you goosebumps. 
his gaze lingers on yours, the flickering candlelight on the table casting an enchanting glow on his features. you swallow, nodding. “okay.” 
“we’re gonna go,” you grab the couples attention across the booth, connie and luna sitting up the moment you and eren stand. 
“awe, okay boo! it was nice seeing y’all,” luna waves to both of you. eren’s patting his pocket for his keys, pulling out his wallet to set cash on the table for the both of you. 
eren smiles. “you too, love. i’ll see you tomorrow, con.” 
“bet, see you. y’all be safe.” 
the car shifts into gear and pulls out onto the quiet street, the sound of heavy wind encasing the vehicle the only thing you could hear, blurring out the world. eren drove possibly fifteen minutes to a spot only the two of you go to. it’s secluded, parked under a giant tree in a grass field high on a hill that overlooked the city night. it’s surely a romantic destination. the two of you go here whenever you need to rant about life or just escape. it’s been your spot since high school. the slow melody of rnb fills the interior, creating an intimate atmosphere. the two of you sit for a moment, eren fishing for his puff bar to take a few passes before you finally say something. 
“can i?” you ask, voice an almost hushed whisper. gesturing towards the object. 
“yeah,” he’s handing it your way, clearing his throat before leaning back into his seat, smoothing both hands down his thighs before adjusting comfortably, closing his eyes momentarily. 
eren takes a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair. “lemme start by saying i’m not mad at you.” 
you blink, shifting your body so all of your attention is on him so he feels important. you tend to stare off into nothingness during these moments. 
“yes, are you stubborn as fuck and it pisses me off at times? absolutely. you know when it comes to you, shit like that makes me anxious. i have that urge to protect you, and it’s always been like that. so don’t think i’m being immature by wanting to care for your safety. i know you’re grown, and you carry yourself well. but sometimes i need for you to just listen when i get gut feelings about shit.” 
“i know, and i apologize,” you reply almost instantly, the thought being on your mind the entire dinner, but unable to let the words pass. “i do appreciate how you care for me. i was just having fun and didn’t want my mood to be ruined. it was dangerous, anything could’ve happened.” 
despite his uncertainty, there's no denying the sincerity in his gaze; a raw vulnerability that contrasts sharply against his usual confident demeanor. struggling to say what’s really on his mind at the moment. “you still have that bad habit of never wanting to be corrected.” 
“yeah,” you lower your head to your thighs, fiddling with the fabric of your skirt. “still working on it. i tend to be too aggressive when i want to be right.” 
“i’m glad you understand. but, that’s not what i wanted to talk to you about.” 
you look up. “what is it? did something happen?” 
eren takes another deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to reveal. his gaze never leaving yours as he prepares to lay his heart bare. “look . . i’m g’na be straightforward with you. i don’t need you to take this as something that has to be figured out immediately. i’ll give you the time and space you need to think on it if you’re feeling the opposite. but. .”
his cheeks flush slightly under your scrutinizing stare. it’s clear that whatever he's about to say is far from easy for him. he’s scaring you. “me and you, we been close since kids. i have love for you for life, but i need you to know that it’s been hard just being your friend. my emotions are consuming me, and being around you all the time is only making it more difficult. i see myself being with you, being in love with you. . for a long time now.” 
the confession hangs heavy in the air between you both; raw and vulnerable, yet undeniably true. his heart pounds loudly in his chest as he waits for your reaction, bracing himself for either acceptance or rejection. either way, he’d stand by what he felt. and if you didn’t feel the same, it would hurt, but he would respect your boundaries. you’re unsure why you’re not . . surprised? he’s always been extremely affectionate with you, much more than a best friend should be. wasn’t necessarily fond of seeing you with other men or hearing about who you slept with. you told each other everything. had sleepovers. shared beds, and at times when you fell asleep before him, he’d brush a finger along your cheek and admired your beauty. 
"my dream is to get you that big ass loft you want with the tall glass windows that overlook the city. decorate it how you want, be my pretty fuckin housewife that gets to stay home and do whatever you want. shit, start your own business. i'll pay for it all. i'll take care of you. i want you to myself, always. never wanna leave you. wanna get your name tatted on me. kiss you all day. cuddle, watch your favorite movies and shitty supernatural tv shows. run you bubble baths 'n fuck you real good every time i come home. buy you that wolf gray kia k5 with pink interior you've been wantin'. send you on vacations. buy you all the sanrio plushies in the fuckin' world. want you to be mine, ꒰♡꒱."
" eren. . . "
"i'll even learn how to cook for you, princess. 'n you know i'm bad as fuck at that shit," eren chuckles, raking his fingers through your hair. you laugh with him, tears in your eyes. "but i'll learn for you so i can always make you some authentic udon ramen or birria tacos, all that good shit you love. cause you're my girl 'n you deserve it all."
eren's hands move to rest on your hips, pulling you closer to him. his fingers trace small circles on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. his touch is gentle yet possessive. a tangible manifestation of the love he's been harboring for you. each stroke of his fingertips against your body feels like an exploration, a journey into the depths of your being that only he has access to.
“talk to me,” he bites his lip, lips nearly brushing your own, unable to help the pure attraction towards you. it’s stronger than ever right now. 
“i feel the same way,” you lean in, moaning from his touch, his hands on you all the time, though somehow now they make you weaker. “i just didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”
eren’s breath hitches, a combination of shock and relief consuming him. “why the fuck would you think that?” 
your shoulders shrug shyly. “i don’t know,” your voice drags quietly. “sometimes shit like that doesn’t work for everybody. and we have a great friendship. i didn’t want us being together to fuck up the vibe.” 
“we not everyone,” he states, brushing a curl from your pretty face. “and we act like we date anyways. wouldn’t be no different.”
you recepriocate the act, brushing a few brown strands of hair that fell in front of his face, locking eyes before your lips press against his in feverish kiss. his tongue parts your lips, exploring the warm cavern of your mouth with a passionate intensity. his hands roam freely over your body now, one tracing delicate patterns on your lower back while the other slips beneath your shirt to feel the warmth of your skin underneath. every touch is filled with desire and longing, a testament to the depth of his feelings for you. the heat in your face blows higher, as if the ache to kiss him was a distant dream. to finally taste him was something you hadn’t known you needed. both of your hearts are pounding in your chests, every beat echoing the intensity of your feelings for each other. 
“you have no idea,” he whispers huskily, pecking your lips. you moan, body melting into his touch. you could slip through his fingers like puddy, this center console blocking you. “how much i want you.” 
“show me then.” 
eren’s eyes darken with desire. his hands slide down to grip your ass, climbing over the console to reach for the recliner on your seat, your flushed face heating up from the close proximity, his hair brush along the apples of your cheek, his smell intoxicating. you giggle when he goes to remove the headrest of the chair, banging his hand into the seat so it’s completely flat and you’re resting on your back. eren hovers completely over you, bringing his body to the passenger side, squeaking when you feel his hardness brush against your clit, a clear indication of just how much he wants you. taking your lip between his teeth, he gives it a playful nip before trailing hot kisses down your neck, going to capture your lips in another hot kiss, rolling his hips into yours making you gasp. you trail your hands underneath his black shirt, hands sliding up his broad backside.
“i need you,” you whimper, knees disconnecting to spread yourself for him, scooting higher up the seat. your desperation makes his control slip further. 
“fuck,” he murmurs, voice thick with desire, tracing along the curve of your waist before dipping lower to tease at the hemline of your skirt. “you’re making it hard for me to keep my shit together.” 
“lick me up,” you whimper, pushing your hips down so your core presses against the bulge in his jeans, eren keeping down the moan in his throat, studying you. your thumbs slip into the band of your skirt, trying to indicate that you wanted them off. “please, m’dripping.”
“fuck,” he whispers again, this newfound sense of lust you had enrapturing him. “anything for you, baby.” 
his hands slip beneath your skirt to explore the softness of your thighs, smoothing over your ass as you raise your hips so it’s easier for him to pull off your skirt, his mouth watering at the bare sight of you wearing no panties. you’d slipped off your sneakers, the balls of your feet digging into his shoulder blades as he pushes you further up the chair for both of your comfortability, craning his neck between the plush of your heated thighs. he breathes in your scent, moaning into a kiss he places on your inner thigh. 
“c’mon—ah!” your breath is taken from you for your impatience, eren’s mouth circling around your clit for a quick feel before he’s lowering his tongue to taste all of you. locking his eyes with yours as you thread your fingers through his hair to push away, deciding to remove the hair tie from around your wrist to tie his hair onto the back of his head. 
the taste of you on his lips drives him wild, craving this for years on end. eren groans from the sweet taste you leave on his fat tongue, his breath fanning over your sensitive flesh sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. eren growls in approval at your submission, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulls you closer to his mouth, swallowing down your clit, sucking on your pussy to hear you make those pretty noises he’s only heard once in his life. accidentally, of course. maybe catching you fucking yourself coming up the stairs without your knowledge, wanting to surprise you with food while the two of you studied for finals. he’s always kept that to himself, knowing you’d be extremely embarrassed by it. of course, he didn’t know it’s because you couldn’t stop thinking about what he wore in p.e; a black deftones muscle tank he cut as a crop top with gray sweatpants, his hair pulled into a manbun with his skin glistening in sweat from the insane weather out. dark ink around his skin making your mind run rapid. 
he releases his mouth momentarily, popping off your clit lewdly to murmur, “you are fuckin’ drippin’.” 
your back arches into his embrace, craning your neck as you rock against his face, eren grinning wickedly at your muffled sound, his tongue delving deeper into your folds. he laps at your entrance, thriving for every drop. his hands move to spread your legs wider apart, giving him better access to feast on your needy cunt. you hum in ecstasy, the sensation from the metal ball of his tongue piercing flicking your clit, using it to tease and torment you. his dark eyes watching you like prey, squirming and gasping from every suck. 
“fuck, baby,” he moans. “you’re so sensitive.” 
his hands move to cradle your ass cheeks as he pushes your ass up to fuck his face better, pussy glistening under the moonlight. his tongue continues it’s relentless assault, curling and connecting his tongue with your aching cunt feverishly while suctioning his lips around your swollen clit. your hands stretch to grip onto the door handle, moaning when his hand goes to smack the back of your thigh. eren growls at your helpless moans, his tongue delving deeper into your slick folds, slithering inside of you to prep you. his hands pinning your legs wide allows him unrestricted access to your throbbing cunt.
“wet n’ pretty ass pussy, baby. so, so pretty. jus’ like you, right?” he groans against you, increasing the pressure on his tongue, thrusting it in and out of you rhythmically. his free hand moves to play with your clit, rolling the sensitive nub under his thumb as he devours your pussy. 
without waiting for a response, he resumes his ministrations, his tongue plunging back into your dripping cunny while one hand continues to toy with your clit. his actions intensify as he listens to your desperate whimpers. his tongue laps at your slit greedily, drinking down every drop of your sweetness, thumb working overtime on your clit, rubbing up and down mercilessly.
“stick your fingers in me,” you whine, the brokenness in your tone only making his dick harder. he’d rather shove his dick in you, but he wouldn’t deny what you pleaded for. 
eren chuckles darkly at your plea, and within a second, his ring and index fingers are slipping inside of you, eren curling them upwards, searching for that sweet spot deep within your pussy.
“like this?” he sputters against your clit, your juices encapsulating him. your inner thighs tremble from the switch up, biting your lip and nodding. “fuck you up real good? ‘till you cream on me?” 
“y-yesss, f-fuck,” your sobs overtake you, his tongue continuing it’s relentless assault on your sensitive bud, licking and sucking it into oblivion. eren hums in agreement, his fingers pumping in and out of your soaked cunt. he watches his fingers pump harder into your quivering cunt with furrowed brows, mumbling expletives to himself in fascination, your cunny squelching and sinking them in each time they threatened to pull out. 
“ima sink my dick in your shit, fuck. i’m too fucking hard for you,” he groans against your clit, pace quickening, the combination of his fingers fucking into you while his tongue circles around your clit pushing you closer to the edge.
“keep fucking me, baby. fuckin’ love your tongue.” 
eren loves your cries so much it’s hurting his dick bad, his fingers pumping harder into your twitching cunt, begging for you to cum. you’re drenching his fingers. he removes them when he notices your hand is cupping underneath his jaw, pulling his face in deeper and swaying your hips, the balled up expression on your face reading all he needed to know. you stretch your legs high, clamping your thighs shut and wrapping your arms underneath the curve of your knees to angle them towards your chest. eren licks his lips before sinking his tongue deep into you, thrusting his tongue like he’d use his dick.  
making a noise of approval, you grip onto his hair while maintaining your position, yanking his head back and forth, screaming as his face clashes with your pussy, tongue fucking you open until you finally cum. your tummy caves in, lifting your head to press into your knees as you catch your breath, streaming out praises of ‘yes, yes yes, baby,’ as he continues to fuck you on his tongue, uncaring of you drenching his nose and chin. 
while you take time to recuperate, eren’s leaning his head up to clean his face with the back of his hand, licking off the remainder as he reaches down to unbutton his jeans, slipping them down to his thighs and giving his dick a few slow strokes, the sight of it, thick and long, glistening with precum is enough to make anyone drool. eren holds onto it teasingly, keeping it just out of reach as he watches your reaction. “knew you wanted to see it again.” 
you cover your face. “shut up.”
with a lustful gleam in his eyes, he lines the throbbing tip against your wet slit, sliding it up and down to gather your arousal before he’s grabbing the back of your neck to look into your eyes, heavy body hovering over yours, trying his best not to lean all of his weight onto you. granted, that’s exactly what you wanted, to be suffocated under him. feel weak, submissive. 
