#this is just my favourite because he looks so insanely out of place | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hwaflms · 17 days

Text

round & round! ★ [ l.dh ]

{💭} hyuck : i suggested playing spin the bottle because i wanted to kiss you, but now everyone’s kissing you except me :/

[☆] pairing. haechan x reader, slight jaemin x reader ft. 00’ line, chaewon of lesserafim and sieun of stayc

[☆] genre. smut + fluff | stoner!nct, pwp bc it’s me

[☆] wc. 6.1k

[☆] warnings. explicit content (mdni), weed/marijuana use, lots of making out, slight choking, dirty talk, fingering, sexual stuff in a semi-public place, use of the word ‘slut’, very slight degradation, not very proofread, pretty tame tbh

[☆] notes. my first time writing again in like??? two years???? istg i didn’t mean to abandon this acc 😞 pls be nice i haven’t written in a while and this is not my most favourite work but i’m warming up for more stuff in da future i just wanted to post a lil self-indulgent smth abt hyuck bc bf☝️ idk how active i’ll be because of uni and other things but i missed u guys!!! any feedback is appreciated enjoy :p

even through the clouds of smoke engulfing the little living room of jeno and jaemin’s shared flat, your hooded eyes still met.

today was an important day amongst your friend group; it was chaewon’s first time smoking up with everyone. your friends weren’t really the type to pressure anyone into doing anything they weren’t sure about, but considering the astounding majority who enjoyed smoking some variation of weed, group sessions were a frequent occurrence. you either joined in or didn’t, chaewon being the latter until she decided of her own accord that she was going to try it with the people she trusted.

you sesh with jeno most often, seeing as he was the one who introduced you to weed and taught you everything you know about it. after weeks of listening to you complain about sleepless nights, jeno suggested you try smoking a joint before you go to bed, especially since it was starting to affect your attendance. (“i can’t keep attending these zoology classes without you, y/n. every time something stupid happens, i laugh and make a joke out loud because i forget you aren’t there, and now i’m pretty sure people think i’m either insane or just really fucking lonely”.)

now, smoking up has been a pretty regular occurrence, especially since jeno introduced you to a bunch of his friends and vice versa, all of you making up one big, happy group of stoners. chaewon and sieun were your friends who got along with everyone else just fine, and though they didn’t hang out with the others as much as you did, they were still welcome whenever.

presently, you are leaning back against the couch, all the way on the end, because jaemin is sprawled out alongside you, opting to rest his legs on your lap. haechan makes a joke that you don’t understand, but you laugh anyway along with everyone else, except renjun who covers up his laugh with cough.

“you can never let me have it, huh?”, hyuck scoffs, narrowing his eyes at renjun who’s mouth forms a thin line. “i know for a fact you find me funny.”

you hear that he makes a remark back at haechan but what he says doesn’t register in your head, everything sounding far away. remembering the special occasion, you turn to face chaewon and sieun, who are giggling away on the floor about something between the two of them. you don’t know what they said but you smile anyway. she clearly seemed like she was having a good trip, and so was everyone else.

swallowing nothing, you realise how dry your throat feels, and with that realisation came this undeniable desire for some form of liquid. “jen,”, you tilt your head back and call out to the boy who was already rolling another joint on the table behind you. “did you end up buying more coke?”

“check the fridge”, he mumbles without looking at you, tongue poking his cheek out of concentration as he focuses on what he was doing. with a groan, you heave jaemin’s legs off your lap, muttering a couple ‘sorry’s when he starts to complain about the change in position.

you all but float to the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge and spotting the fresh cans of coke placed neatly in the overcrowded appliance. the first gulp feels like heaven against your parched throat, taking a few more while standing there.

“you gonna share or no?”, a voice startles you, turning to find haechan’s figure looming right behind you with a dopey smile on his face.

“god, we need to get you a bell or something. i never hear you coming”, you roll your eyes before grabbing two glasses from the cabinet. you’re disappointed to see that there was no ice in their freezer, but you pour the drink into the glass anyway.

“why are you pouring it into a glass?”, haechan furrows his eyebrows, looking pointedly between the glass and the literal can in your hand. “now we have to wash two glasses when we could’ve just drank it from the can.”

he’s right, of course, but you’re not gonna tell him that. instead, you pretend that you were planning on adding some lemon juice to the drink because you saw it on instagram. while you figure he doesn’t believe you, he humours you anyway and tries your little concoction, which ends up being pretty damn good.

out of all of jeno’s friends, haechan definitely stood out to you. you didn’t really understand why, you were just drawn to him, even way back before you met him, when jeno used to tell you about his friends. “loud and annoying” were the words he used to describe him, but the smile that appeared on his face anyway let you know that he was someone special to jeno. this was not to say his other friends weren’t special, you got along incredibly well with all of them, meshing right in with their group.

as of right on cue, jaemin’s voice loudly sounds out from the living room, “are you guys fucking in there or what?”.

sighing, you pick up your glass and begin to walk out of the kitchen, but not before purposely knocking haechan’s shoulder when you walk past him, hearing him snort before following you out as you exit the room. perhaps if you had lingered in the kitchen for a couple seconds longer, you would’ve heard haechan muttering something along the lines of “i wish” under his breath.

“jeez, took you long enough, can i have some of that?”, renjun drawls, lifting himself off the armchair with a smile, to which you roll your eyes but pass him your glass anyway. you sit down on the floor opposite the couch and he looks as if he is about to compliment your drink-making skills before haechan cuts him off.

“dude, chaewon and sieun look like they’re about to fall asleep, let’s do something”, he half yawns out, opting to stroll over to your spot on the floor and sinking down next to you.

“not…sleepy…”, chaewon murmurs, but her voice is muffled because her cheek is pressed against sieun’s shoulder, both of them sprawled out on the floor like it was a comfortable bed.

“sure you aren’t…”, jeno chides with a smile, getting up from the table to walk over to where all of you were situated. he twirls his newly rolled joint between his fingers, finally holding it out in his palm as if it were some magical gadget, and if you were being fully honest, you were sold. “round 2? or 3, I can’t really remember…”

some words of agreement were muttered across the room, chaewon and sieun even groggily getting up from what looked like a very comfortable napping spot. another rotation began, and you made sure to blow out your smoke directly into an unsuspecting haechan’s face when it was your turn.

“let’s play a game or something”, jaemin suggests, taking a long puff and passing it to jeno who sat beside him, and soon the room was hazy once again, the smell of weed infiltrating your nostrils.

“like what?”, chaewon coughs weakly in between her hit and renjun pats her back before he hands her your coke that you hadn’t received back after you gave it to him. so long for that.

“monopoly?”, jeno offers with a shrug and haechan lets out an obnoxious snore as a reply, making you laugh but you cover it up with a cough when you meet jeno’s playfully narrowed eyes. “okay then, big guy, what’s your incredible idea?”

haechan appears to actually think about it for a moment, looking around the room for some sort of inspiration maybe, until his eyes land on you.

“okay jaemin, get that empty wine bottle from last week, we’re playing spin the bottle”, he is grinning from ear to ear, wiggling his eyebrows even though all his suggestion receives is a bunch of groans and sighs.

your eyebrows are raised however, and you try not to let your reaction show too much on your face. spin the bottle? you hadn’t played that since you were maybe fourteen, but that was the least of your concerns at the moment. haechan wanted to play spin the bottle? who was he hoping to kiss? or was it just a whimsical little suggestion that was more of a joke?

it didn’t fully seem like he meant it as a joke, judging by his expression as he awaited some actual responses from the group. “what are we, fourteen?”, renjun might as well have read your mind, but he soon joins you and haechan on the floor, the others following suit. jaemin presents the empty bottle and places it in the middle of the little circle you have formed, everyone seeming slightly more keen as the joint runs out.

maybe it was the thc talking, but it didn’t really seem like a bad idea to you anymore. you were all single, attractive and close enough that it wouldn’t make things weird, and most importantly, you wouldn’t mind getting more familiar with haechan’s lips.

you shocked your own self with the sudden lewd thoughts in your head about the male sitting next to you, squirming in your position slightly. he turns his head towards you like he could hear your thoughts (“shut up, y/n, he can’t hear your thoughts…right?”) and you swear his eyes soften a bit. “are you sure you wanna play?”, he asks softly, mistaking your tenseness for discomfort, but you shake your head a little too quickly for your liking.