“tell me you’re okay.” 
you nod, eyes slowly closing, unable to keep focus. “yes, m’okay. it’s okay.” 
the feeling of being sheathed within your tight pussy makes him shudder, removing his hand from your neck to balance his body by gripping onto either side of the leather seat after locking your legs flat. you reach for the recliner to level the seat up a little more, eren kissing your forehead. you drag your body lower so it’s easier for him to move, shivering from the full feeling he gives you, and that’s only half of him. 
“fuck,” he gasps, grinding into you slowly so you’ll adjust. you swivel your hips, teeth biting into your lip as you stare at the sharp cut of his jawline, emerald eyes clamped shut. “that’s it.” 
with each heavy thrust, eren can’t help the animalistic groans emitting from him, the deep baritone of his voice making your clit pulsate harder as he fucks himself deeper into you. your skin clapping as he pounds into you hard, hitting your spot and making you cry for him. he wheezes within the crevice of your neck, both of your moans colliding within the small enclosure, vibrating over the music flowing from his speakers. he’s fucking you faster with each thrust.
“s’so good, f-fuck,” the wind gets taken from you with every harsh pound, grunting beneath him and taking it all. he felt so fucking good, you couldn’t believe you waited this long just to let him fuck you. too many opportunities missed. for good and wrongs reasons though. 
“that’s it, you’re such a good girl,” his mouth gives you a chaste, sloppy kiss to your pouty lips. everything he does makes you want to cum. heavier and stronger than the last. he’s a fucking trip. 
“i’m your good girl?” your bottom lip is pulled into your mouth, teeth baring as you smile drunkenly. 
“ ‘course you are,” he kisses you again, prolonging it this time, your body slipping lower giving him the chance to fuck you even deeper, stretching you open and stuffing you full. you can feel him all in your tummy, your brows furrowed. “better than that. you’re my baby.” 
“i’m your baby?” the drag out of a whiny tone as you grip onto his chin to keep his eyes on yours has the man before you crumbling. 
eren practically whines from the way you speak to him, molding your frame into his seat from the strength he fucked you with, listening to your pussy cry for him. “you’re my baby.” 
“my pussy loves you,” you move with him, your tight cunt squeezing him, feeling that warmth build up in your stomach. 
“it does, huh. tell me how much, love.” 
“loves it so fucking much, daddy.” 
“that’s what i wanted to hear,” he hisses, groaning and fucking you faster, straightening his legs so he gets a get angle, hitting into you with all his weight. “oh god, baby. you feel so fuckin’ good.” 
“yeah, daddy?” you whimper, biting your lip. 
“yes, babydoll,” eren groans in agreement, cursing to himself as he slips his dick out, the two of you gasping from the disconnect, eren lifting himself from you. “bend over.”
you use the seat to turn yourself around, hiking yourself further up to give his big body space to settle behind you. you keep your thighs pressed together, shifting your ass back against him and arching your back low. you jump when he lands a heavy swat to your ass, hissing as his fingertips grip your flesh and bounce your ass back, mesmerized by how it moves. he draws his hips back, flexing his dick to make it jump into the right position to easily slide within your wet opening, the angle allowing him to hit deeper within your pussy than before. 
“unh, sshit,” eren moans, hands grabbing either side of your hips and tugs you back, your ass clapping amongst his toned abdomen. your forehead is connected with the seat, mouth agape as you feel the swell of him slip in and out of you, eyes scrolling to the back of your skull. 
“sshit, you’re so deep, ah!” 
his thrusts become more forceful, hitting even deeper within your pussy. with every stroke, he feels himself getting closer to release. eren growls, his canines grazing your skin as he leans in to bite your neck, your filthy whine only serving to heighten his arousal. he continues to thrust hard into you, each movement sending you both closer to breakage. 
“g’na cum, baby,” eren whimpers, rolling his waist into you, that pressure in his lower abdomen threatening to break. 
“noo, don’t cum yet,” you whine, shaking your head pleadingly. “n-not there yet.” 
“i won’t. won’t cum yet, baby,” he hisses in response. “wanna wait for daddy? so we can cum together?” 
“mmnh, wanna cum with you, baby,” your head nods drunkenly, sightly blurry. your body aches from the lack of space in the car, but it felt so good to be overpowered by him. drilling his dick into you harder. 
“take it f’me, ꒰♡꒱.” 
“i’m taking it, baby. for you.” 
“moan f’me,” his lips get closer to your ear, eren’s eyes squeezing tight, jaw wide as he fucks your pussy open. 
“m-moaning for you, babyy-ah!”
“fuck it back f’me, act like you wanna get fucked,” eren growls in pleasure, his thrusts continuing.
“i’ll fuck it for you, fuck it for you,” you’re straight up sobbing now, rolling your ass back to meet his rough strokes, dripping down your inner thighs. you’d never been fucked this good before in your life. could have possibly been the chemistry, or the longing for him. “ooo-mnmg, i feel it.” 
eren smirks, his hands moving to encircle your throat. his grip tightens slightly, cutting off your air supply, his clothed chest on your back and the coldness from his silver chain tickling your flesh. “eren, ima cum again. k-keep it there.” 
your body shudders beneath him, waves of pleasure crashing as you feel your orgasm breaks through you, pussy clenching tightly around his cock and whimpering vehemently in his face, sobbing from your inability to withhold your orgasm as well as the overwhelming way he fucked you. 
“ren,” you weep, reaching your hand behind yourself to try to push his hips away. but he doesn’t budge. eren grips your wrist to bend it still behind your back, slowing his movements the last motive. 
“you came without me, baby. bad girl,” he tightens his grip on your wrist, giving an open mouthed kissed over the side of your face. 
a small cry fell from your lips. "s-sorry. fuck, rennie . . please.”
"please, what?” he grits his teeth, the shortest hairs in front sticking to his forehead while the others threaten to fall loose from the small bun on the back of his head. the silver bracelets on his wrist clanking as he yanks you back to meet his aggressive thrusts. 
"please, eren—s-slow. i’m sensitive.” 
"that's not my name. what's my fuckin’ my name, ꒰♡꒱?" he grunts dominantly, pressing a harsh kiss to your temple, knowing what he needs.
"s-shit—daddy, please!” 
despite your pleas, he keeps fucking you mercilessly, his cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy with ease. the sensation of being buried within you is too intoxicating for him to stop.
“jus’ a little more, baby. please take it a lil more,” his hand lands heavily on your ass, slowing his thrusts a bit for your sake and to feel your pussy constrict and beg to swallow him deeper as he shifts his hips slightly back, the tip of his dick kissing your entrance before he’s shoving it back in. circling his hips, ass flexing and becoming apart of you, pushing him towards another climax. 
“ooo, you fuckin’ me so good.” 
“ ‘cause it’s you, ‘cause i love you.” 
with a final powerful thrust, eren buries himself deep inside you. his cock twitches within your pussy, reaching in between to pull his dick out just in time, spurting his cum directly on your backside. your scream is deafening, covering your mouth and grinding your ass back as you cum again, unsure how that’s fucking possible. your body betrayed you, acting as if you’ve never been fucked in your whole life. but, truth be told, you’ve never gotten fucked that deep, or that good. 
“fuck!” eren’s tone is deep, stroking his dick while his other hand held your ass, thrusting into his hand to draw out every ounce of cum you wanted out of him. eren nearly collapses onto you, panting heavily as he recovers from his orgasm, slowly softening but knowing he can go another round. maybe at your house this time.
he kisses your neck softly. “are you okay, love?”
you nod, heaving, mouth dry. trying to regain your vision. “y-yeah. m’good.”
before rolling off of you, he gives you another kiss before he’s climbing back into the drivers seat to pull his pants back up, fishing for a wipe inside of his center console. 
you’re laying on your stomach now, cheek resting on your arms as you catch your breath, eren smiling down at you, kissing your spine as he wipes up his mess. “so pretty, baby.” 
that makes you weaker than anything he’d just done to you, hiding your face within your arms, still looking at his gorgeous face. he loves you so much, it’s always been clear. you hate how long it’s taken you to realize that. 
“i don’t have to think on it,” you suddenly say, eren staring intensely. your lips curve into a smile. “i know i love you too. for a while now.” 
the sparkle in his eyes makes your heart absolutely melt. “for real?”
you nod. “yeah. my dream is to get you that big ass loft you want with the tall glass windows that overlook the city. decorate it how you want, be my pretty fuckin housewif—”
“shut. the. fuck. up,” eren sounds out, smushing your lips together so you wouldn’t see the redness in his face. of course you’d mock him. you giggle into his mouth, squeaking when he goes to tickle your hip, eren laughing when you turn to hit his arm. 
“seriously, eren, i hate that shit!” 
“blah, blah, blah. love you too.”
Tumblr media Tumblr media
© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡
4K notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Simon desperately eating you out after a rough day.
***
The door slammed shut, making you jump and bump against the edge of the counter that you stood at before the sink, finishing up a few stray dishes that had been left from the night before. You turned to see Simon standing there in the doorway, stiff as a goddamn board with only his eyes clocking the room to find you and locking on to your form like a beast ready to pounce.
"Pants off...now," he demanded, his voice metered and firm as he removed the mask covering his features.
"Well, hello to you too," you chuckled as you crossed your arms over your chest, but he was not in a picking mood. "What's up?"
He took a calming breath; it wasn't your fault his mood had been soured today and he didn't need to upset the only person that could turn this all around. "It's been a fuckin' day, luv. Need something to take the edge off before I send someone to the goddamn morgue. So, again, pants off…please."
This wasn't the first time you'd encountered this specific Simon before; his short, gruff sentences were an obvious indication that he has had an absolutely rotten fucking day and was completely over it already. And because this wasn't your first time you knew what he wanted…
…what he needed to let all that stress go.
Slowly you undid the button of your pants, pulling down the zipper before slipping your hands inside the waistband and sliding your jeans down off your legs. Once you removed them from around your ankles you tossed them to the side and stood there in your panties and tank top, waiting for him to give you your next instruction. Like a flash he moved in and was now on top of you, enveloping you entirely with his hulking form as it fit against your curves until your backside was being indented by the edge of the countertop.
Hot, hungry lips scrambled to aggressively connect with your own, fighting for dominance as the back and forth of the dance continued with each passing second. He let himself go to become consumed by you, unable to find a pause to take a breath as he all but devoured you whole until there was nothing left in his mind but you.
Those large hands with their thick, rough digits pawed desperately at the warm, soft skin of your bare hips, grasping as much meat between them that they could hold. All those curves, all the smooth, voluptuous flesh ready to be caressed, it was enough to drive him insane; how fucking lucky he was to have it all at his disposal now to help cure his bad day?
God you were a fucking feast and he was starving.
The connection between your lips was broken sloppily and with haste, a sting of spittle connecting your lips sparkling in the light as he pulled away. Simon hurriedly grabbed the hem of your tank top and ripped it up and over your head, letting your breasts drop and jiggle with the reverb as they were set from their cage.
"Fuck," he groaned under his breath with a sharp inhale through his teeth as he latched those lips back on to your own. "That's a sight that could do me in."
On the move he leaned his tall head lower as those raw lips began to explore further down along the curve of your neck, the line of your shoulder, and finally coming to those beautiful breasts which he immediately sucked into his mouth. The suction was intense as he used the very tip of his tongue to circle those perky rosebuds until he felt them stiffen against the roof of his mouth and your body twitch from the tingly feeling it gave off that shot up your spine.
Whatever you were doing before this felt like a distant memory as his attention grew your arousal so that your body responded in kind to him just the way he wanted. He switched sides on your chest, not wanting the first breasts twin on the other side to get left out. Simon only moved on after your hips began to grind against the bulge growing at the front of his pants.
His lips continued down the line of your body as he knelt to the ground before you, ready to put everything into worshiping that sweet pussy he loved so goddamn much. Over your sternum and stomach all the way down to your pelvis his lips caressed until they reached a roadblock covering those last few inches to his destination. That was quickly dealt with as his fingers wrapped around the waistband of your panties to slide them down your thighs, letting his lips keep going all the way to the mound of your sex; only then did he pause.
"Spread," he demanded again as his hands tapped at your inner thighs, his message being short and sweet and to the point. "I'm fuckin' endin' this day on a high note. I'm not stopping' till I'm on the goddamn verge of death by suffocation, so don't ya even try to move, luv."
You widened your stance with the guidance of his hands until there was enough space to allow his face to fit between them. Hands back on your hips, holding them as handlebars so that he could incline his face against your cunt he dove in.
Your petals were so warm, so silky, and it felt good on his mouth as he kissed that other lovely set of lips a few times, sighing as he was finally able to relax in his favorite place.
"Here we go, baby," Simon breathed into you as he extended his tongue and drug it over the slit between your legs until he had split you open, rubbing the muscle through the small accumulation of your juices to coat his tongue.
Goddamn were you sweet tonight. "Mmmm mmmm," his deep, garbled hum vibrated deliciously on your clit as the taste of you filled Simon's mouth and tingled on his taste buds.
…And then he began to move the pad of his tongue…
Over and over his tongue engaged your core. "Fuck, Simon," his name fell from your lips as his tongue began to make you writhe against his face.
"Again," he said in that gruff growl as he pulled from your for only a second.
You knew exactly what he meant for you to do. "Simon," his name was beautifully moaned from you once more as he focused all his efforts on that small bead of nerve endings at the top innermost part of your cunt.
The sound of your soft, breathy voice calling out to him made the previously enraged Lieutenant fucking crack at the seams and any trace of that rage-inducing day was suddenly completely gone; replaced by a fire to make good on his promise to desperately lap at you for as long as it took until his skin was infused with your scent and he was fully satisfied.