“no, no, let’s play, it’s not like we have anything better to do, right?”, you feign indifference and after everyone else agrees, the bottle is spun for the first time by haechan.

much to renjun’s dismay, it lands on him, and it’s almost comical the way he looks at the bottle pointing at him before slowly looking up at haechan. “renjunnie, let me kiss you”, haechan whines in a high pitched tone while drawing out the “you”, puckering his lips expectantly. the next three minutes consist of renjun listing every single person he would rather kiss than haechan, and you’d have half the mind to volunteer yourself if you weren’t clutching at your sides laughing at the whole exchange, slapping at both jeno and sieun who tried and failed to dodge your waving hands.

renjun finally relents when chaewon suggests he lets him kiss his cheek instead, but haechan is no quitter so he makes sure that he plants the loudest, most wet kiss on his face before sighing in victory when he sits back down. renjun is not the most happy with this, and he tells jaemin to take his turn instead while he rushes off to the bathroom to wash his face. hyuck looks indignant, calling out behind renjun, asking if he wants another one.

taking the turn instead of renjun, jaemin spins the bottle harshly, and it spins and spins and spins for what seemed like an eternity. your eyes are so focused on the way the bottle looks as it spins that you don’t even notice that it has stopped, until jeno nudges you with his shoulder. it’s neck is pointed directly at you, and you finally look up from your trance at jaemin, who wears an undeniable smirk on his face.

while you didn’t exactly see him that way, there was absolutely no denying that jaemin was a very attractive man, and he was no different presently, the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up as he propped himself up with his arms, looking at you expectantly.

you don’t want to look at haechan right now, because you can see out of the corner of your eye that his face is looking straight forward, not at you or jaemin, just forward. you wonder what is going through his head, but your thoughts are cut short when jaemin scoots closer to you in the circle.

“are you okay with this?”

and when you think about, you are. “yeah, i mean it’s just a game”, you reply, not wanting to ruin the fun or raise any suspicions, to which jaemin agrees and inclines his head towards you.

he kisses you, more fully than you were expecting, but you had no complaints really as you kissed him back, titling your head in the opposite direction to slip your lips over his. you wonder if your lips were as dry as they felt, and in the back of your mind it registers that your friends are watching you kiss your other friend because they hoot and giggle, but you can’t really bring yourself to care.

jaemin’s lips taste sweet and he smells sweet, his touch soft as he brings a hand up to your cheek, gently holding it while he continues kissing you. it probably wasn’t as long as it felt, but jaemin finally pulls away, the remnants of his sweet chapstick lingering on your lips. you are aware of how hot your face feels when you pull away and return to your spot, tucking your hair behind your ears.

“dude, what chapstick do you use?”, you ask after clearing your throat, and jaemin rummages in his pant pocket for a moment before whipping out a cute pink tube, holding it out in front of him. “strawberry dream, baby”, he winks, reapplying it on his lips. “never go anywhere without it.”

renjun returns after god knows how long, stating that he had to re-do his skin care routine because haechan had completely thrown off his skin’s ph balance, and is saddened to hear that he missed witnessing you and jaemin.

the game continues in a steadfast manner for the next couple of rounds thanks to haechan insisting we play one more round, though it doesn’t exactly go in the manner you were hoping for. the group is practically in tears after watching jeno and jaemin share an awkward kiss, chaewon arguing that they can’t claim “no homo” because it was the most homo thing she’d seen in a while, and that was saying a lot because she was, in fact, gay.

you have now kissed sieun, jaemin once again and an especially endearing renjun, who’s cheeks and tips of his ears are painted a bright red after you plant a full peck on his waiting lips. haechan grumbles something about renjun not having kissed anyone besides his mom to explain his reaction, but jeno is quick to cut renjun off before another argument ensues.

“i don’t know about you guys, but i think that’s enough exchanging of saliva for one day”, he all but sighs, lying down on the floor dramatically. while you do agree, you’re disheartened, because not once has the bottle landed on you when spun by haechan, or the other way around. it feels like the universe is fucking with you, because really how many times can you spin a bottle between a group of seven people and not have it land on the one person you want to kiss even once.

haechan looks like he wants to say something, but appears to decide against it in the end, stretching and standing up. it is then mutually agreed by everyone that it was time to watch a movie.

“super bad?”, jaemin proposes, and even though most people had already watched the movie, no one argues against it and jeno starts setting up the movie on their big screen tv.

settling into the couch, you glance over at haechan and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t feeling a tad bit disappointed. this whole spin the bottle thing makes you wonder about all the other times where you could have had an opportunity to make a move on the brown-haired boy.

you’d gone on long drives together, gone partying, even drank with just each other a couple of times. the closest the two of you had ever come to crossing that line was while you where dancing at a party and his arms were looped around your waist from behind, slowly swaying to the beat. you’d danced with him tons of times before that but you recall thinking the air was a little different than normal, more heated, but you also recall mistaking renjun for your professor, so you didn’t trust yourself. the moment came and went, and neither of you ever had the balls to address it, and now it had been way too long since to bring it up.

“this seat taken?”, haechan snaps you out of your bitter thoughts, jerking his head towards the spot on the couch next to you. you clear your throat and shake your head, scooting over slightly so he could sink down next to you. “what’s up, y/n, you look a little…not present. you still high?”

it’s funny because your mind certainly wasn’t present, it was in the gutter, but you choose to blame the weed. “yeah, i’m still high”, you answered truthfully, and so was he, his red, hooded eyes a dead giveaway.

“okay, perfect, i wanted to show you this stupid tiktok i saw”, he’s pulling his phone out of his pocket and leaning closer to you to show you some video of a cat, or maybe a dog, you weren’t paying attention. he laughs at whatever the animal did, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he does so, and you observe him instead of watching. when he doesn’t hear you laugh, he peeks over at you but you’re quick to turn your head back to his phone, letting out a very late giggle at the video.

if he did catch you, he doesn’t mention it, continuing to scroll and show you more videos. jeno finally gets the movie set up and turns off the lights, taking up the final seat left on the couch. the movie begins, and everyone falls into a comfortable silence bar hyuck, who makes the occasional comment that earns him a snort from you each time.

at some point during the movie, haechan stretches his arms out behind him, placing his arm on the head of the couch directly behind you. glancing at him quickly, you can’t tell whether the action was purposeful or not, because if it was, he was doing a very good job of looking nonchalant. you try your best to ignore it, but his hand is resting directly above your shoulder, inches away from touching you- but it never does.

you had never noticed what nice hands haechan had before. long and slender, nails clipped short and clean, his middle, ring and index finger adorned with various silver rings. you note that he wears three rings on his left hand, but none on his right. his right hand sits on top of one of his thighs, two of his fingers drumming against it following some rhythm going on in his head. his fingers are long, and the only thing you can think about is just how nice they would feel inside–

no, no, no, stop it, since when are you this horny?

you realise stressing out about how horny you are all of a sudden is just going to lead to a bad trip and you don’t want that, and you want to clear your head. even though you’re feeling a different kind of thirsty, you figure a distraction for a couple minutes would be helpful, so you excuse yourself to go get some water, jumping up from the couch and walking towards the kitchen. unbeknownst to you, haechan’s watchful eyes follow your figure as you exit the room.

finally away and in the kitchen, you fill up a glass and lean over the sink, closing your eyes to collect yourself. you can finish the movie without driving yourself crazy over haechan, right? tonight is no different than any other hangout and you don’t want to weird haechan out with your unnecessary staring and poorly concealed thirsting. you just need to stop thinking about his stupid hands, his stupid thighs, his stupid hair and his stupid kissable lips. “kissable? lock in, y/n, lock in…”

“who are you talking to?”

you wince but don’t turn around, eyes screwed shut tightly. you’ve been gone for a couple minutes and you don’t know when he left the room, but you put down the glass and turn to face him.

“what’s got you so jumpy?”, he questions, leaning against the counter. his arms are folded and his gaze is piercing, face tilted slightly to the left as he observes you. this is the second time he’s startled you in the kitchen today and also happens to be the very reason you’ve been so jumpy.

“nothing, i just…god, you need to starting announcing your entry into a room, dude…”

he furrows his eyebrows but lets out a chuckle anyway, slowly sauntering over to where you stood. eyes never leaving yours, he now stands directly in front of you, caging you in between the sink and his body. the closer proximity and dim lighting isn’t helping your case in the slightest, feeling all hot and bothered as if there was a sudden change in temperature. “what’s happening? you’re usually never like this, we’ve smoked up together so many times. are you having a bad trip?”

you understand why he might think that, what with your jerky movements, dazed staring and just overall disconnected demeanour. while you were wound up a little tighter than usual, you weren’t having a bad trip, your mind was just very slightly preoccupied. “no, hyuck, i’m fine, i just…needed some water”, it’s a half-lie you tell, choosing to not tell him the full truth for the sake of your own pride.

“you just seem…off”, he seems to pick his words carefully, eyes roaming over the expanse of your face. “no, i just…”, you trail off to try and find the words to explain this situation away, but he’s just looking at you so intensely. it’s so silent in the room and the air feels all too still, and you swear you’re trying to speak coherently but haechan switches his weight to his other leg, wetting his lips with his tongue while he awaits an answer and you just freeze. “i…”

“‘i’ what? see? you’re doing it again”, he starts, running a hand through his hair, and the muted light that leaks in through the window illuminates only one half of his face, but you can see him so clearly that even the way his pretty eyelashes brush against his cheek when he blinks doesn’t go unnoticed by you. you’re subconsciously chewing on your bottom lip, feeling a little like a deer caught in headlights. “you have this look in your eye. like you wanna…”

“…what?”

everything is still and unmoving, until your eyes zero in on haechan’s hand as he raises it, slowly bringing it to graze his fingers over your cheek. his touch leaves a burning hot trail on your skin and using his thumb, he releases your bottom lip from under your teeth, hand lingering cautiously for a fleeting moment before he drops it.

“like what, haechan?”, you repeat yourself, urging him to just say whatever it is he has to say, getting tired of this back and forth. you could sell a kidney just to see what was going on in his mind right now, because he looks torn between speaking his mind and just staying silent.

“like you want to kiss me.”

a few beats of complete and utter silence pass, not even hearing the dull sound of the television in the living room anymore over the thudding of your heart in your ears. haechan takes a small and tentative step towards your frozen figure, gripping the counter you’re using to lean against with his right hand, effectively trapping you in your place. now you really are a deer caught in headlights, because he’s spoken what you’ve been thinking about for the past couple hours into existence and he is absolutely correct.

“am i wrong, pretty?”

judging by your sharp intake of breath and open-mouthed expression, you’d have to be a fool to think otherwise. he looks as if he’s waiting for you to answer him regardless, giving you a chance to get out of this, but your voice is no longer functioning, and it takes all the strength in your body to shake your head ‘no’.

his eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips, tongue peeking out to lick his lips again. “i suggested playing spin the bottle because i wanted to kiss you”, his voice is strained as he admits this, quiet and careful like he’s holding back while his eyes are trained on yours like he’s daring you to break eye contact. you don’t. “but then everyone else was kissing you but me.”

normally you would giggle at his little frown, but all you can muster up is a whisper of his name, finally breaking his all-consuming eye contact in favour of looking at his lips again. you don’t know who moves first, but the next thing you know is your lips are pressed together in a fierce kiss, your hands tangled in his soft, brown locks while he grip your waist and pull you into him.

he kisses you like a man starved and you do the same with equal fervour, not even being able to process that your little daydream is coming true. his hand comes up to caress your cheek, soon moving down your neck after stroking your face softly, using it to tilt your head for you. the position of his hand is very purposeful because his thumb presses into your throat ever so slightly, but his grip is still tight enough that you couldn’t break the kiss (not that you wanted to, anyway). the other hand snakes around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer, pressing his hips into yours.

you’re positively drunk off the feeling of haechan’s lips molding over yours and you think you might just ascend when he tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth, using the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. body on fire, you mewl against his lips, swirling your own tongue around his while he slowly but surely bucks his hips into yours.

no wards are spoken while your hands thread through his hair, pulling on it and letting out a sound of surprise into his mouth when his hand trails down to your ass and grips it harshly. he finally releases you from the searing kiss, but he doesn’t let you catch your breath, instead spinning you around in his hold so that his front presses tightly into your back, hands slipping around your waist from behind. this feels like a déjà vu kind of moment because you are reminded of the time when you both were dancing in this exact position, except this time you were getting exactly what you wanted.

“you know how bad i wanted this?”, his voice echoes your thoughts and breaks the silence, hands running up and down your front in a teasing manner. lifting your shirt up slightly, he trails his fingers over the exposed skin of your torso and the action makes you squirm in his hold a little, and much to your surprise, he groans lewdly against your ear. “fuck, i’ve been thinking of this for so long. kissing you, having my hands all over you…”

you get the sense he’s talking more to himself than you, but you revel in it nonetheless. his hand grips your jaw and squishes your cheeks together so your lips form a pout, forcing it to the side where he plants one, two, three kisses to your puckered mouth. his other hand slips further up your shirt where he brazenly cups your boob through your bra, fondling one of them while his tongue peeks out to flick at your bottom lip.

you’re putty in his arms, all gasps and squirms and whispered ‘haechan’s. “what, baby?”, he mumbles into your cheek, the hand gripping your jaw letting go in order to slink down to your hip where it lingers for a moment. “what do you want?”

your lack of answer doesn’t bode well with him, earning you a tight squeeze to your hip as a kind of warning. “need you to touch me”, you whisper out defeatedly, and you feel haechan laugh mockingly against your face.

“yeah? need me to touch you?”, he mimics your voice while tutting, letting his hand slip further down to where you needed him the most, but not letting you have it just yet. “think you can be a good girl and keep quiet for me? we don’t need everyone outside hearing what a little slut you’re being in here.”

everyone outside. the fact that you were just a room away from all your friends who were sat watching a fun little movie together had completely slipped your mind, but if you were being honest, you couldn’t find it in you to give a shit. everything about your current disposition was so dirty. one hand under your shirt, the other about two seconds away from fingering you right in the middle of your friends’ kitchen, while said friends were sat outside, unaware of the goings-on under their own roof.

though you didn’t think actually getting caught in this position would be the most pleasant experience, the idea of it dampened your panties and caused you to whine out loud, tilting your head back against haechan’s shoulder. you receive an immediate hand clamped over your mouth in return, haechan tutting in your ear condescendingly. “looks like the little slut can’t follow a simple request.”

even though he reprimands you, his hands begin fumbling with the button of your jeans anyway, undoing it and pulling the zipper down. one hand comes up to wrap around your front and rests on your shoulder, holding you in place, and the other he sticks down your pants and cups your heat but makes no effort to move, chuckling when you try to move yourself against it. his crotch ruts against the swell of your ass and for you, any friction is better than no friction at the moment. with one hand gipping the arm around your shoulder, you slip the other behind you to palm at his hard cock over his pants, making him let out a sound of approval.

“please, hyuck”, you shake your face free of his hand and turn to look him in the eye, and he grips your throat and presses a chaste kiss to your lips.

he seems to accept your plea, finally moving his hand against you and you breathe a sigh of relief, lost in the feeling of his fingers rubbing circles on your clit over your wet underwear. he’s quick to slip his hand inside your panties, cold fingers pressed directly on to your bare pussy, spreading your wetness all over you. when he ultimately slips a finger into your tight, waiting core, you moan but it’s cut short when he slaps his hand over your mouth again. “keep. quiet.”

if someone were to walk in, the two of you would be a sight to see. you writhing in his tight hold while his hand is stuffed in your pants, two fingers pistoning in and out of you at a fast pace as his forehead is pressed against the side of your face, releasing short breaths. you look positively fucked out, and you’re both in a state of complete bliss as you grind against each other in a timely rhythm.