He moved up even tighter against your core, locking on so that even as you bucked there was no chance he would fall off until he was good and fucking ready to let you go. Shit he was pushing you to the limit of what you could take, your body aching wildly as his strike hit precise and deliberate every time until you were right at the cusp of your pleasure. God, his pace was relentless.
Overwhelmed with the intense gathering of warmth in your belly, your toes began to curl together over top of the floor as you scrambled to keep your breathing steady through the growing euphoria. How were you supposed to force yourself to intake air when all your functioning had been redirected straight to that pleasure sensor in your brain?
That thought had little time to gain traction as that feeling of impending pleasure had reached its peak.
Suddenly you were spilling violently, crying out as you tried to move him from you, but Simon was in this till the end. He kept at it until you had ridden it out to completion and finally settled, your heavy panting becoming softer and more drawn out.
You thought that that was it; the finale had been reached and all was good right? You could not have been more wrong. A wet flash of a smirk crossed his lips as he stood back up before you.
Without even a verbal warning his hands were suddenly digging into your sides as he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you out of the kitchen and into the bedroom where he sat you on the surface of the bed. Reaching with one of his hands over his shoulders he gripped the fabric of his shirt in his grasp and pulled until it came off over the top of his head, throwing the useless article to the floor before stalking towards the bed.
"On ya knees baby," he grunted as he hurriedly laid down on his back beside you further up towards the head of the bed. "Over my face. Now."
Simon pulled at your arm until you moved, his need to be smothered between your thighs causing him to rush. Grabbing on to the headboard for leverage you knelt over his head.
Your petals glistened with the sticky cum and saliva mixture he had just created as he ate his first course, but there was still plenty to get lost in and he was more than ready to dive back into it.
Greedy hands rubbed up and down the smooth skin of your thighs. "Sit," he commanded and you bent your legs until you were just above his nose, but that wasn't good enough; he didn't need you being gentle, he needed you to give him what he wanted - to let him drown in you.
"No hoverin', I said sit," he hissed as he quickly moved his hands to your hips and wrenched them down so that you had no choice but to lower yourself until your pussy was completely flush against his face like a chair.
His breath hitched not just from the instant lack of available oxygen, but because the feeling of being completely enveloped by your pussy was akin to being high; he was on cloud fucking nine just suffocating against you.
The headboard thumped against the wall from your arms shaking as full contact was made again along your core after just having come. The tears stung your eyes, your over-stimulated clit so sensitive it almost hurt. His grip on your hips didn't let up, keeping the pressure tight so that there was no chance of escape, even though you wriggled in search to ease up a little.
There was still some fight left in you; that simply wouldn't fucking do as it meant he hadn't finished the job and he was anything but thorough. Simon needed you completely spent and too exhausted to even move a goddamn inch.
"I-I can't…I can't," you pleaded with him as you squirmed over top of his stark features like anything you said would persuade him to give up.
You could hear his voice in your head, you knew what he'd say if he could talk at that moment. "Oh yes you can sweetheart. You're gonna fuckin' take it all for me."
I mean look at that big boy, he could eat and that meant all types of meals, you included most of all.
As if a nonverbal response to your mewling, his tongue picked up in speed, stroking wildly against your clit with reckless abandonment. Your fingernails were digging into the wood of the headboard, thighs vibrating against Simon's ears as each movement of that deadly appendage brought you closer and closer to your second harsh release.
"Bastard," you whined.
He gave your hips a hard squeeze. Call me what you like baby, he thought, you're still gonna fuckin' come as many times as I want.
So warm, so wet, so soft, gasping for air... He was in heaven.
Unconsciously your hips began rocking along with the thrusts of his tongue, riding him just as he worked and that familiar feeling in your stomach returned. Seconds passed…or was it minutes? Hours? Time seemed to pass differently when he was eating you out.
All of a sudden you stopped rocking, pressing your pussy as hard as you could against his face, and with a few more hard strokes you cried out as you came violently, slamming into the headboard as your thighs clamped down around Simon's ears.
"S-s-shit…" you whimpered as you ground out the last drop of your ecstasy until Simon tapped your thigh to be set free.
Legs shaking, chest heaving, eyes glazed over, cheeks flushed bright red, you fell down on the bed beside him, unable to move a muscle save for your head. Turning your face towards him you were met with a very happy and content man gazing back at you with those fiery auburn eyes, face absolutely drenched from eyebrows to chin in a thin layer of your cum.
He reached out to you, his palm cupping over the entirety of your cheek. "You did so fuckin' good for me sweetheart," he praised, thumb rubbing over the supple skin there. "So fuckin' good that I think ya deserve a break…but I don't think I'm finished quite yet."
"Oh?" you questioned back through heavy breaths, eyes wide. More?
He chuckled in that deep vibrato as he rolled over to kiss your forehead. "Well… ya see… it was a really fuckin' bad day."
You hadn't planned on dying today, but if Simon got his way he would be setting up your funeral later tonight, but there were worse ways to go…right?
16K notes · View notes
Text
The infamous, long awaited, not once, but twice deleted… simon riley x single mom reader fic is finally here:
Simon riley can’t cook for the life of him. Every time he’s back home from deployment, he’ll just survive on instant noodles and canned beer for maybe a week and then he goes back to base and gladly munches on the prepackaged food they throw at him.
Truth is, it has always been like this, and he’s never seen anything wrong with it.
Until price told him that the next op will be in 3 months and this grown ass man shivered just thinking about eating shitty frozen food for 90 days straight.
He begged price, said he’d stay and clean up the base for free, anything! He’d do anything to stay! And price told him to ‘piss off for 12 weeks before he went insane’
Cut to simon, standing in the frozen goods isle, letting out a groan as he rubbed the bridge of his crooked nose. And he angrily stomped towards the frozen bags on the shelves and dropped everything in sight into his cart, trying so hard not to puke at the mere thought of eating all of that junk. The thing is, he was so mad at that moment that if some poor soul approached him asking where the milk was, they’d get a box of frozen turkey legs shoved down their throat.
And you know, someone did approach him. And no, they got to live.
It was a tiny toddler, maybe around 5 or 6, wearing a purple tutu skirt, and she was holding a dino plushie to her chest, looking straight up at simon.
Picture this, a grown 6’2 man, muscular with tats and everything, looking down at a 5 year old girl with messy hair and yellow rain boots. They both looked so serious, none of them broke the eye contact, staring at each other with puzzled expressions.
Simon was about to continue shopping when he saw a woman running towards them, she dropped down to the ground, distressed and scared, tightly hugging the toddler. She whispered to the kid ‘why did you leave me, never do that to me ever again, mom was so scared’
And you know, he could’ve just walked away at that point. Of course, It was a heartwarming scene to behold, a mother finding their lost child, but god, simon couldn’t stop staring at the woman kneeling on the dirty in front of him, the way her eyes were glossy with tears, her cheeks slightly red from the tear stains and she was beautiful. Beautiful.
It had been years, if not decades, since the last that simon thought a human being was beautiful. He wasn’t used to the butterflies that were flying in his stomach, and he wasn’t sure how to react. So he sat down, next to her.
“Hey… t’s okay, don’t worry luv, you found her, alright?”
“I- she was holding my hand one second… and the next i couldn’t find her! I got so… scared, and she wasn’t anywhere, and i thought- i thought”
Simon wasn’t one for holding hands.
But he held her hand. He put his calloused pale hand over hers, and he couldn’t help but to let out a shaky sigh at the feeling. He was dizzy, like he had been drinking bottles of cheap booze, but he didn’t feel sick like the way the cheap booze made him feel, he felt warm.
And with that, the woman looked up at him,
“Thank you? For, for-“
“I didn’ find her luv, you did, but y’welcome anyway”
He laughed out, trying to act like there weren’t fireworks exploding in his head just by looking at her eyes.
But she chuckled, she chuckled at him!
“Sorry i couldn’t help but notice… is that like 20-ish pizzas you’ve got?”
And she pointed at his cart, which had a huge pile of frozen pizzas stacked on top of each other. She giggled.
He cursed under his breath,
“Yea, i- long story, i… can’t cook?”
“Can’t cook? Cook food?”
He put his hand on his neck, rubbing the aching muscle, as he let out another sigh shaking his head.
“That… can’t be good for you, blood pressure is the silent killer after all”
“I know, i know, i-“
“I could… teach you how to cook?”
1K notes · View notes
bi-writes · 5 months
Text
more little thoughts about curvy!sunshine!fem!reader and dark!simon (18+)
thinking about being so indifferent to his violence because it has never been directed at you. you had a bad night at the pub--an asshole tried to grab your ass in the brand new white dress you bought, with a puffy little mini skirt, and you had wanted to wear it out and get dressed up. the man had ruined your night; you just wanted to spend it with simon, drinking and spending time together, and as soon as he had his hand up your dress, and simon saw the tears in your eyes, all he could see was red.
you're sitting on the curb outside, sniffling, tears still a little damp on your face as you lick at the cone of ice cream you're holding. you click your heels against the pavement, and you look to the side when you feel a big, warm presence take a seat next to you. his shirt looks damp and sticky, and your eyes dart down to see how his boots smear blood against the ground. you smile a little through your soft tears, reaching over and sliding your arm around his. the tension in his muscles relaxes, and you lean up and kiss his cheek gently.
"did he squirm?" you ask softly as you trace his ungloved hand, running your fingers lightly over the fresh bruises there. "i know you hate it when they cry."
"didn't 'ave time t'cry," he grumbles. he leans over, kissing your forehead through the mask, holding you close. "cut his throat out before he could even think about it. and then i took his hands, luv--" you take a lick of your ice cream before you smile up at him. "didn't deserve 'em since he's had a feel 'f ya."
he lets you paint his nails. you sit on his big thigh, holding his hand up as you smooth black polish over his nail bed. you clean his cuticles and under his fingernails, giving him a nice little manicure before practicing your nail-painting skills. all he does is sit there and grumble as he watches a football game on the telly, not really paying you any mind. when you finish, you smooth lotion over his cracked knuckles and smooth some oil over his nails until they're nice and soft. when you finish, he makes you watch him stuff those fingers into your pretty pussy. he never takes his eyes off the game, but his lips twitch into the lightest smirk as he feels you writhe and squirm beside him, laid back on the couch as you wet his freshly painted nails with cum.
he never lets you cry, not really, because he fucking hates it. if you cry, he tilts your head up towards him, shoving his mask up before dragging his pink tongue up your face and ridding the pretty planes of your cheeks of any evidence. his solution to your sadness, if that doesn't work, is to put his head between your thighs and eat.
he never says no to you. wherever you want to go, he will take you. whatever you want to buy, he will buy it for you. even if it's something you technically can't have, like the vintage purse you see as you window shop with a not for sale tag on it. or the last pair of sparkly barrettes that the woman in front of you snagged first, found at the bottom of your shopping bag the next day. or the job you applied for that you knew you wouldn't get because you bombed the interview--only to receive confirmation in the middle of the night that you got the job, telling simon monday night that your new boss got mugged only a few hours after your interview!
(the bruises on his face are gnarly--and he seems to always avoid you like the plague.)
you break all his supposed boundaries in front of other people, but what they don't understand is that he has boundaries with everyone except for you. when you visit him on base, everyone tenses when you run into the rec room looking for him, slipping into the chair he sits in and taking your place on his lap. but ghost doesn't flinch as he does if others touch him. no, he just places his hand on your back to steady you. when you're out at the pub with his teammates, they stare wide-eyed as you cup his masked cheeks and kiss him all over his face--his eyes, his nose, his cheeks--but all ghost does is pat your ass soothingly and stroke along your hair gently. he stands out in crowds, so imposing and large and broad, and he ignores the stares when a pretty girl bounces into his orbit, taking his hand and pulling him along because simon, i saw this dress, but i need your help getting the zipper up--
there just isn't anyone like you. ghost feels dead, on the inside. he doesn't feel right. he knows something is so wrong inside of him. he wants to eat your glow. it's what he has loved about you since he met you. the unconditional devotion, the big heart you give him, the wet look in your eyes when he does anything for you, even when it includes the bloody stuff. even if he does the wrong thing, even if he kills the wrong man, and you know he is overreacting, you are never mad, never angry. you just kiss his scars and coo in his ear, "it's okay, you didn't know any better, you were just doing it for me, weren't you, baby?"
you give him the validation that he needs to be violent. you tell him it's okay. you aren't afraid of all the gore, of the terrible things he does, of all the things he rights with wrongs. he is quick to anger, and he finds it easy to be judge, jury, and executioner, and all you do is bat your lashes and open your legs and tell him it's okay, simon--it's okay, come here, i miss you.
you suffocate the things that scream in his ears. when it's too loud, you push him to lay down, climb up over him, put your thighs around his head and quiet the noise. you sit your pretty pussy on his mouth, and you ride his face, smoothing a hand over the balaclava that he is too busy to take off. you used to be afraid of being too heavy, of making it hard to breathe for him, but simon is a big boy, and maybe he wants to die, because you taste so sweet, and he always chubs up so easily with his hands digging into your hips and his tongue deep inside of you.
it aches, everything hurts, the world is too loud, but it isn't like this in your flat. it's just right. it's normal. it's safe. simon can be himself, and so can you, and when he is too brooding and terrifying, he looks at you, because if you're still smiling, he isn't too much of anything. and when you think you're talking too fast, when you are second-guessing the dress you want to wear, you look at him, because if he is there, nothing will ever be wrong, and no one can ever hurt you.
simon isn't a good person. you know that. he's quick to the knife. he likes to bite. he commits war crimes, and then he comes home, and no one asks him to explain himself, and no one tells him to stop what he's doing, and when he does it over and over again, all he gets is validation, medals for a job well done, and maybe you're an instigator, too, because you let him fuck you in every position whenever he comes home, a reward for bringing death to whoever was stupid enough to end up at the wrong end of his rifle.
but it's really, really hard to care. as soon as he steps through the door, dropping his duffel bag onto the floor, all of your doubts disappear. all you can do is stare at him in all his gear, swallow the drool that threatens to spill, smile--welcome home, teddy bear!
he is a bear. but you've never been on the receiving end of what scares people. if someone were to ask you what to do, you don't think you'd know what to tell them. you wonder what it is you would tell them if they begged for your help.
run away? or play dead?
3K notes · View notes
gh0stsp1d3r · 3 months
Note
Can I request a cermy berzatto x reader ? Like the reader came to the restaurant many times and carmy look pretty flustered or something. So everyone one tries to make him have a date with the reader. Hope it’s okayyyy :))
I luv this! I’m so sorry this took a while babes ): this was so buried under my drafts
Hundred times better
Tumblr media
“Jesus- okay, you work the kitchen, and- and I guess I’ll work the register for a little.” He told his cousin, who had managed to fuck something up while working the register. How does that even happen?
Carmy attempted to fix it, grunting in annoyance when it didn’t work. You walked in quietly, he didn’t even hear you, just saw you in the corner of his eyes.
He glanced up, mouth falling open to say something. But when he looked at you, his movements paused and his mouth stayed open. You gave him a sweet smile, and a blush came over his face.
He snapped out of it, nodding and stuttering. “Uh- sorry, I’m just… having a bit of…” the cash register popped open, he sighed. “Trouble. What can I get for you?”
“You’re fine! you got it or…?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, no, I’ll… fix this later.” He waved it off, looking back up at you, hands on his hips as he waited for your order. He listened, ringing it up.
“Alright, uhm… your total is 18.45.” He said, his eyes looking you up and down, his hands went over his face, giving you a small smile when he took your money.
“Thank you!” You told him, and even your voice had him weak in the knees. It was like honey, sweet.
You sat down, waiting for it to be brought out as you read through your book. You ignored the noises that came from the men.
“You fix it yet?” Richie yelled from inside the kitchen, looking at Carmy.
“Yes I f- yes!” He shouted, rolling his eyes as he entered the kitchen again. You glanced up, a small smile gracing your features. He was cute, you thought, watching him open the door, watching his muscles flex and his veins pop out his head. Angry, but cute.
You make it your life’s goal to come in often, so often that some of them learn your name. You know Richie, Sydney, Carmen, and a nice woman named Tina.
Carmen- or Carmy as most of them called him, was the one that intrigued you the most of all. He was the cute one- the one who smiled at no one but you, the one who complimented you every so often. You learned he was the owner.
And after a while, his chefs got tired of seeing Carmy angry and pissed off- more than he usually was. They quickly figured out what was wrong. He had a giant, fat, crush on you.
He didn’t want to accept it, but he knew the truth. In his heart.
He was packing up one day, cleaning up as Richie came up to him. He pat him on the back, Carmy jolted and shoved his hands off of him, glaring at him and beginning to walk towards the door.
“What?” He snapped finally, turning to Richie when he felt eyes burning in the back of his skull. They were outside, cars racing by.
“You should ask her out.”
“ What are you talking about, dude?” He furrowed an eyebrow.
“Y/n.”
Carmy rolled his eyes, letting out a huff and turning around.
“I’m serious! Think she seriously likes you. I catch her starin’ at you a lot when you’re not looking.” He told Carmy, wrapping an arm around him.
“No.” He grumbled out.
“Dude. Just ask her out. Sugar agrees.”
“I’m not asking her out while I’m working.”
“Then do it on your break or something.” He said, glancing over at his car. “But for real, tomorrow, I’m excepting to hear about a date.” He pointed, Carmy rolling his eyes and waving him off as he walked away and got into his car.
—-
The next day, it came naturally to the boy. He was sitting outside, a cigarette in between his lips, he blew out the smoke when he saw you form the corner of his eyes.
You were next to the alley, petting a little dog you have found, abandoned on the side of the road.
You didn’t even notice him until he came up.
“Uh, hey.” He spoke casually, throwing his cigarette onto the ground, smashing it with his foot. You looked up and over at him, smiling.
“Hey, Carmen. You on your break?”
“Yeah. Yeah. What uh.. who’s this little guy?”
“I don’t know. Saw him on the side of the road and I felt bad.” You told him, standing up, looking down at the dog and back at hjm.
“Oh.” He didn’t know how to respond.
“Yeah, might take him to the vet or something. But, how was your day? I was actually just about to come in.” You said with a giggle.
“It’s been going…” he told you, scratching the back of his neck and nodding. “How was yours?”
“It’s been okay.” You shrugged. “Well, I don’t wanna take up your time, and I should probably-“ you glanced down at the dog. “Get him in and stuff.”
“Yeah, yeah of course.”
You began to walk away, the dog following you before he called your name again.
“Uh- y/n?” He stuttered out.
“Yeah?” You turned around.
“Would you… wanna go out with me? Like… any time?”
You smiled at him again. “I would love that, Carmy.” You told him. And with his words, your day got a hundred times better.
687 notes · View notes
luveline · 8 months
Note
hi jade!!!! hope you’re doing well❤️
i’m not sure if you’ve done this before but i just finished reading your aaron fic where reader flinches during an argument with him and i was wondering if i could request that with spencer!? that aaron one had me MELTIN
luv you so much! 🤍🤍
thank you lovely, and thank you for your request! cw implied past domestic or childhood violence
Spencer is taller than he realises, you’d suggest. He doesn’t understand that he can be intimidating because he’s spent years of his life intimidated, and thought harmless. 
“You’re not going,” he says, towering, so, so tall where he stands in front of you. 
Your hands are sweating, but you hold your ground. “Of course I am. I’ve been her consultant for the last three years, Spencer, any mistake she’s made is one she made from my advice.” 
Your frustration colours your words, tightens them, your throat burning as you try to explain it to him. All he’s hearing is the potential danger. His eyes are squinted with it, curls falling into his eyes. He’s too busy arguing with you to brush them away. 
“You can’t walk into an active war zone. Do you even know what that’s like? You’ve never been to these places, you can’t begin to understand the danger you’d be in if you went.” He tries to take your hand. You take a step away from him. “I don’t know why you’re being like this.” 
“Like what?” you ask, immediately doubly pissed off. 
“Refusing to see that what you want to do is impossible. You wouldn’t be any help to her, you’d only be in danger.” 
“I wouldn’t be any help?” 
“You know what I mean!” His voice bounces off the walls.
“I’m not sure I do, Spence,” you say, vitriolic as he again takes a step toward you, his open hand extended. “Why don’t you explain it to me.” 
“Y/N,” he says, stepping forward again. 
You step back, not wanting your back to a wall but not wanting to be closed in either while he’s so angry, you’re so angry, your heart is beating hard between your ears. “Seriously, tell me why I’d be so fucking useless.” 
“Angel–” Spencer’s hand leaps up toward your face. 
You flinch back hard, the back of your head clipping something marginally softer and your back forced under an alcove with a huge thwacking bang, an odd cry of distress pressed to your closed lips as you sink away from him. Spencer doesn’t feel like Spencer for that split second, he’s someone else trying to shut you up, and he’s close enough to do it. 
“Y/N,” he says, riddled with heartbreak, “Y/N, it’s fine. You’re safe. It’s just me.” 
You slide down the wall to the floor. Heart pounding. Blood rushing all over, and then suddenly stopped. 
“It’s just me,” he says again, softer now. “It’s just me.”
But it isn’t just him. There’s always going to be someone else cornering you, there’s always—
A slim-fingered hand cups your jaw. Spencer’s crouching in front of you now with remorse in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t going to do anything to you.” 
“I know,” you try to say. It comes out as nothing but hot air. You clear your throat. “I know.” 
“It’s just you and me in here.” He rubs your chin with his thumb. “It’s always you and me, right?” 
You breathe out as tears well hot and heavy in your eyes, caught in all your lashes. “You put your hand up and I just thought– I felt like you were gonna hit me and I know you aren’t gonna hit me, I felt like you would.” 
“I was putting my hand up for the cabinet. I was trying to stop you from smacking your head on the cabinet,” he murmurs, his lips hardly parted. “I did. But I shouldn’t have closed you in.” 
He shows you his hand, the one he’d rested so carefully against your jaw and cheek. His knuckles are a sore red and the skin around them mottled —that had been the thwack. You’d knocked your head into his hand and he’d stopped you from getting hurt. He must’ve done it quickly, with no regard for himself. 
Spencer isn’t the kind of boy who’d hit you. 
“Oh, fuck,” you mumble to yourself, dropping your chin to your chest. Tears press hot behind your eyes. It took a few beatings for you to start anticipating them, and a crueller violence after that for it to stay. To flinch at a familiar hand? “I’m sorry.” 
“What are you sorry for?” He couldn’t speak any softer. He’s on his knees in front of you, a picture of gentleness. The annoyance he’d spoken with only minutes before is nowhere to be seen. 
For flinching, and falling apart. “I didn’t mean to…” 
“Yeah, I know. It doesn’t even matter, right? I shouldn’t have gotten so mad, and I,” —he ducks his head to meet your eyes, his voice taking on a loving dulcetness— “know you don’t like yelling, I shouldn’t raise my voice. I’m the sorry one.”
You’re relieved he isn’t mad. You honestly don’t think Spencer would ever lay his hands on you, but it wasn’t thought that made you duck away from him, it was the pure fight or flight of a remembered trauma. The memory of a raised hand and the pain of a blow to your face.
“It’s not about the shouting,” you confess. 
He rubs your arm. “Angel, I know.”
You watch his fingers rub up and down your arm, the gentle tug of your skin with each pass. “Why do you call me that?” you ask quietly. 
“Would you prefer something else?” 
“I don’t know. I don’t know how you’d sound saying anything else.” 
“You’re sort of like an angel.” He sounds earnest and shy at once. “You know? You're pretty, and sweet when you aren’t mad at me, and–” He pauses at your soft laugh. “I really didn’t mean to scare you. I’m so sorry.” 
He brings both hands to your cheeks and wipes at the dampness of dissipated tears under your eyes with his thumbs. He holds your face without hurry nor roughness nor want to straighten you out; he doesn’t encourage you to lift your head, he only meets your eyes as you are, letting you decide what you want to do. 
“Thanks, Spencer,” you say. 
He leans in to kiss your cheek, his hair brushing your nose. You hold still, but you aren’t afraid.
2K notes · View notes
indecisivemuch · 8 days
Note
hii first of all luv the username cause as a libra rising, samedt ;-; i'd like to make a request for a luke x f!reader fic pls!! um, so they're best friends, and luke decides to confess to r by giving her gifts, letters, trinkets, etc. with hints about his identity, but she doesn't know who they're from. so she asks for luke's help to find out about the identity of her secret admirer. but what if there's like a mistaken identity and she thinks it's someone from the hermes cabin (maybe chris? or one of the stoll brothers idk) and luke's just all pouty but nonchalant or something, but deep down he's like 'how do i even make her see' or something (while also second guessing that maybe he shouldn't confess it's him) like fluff with tiny angst :>
Message in a Bottle
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader
Summary: You got a secret admirer and recruited Luke to help you find out who they are...ignoring the most obvious option (Fluff, angst, best friends to lovers, happy ending)
Note: I'm so sorry for the six month hiatus. It wasn't by choice, I swear 😭. So many bad things kept happening that prevented me from writing (is this the writers curse people kept talking about?). Also, the request wanted only a sprinkle of angst, but I kinda got out of hand with it I think 😭 (sorry).
Word count: 4.4k (whoops)
You’ve always thought that too much of something is bad. Yet, ever since the day your life intertwined with Luke Castellan’s, you weren’t very sure about that anymore. 
The two of you arrived at camp around the same time, entering a friendship that felt like hitting the jackpot. Your early days together were something that you both treasured dearly. Every time you thought a certain time period would someday be reminisced as the golden days of your friendships, new things would come, and top it off. 
However, golden skies were soon evaded by clouds of pink hues. You found yourself noticing and appreciating small details you haven’t noticed before about your best friend. Initially, you acknowledged the growing feeling but decided that they better remain as footnotes in chapters of your life. However, fate’s design was different to your plans, because two years later, here you were: you looked at him almost in the same way a fool would look at the world with rose-colored glasses (but then again, maybe it was because you have learned to embrace and adore his flaws).
“Luke!”
The Hermes cabin counselor snapped his head towards the sound of your voice, eyes straying from his duty of the hour. A smile began forming on his face as you came to view, almost like he has always been programmed to do so. There was a certain spring in your steps. Moments like these made Luke feel like he was a minimalist because your happiness was somehow enough to guarantee his own. 
You situated yourself next to Luke on the ground, not minding the dirt.
“Hey now, I’m meant to be watching these kids train, don’t come over and distract me,” the Hermes cabin counselor warned, though he didn’t move his eyes away from you. He simply couldn’t.
Everything about you served as a distraction to him. From the soft smirk gracing your lips to the innocent tilting of your head. Every little detail about you was captivating and was equally capable of drawing his attention away from wherever it was meant to be. 
In fact, his attention issue around you was getting rather shameless because his friends have begun picking up on it and started teasing him for it. Personally, Luke doesn’t think it was his fault. His eyes just happen to draw to you in every room like second nature, while his mind short-circuited every time you were near. 
Maybe, and just maybe being rational and able to function properly has stopped being his forte…at least whenever you were around.
Your eyes moved to the group of kids that were only going to be at camp for the summer. From the looks of it, Luke has just assigned them to practice sword fighting in pairs. You then glanced back at your best friend, discreetly drinking in the sight of him. 