“my pretty girl. if i had known you wanted this too, i would’ve just grabbed you and kissed you like i wanted, in front of everyone.”

his voice is honey-like and sultry, and his fingers are nothing short of heavenly. they pump in and out of you, and he still manages to use his thumb to toy with your clit in this position, leaving you breathless and on the edge. “can’t believe jaemin and renjun got to kiss you before me.”

you’re so wet that your cunt makes downright sinful noises as he fingers you and you’re hoping that it isn’t really as loud as it seems. “you’re so wet, angel. so this is what had you all jumpy today”, he laughs like he’s stating the obvious, and you’d have half the mind to feel shy if his ministrations didn’t feel so fucking good right now.

you’re aware that you’re close and so is he because you’re clenching around his fingers, so he quickens his pace both inside you and against your clit. “you gonna cum for me, baby? right here, in the middle of kitchen, while everyone’s outside?”, he purrs against your face and you grip the part of his arm that isn’t shoved in your pants, digging your nails into his skin in a way that’s sure to leave a mark. his words make you feel dirty in the best way, not even knowing you could feel this turned on.

he peppers kisses along your jaw and neck, sucking here and there, and through the pale moonlight bleeding into the room from the window, the red blemishes that begin to bloom on your skin are visible to hyuck, and he seems pleased with his artwork. “that’s it, sweetheart, let go for me.”

your moans are muffled against his palm when you finally come, the orgasm ripping through you so strongly that you go limp in his hands, legs almost buckling at the sensation. with the added boost of the weed you smoked earlier, your orgasm is immense, feeling it pulse through your body until it’s too much, whining and wriggling in haechan’s firm hold. he holds you still and helps you ride out your high, whispering utterances of “that’s right, baby” and “my good girl” into your ear while you throw your head back and try to regulate your breathing.

in a moment, his hand slips out of your pants, turning you back around so you’re now facing him, grinning down at you from ear to ear as if you both hadn’t just defiled jaemin and jeno’s kitchen. “you feeling okay?”, he mumbles, tucking your hair behind your ear with the hand that wasn’t soaked, pressing a number of kisses all over your face as you nod and giggled, trying to evade his attack. he lets you go just to wash his hands, and it’s when he dries his wet hands on the material of his pants that you notice his raging boner, immediately feeling bad.

“wait hyuck, let me–“

as if he’s reading your mind once again, he shakes his head and takes both of your hands into his, wrapping them around his own waist while pulling you into him. “we can save that for another time, pretty”, he insists, his expression turning shy when he realises the implications behind his words. “that is, i-if you want another time, of course–“

it’s your turn to cut him off this time, but you do so by leaning up and connecting your lips again, bring a hand up to stroke his cheek. “of course i want another time, hyuck. i want this. i want you.”

your assurances do good to bring a smile to his pretty face, taking ahold of the hand on his cheek and pressing his lips to your skin gently, lovingly. “so, so, perfect.”

taking note of the prolonged amount of time the two of you had been gone, you skulk back into the living, but this time, hand in hand.

the scene you’re greeted with is a surprising one, because you find every single one of your friends to be sound asleep, much to your amusement and hyuck’s dismay. “so you’re telling me i could’ve been hearing you moan the whole time and none of these idiots would have even known?”, he is appalled, a hand coming up to rub at his face out of frustration. “i did all that for nothing?”

“i wouldn’t say for nothing”, you reveal, biting your lip and smiling up at the boy shyly. “i might have woken them up.”

“oh yeah, well now you’re going to”, and with that, he’s dragging you back to the kitchen while you giggle, nearly tripping over your own feet before he all but scoops you up in his arms, muttering to himself about having left something in the kitchen that needed urgent fetching.

1K notes · View notes

kechiwrites · 5 months

Text

choking hazard

simon “ghost” riley x medic!reader

synopsis: you have a very special request for simon. he thinks you're insane.

wc: 1.3k

cw: afab!reader, choking, grinding, hotdogging, haphazard kink negotiation, thigh riding, playful name-calling, no use of y/n ever.

an: a quick little bite of simon and medic reader for this challenge, which i technically failed cause this is way over 100 words. happy thanksgiving

“What?” He asks, but really, it lacks the traditional inflection of a question. Instead, the single word manages to hold deep exhaustion and a healthy helping of ‘what the fuck is wrong with you’.

Which, rude.

You stomp your foot, the moue of your lips more than a little petulant. “Oh, come on, don’t make it weird. Just...a little. Enough to pass out.” you raise your hand and pinch the air for emphasis.

“What?” Oh! The inflection was back, and he’d shifted weight onto his other foot. His cotton mask allows for you to see the top half of his face today, and you’re grateful, because the furrow in his brow exposes that while he really wants to just up and leave this conversation, he’s far too curious, or maybe perplexed? Disturbed?

“I want you to choke me out, Simon.” You grin, shrugging, “preferably with your cock in me but...” You mutter to yourself, pressing your lips together and widening your eyes in mock innocence when he glares at you in response, obviously hearing you.

“No.” He turns away from you, pushing around the ceramic skull you placed in your office. A paperweight, whose presence had absolutely no hidden, romantic meaning whatsoever, you’d simply seen it in a home goods display off base and snatched it up.

It had been on sale. Or something.

“I’m a doctor.” You tap your name tag insistently, “I know my limits, Si.” Now you’re just trying to rile him up, as if he’d ever lay a hand on you in anger you didn’t expressly beg for. Still, he hates when you shorten his name, used to hate it when you said it at all.

Thankfully, things change.

“Fucking quack.” He mutters and you make a loud, dramatic, wounded noise you’d heard in a K-Drama you had watched once before flipping back to your favourite period drama you’d watched a million times over. You flatten your hand against your chest and rear back, more for your own gratification than to impress your offence upon Simon.

“I’m serious! I’m curious and I know it won’t cause any real, lasting damage.” You approach him from behind, wrapping your arms around his middle. He flinches, not from surprise, you guess, but from sensation, before his body relaxes. You push your face between his shoulder blades, rubbing your nose against his shirt.

“I’ll suck you off after.” You murmur, and the lieutenant snorts derisively.

No dice.

“Then I’ll ask Soap to do it!” You release him, and circle around your desk, feigning a grab towards your cell phone.

He doesn’t rise to the bait initially, turning back to face you and crossing his inked, scarred arms. You ogle them shamelessly, eyes greedily tracing every bit of knicked skin, every prominent, tempting vein. Thing of beauty, his arms were. “Go on, then.” He shrugs and consternation makes you furrow your brow in defeat. Unfortunately, the closer the two of you become, the more bags of candy and suggestive texts and lingering glances you exchange, the easier it is to read the other’s intent, your bluffs.

You pout, and kick at the corner of your own desk, shifting it slightly. “Fine. I wouldn’t ask him.” You tilt your head, pinning him with a needy look you hope is suitably enticing, “I’m asking you cause I trust you, Simon. Please?”

Apparently, bald, earnest honesty is the ticket because your not-boyfriend heaves a sigh and uncrosses his arms, raising one to rub at the back of his neck, the black t-shirt he dons stretched tantalizingly tight over the curve of his muscled bicep.

Oh, this was going to be so good.

“Fine. Just don’t piss yourself.”

“Do people do that?” You wrinkle your nose, and Simon levels you with a look, dark brown eyes broadcasting a stark “Do I fucking look like I’m joking?”

Regardless, you clap your hands in celebration, locking the door to your office and sprinting back to stand in front of him, the framed photo of your commanding officer, your mother, and you looking on judgmentally. You try to ignore it but end up putting the photo down on its face, no need for dear mum and your boss to witness your fantasy come to life.

Simon turns you to face away from him, the heat of his hands seeping into your shoulders. He is always so warm. It had been a boon to your freezing feet the few times you’d shared a bed for actual sleeping. (He’d cursed at you for maybe a minute before hiking your legs up to bracket his hips, so you could fall asleep wrapped around him like a koala.)

“Double tap, you understand?” He barks, and you can’t help but shimmy in excitement.

“Yup!”

Simon wraps a burly arm around your neck, not exerting any pressure yet. He hooks his other arm around his wrist so it sits in his elbow, and places that palm on the crown of your head, securing you snugly in a standard choke-hold.

“Good?” He mutters low, his chest blankets your back, and you're enveloped in the clean, sharp scent he usually carries with him.

You laugh, “Yeah-huh-huh-huh.” and you know you sound a little stupid, but you’re getting what you wanted and even without Simon utilizing force, you can feel yourself getting wet, forcing you to rub your thighs together in anticipation.

He begins to constrict your airway and it feels as though your head is ballooning, building up pressure as breathing slowly becomes more and more difficult. Your eyelids flutter closed and your lips part in shock. It doesn’t feel good, necessarily, but it certainly doesn’t feel bad. It’s obvious Simon’s holding back a lot. It probably should hurt but the lack of air makes your mind stutter to a stop, and all you can feel is Simon’s heat along your back and his strength holding you in place and his scent where it’s stalled in your lungs, unable to escape. When he shifts a bit behind you, your eyes pop back open in surprise at what you feel.