No doubt he did his fair share of demonstration before letting these kids go off on their own, because right now, his face was slightly flushed, veins evident on his forearm while the familiar orange shirt clung onto his body with glistening sweat.
You shook away the non-platonic thoughts and teased him, “Oh, come on, you wouldn’t pass up on talking to me. You adore me too much.” 
Damn right, he does. Luke could feel his cheeks heat up again.
“Fine. What are you here for, firecracker?”
“I got another gift,” you informed, presenting the bracelet in your hand. 
For the past month, you have been receiving small letters and gifts. This time it was a handmade bracelet with beads of your favorite colors, as well as charms that represented some of your hobbies and favorite things. It was clear that your anonymous admirer had put a lot of thought into such a small item. However, as always, there were no identities attached to it, leaving you clueless about the person behind these gestures.
Luke took your hand in his, eying the accessory that perfectly fitted your wrist. He started toying with the beads around your wrist that were shining in your favorite color.
The boy’s gaze flicked from the object to you, catching your soft and warm look. Gods, if you kept looking at him like that, he might just actually stop thinking logically. He could practically feel a confession lingering behind his lips, threatening to spew the second his ropes of restraint died.
“Anyway, I came here with an idea,” you broke the silence. “What if I try to find out who this person is? I mean, some of these gifts are quite specific. They seem to know my favorite color, flowers, and things I like. Surely, it wouldn’t be that hard to narrow it down and figure it out?”
Something shifted in your best friend’s behavior and you could feel it. There was a slight flustering look on Luke’s face as he avoided eye contact with you. It was rather strange to see the Hermes cabin counselor so fidgety. Luke has always been confident and composed, and you’d often be the one to humble down his playful cocky remarks. Half-way through looking at his behavior, you began speaking:
“You…”
Luke could feel the blood draining from his face at your facial expression, his face paling despite how flushed he was seconds ago from demonstrating sword fighting. The boy tried to regain his composure, though his attempt at seeming nonchalant failed as you touched his arm. Did you—
“You can be my inside man, talk to these guys to see if they’d slip up or something like that.” 
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” Luke hastily replied, clearing his throat.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did that come across as a suggestion? I hate to break it to you but being best friends means you sorta have to participate in my schemes,” your lips curled as Luke grunted at your words. 
“Yeah, but—”
“Luke, please…it’ll be fun,” he almost scoffed at your words and unconvincing argument. Clearly, the two of you had different definitions of fun. Just as he opened his mouth to reject your idea again, his eyes caught yours. You were looking at him in such an eager and heart-warming gaze that it made him forget what he was intending to say.
Ah, there was no denying anymore. Being rational and able to function properly has truly stopped being his forte.
“Fine,” Luke uttered, the word pricking his tongue as regret started kicking in as he accepted being your accomplice. This decision could only come back to bite him in the ass. He watched as you quickly celebrated his lack of restraint.
“Ah, you gave in quite quickly,” you jabbed.
“Shut up.”
Oh, you were going to be the death of him.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Two days have passed since you got Luke to agree to help you find your secret admirer. Though, the boy must say, the last forty eight hours have been slightly comedic for him, watching you trying to track down your secret admirer…
While the real sender of those gifts was right beside you, nodding along to your every word. 
Luke’s mind trailed to the origin of this “secret admirer” idea. He started it as a way to abate the urge of straight-up blurting out how love-struck he was with his own best friend, while also testing out the waters before finally confessing his feelings for you. 
Though it was slightly amusing how the idea led him to where he was right at that moment. The Hermes cabin counselor zoned out as he pretended to speak to another boy you thought was behind those sweet gifts and letters. 
Luke used to have those feelings under rein, but self-repression only caused it to grow exponentially. Initially, the Hermes cabin counselor dismissed those beyond friendly thoughts, thinking they would eventually fizzle away. However, against his predictions, this fondness towards you became a sort of companion to him for three long years. 
Not only that, years of excessively burying these feelings six feet underground also came back to bite him in the ass because instead of having his feelings under control, they now have the upper hand. 
Sometimes he felt like a puppet, while his feelings plucked the strings. His facial expressions were forever cursed to be sculpted in raw yearning whenever around you, having no choice over how he reacts to everything related to you.
But it didn’t matter, because he was going to finally confess soon.
Luke almost burst out laughing at the way you were standing in anticipation, waiting for his intel on the most recent candidate. It was entertaining, to say the least, pretending to engage in investigative conversation before heading back to you, shaking his head in feigned disappointment. 
However, it didn’t take long before the Hermes cabin counselor started feeling sour.
Just as he made it back to your side, he watched as you started talking again, already discussing the next guy you thought might have done these things that Luke himself came up with. He eyed your in sync footsteps with a heavy heart. Despite the matching movement, he somehow still felt eternally behind. Luke was so close, yet so far away, and never quite able to grasp onto your ever moving attention. 
Did you not consider him as an option at all? Did you truly not see him as anything other than a good friend? It started stinging him knowing you were considering all these other guys as potential candidates — the faces that now haunt him in his sleep, poisoning his mind with an acidic jealousy that was eating away his common senses and fueling immoral thoughts. 
Soon enough, that same jealousy seared his mind with this overwhelming self-doubt. Luke’s foot started feeling cold at the thought of confessing. Gods, he never thought the same security behind anonymity would now make him feel desperate to be seen by you. 
“Maybe I should give up,” you concluded, mindlessly staring ahead. Your attention elsewhere gave Clarisse and Chris an opportunity to send each other knowing looks. The two have been watching you run around in circles on a goose hunt, not knowing to look right behind at the sulking figure that was trailing after you. 
Your distracted state also meant you didn’t notice the moping human situated beside you. However, hearing your declaration of ending your chase, Luke saw a window of opportunity. Maybe now was finally the time to be truthful. After all, if he doesn’t tell you, then how will you know and see him? Luke’s momentary motivation carried him through waves of dejection.
“Y/N, I need to tell you something,” Luke blurted out without much more thought or preparation, and his tone made you fully turn to him. Just as words finally formed and the boy opened his mouth to tell you—
“Hey Y/N, can I talk to you privately?” Somebody interrupted. Your eyes didn’t leave Luke immediately, but when you saw your best friend’s momentum had faltered, you turned to the stranger. It was another Hermes boy, somebody who you’ve seen around. You politely agreed and left with him. 
“So, I heard you’ve been looking for the person who’s been giving you anonymous gifts. And well, it’s your lucky day, 'cause…” the boy stared you up and down while you subconsciously took a small step back when he leaned forward. “...I’ve decided to come forward and reveal myself.”
“Okay…well, prove it” you squinted. Though your skepticism didn’t make the Hermes boy in front of you falter. Clearly, he expected this.
“The first thing you were given was a note, and…the two most recent gifts were a cassette tape and a bracelet — which was made from beads of your favorite color and charms like…” you zoned out as the boy started listing out some of your favorite activities that were indeed the charms on your bracelet. You fiddled with the bracelet that you had purposefully hidden out of his view right behind your back.
There was a pinch in your heart that signaled the last bit of hope dying. 
Oh…so Luke really wasn’t your secret admirer.
You internally scoffed at yourself. You should have known right after he said yes to helping you out with finding your secret admirer — which was originally an idea used as bait to determine if Luke was the sender or not, because if it was really him then he wouldn’t have agreed to help you out with this. However, not only did your best friend agree without much convincing from you, but he had seemed so nonchalant and unaffected as you named all these boys you wanted him to talk to. 
Perhaps this secret admirer thing was something good. Somebody has shown interest and their actions have been nothing but sweet. Those letters contained words that were eternally bound to your memories, even altering the way you view yourself for the better. Maybe you could get to know this person and move on from hopelessly crushing on your best friend.  
Halfway through, you realize you were so engulfed in your thoughts that you have zoned out to half of the things the Hermes boy was saying, and merely caught onto the last bit of his speech:
“...thinking maybe we could go on a date and get to know each other more tonight?”
Your stomach churned again, yet you nodded your head.
Move on. Move on. Move on. Move on. 
Your friends gave you questioning looks when you got back to where they were, clearly curious about what you were pulled away for.
“So…that was my secret admirer, and I’m going on a date with him tonight,” you hoped you sounded more enthusiastic than you were feeling. You tried convincing yourself at least it was good knowing definitely how your best friend actually felt about you. Quickly sitting down, you kept your eyes on Clarisse, knowing if you even looked over at Luke, he’d be able to tell straight away that something was wrong.
Your lack of focus also meant you didn’t think much of the quiet murmur from your best friend: “Sorry, I just remember I need to do something.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time. It was now the afternoon and you just finished getting ready for your date. As you were leaving, you spotted a note at the foot of your cabin. Seeing your name written on the paper, you picked it up while eying it peculiarly.
“You could be the one that I love, 
I could be the one that you dream of,
Message in a bottle is all I can do, 
Standing here hoping it gets to you.”
Your gut feeling stirred, hitting you with waves of higher certainty over suspicions you have previously had and denied.
Those lyrics were directly associated with a memory from summer two years ago. 
Luke and you were sitting by the campfire when he asked what your favorite song was. You told him the name and mentioned you hadn’t listened to it in a while because using technology devices with signals were dangerous for Demigods. The conversation slipped your mind but clearly loitered in your best friend’s mind, because two months later while on your way back to camp from your quest together, he gifted you a tape player along with a cassette of said song along with others that you liked.
You blinked away the image of you leaning on Luke’s shoulder while the two of you listened to the song together on the train back to camp.
You re-read the note again while shaking your head. Perhaps it was a coincidence. Perhaps, that Hermes boy knew the song and it was also one of his favorites. Perhaps—
Your hand started trembling around the paper. Your eyes landed on one small detail in the note: a particular handwriting choice. The rest of it matched with previous notes, but there was one singular scribbling feature you’ve never seen used before. 
Everything came crashing down and your internal eternal cycle of excuses and denial shattered.
You ran. It didn’t matter that it was raining and your attire was getting soaked. It didn’t matter at all because you were frustrated and confused. In other instances, you would have been elated at the possibility of mutual affection, but in that moment, exasperation blinded you from sensibility. 
If what you have concluded was true, then why on Earth would he allow you to go on a date with a person who stole credit for things they didn’t do? This whole time, he made you feel like a fool — for waiting that long and having hope after all that time; for asking the person you were looking for to hunt them down with you; for sulking despite having what you thought was a good opportunity to come along; for borderline going on a date with an imposter; and for not seeing it all along that it was him. 
“It’s you, isn’t it?” you called out.
Despite the rain, you could see your best friend’s figure stiffened before turning around to face you. The boy stood with his hands behind his back, not yet daring to look at you. 
“The “th”. You connected the cross in the ‘t’ directly to the ‘h’,” you presented the note in your hand, pointing specifically at the slip up that Luke had made in the latest note, not caring of the raindrops that were hitting the paper. “It’s how I write it, and you started writing it the same way a year after we got to know each other because you liked the way it looked,” you pressed further.
The expression on Luke’s face painted your theory into the truth of the situation. You felt your hand slightly shaking at the revelation.
“Why? You left anonymous gifts and notes and watched me put on this hunt — which by the way, was for you. And didn’t even say anything when a guy lied and said he was my secret admirer? Is this one big cruel prank?”
“No—”
“Oh! Well then, surely at one point in this whole thing, you felt like you should just tell me?” 
“I was going to.”
“Then where were you when I was just about to head out with that fraud? Maybe if you really liked me and really cared for me, like all those damn notes say, you would have fought for m—”
“I did,” Luke finally raised his voice, his face briefly hardened in an attempt to convey his desperation. His chest heaved, and the way it did almost made you think the anger radiating off every inch of his skin right then was directed towards you. But it wasn’t, and he knew you knew. 
“I confronted him right after he claimed that he was the one who gave you all those things.” 
Invisible ivies rooted your foot to the ground. You gulped, trying to digest the information you were given. However, it finally sunk in when Luke’s hands appeared from behind his back. It was then that you could see the bandage wrapped around his knuckles. Your breath hiccuped in both flattery and worry at the implication of what he had done. The darkness behind those deep hazel-brown orbs reflected a certain side of your best friend that you hadn’t seen before. Although, part of you felt like you wouldn’t mind it.
It made Luke’s blood boil knowing what he dedicated to you from the bottom of his heart was spoiled by ill intentions. Luke should have known better than to carelessly write all the letters and craft those gifts right on his bunk bed, rather than discreetly. 
Once again, the Hermes cabin counselor was pulled back to memories from an hour ago. The way the other boy shot remarks at Luke’s lack of precautions, boasting his wrong-doings like someone incapable of having a guilty conscience. Luke's jaw tightened as the image of the sly smirk on the other Hermes boy's face flashed in his mind, but a wave of satisfaction ran through him as he recalled how quickly that smirk was wiped away by his own fist.
They might be brothers by a fraction, but blood or not, that boy was dead to Luke the second he tried tricking you.
“And no, I wouldn’t have let you go out with a fraudster. Never,” Luke’s eyes softened. “And in case it’s not implied enough: I like you…a lot. I was going to confess but then this guy came along lying,” Luke could feel that tremor returning once more to his fist. He hated that something he built, from scratch, on the foundation of sincerity was momentarily tainted by the hands of a spineless liar. Not only that, he hated witnessing somebody so dear to him getting deceived in such a tasteless manner.
“I also…didn’t want to get hurt. It was starting to seem like you would ever consider me as more than just a friend with the way you were listing out all these other guys. So for a bit there I was considering just keeping quiet…forever” he confessed, eyes now straying away from you and down to his shoes.
You observed your best friend through a new perspective. So your initial suspicions were true. You had thought it was him because all the things you have received hinted to somebody who knew you so well, and who else at camp but Luke knew this many things about you. But ultimately, another part of you — the proclaimed “logical” side — has hyper-analyzed every split second you two have shared and deemed that Luke has not given any true signs of interest in you beyond as a friend. Thus, you dismissed the thought of Luke being your secret admirer.
You know now to trust your gut feelings more.
“Oh, Luke Castellan, you dumb ass…” you spoke softly underneath your breath, but you knew he heard you perfectly clearly from the way he slightly peered up. Your heart almost shattered at the dejected look on your best friend’s face and the thought of him burying his feelings eternally. You sure as hell would not allow that to be this timeline.
“I’ve liked you ever since the day you went out of your way and gave me that first cassette tape,” the marveled look on Luke’s face over your confession made you continue, “I guess I should have known it was you…cause gift giving has always been your love language.” It seemed like the boy was too stunned and struck frozen. However, his shell-shock state didn’t last long, because soon, your best friend’s gaze reverted back to the way he has always looked at you, only slightly more intense.
Your eyes fluttered at the sight of Luke Castellan in front of you at that moment. You were finally able to see the effect you’ve always had on him. The way his lips hung slightly agape, eyes dilated in such a way you were no longer able to see their usual color anymore, chest slightly heaving despite lack of physical reasons for such a reaction. You almost wanted to hit yourself for being such a fool and not spotting these details sooner. 
“Now, Castellan…you have two options,” you stepped closer to him, leaving an appropriate amount of personal space in between. “You either kiss me or—”
Luke grabbed your wrist with his uninjured hand and pulled you in. The same hand-guided your arms around his neck while also effectively eliminating the remaining distance between you two. 
Without hesitation, he kissed you.
Likewise, you returned the action without a second thought. You frankly didn’t care about the rain that was soaking the both of you. Kissing Luke felt like such a natural act that it felt simply like diving home. The way he held you made you feel like you were a national treasure he was so afraid of losing. Gods, you don’t think you mind doing this ever so often.
Though, there was a certain urgency in the way Luke kissed you, as if afraid you’d either vanish or you’d change your mind. You pressed your lips harder against his, hoping he’d understand you didn’t intend on leaving or having a change of heart.
A grunt escaped his throat as you kissed him harder. Oh, Luke Castellan already knew he was in immense trouble. He knew almost immediately that the concerning number of thoughts he had about you each day would only increase tenfold from this day on. He wondered if you could taste all of his unspoken words. If kissing you felt like this, he might as well sign away his heart, body, and mind to you. In fact, he’d sign anything you put in front of him without even considering the fine prints. 
Luke slowly backed you against a tree, giving you a bit of support to lean against whilst shielding the both of you from the heavy rain. He smiled into the kiss as you hummed at his action, feeling it echo against his lips. His heart tugged, almost leaping out of his chest when your hands made their way to both sides of his face, cupping it intently like holding something yours. Yours. Fuck, he loved the sound of that. 
You were the first to break the kiss. The both of you gasped for air while maintaining eye contact. The close-up view of his intense gaze drove your cheeks rosy. You could not help but admire the way his locks of wet curly hair clung onto his forehead, while raindrops fell from his face, some following the length of his eyelashes before falling — Oh, the way he glanced down at your lips at that second made you feel almost like you had the power to convince him into anything at the moment. 
“You’re my best friend…” he broke the silence.
“Mhm.”
“...but what if I want you to be more than that?”
“I can be both,” Luke’s lips broke out into a smile, and you mirrored his facial expression. He leaned his forehead against yours whilst softly rubbing his thumb soothingly against your waist.
“I’m not against that.” 
As a larger grin broke out on your lips, Luke’s eyes further softened. He realized right there and then that anything you wanted, he would not be against it. A breath of relief quietly escaped beneath Luke’s breath. He could not wait for whatever was in store for the both of you in the future.
Good thing his messages in a bottle did get to you.
-------------------------
masterlist
join my Luke Castellan taglist (or to remove yourself from)
403 notes · View notes
kombuuuu · 1 year
Note
HEYY!!! Can you maybe write a fic or small drabble where fem!reader wants hobie to hang upside down so they can ‘spider man kiss’.
(also i luv the way you write hobie :P)
Spider Kisses
Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader
Tumblr media
“What’re you— oh!”
small thingyyyyy, added a little twist tho C:
“Hobie?” Your voice rang throughout the empty alleyway behind your apartment, light disappearing behind the building wall your lover was currently — decorating.
“Wh— Oh! [Name], babe, come look a’ this.”
You partner turned to you, currently hanging from a suspended pole connecting one building to another.
Webs wrapped around his ankles to keep him hanging upside-down. Left hand holding a green can of spray paint, and right holding a paint ridden cloth.
His shirt was riding up (down?) due to gravity, the small peak of skin covered in different paint streaks that matched the tones the wall was now bearing.
“what’re you doing up there?”
He shook the van again, spraying a little detail onto the mural, then wiping a line through the fresh paint to reveal the colour underneath.
“‘M paintin’, love.”
He turned to you, synthetic eyes wide and emoted.
“C’mere, come try.”
He shook the cloth in a ‘come hither’ motion, paint flecks landing on his shirt. You approached him happily, getting close to his mask-clad face.
“Don’ get too close t’ the fumes now, babe.” You rolled your eyes at his playful tone, turning back towards the art to get your first real look at it.
A low whistle came from behind you, “Nice view.”
“Shut it, bug.”
“Arachnid.”
“Whatever.”
You felt Hobie grab his web, releasing his ankles and dropping down by one arm. His feet hurting the ground with a small scuff.
Taking the first good look at his creation, you noticed how you were the centre of it. A dazzling smile with your features painted in a light you’d never known. He’d made you feel so beautiful.
The colours behind you complimented the shades of your hair and strokes of abstract making your features evermore admirable.
“Jesus, Hobie — this is gorgeous.”
“All you, babe.”
He crowded up behind you, letting his slender hands carter’s the skin along your waist and stomach. His muffled voice dropped low to your ear. “Like this, doll.” His right hand travelled up your arm, sliding over yours and disconnecting to wipe at the fresh paint.
His left hand stayed put against your abdomen, squeezing unconsciously. He handed you the cloth, watching your fingers wrap around the fabric and bringing his hand back to your upper arm, rubbing along your skin in a soothing matter.
“Now drag it along there, yeah? Right where it’s still wet.”
You snorted at the innuendo. Hobie scoffing at your childish thoughts and softly pinching your skin.
“Oh, grow up.”
You refocused, dragging your hand along the shade of purple and blue. Streaking them together and revealing the pink underneath.
“Good, you’re a natural at this point.”
You laughed lightly, turning your head towards his.
“It was one stroke, Hobes.”
He winked, a devilish smirk rising his smile lines. “All it takes wit’ you, ain’t it?”
“Oh my god, you’re crude.”
“Nah baby, ‘m honest ‘s all.”
You brought your hand back towards you looking up at the painting again. "Finishing touches."
You gave him a quick, curious "hmm?", before you felt the cloth leave your hands too fast for you to realise. The "thwip" of his webs alerting you of his methods — right as the sound registered in your head, he had shot another back onto the aforementioned pipe, and reached to swipe at the paint around your hair, melting it into you and making you stand out stark against the cohesive colours. "Looks good, dun' it babe?"
"Uhuh."
He spared you a glance, smiling under his mask at the distracted sound of your voice, when he caught you watching him, and not his painting — he could excuse it.
A thought had breached your head, one that had been popping up ever since you had gone to dimension 1806 with him.
"Hobie, I'm not a spider person! I can't leave!"
"But I made you a watch?" "
Yes— thank you, I love it. But also that's not the point."
"But the watch.."
"Fuck, fine. Whatever. Don't use that tone on me again."
"Say it's for science."
"Fuck science."
That day you had found something.. intriguing. A comic. With a rather interesting cover design. Spiderman — not yours — plastered on the front, upside down, with his mask folded up and kissing Mary Jane. It was probably the most romantic thing you'd ever seen. And now you had the chance.
"Baby."
Hobie stopped wiping the excess paint, giving you his full attention. "Yeah doll, what's 'e matter?"
"Can you— do the thing.. you were doing before?"
He gave you a quizzical look, eyes in his mask squinting. "Painting? I'm almost done, sweethear'. Now I just got'a wipe way the—,"
"No.. no, the uhh.. Thing."
"Babe, ya' gon' have ta' be a bit more specific."
"The— upside down thing."
He snorted. Still hanging from his left hand. "Wh— yeah? I can do it, but—,"
"Don't question my decisions, Hobes."
"God damn, sweethear', speak t' me like 'at more often."
You laughed just as he did, glee falling from your lips as you shifted closer to him. He twisted his body to raise his legs above himself, wrapping the webs around his ankles once more.
"Now what—"
You brought your hands up to his spandex covered cheeks, tracing the lines of his cheekbones under the soft skin of your fingers. Tracing your hands higher, you toyed with the lip of his mask. Exposing the skin of his neck and watching his Adams apple bob out of nerve. "Can I?"
"Whatever you want, Luv."
You rolled the mask just past his nose, hooking it over his bridge, surprising him. He opened his mouth to question why you hadn't taken the whole thing off, before your lips stopped him.
He melted into you, your hands stroking over his cheeks and chin.
It was awkward trying to find your position at first, but you both quickly adapted, his hands finding the belt loops of your jeans and tugging you closer to him. You smiled into the kiss and he followed, laughing about how this was the motive to your request.
Your lips disconnected and he grinned like a fool.
"Tha's why?"
"Oh, shut. It was romantic."
He chuckled again, pulling you in for another kiss.
"Never said otherwise, pretty thing."
phone still broken , just like my heart hastag KIILL ME BOW
that was sarcasm but YIPEEEE HOBIEEEE!!!!!
3K notes · View notes
j-jinxee · 8 months
Text
ALASTOR NSFW HC'S
Tumblr media
TYPE - Alastor x Reader
WARNINGS - mentions of restraint, period blood, oral, cannibalism, hair pulling, chains, and demons.
----------------------------------------------------
- Let's start off by acknowledging the fact that Alastor is a literal cannibal.
- Finds his pleasure, in pleasuring you. Not one to enjoy receiving any sort of it, apart from the off times he's in full control over your actions.
- He most likely owns your soul, so for those off times where he does want his own raw pleasure, he will restrain you to your limit.
- Only a fan of head if he's giving it. He feels vulnerable and awkward if he's the one recieving. So for him, being able to taste your core while you're shaking above him and pulling at his hair, is the best pleasure he could receive.
- Being skilled with his tongue means making you cum atleast four times before he gets to his first climax. Obviously since he's not recieving any "real pleasure", it takes longer for his to reach him, all while you're just squeezing his head in between your thighs, screaming that it's too much.
- If you say something to piss him off while you're alone, you'll immediately be pulled to the ground by the chain 'round your neck.
"crawl"
- As you arrive in front of him, still on your knees, he'll hold your face with his right hand, the chain still held tightly in his left. His nails slightly dig into the side of your face, while slowly moving his thumb into your mouth, deeper, pushing your tongue down, deeper, deeper...
- Don't get me wrong, yes he's very animalistic, but he's also such a gentleman.
- An aftercare GOD, but that's a topic for another day.
- Definitely not fazed by period blood, he will have no issue with eating you out while you're bleeding. He actually enjoys it even more since he's a cannibal, the blood riles him up to the point he'd end up cumming before you.
- He's not one to moan or talk, but you can definitely hear his breath stuttering, and some slight deep groaning here and there.
- He'll only talk if others are listening, like when he's on the air. "Oh darling, let these filthy little sinners hear your desperate moans, I'm sure it'll make their day ~
----------------------------------------------------
It's good to be back on the air! Cya, luv ya.
1K notes · View notes
homeofthelonelywriter · 4 months
Text
Night Sky
(A/N) Drunk Simon...I love him.
Pairing: Simon x Reader (no Y/N)
Warning: mentions of alcohol, Simon being drunk and freaking adorable
Synopsis: A rare moment that the Reader and Simon just get to enjoy.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
A knock woke you from your slumber on the living room couch. You looked around, confused about where you were and how you’d woken up. The TV was still running in the background as you grabbed your phone to check the time. A bright 11:21 blinded you as another knock echoed through the house.
“Coming. Coming!”
You stumbled to your feet and slowly made your way to the front door while trying to rub the sleep from your eyes. Who the hell would knock on your door so late? You hesitated for a second, wondering if you maybe should grab your husband’s gun in case it was not just the neighbor who had locked himself out again. But now you were already standing before the front door, you might as well open it.
“Wha-?”
The word died on your tongue as you came face to face with Price. A sight that you’d always been afraid of and for a moment panic gripped your heart. But then you remembered, they had gone to a pub earlier that night. They hadn’t just come back from a mission, so there was no way something had happened to Simon. Right?
“Where is he?”
Price chuckled and stepped to the side so you could see what was going on behind him. There was your husband, lying in the grass with Soap and Gaz standing over him. He was pointing at the night sky, mumbling something incoherent. It was clear that he was wasted. In no other state would you find Simon just lying on the ground.
“Do I want to know what happened?”
Price shook his head, a bright smile on his face.
“No, but he is all yours now, sweetheart.”
You smiled yourself as you shook your head in slight disbelief before you grabbed your keys and walked outside, closing the door behind you. As you ventured closer, both Gaz and Soap looked up and smiled at you.
“Thanks for bringing him home, boys.”
They all nodded and bid their goodbyes before leaving. As soon as they were gone, you laid down next to Simon and grabbed one of his hands, interlacing your fingers. That got his attention and he looked at you, his eyes widening once he recognized you.
“Luv.”