“You’re hard!” You wheeze incredulously, using the very last bit of air you had to call him out.

“And you’re a fucking lunatic.” He bites back, jerking his hips forward to rub his clothed erection against the swell of your ass. And he’s been doing that a lot lately, pushing up against your back, grinding along the fat of your thighs. Just last week, he’d spent a whole night hot-dogging (“Dumb fucking name, huh?”) the aching length of his dick between the cheeks of your ass, fucking against your flesh until he spilled hot and thick over your lower back.

You think he may be developing a thing.

He keeps rocking against you, branding his shape into your backside. “God.” He mutters, pulling you up and sliding his knee between your thighs. You can’t speak, what with your brain rapidly losing function, but if you could you’d hiss your assent, maybe scream when the muscles of his thigh nudge against your clit.

Your lungs and cunt burn in unison, and the edges of your vision fade, but you want to keep going, want to come just like this, completely under his control, dry humping his massive thigh, unable to breathe.

Finally, you raise a shaky hand to tap at his forearm, and Simon immediately releases you, letting you stumble forward, off his leg and towards your desk. Your palms make contact with the polished wood and you hunch forward panting loud and hard. The room is fucking spinning, but all you can bring yourself to do is laugh like a fucking maniac.

“You good?” The soldier speaks, the sound of his footsteps just barely piercing through the sound of your rushing blood. Your voice is practically non-existent and you have to clear your throat three times, but when you do eventually croak out a response, your chest heaves with your desperate breaths in between your words.

“Yeah, fuck yes.” Your chest slowly loses that frantic, mounting pressure and when you turn your head to look at Simon over your shoulder, his eyes are unfathomably dark and narrowed, running laps over your legs, thighs and ass.

“Good. Take your scrubs off. Right now.”

#ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #ghost x black reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #simon ghost riley smut #kechiwrites #cod mw2 smut #cod fic #ghost x black!reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x black reader

2K notes · View notes

loveinhawkins · 10 months

Text

“Still super jealous as hell by the way,” Eddie says; Steve laughs, elbows him in the chest—disguising a want to touch by shoving him away.

There’s a brief flash of warmth against his skin before Eddie teeters back.

He stays close though, dances in and out of Steve’s space as they walk, almost close enough to…

“D’you know what’s adding an extra layer of, uh…” Eddie clicks his fingers then says with relish, “Of batshit insanity to everything?”

“No,” Steve says, and he feels a smile growing; he couldn’t fight it even if he tried. He doesn’t want to. “But I’m sure you’re gonna tell me.”

“My, uh. One of my favourite games as a kid was… uh well, it didn’t really have a name, it was more—”

“No jump rope for you?” Steve asks in mock surprise.

Eddie snorts. “Nah, nothing as normal as that, Harrington, honestly. Kid me was a visionary.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Steve says.

The words hover in the space between teasing and genuine; he means both, of course.

“At, um. When I was at my dad’s.”

Eddie’s smile flickers, and Steve tries to fill in the gaps: has vague memories of middle school halfway through one year, of murmured interest, you seen the new kid? He just moved here.

“Our place backed onto some woods, and I’d just… kinda wander.”

Eddie scoffs—his foot makes an aborted motion as he walks, like he’d gone to absentmindedly kick a twig and thought better of it.

Better safe than sorry, Steve thinks. Hive mind and all that.

“So your favourite game was wandering?” he prompts when Eddie goes quiet.

A tease again. Softer. Really means you can tell me. I want to know.

He wonders if Eddie can hear it.

“Well, when you put it like that, it sounds shit. And it was more, like, active up in…” Eddie taps his temple. “I’d just… uh. Pretend the woods were haunted, stuff like that.”

“Oh,” Steve says, amusement growing. “So all this,” he gestures to the vines and trees, to the fog creeping along the forest floor, “is real immersive for you, then. Got it.”

“Um, no,” Eddie says, and his voice is going up into that wobbly tone that only comes from suppressing genuine, ugly laughter. “The stuff in my head was gothic, Harrington. It had class.”

“God, man, I’m sorry. Is the alternate dimension not living up to your expectations?”

“I’m gonna make a complaint.”

“Yeah, do it in writing. Make it professional.”

“To whom it may concern,” Eddie starts, all comically snooty.

Steve laughs.

And Eddie’s up close again, grinning, and Steve presses the side of his forearm up against his chest; the moment lingers, until Eddie moves back, until Steve drops his arm a fraction too late.

“I’ve found the experience provided—”

Steve snorts. “Experience?”

“—thoroughly lacking in both atmosphere and charm. I expect appropriate compensation as soon as possible.”

“Tell you what,” Steve says, “show me a picture of your haunted woods when we’re outta here. I wanna see how they compare.”

“Um,” Eddie says through the tail end of a chuckle. He sounds embarrassed. “I don’t have… My dad, uh, he wasn’t exactly the kinda guy to take a lot of pictures, y’know?”

And Steve doesn’t know—or at least, he thinks he doesn’t.

What he does know is that in the back of a cabinet there’s an old baby book: he can tell exactly when his grandma first began to get sick—and when everything else went to shit—because the milestone entries stop a third of the way through.

He doesn’t mention it. He can’t find the words, not here, not now—even if he could, he’s worried it’d sound a clumsy, weak comparison at best, self-centred at worst.

So he waits. Feels when the abrupt silence becomes less heavy.

“Did you, like, do speeches to yourself in the game, too?”

Eddie gives him a sideways, bemused look. “Maybe.”

Steve pretends to mull it over. Nods. “Yeah, figures.”

A pause.

“Uh, hold on,” Eddie says, chuckling again, like he’s been surprised into it. “You can’t just leave it there, man, you—”

“Nah, it’s just.” Steve smothers a grin. “Just fits you, that’s all. Like, you would’ve dramatically narrated your own birth if you could, I know it.”

Eddie laughs hard; he nearly drops his flashlight.

“You’re funny,” he says eventually, still smiling.

“Oh, sorry,” Steve quips back, “was I not supposed to be? Ruined your doctrine again?”

“No, just—” Eddie laughs again. Sighs. “Just timing, man. Wish I was finding out in a more, uh, low stakes kinda way. Like…”

His eyes go a little far-off, and for a second Steve can see that kid in him, the one who kept himself company in his own imagination.

“Like we’re just walking past the lockers, or something.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, with probably more feeling than it strictly calls for. “Anything beats these goddamn vines.”

He could add that there is no ideal timing, really: that if there’s one thing he’s learned throughout all this, it’s that there’s hardly ever time to dwell on things. It’s more do or die.

Besides, he thinks, you could wait all your life for a perfect moment, and it still passes you—

The earth trembles.

Eddie sways; Steve lunges to the side so Eddie falls backwards, away from a nearby vine. He tries to plant his feet, realises he’s inevitably going down, too, and course corrects.

Falls.

Feels the rise and fall of Eddie’s chest against his hand.

“M’definitely filing that complaint,” Eddie says breathlessly.

He turns so he’s facing Steve. Stays close.

They’ve both dropped their flashlights. The effect is dazzling—Eddie’s face is illuminated, eyes bright.

No atmosphere, my ass, Steve thinks.

“You okay?” he murmurs.

“Y-yeah,” Eddie says—gasps, really. Steve feels how his breathing shakes.

There’s barely a disguise now; they’re both leaning in.

And for a moment, they’re not here at all; they’re just at school, hiding by the lockers.

Then again…

Maybe it could only happen here.

Maybe wandering—maybe everything—has been leading up to this: the moment before a chance taken.