He sounded so excited as he slurred the word, making you chuckle and roll over to face him properly.
“Hi, Si.”
He grinned, his usual mask gone, an unusual sight outside the house. He too rolled over and quickly wrapped both arms around your waist, before rolling back onto his back. A surprised squeak escaped your lips before you started to giggle as you were now lying on top of your husband.
You looked at your husband as he gazed back at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. A grin spread on your lips as you held eye contact.
“Hi.”
It was only a whisper, but Simon’s ears easily picked it up.
“Hi.”
You smiled at him, before lowering your head against his chest, a content sigh leaving your lips. His arms around you tightened and for some time all you two did was lay there and cuddle underneath the night sky.
Moments like these were rare with Simon. His trauma often prevented him from enjoying the simple things in life, so you were set to enjoy it even more. But soon the cold started to seep through the small amount of clothes you were wearing and shivers started to run through your body.
“Si? Can we go inside? I’m cold.”
His head snapped to look at you and while his eyes still held adoration, they now looked determined. For what exactly, you didn’t know. With a nod, he quickly scrambled to his feet while still holding onto you. He expertly shifted you, so that he was carrying you bridal style into the house, opening the door and kicking it shut behind himself.
You giggled as he quickly went up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Within a few seconds, you were in your bedroom and Simon gently sat you down on the edge of the bed, before he started to strip. If he weren’t drunk you wouldn’t have been able to not enjoy the show. But now you were rather concerned since he seemed to get stuck with every piece of clothing.
With a light chuckle, you got to your feet and gently helped your man out of his clothes. Once he was only wearing his boxers, you led him to his side of the bed and told him to lie down, while you quickly grabbed some water and pain meds for him. By the time you returned to the room, he was already softly snoring, sleeping peacefully. The sight painted a smile on your lips and you couldn’t help but just stand there and look at him for a few moments.
Once you were sure you could never forget that view, you laid down next to him, cuddling up against the behemoth of a man. And with a content smile on your lips, you fell asleep next to the love of your life.
Tumblr media
Please consider reblogging and following me! It helps a lot!
Call of Duty - Masterlist
Master-Masterlist
877 notes · View notes
pretty-little-mind33 · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
Tangerine x wife!fem!reader
Summary: When your sister's new mystery fiancé is someone you know from university, your husband isn't very happy.
Genre: fluff and hurt and comfort
Warnings: protective!Tangerine, reader is pregnant, mentions of stalking, knife/gun wounds, swearing, suggestive ending.
~ thank you to the anon who requesting this! ~
TANGERINE MASTERLIST
"Ah," you groan, burning yourself on the saucer as you transfer the pasta into the strainer over the sink. Your husband, who'd just finished setting the table to his liking, peeks his head inside the kitchen. 
"You ok, luv?" he asks, coming over and guiding your hand to the faucet where he turns on the cool water, "All better, yeah?" he asks, almost mocking in the kindest way and he kisses the crown of your head as the water runs over your wounded palm. 
"My poor girl," Tangerine is really laying it on thick now as he kisses behind your ear. "D'ya need me to finish up here?"
You turn, looking up at him, and nod, "Would you? They're coming over at nine and I haven't even showered or changed—and the warmth is making me feel all woozy." You emphasize this point by fanning at your face with your wet hand, water droplets cooling your skin, and Tangerine cups his hand over your stomach. 
"'Course my darlin'. What an awful husband I am havin' ya cook while you're pregnant. I'm sorry, my luv," he says genuinely, ignoring your attempt to remind him you'd wanted to make the meal since it's your sister's favorite, as he practically shoos you away. 
"I'll call ya down when they've arrived, hm?" 
You nod, smiling as you make your way up the stairs to shower and change for dinner.
As the oldest, you've always been protective over your sister. Andy had this tendency to jump into situations impulsively and when she'd called and gushed over her new fiancé, you had been slightly concerned for her considering she'd gotten engaged within just four months of meeting him. 
So, with Tangerine's approval, you had invited them both over for dinner. 
Once you finish adjusting your dress in the mirror, you make your way downstairs and smile at the familiar sound of Andy's rambling.
The room smells like the spaghetti you'd started and Tangerine had finished, and you see that he has poured both Andy and her fiancé a glass of wine.
He hasn't poured one for himself considering he doesn't drink when you don't. 
Seeing you, Andy instantly squeals and rushes up to pull you into her arms. "Oh my, just look at you," Andy exclaims and looks at your dress, which shows your baby bump, "You been taking good care of my darling sister?" She looks at Tangerine with a light-hearted frown and points at him accusingly. 
"Mmhm, only the best for my darlin'," Tangerine smirks and moves closer so he can kiss your cheek. You feel all warm and fuzzy inside as you smile at your husband. You're too preoccupied with your happiness to fully hear Andy introduce her new fiancé until Tangerine nudges your shoulder and you look up at your sister's future husband. 
You're happy you hadn't been holding a wine glass because it would have fallen onto the ground instantly.
"This is Oliver," Andy says, hugging him closely as she draws hearts on his chest. The man is tall and slim and he has dusty blond hair. His eyes, which the blue reminds you of Tangerine's, are piercing into yours and you shudder. 
You know him. 
Tangerine can see your discomfort and he squeezes your hand. He doesn't mention it. He doesn't want to make a scene and he's distracted by Oliver shaking his hand. "Hi," Oliver then moves his hand to you and he continues to stare. You feel sick but you know you have to shake his hand anyway.
"Hi," you answer and strain a smile.
Andy jumps in immediately with a new topic of conversation, happily introducing the man she loves to you and Tangerine. You feel like you're underwater as you stare at Oliver and all those memories; of the bundles of flowers and the endless phone calls swarm and drown you. 
Tangerine's hand in yours is the only thing now keeping you above water.  
"Excuse me," you say early into dinner as Tangerine finishes serving everyone some pasta. You've barely sat down but you suddenly feel sick to your stomach so you rush to the bathroom.
After only a moment, you hear your husband's worried voice from behind the bathroom door. 
"My luv, are you alright in there? Is everything okay?" he calls and raps on the door with his knuckles. 
You let him in instantly, your eyes round as you pull him inside the bathroom. Tangerine stumbles inside and looks you up and down with confusion. 
"The baby's okay," you reassure him breathlessly and his expression softens.
"I didn't ask if the baby was okay," he says gently but places his hand on your stomach as a way to show he's grateful the baby is okay, "I asked if you were okay, my heart." 
You look up at him, holding in your frustrated tears. "I know Oliver," you whisper. 
Tangerine frowns but he understands what you mean. "You do?" 
You nod and start to explain. "Yeah, I know him from university. We were classmates freshman year and then—it became weird. Remember that stalker I had? It's him. He was obsessed with me and would ask me out numerous times and when he finally asked for my number, he wouldn't stop calling and following me around. The university got involved and he left junior year. I haven't heard or seen him since but Tan, I know it's him. I just know," you sound scared and your husband hates the sound.
"Sweetheart," he says and pulls you in closer, his hands cupping your cheeks. "I believe you, darlin'. You wouldn't lie about something like this. What do you need me to do? Should I kick him out–or—"
"No!" you lean your head on Tangerine's chest, sighing as you clutch at his shirt, "Andy clearly loves him. I can't ruin this for her."
Tangerine's hand rests against the back of your head, his thumb soothing in your hair. "But, if he makes you uncomfortable—"
You interrupt him, "I can deal with one dinner and then I'll tell Andy about all this privately. It has to be her decision, okay?"
"I do not want your stalker as our brother-in-law, Y/n," Tangerine says sternly. 
"It's not about us! It's about Andy and– please can you pretend I didn't tell you anything tonight?" you say, "And I'll pretend I don't remember him."
Tangerine can see the determination in your eyes. He wants to protest and tell you you don't have to go through with this dinner but he can tell you want to protect your sister more than yourself and he knows he has to respect that.
So, he puts on his best fake smile as you both return to the table. Tangerine hates pretending like this, especially because now he's overanalyzing every look Oliver is sending you. His blood boils even more when Olicer asks you, 
"How far along are you?"
How dare that bastard ask about his baby?  
You take a bite from your fork and strain a smile, nudging Tangerine's calf to convince him to stay quiet as you answer the question. "Almost six months now," you say and Oliver uses this as an opportunity to look you up and down which makes you visibly tense. 
"Yeah, my darlin' has been a real trouper," Tangerine fakes a laugh at Oliver's question and rolls up his sleeves, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as he presses a kiss to your cheek. You know what he's doing instantly because you've seen the number of bullet wounds grazes and knife slashes he has on his forearms, as well as the tattoos that cover his skin. 
He's intimidating Oliver and by the look on the poor man's face, it's working. 
"And she has me to help 'er, right, luv?" He smiles and tilts his head in Oliver's direction, drumming his hand on the table as he brings attention to the scars there and the amount of rings he's wearing—especially his wedding band.   
Oliver stares at you less after that. 
As you say your goodbyes to Andy, you tell her you'll call her later, and then smile politely at Oliver—who doesn't say much to you or Tangerine and once your front door is shut you turn around and narrow your eyes at your husband. 
"I saw what you did," you say and Tangerine raises his arms in mock confusion. He winks and then starts to clear the table. You follow him, trying to do the same but he sends you a look and you retaliate, instead leaning against the kitchen counter as you watch him.
 "You didn't need to show him your scars like that. Andy doesn't know what you do for a living, remember?" you sigh. 
Tangerine hums, "I wasn't showing them to her," he shrugs and loads up the dishes into the dishwasher. 
"I wanted that bastard to know what I would do to him if he even considered hurting you again. I wanted him to know what I'm capable of," he finishes.
You sit down on a chair, holding your stomach and you sigh. Tangerine turns to look at you over your shoulder, "Ya okay, darlin'?" he asks, wiping his hands on a dish towel as he walks over and kneels in front of you, his hands on your knees. 
You nod. "I'm just a little tired," you whisper.
Tangerine caresses your cheeks. "See, this is why I had to intimidate the bastard. You were under unnecessary stress and that makes him a threat to everything I hold dear," he whispers and kisses your stomach over your dress. "Ya know I won't let anyone hurt you, luv, yeah?"
"I know," you say, running one of your hands in his curls and twisting one in your finger as you contemplate admitting this. "I did think it was hot," you admit, "Seeing you show off your arms like that."
Your husband's grin widens. "Yeah?" 
You glare at him and suppress a smile. "Oh, don't get a big head about it, you prat." 
Tangerine laughs and stands up, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He straightens up and flexes his muscles, sending you a playful wink. "Is this making ya all hot and bothered for me?"
You shake your head but the way you're staring at him says otherwise. Tangerine helps you stand, smirking as he sees that look in your eyes. He knows your pregnancy sometimes makes you hornier than usual and he can read your moods easily now. 
"Want me to make the ache go away?" he teases and kisses your cheek. 
You laugh breathlessly and wrap your arms around his neck. "Okay," you say and then look at him seriously, "But you're doing all the work. I just wanna lay there," you pout, "I'm tired."
Tangerine smiles and nods, "Such a princess," he teases and then succumbs to your wishes, "But anything for you, luv'."   
547 notes · View notes
gremlingottoosilly · 9 months
Text
Under the Christmas tree [dark!141 x fem!Reader] (Secret Santa fic)
Secret Santa gift for @crash-and-live 141 had a wonderful time taking their combat medic to be their captive barracks bunny instead. Now, the Sergeants have decided you will make a wonderful gift for their COs. CW and Tags: Dub-con, poly!141, inappropriate celebration of Christmas, power imbalance, bondage, slight BDSM.
Tumblr media
Gaz was always an expert on knots. 
Fancy little ribbons and bows – not so much. He prides himself on being suspiciously quick to adapt to the changing environment, yes, but learning how to tie bows when your little captive is acting just a tad bit dismissive towards the whole idea is…hard. Not as hard as hanging down the rope on a moving helicopter, but…
— Come, luv. Stop strugglin’ 
He smiles, all teeth and no lies, when you – his favorite medic, the best thing ever happening to this bloody team – started meowling something about the circulation and cutting off the bloodstream and how you don’t exactly like not only being held in the basement of the base but also being tied up…he looks at you and just knows he can’t resist booping you on the nose, kissing your perfect fuckin cheeks while Soap already has his hands in your hair, gently brushing it to put even more ribbons and bows. Red, just like on a Christmax gift. 
You’re a bloody gift. 
— I ken ye don’t like sittin’ like this, but Lt needs pick me up, aye? 
Soap smiles when you struggle just a bit more, your tied hands brushing against his stomach as you slowly buck your hips back. Trying to get just a tiny bit of stimulation, sneaky little lass – this is why he loves you, so smart and so adorably dumb at the same time. The best thing that ever happened to them is that you still act like you don’t enjoy being their shared chewing toy. They can agree it’s just a bit of a stretch from your previous working environment but hell, at least you’re not being shot at. Johnny’s hand gently moves from your head to your neck, adjusting the little red bow he made from the ribbons. They tried so hard to find the softest ever ribbons without a sharp edge and material that could cut off the circulation – even though Kyle was still doing his favorite knots that rendered you absolutely defenseless. You lick your lips and try to rock from side to side, making the ribbons a bit more loose – it doesn’t work, of course. Not like your team ever wanted you to have a say in their perverse desires, right? 
You fell into the Stockholm syndrome quite easily, especially since they were so stuck on always respecting your wishes(except for letting you out, of course) and never forcing anything too harsh…up until now, apparently. Making sure you’re on your best behavior because it’s Christmas, they have a small table set up – beer, whiskey, some snacks that you naively put on because you’re still not allowed to cook, and they don’t really care for home-cooked meals – and your shaking form, twisted in a somewhat sexy pose all because they needed a little Christmas present for their CO’s. 
Gaz brushes his hand on your tummy, gently pushing it down – you were prepared, of course, so much lube was out in your glossy folds, with Soap’s mouth buried deep between your legs, until you felt you’re going to pass out from the sheer amount of orgasm he was edging out of you. There is a reason why Johnny isn’t allowed to eat you out when Ghost isn’t around – his self-control is non-existent when push comes to your cunt and the tongue he can shove in. 
You feel like you’re going to burst when you finally hear the door opening. When you finally hear Captain – his tired, gruff voice, the way Ghost’s jacket silently hits the ground as they start to undress. Usually, you’re made to greet them with kisses and your soft lips on their cocks if they feel particularly tired. Usually, you’re made to wait for them in the bedroom, with their sergeants gently playing with you because, of course, you’re the property of all four of them, no matter the power dynamic. 
Nothing is usual now – you’re laying under a Christmas tree, naked and aroused, your pussy is all puffy and swollen from Soap’s tongue, your body is tied up with red ribbons Gaz was using. You want to be good for them, and so you lay here, hoping your obedience will be enough for a few more climaxes. Ghost is the first to put his hands on you. 
Kneading your breasts, gently forcing his rough fingers on your exposed nipples, you’re so sweet for him, so perfect, laid out like a beautiful gift – he can only groan in arousal as he slowly pushes the ribbons from your chest, taking in the view of your hardened buds and bite marks – evidence of Kyle taking his mark while he was tying you up. You might have been apprehensive about the whole idea, but you’re playing the role of a gift perfectly – just like you should. 
— Bloody hell, love. So pretty for us. 
— She was such a good girl for us, Lt. Didnae even resisted much. ~ — Is that right, sweetheart? 
You can only nod, your mouth stuffed with a pretty gag – you’re drooling all around it, looking fucking adorable as you try and look as harmless as possible. No reason to provoke them now when they already made it clear just how many orgasms they are going to take from you tonight. 
Ghost smiles under his mask, his hands moving to play with your lower tummy, squeezing the soft flesh and teasing your folds – you’re soft and pliable for them, spread out like a perfect toy. The most desirable thing they could ever find under a Christmas tree.
Price caresses your face with a softness you didn’t know a man of his position could have. He kisses you, and his whiskers tickle your soft skin – you aren’t sure if you can even handle him being so damn gentle about everything. He laughs as you try to wiggle out of Ghost’s grasp, their hands laying on your body – bruises and marks are scattered across your skin, making you the perfect canvas. Gosh, you’re beautiful – John doesn’t even know what they did to deserve such a little treat. — Such a pretty display for us, eh? 
— Sergeants outdid themselves this time. 
— You bet they did. Are you goin’ to behave for us, love? 
Price smiles when you whimper, spreading your legs like a pretty toy. Ghost already pushing you to the ground, forcing his way in between your thighs – you’re so open for them, vulnerable to the tip of his cock pressing in your folds already. Soap did a good job eating you out, even Simon’s cock won’t be too much – not after the way Gaz was spreading you on three of his fingers, smiling with each of your little attempts at moans. You know the night is going to be long.
1K notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Simon screwing you in the shower.
The warm water dripped over your bodies like rain, coating everything inside of the shower with a layer of wetness. Sealed inside the oasis, a thick layer of heavy condensation filled the air, making all that you touched from each other to the walls slick.
Simon's large hand dug into your hip, making sure he had a good, strong grip on your thigh that he held up against his side so that he could thrust inside you easily.
Your hand was pressed against the foggy glass of the shower door, using it as a bit of leverage to keep you steady while those wide, muscular hips of his ground into your own as they rolled his cock into your pussy over and over again.
"Fuckin' hell," that husky voice hit your ears over the sound of the running water. His raw lips had just disconnected from around the tender flesh of your neck to move higher up towards your ear as he left a trail of burning kisses all along the moist surface.
Head back as he worked his magic, you felt him hum into your skin, his hips never loosing speed as he kept that's delirious rhythm steady on. "Cannot get enough of ya," he growled. "Even when I'm inside ya, I need more. I'm fuckin desperate, luv. Goddamn desperate."
Two beefy arms shoved you back suddenly as Simon pulled out of you, making you hit the back wall with a light thud as your body bounced off of it, but quickly you were scooped back up as he wrapped those arms back around your waist to hoist you up, making you throw your legs around him to hold on.
"Goddammit, I can't take it, need more... now," the desperation in his tone made your legs vibrate. Your clit twinged as he moved in and caught your lips with his own, squatting down so that he could realign his cock with your entrance and strike back up into you in one smooth motion.
All this wet, all this warmth, all this tepid flesh at his disposal, that only made the primal part of himself gain full control. As your bodies slipped and slid across each other, your back pressed firmly against the shower wall as your tits were pressed into his chest, he could do nothing more that rut into you like some beast hell bent on getting what was his.
His pace caught right back up to where it was seconds before, not a moment to spare. "You've put me under a spell, ya bitch," he grunted with the force of his thrusts. "I can't stop fuckin' pining for this tight little pussy. Gonna go fuckin' mad."
Your forearms wrapped around his broad shoulders as you held on while he bucked wildly in and out of you. The muscles in his back contracted and released under your fingertips, another sign of just how desperately rough his movements were.
His flesh was on fire, burning for you and only you, and even the water from the shower head was no help in taming it's flames. There was a part of him that worried he would not be able to stop until he had completely devoured everything inch of you; that was how strong his need was.
"Mine," he claimed aloud as you whimpered into his shoulder, his cock hitting that specific bundle of nerve ending inside you. "You're all mine, sweetheart. Ya got that? I can't fuckin' stand the thought of anyone else havin' ya, ever."
"Yes," you breathed, "say it again baby."
He smirked. "You're mine, mine. No one else can ever fuckin' touch ya. I ain't ever sharin' all this beauty."
A blanket of steamy air surrounded you both as the hot warm continued to pour in, locking out the entire world from the inside of the shower so it felt you were a million miles away. To be in such a place, in the throws of passion as Simon declared his claim to you, it was all so overwhelming that your body ached lustfully for release.
Fingernails dug into his back as the last bits of your sanity had you clinging on for dear life, the raw lines across his shoulder blades stinging from the water pouring down the contours of his back. "Goddamn, I just wanna keep my cock buried in you foreva," he hissed at your delicious roughness as your hips rolled over him, the pressure nearly at its peak. You were panting like a bitch in heat and he was doing everything he could to push you over the edge.
Pumping in and out of you with everything he had, his head wandered down the front of your chest as he squat down a little more, his mouth hungrily searching for it's prize. Finally he is able to reach your tit and greedily he took the nipple into his mouth, sucking on the supple flesh as the tip of his tongue rolled around the silk smooth areola.
God your soft breast felt like heaven in between his lips, the damned flesh so juicy. He had to press his body even harder into your own to keep you from slipping, but it was worth it just to keep your tit locked in his mouth.
"Fuck, Simon," you moaned, your fingers running up the back on his neck to his head where you tangled them into his short, wet locks. That mouth was making you vibrate as the sensation of suction sent shocks of pleasure tingling down your spine.
Not one to ever leave any man behind, Simon unlatched from the first breast to give the other the same amount of attention. It was all too much, the pumping between your legs mixed with the tingling sensation at your breasts, and that heated pressure began gathering in the pit of your stomach, about to violently through you off.
Your hips ground more into him, he knows that telltale sign that you are close. Amber eyes met yours again as he moved back up to his full height; he needed to see it, the look in your eyes as you come.
"I know you're close, luv," he says assuredly. "That's it sweetheart, come for me. Come all over my fuckin' cock. Goddammit I need you to come for me...so bad..."
Simon had to have it, you orgasm; he needed to know that your body responded to his in that very precise way that would make sure you'd never stray. He desperately needed to be the one to get you off. And as he staved off his own orgasm, he would.
"Don't stop," you begged as your head fell back against the wall... as if Simon would ever even dream of such a thing.
"Not until your legs are fuckin' quakin', sweetheart."
His thighs were burning with shooting pain as he continued to squat under you, but he didn't stop; it was worthy any amount of discomfort to see you come completely undone.
Your fingers in his hair clenched down, yanking wildly at his hair as with a few more precise thrusts that warmth finally shot through your torso and you rocked forward against with a cry.
"A-ah... f-f-fuck..." you stammered as your orgasm shook through you.
"That's it," Simon coaxed you through it, "ride it all the fuckin' way with me, luv...almost there..."
And not even a few seconds more he followed suit, a gravely roar ripping through his chest as he milked himself completely dry, his body convulsing with the strength of his ejaculation; fuck did you always make him come so hard.
"G-goddamn..." he said through heavy breaths, his soaking head coming to rest with it's forehead against your shoulder.
He did not let you go until you had both calmed, just letting the sound of the running water and your breathing lull you both back down. Picking up his head from your body, he laid a breathless kiss up on your lips, his face resting against your own from sheer exhaustion.
"Told ya you'd fuckin' enjoy it," he said, playful smile plastered to those full lips.
Carefully he set you back on your feet, your legs wobbling tiredly from the exertion. "You could make me enjoy anything," you admitted freely. "We'll have to do it again sometime."
Simon's fingers twirled the loose, wet strands of your hair between them. "You got it wrong, luv, ya see it's you that could make me enjoy any fuckin' thing. My beautiful girl, I'd have a right ol time in hell if you were the one to take me there."
His large hand lingered against your cheek, his thumb stroking the soft, supple skin. "You've got me fuckin' whipped, sweetheart, and I am more than fine to keep it that way."
He held you close, peppering your cheeks with stray kisses as he moved you both back fully under the shower head, ready to clean up the delicious mess he had just made.
7K notes · View notes
taskforce420 · 24 days
Text
tap out. simon 'ghost' riley
it didn't take a genius to know that simon riley, had been through hell. no family, close to no friends outside of his line of work. he was the shell of a man, a living ghost if you will; but people knew he was not one to be taunted or made fun of. sure he was a broken man, but he'd never take disrespect.
it did take a genius to know that you, had been through hell. no family, close to no friends outside of your line of work. you were quiet, always kept to yourself, never caused much trouble, unless you were on the field getting your hands dirty- bloody even. no one knew about your past, your story. but you liked it that way.
so, here you and ghost stood. arms behind your back, standing at ease, looking straight ahead.
as of right now, a common army tradition was ongoing, 'tap out' it was called, where the soldiers stood at ease as they waited for their loved ones to tap them out, letting them move, talk, interact with their family etc.
your gaze slowly shifted from the ground, to the families crying tears of happiness as they saw their son or daughter again after months or years of them being gone. mothers held their sons close to them, fathers cheered and praised their daughters for their accomplishments.
and you? well, you stood there, wishing to yourself, that maybe seeing your mother and father pass away was all a dream and that you'd see them walking over to you any minute, with wide smiles and excited cheers.
and ghost? well, he didn't care about the fact that no one was there to see him, to congratulate him; he cared that you, his closet friend since the beginning of training, was stood there. alone.
he didn't understand why, but he could probably guess. nonetheless, he watched as you uncomfortably shifted your weight from one foot to the other. he noticed you didn't want to be there, didn't want to have to listen to the laughs and 'hellos' of mothers and fathers.
ghost could relate, he let out a deep sigh; letting his arms drop to his side, he moved from his spot. he knew full well that he was breaking rules but as of now, he didn't care. not one bit. he walked over to you, eyes meeting with yours almost instantly.
"come on, luv." he said, as comforting as he possibly could. he raised his hand to your shoulder, officially tapping you out. he could see the hurt in your eyes.
"thanks, si" he nodded as you thanked him, he felt horrible knowing your pain.
you let your hands come to your sides, subconsciously, you started to fidget. your rough fingertips played with the hem of your t-shirt. "its not fair that they make us do this.." you said softly, head hanging low, watching your feet as you both walked back into the base, knowing you had nothing better to do.
"mhm" is all ghost said as he looked down at you, clearly seeing your defeated mood. "i wouldn't dwell on it, sweetheart. i know what your thinking" you nodded, not really bothered to speak. you appreciated ghost walking with you though, keeping you company.
"your family is here now, us, me...soap, gaz, price. the whole force, your brothers, your sisters" ghost spoke. you knew he was right, you got along incredibly well with the members of Task Force 141, there were many years full of core memories with the lot of them.
like the time when you and soap got bored one night so you snuck out of the base and found yourselves at a water bank, completely soaked from jumping in. you both laughed uncontrollably as you splashed one another.
or even when you and price sat in his office, having a deep conversation about previous missions, his past, life in general. you two agreed that you had bonded, ending the night with a simple hug.
or that time when you and gaz decided to go a nearby bar, its safe to say that you both got absolutely hammered from the mixed alcohol in your system. you laughed with one another as you stumbled back to base, holding onto one another. laughing even harder as price and soap caught you in your drunken state.
or...or even the time with ghost.
when you two lay on his dishevelled bed, your back to his chest, his arm lazily thrown around your waist, holding you against him for comfort. his hand traced the scars on your waist, your hips, your legs. you stared out the window, smiling to yourself. nothing serious had happened...you both just adored the company of one another, which is why you found yourself falling asleep to the feeling his breaths on your shoulder, and his hand caressing your skin. "you okay?" he had asked you, moving to lie on his back. you had turned to face him. smiling when you saw him already looking at you, his arm rest behind his head. "mhm, always" you had softly spoke.
you smiled to yourself as you finally walked into the base, simon still by your side. "yeah..you're right" you said looking up at the large man. he happened to look down at you, you swear you could see him smile beneath his mask.
"i know..."
lemme know if you guys would like a pt. 2 :)
345 notes · View notes