#a mix between a missing scene & scene rewrite ❤️#the walk through the upside down woods #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #pre steddie

2K notes · View notes

elizais · 2 months

Text

when you know, you know.

when they realise just how much they love you ft: dazai, chuuya, jouno, sigma content warnings: reader isn't a hunting dog for jouno's button divider by v6que, dog divider by animatedglittergraphics-n-more

dazai knew he loved you, from the get go. but, it was a random tuesday when it hit him how much he loved you.

your favourite author was releasing a new book, you were buzzing about it all of last week and it would be released in your local bookstore on the same tuesday. you spoke about your excitement often as the day approached but when tuesday finally came, you were on an emergency mission in the neighbouring city.

you and ranpo were in kamakura for the day, ranpo solving a couple crimes and you stopping him from getting beat up by his lack of social cues.

when you found out you would miss getting the book, you were disappointed but masked it by saying "'i'll just order it and wait for it to ship, don't worry!" to your boyfriend, osamu. he saw right through it though and made a silent promise to himself to get it.

once his shift ended, he made kunikida drive him to the bookstore (you took the car to kamakura because of the mission). a long queue was stood outside the door but he knew he would have to endure it.

waiting the hour and a half to get in, he rushed past the crowd to grab the last hardback of the book that was beginning to drive him insane. when he stepped out after paying (with kunikida's card, of course) he saw it was absolutely pouring it down.

torrential rain all over yokohama. the paperbag he was carrying the before mentioned book in would not last a minute. checking his phone for how long it would take to wait it out, he saw that it was not an option. it would last all night and you would be worried sick about where he was when you get home in an hour or so.

so, he made the decision to take off his coat, and wrap it around the book. he began to run back to your shared home, it was on this run he realised how much he truly adored you.

his blue striped shirt clung to his body, his bandages so soaked they were beginning to fall down. he mentally cursed whatever god controlled the weather, joking to himself about making a mental note to get chuuya to pass on the message.

when he made it back, out of breath and drenched, he saw your car in the driveway. you were already home. you must have not been home for long because as when he opened the front door, you were only just getting changed. your hair was wet from the shower and you had the towel in your hands to partially dry it.

"hello, love!" he smiled, hair flat yet frizzy from the rain. his clothes sticking to his skin as his jacket was bundled in a ball under his arm.

"where were you, osamu dazai?" you pressed a kiss to his wet face, pretending to scold him by using his full name. you began putting a hand onto his hair and making it look even messier.

"well, if you must know.." he teased, "i had to pick something up." he watched your face light up in realisation at what he had done, gathering why he was soaking wet.

"no you didn't! 'zai, you did not." you gasped, switching his last name into the nickname only you were allowed to call him - even if you were one of the only people to be able to call him osamu. osamu only chuckling as he moved to place his jacket on the countertop of the kitchen, unravelling the ball.

he handed you the book and analysed your face as it contorted through pure excitement. "oh my god! 'samu i love you so so so much!!" you placed the book down and practically jumped into his wet body. your arms found their rightful spot, hugging around his neck and his arms around your waist.

"i love you so much too, but now we are both wet.." he faked a frown, unable to hold back his smile.

chuuya was always enamored with you. nothing less. but he particularly knew it when you were keeping an eye on elise.

he knew that this wasn't the most realistic thing in the world, her only being an ability after all. but even if she wasn't exactly real she always wanted to hang out with you, do your makeup, put hair clips in your hair.. and you never said no!

so when mori called chuuya to his office to discuss some paperwork, he knew you had been hanging out with elise as elise ran in to mori - dragging you along behind her.

"yes, and this was when-" chuuya was interrupted by two girls giggling after the sound of a door opening. "rintaro!! look at what [name] let me do!" elise smiled, urging you to spin around. you meekly smiled at chuuya in your dollified-by-a-child state. sheepishly spinning around, chuuya saw your new look.

hello kitty stickers on your face, bright blue lipstick smeared on your lips, sparkly barrettes throughout your hair and a dodgy braid to top it all off. mori chuckled at the sight, meanwhile chuuya stifled his laughter to not insult elise. mori nodded at elise, a silent 'well done' at her work, she took that as enough, but she wanted chuuya's reaction.

"mister nakahara? doesn't she look good?" elise asked your boyfriend, pulling you next to him. a shit-eating grin on the little girl's face.

chuuya smiled at the sight, "she's never looked prettier! you have done a great job, elise." elise put her arms on her hips proudly and smirked. "can i dress her up for your next date??? pleaseeee??" elise begged the pair of you.

before chuuya could answer, you turned to your boss, still a little bit awkward with barging in to his office.. "i'm so sorry, mori, please, let me get out of your hair!" you tried to apologise and leave with a bit of dignity before chuuya pulled you back. he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, an exaggerated "ewww!" coming from elise.

chuuya crouched down to elise's level, "sorry, you just made her look too pretty!"

everyone knew of jouno as a sadistic man. but for you something was different. when you first met him, he treated you with indifference. just another witness for a case that you were brought in to speak to the hunting dog's about.

but soon after, god knows how, you both started dating. whilst the hunting dogs had only met you when jouno had, they had no real idea of what the two of you were like.

but then, you come to their HQ again for who knows what, you instantly start teasing the man who teases everyone. a truly odd sight for his comrades.

quick pieces of flirting disguised as banter are chucked back and forth,

"your heart rate is through the roof." ... "like your ego?".

if they didn't know any better, they would have thought you hated each other.

when you two eventually stopped poking jabs at each other, you explained why you were there and gave jouno his lunch. a teasing "aww" from teruko came from across the room before jouno pinched your upper arm. you instantly pinched his shoulder back before taking a few steps back, trying to stop yourself from giggling at his frustrated face.

it was an odd scene to say the least, somehow, somewhere, a person existed that snuck her way into jouno's heart that could snatch his hat right off of his head, slap him with it... and he wouldn't be angry.

a person that tugged on his cape when stood behind him to annoy him, and started pinching wars with him.

saigiku didn't know when it happened, but it did. and he knew he loved you when you would relentlessly tease him back rather than giving in and letting him torment you like everyone else.

sigma had only been on this world for 3 years, yet he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his time on it with you the moment he saw you darting across the sky casino doing jobs on a busy week.

it was an abnormally busy time, and someone must have brought in a bug because sigma was not feeling well in the slightest. he was confined to his office and you promised him that you would get all of the manual/in person work done for him.

you had to beg him to let you do this for him, so he could rest. and it was all worth it when halfway through a day of signing paperwork he checked the cctv. a miniature, on screen you was helping out the customers of the casino, pushing boxes back and forth with your colleagues of course..

he realised just how much of a blessing you are. he felt as though his eyes were becoming heart shaped as he watched you, forgetting about the stack of papers he had to sign off.

an older woman approached you, too far away from the camera for him to make out what was being said but the both of you ended up sitting down at an empty table. the table was right by another camera so he could continue watching.

you reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out a deck of cards, sigma smiled to himself when he saw it was the fancy deck of cards you had stolen from nikolai as punishment for tormenting sigma. to be fair, nikolai must have stolen them from somewhere too.

sigma did begin to feel bad for watching you, even if there was no malicious intent behind it. he chuckled when he saw you demonstrating to the woman how to riffle shuffle cards, taking a break from your duties to entertain her.

he must have been enthralled by the scene for the better part of an hour as you patiently taught her magic tricks too. he could tell you had been learning from nikolai.

it was this simple moment that really made him fall for you, your kind nature being displayed perfectly.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu #osamu dazai #dazai x reader #chuuya nakahara #chuuya bsd #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #jouno saigiku x reader #bsd jouno #saigiku jouno #saigiku jōno #sigma bsd #bsd sigma #sigma x reader

563 notes · View notes

mattslutt · 2 months

Text

hate you

m.sturniolo

contains: forbidden love trope, enemies to lovers trope (kinda), secret relationship trope (kinda), sexual content, smut, dom!matt, fem!reader, unprotected sex (silly guys don’t do it)

I absolutely hated Matt, but every time I was close to him or he was close to me I felt goosebumps all over my body, him teasing me made it harder. I actually am in love with him. For some reason our parents hated that we were close in a way, mostly because my mom hated that Matt comes from a rich family and Matt’s dad hated that I wasn’t from a very rich family so they kept us apart.

It was a Friday evening and I was just chilling in my PJ’s, scrolling on my phone while blasting music. Out of the blue I get a message from Matt.

“What are you doing rn”.

“Nothing, why?”

“Look out through your window”

I groaned as I stood up from the bed and looked through my window, there was Matt. I texted him again.

“Why are you here?”

“Let’s hang”

“No”

“Fine by me, I’ll go hang out with Stacey then”

Stacey was my ex best friend, the friendship ended on bad terms due to her making out with my boyfriend, currently ex.

“Fuck you”.

“Is that a yes then?”

“Fine. Give me 10 minutes”.

I threw on a basic white shirt that showed little skin, jeans and some old conserves.

I opened my window and jumped out, my parents hate when I hang out with him, I promise I would stop so right now I keep all of this a secret.

Both of us started running away from my house so my parents wouldn’t suspect anything. We always had a hang out spot, on the roof of the building when you could see half of the city.

He brought alcohol for the both of us.

“Was this necessary?”

“Who said this was for you? All this is for me”, he teased.

I rolled my eyes sarcastically and grabbed a can from his hand. Matt just looked at me, he couldn’t take his eyes off of me.

“You make it impossible to stay away from you. Whatever I do, I just can’t.”

I looked at him and just stared at him. He got closer to me, I did too. He pressed his lips onto mine, kissing me passionately. I pulled back.

“We can’t”.

“Why?”.

“You know.”, I turned away.

“I don’t give a shit, I want you”, he said while pressing his thumb onto my face, making me look straight into his eyes.

I just sighted and laid down on the roof.

“How many times are we gonna do this? Pretending like we hate each other in public, the hooking up. Isn’t this driving you insane?”

Matt didn’t answer. He was just looking at the sky.

I got up a bit and got closer to him, leaning in to kiss him, he kissed me back, desperately. He depended the kiss, making me whimper into the kiss.

“I need you”, Matt whispered in between the kisses, his hands were on my waist, sliding into my jeans.

“Matt we can’t”, I whispered.

“It’s driving me insane that I can’t do this to you”.

“I know”.

We both got up and just sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Why does your dad care so much about money?”

“Why does your mom?”.

The silence washed over the both of us again.

“I think we should call this a night”.

“Yeah”.

We both walked home, him walking me to my house. As we reached it, he just kissed my forehead. I smiled at him and went inside, immediately after I walked into the house I got a text message from Matt.

“I had a wonderful time friend ;)”.

“I hate you”.

“I hate you too”.

The next day

It’s Saturday morning and I get a text message from Matt. Again.

“Party at my place 5pm. Bring a friend ;)”.

I immediately called my friend Brooke because she’s been with me the moment Stacey did me dirty, so who else would I bring?

I called her and she showed up whining fifteen minutes. Both of us were stressing cause we didn’t know what to wear. Out of the sudden she said.

“You need to wear something sexy so you would make out with Matt tonight.”

I looked at her and replied.

“Wasn’t planning on that”.

“The way you’re lying right now is funny. Here”, she threw her dress at me.

“Wear this”.

It was her favourite dress ever, she wouldn’t let anyone borrow that.

“It’s your favourite, I’m not wearing this”.

“Girl please, you’ll drive Matt crazy and that’s the idea for today”.

I sighted while smiling because I knew she was right, I did want attention from him. It was a black long dress with a cut out in the middle for the boobs, it had strips and also came with long black thin gloves. The dress also had a little cut out on the bottom for the legs to be more visible.

I let Brooke do my makeup, she was smiling the whole time.

“Why are you smiling?”.

“Because my closest friend is gonna hook up with Matt? About time you show yourself in public with him, enough with the hiding”.

“His dad hates me”.

“Well he’s not gonna be there so why are you worried?”

“I don’t know, yesterday we kissed and he admitted he wanted to fuck me”.

Her jaw dropped in excitement and she smiled even more.

“Even more reasons you should make out with him, or even more.”

“We will see”.

“I’m planning to fuck Chris”.

“Oh girl.”

Both of us started giggling.

At the party.

The party was huge, there were loads of people outside the house and inside the house. There were beer pongs, loud music, every alcohol liquid you know and just people screaming. We walked inside and both of us grabbed some drinks. There was a huge dance floor inside so we decided to join the people dancing there. We met new people and talked with them, it was fun to make new contact with new people.

Brooke dragged me out of the house to talk with people that were outside but most importantly she wanted to play beer pong. She saw Chris to one of the tables and she immediately ran to him. He smirked at her and gave her the ball and told her.

“Let’s see what you got”.

She didn’t miss the shot and everyone next to that table was cheering.

“Atta girl”, Chris teased her.

The smile on her face made me so so happy. I could imagine the butterflies that she’s feeling. After a while of playing beer pong me and Brooke went inside the house again. We were both tipsy. A lot of people were inside the house already, there were many people who were already drunk and people who were making out.

Brooke stood next to me and teasingly said.

“Find Matt so you would do that right now”.

I smiled at her and my eyes were searching for Matt, I saw him, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was making out with some random girl that I have never seen in my life. My heart dropped. I turned to look at Brooke, she was flirting with Chris, I dragged her away for a moment.

“The idea with Matt is not happening”.

“Huh, why?”

I tilted my head and waited for her to notice. She noticed and she was pissed.

“Girl, fuck him”.

“This has two meaning right now”, I tried laughing it off.

“The second meaning”, she rolled her eyes and gave me a hug. I was happy that Brooke was always there for me. I let her hang out with Chris. I was walking around the house and I saw someone I didn’t wanna see. It was Matt’s dad. When he saw me, it seemed like his eyes were burning with fire and anger.

He walked up to me and harshly yelled.

“What are you doing here?”

“I got invited, do you have a problem?”

“Yes. You are the problem. Who the hell invited you?”.

I looked over at Matt for a second, he was already standing alone and he was staring at us, he was pissed and furious. I saw him walking up to us slowly so I was relieved.

“Are you gonna answer me?”

I snap back to reality and realise I’m still talking with his father.

“Matt invited me.”

His eyebrows furrowed.

“What the hell is he doing with a girl like you? I thought we told you to stay away from him”, he grabbed my wrist and held it, he squeezed me and shook me. I was terrified.

Matt walked up to him and aggressively threw his grip off of me.

“Leave her alone”.

“Why did you invite her, son?”

“Cuz she’s my friend”.

Matt and I made eye contact, knowing he lied.

“Why are you here?”

“I just wanted to see what’s happening in the party, I’ll leave now”.

“Yeah, you should. I don’t wanna see you”.

“We’re gonna have a talk later.”

“I don’t care”.

His father started at him angrily and left the house. Matt sighted in relief.

He looked at me and grabbed me by the arm, he walked me upstairs and locked the door behind us. He was stressed a bit but mostly tensed.

“You know I would have handled that myself.”

“No the fuck you wouldn’t. You were shaking. He despises you. You should be glad I walked up to you on time”.

Once again, the uncomfortable silence washed us again.

“You’re right, I’m sorry”.

He just looked at me with a confused expression.

“So do you wanna explain why you’re so pissed off at me?”

I sarcastically sigh and reply.

“Why am I pissed at you?”

“Yeah..”

“Ask the girl that was sticking her tongue in your mouth ten minutes ago”.

“We’re suppose to hate each other. You said and I quote “Matt, we can’t do this”.

“You know, I’m starting to give less of a fuck what our families think”.

He just stood there and looked at me with those eyes. Those god damn eyes that made me weak in the knees.

“Don’t do that”, I said firmly. “Don’t look at me like you’re turned on.”

“But I am”, he shrugged.

“You hate me, remember?”

“You hate me too,”.

I felt my heart beating, he was walking closer to me, he was taller than me so he needed to look down a bit. He put his thumb on my chin looking at me. This was the last straw for me, I couldn’t hold in it anymore. I leaned in and kissed him, hungrily, desperately. He was giving the same energy back but twice more than I was. He lifted me up and walked me over to his bed. He softly laid me down.

“May I?”.

I nodded, and he began unzipping my dress and taking off the gloves. Once it was on the ground and I was left with a bra and a thong he just stood there.

"jesus," he chokes out. he’s desperate.

He leaned in to kiss you, he unclipped your bra. Both of you switched places so you would be on top. He deepened the kiss as your hands slid under his shirt, making him whimper into the kiss.

"i really fucking wish i could resist you right now."

“Well don’t.”, I whispered into his ear, taking off his shirt and unzipping his pants. He was huge, knowing you were way shorter than him and the way he was way taller than you.

He just smirked at me, grabbing my wrist carefully and dragging me closer to him, he kissed me again and laid me on my back. He placed himself between my thighs, removing my thong, teasing me with his fingers around my clit.

“Fuck”, I whimper out.

“Shhh. Let me.”

As those words left his mouth he dived into my wet soaking cunt. He circled around his tongue in circles, adding his fingers for more pressure I moaned loudly, digging my fingers into his hair, I’m pretty sure people would hear my moaning even through the load music but I didn’t care at this point. Matt was not stopping. I was so close already to my climax.

“I can feel you holding ma, let it go”.

I release my climax, he licks all of the juices off of his fingers. He pulled me into a kiss making me taste my juices with my salvia.

“I need to feel you”, Matt whispered while kissing me.

“I laid on my back spreading my legs for him.

“Fuck”, he breathed out heavily, aligning himself to me, as he entered me I moaned loudly, Matt shoving his fingers into my mouth. He hit my g-spot every-time which made me moan loudly. He took the fingers out of my mouth because I was looking away. He turned my face so my gaze would be on him.

“I want you to look at me when I fuck you”.

“I hate you.”, I stuttered out while he was pounding into me.

“Yeah? Turns me on.”, he smirked at me while tilting his head going down on my neck while pounding into me even more.

I was a moaning mess, tears were forming.

“I’m so so close”.

“Me too. Just a little longer”.

Matt rammed into me which made me gasp loudly.

“Fuck”, he moaned out, ramming into me again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck”, I breathed out.

He rammed into me one last time as he released his climax, all over me. I breathed out heavily as I laid on my back. He collapsed next to me, smirking at me while playing with my hair.

“So what are we”, I teased him.

“Enemies who fuck in secret”, I looked at him with an angry expression.

“Fuck you.”

“You want round two?”, he teased.

I looked at him with an annoyed expression, he got up and kissed my forehead.

“I’m just fucking with you. I love you. A lot. And I want us to be official, in public too. I don’t care what our families think”.

“I love you too Matthew.”

____________________________________________

guys im actually so proud of this🥲🥲. I really hope y’all will like it. Please show love and support I love you all. I don’t want this to flop. Let me know if you like it I MIGHT make this a series. MIGHT.

tag list. @gamermattsgf @sturncrazy @sturniolosstar @sturnsblunt @westwiing13 @mbbsgf @hoesformatt @thepubeburgler @7tee3n

#matt sturniolo #matt x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #forbbiden love #enemies to lovers #secret relationship #smutty smut smut #smut #fanfic #fanfiction #mattslutt

450 notes · View notes

barefoothighlander · 11 months

Note

The way you write ghost and like a specific reader is so good it has me going insane, on that I just read the cottage one where Simon admits to himself he loves sweet things and would it be possible to get a baker reader x Simon, with him often comming because he's hooked on their desserts but also how fine they are

something sweet

this is possibly one of my FAV tropes, thank you!!

warnings: fluff, gn pronouns, mutual pining, mentions of food throughout, ooc!ghost, kissing, not proofread

People always assumed Ghost ate purely for nutrients, the majority of the meals he consumed on base or in the field involving all four food groups, centred on protein. The truth was he had to stop himself every day from eating entire sleeves of cookies, his favourite being the bourbon biscuits that his mum used to buy.

He had an insatiable sweet tooth, always having loads of sugar in his tea, sneaking into the mess late at night to steal sweets from the kitchen, if you were to search his pockets you’d find wrappers for candy littered throughout them.

He was less restrained when he came home, often buying some sort of treat to pair with his tea when he’d visit a cafe, he’d gone for a walk that morning and decided to explore a few shops, stumbling across a bakery that he’d never been into.

It wasn’t even a question of should he go in, the scent of baked goods wafting from the open door as he looked through the window, trays lined with pastries and cakes, he was practically salivating at the sight of them.

He felt out of place in the cafe, his eyes falling in various couples having coffee together, a few others set up with their laptops as they picked at their food.

“What can I get for you?”

He didn’t intend for the interaction to be awkward, he’d never stumbled over his own words but the sight of you, hair messy, sleeves rolled up, a mess of flour sprinkled over your apron as your wide eyes and bright smile looked back at him had him frozen.

“You look like a tea guy, earl grey?”

How could you possibly know that? He moves closer to the counter, doing his best to make his stride less intimidating as he approaches you.

“How’d you know?”

“Get a lot of customers, I’ve gotten pretty good at knowing what people like”

Heat flushed his cheeks under his balaclava, his eyes nervously moving from your face to the display beside him.

“What do you recommend”

You follow his line of sight, pursing your lips as you think over the options,

“The muffins are good, chocolatines are a favourite, personally I’m partial to the biscuits”

“Which kind?”

“Bourbons are my favourite, the empires are a close second”

He hums in response, “Those are my favourite”

“You have good taste”

He moves his gaze back to you, “I like to think so”

You huff a small laugh, your fingers tapping against the counter as you lose yourself for a moment in his dark eyes.

“So earl grey and some bourbons”

“Sounds perfect”

You swallow a lump in your throat, biting back a smile as you move to collect his order, you toss a few biscuits into the bag, placing the tea bag in a cup before pouring the hot water on top, capping it and handing the pair to him.

“I threw in a few other things I thought you’d like”

“That’s very kind”

His fingers brush against yours as he takes the items from you, the contact making the hairs on your neck stand up. You drop your gaze nervously, smoothing your hair before turning back to him,

“Have a nice day” You stop your sentence abruptly, your eyes squinting slightly at him,

"Simon"

"Have a nice day Simon"

It was less than 24 hours before he was back, strutting through the front doors, oblivious to the various shared glances between other customers, his sights dead set on you.

"Back so soon?"

"How'd you know?"

"Know what?"

"Those extras you gave me yesterday, that raspberry thing and those little chocolates, how'd you know I'd like them"

"I didn't really, just a guess, they're my favourites"

"You have good taste"

"I'd hope so, I'm the one that makes them"

In a moment of realization, he looks around, there's no one else behind the counter, no noises from the kitchen, it really is just you there.

"You own the shop"

"For two years now"

"That's impressive"

You tilt your head down to hide the flush on your cheeks, smiling, "I have something for you"

"You made me something?"

"Was hoping you'd be back"

It's his turn to hide his face, even behind his mask he's scared you'd see the pink tint to his skin, the way his eyes crinkle at the edges, you push a small tray toward him, a cup of tea paired with an assortment of treats.

"I am supposed to stay in shape"

"C'mon, try them" You nudge the tray a little closer

"Only if you eat them with me"

"Deal"

You turn to grab an extra fork, resting your elbows on the table as you portion off a piece of the small pastry in front of you, careful to create the perfect bite,

"Wait, you need to get some of the jam"

"You're telling me how to eat?"

"It has to be perfect"

You use your fork to push some jam onto his piece, nodding to yourself in satisfaction, he takes a quick glance behind him to see if anyone is watching before lifting his mask just slightly, revealing his lips, your eyes linger on them for a little too long, the soft arch of them, their plush pink tint.

"This is amazing"

His praise breaks your trance, your hand covering your mouth as you smile, hiding the food inside it, "I told you"

"You're right, I'll never doubt you again"

You let out a giggle and this time he can't hide his smile, a small dimple forming beside his lips as they curve, you could watch him smile all day.

"This might be strange but, what are you doing later," You ask with a breath of confidence,

"Working off all this sugar you're feeding me"

"What about you skip the workout and meet me here at seven?"

"I'd like that"

You bite back a smile, "Great"

You pack the remaining treats in a small bag, handing it to him before bidding him goodbye, your senses focused solely on him, completely ignorant of the line of customers forming in front of your eyes.

It's a panicked few hours around the cafe, rushing to fill orders, tidying the kitchen, and attempting to find time to fix yourself up before Simon arrived.

The bell atop the door rang at 6:53, apparently, he was insistent on being early, he calls out for you, your voice echoing from the kitchen as he makes his way behind the counter.

"Hey, you're early"

"You're a mess" His eyes scan over your flour-clad form, your hair a mess as your palms dig into a circle of dough.

"Had to get some orders done before tomorrow, wanna help?"

"Not sure how good I'll be"

"Please, I could use your muscles"

"Alright," He rolls his sleeves up his arm, revealing his tattoo before reaching behind him to grab an apron, securing it around his form. You erupt in a fit of laughter as you turn your gaze to him,

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing just, never pictured you in an apron covered in tulips and daisies"

"You saying it looks bad?"

"No, you look perfect," You say, fighting back your laughter, "Okay, grab a piece and start pushing it with your palms, just like this" You demonstrate the move to him, his curious eyes watching intently as you knead the dough, sprinkling bits of flour on it.

"Got it" He places a circle of dough on the table, dropping some flour onto it before digging his palms in, quickly turning to you with worried eyes as his hand forces a hole in the centre.

"Maybe not so tough, try like this" You position yourself next to him, your sides pressing against each other as you rest your hands atop him, guiding them into the dough, your gentle fingers intertwining with his.

"Got it?"

He shakes his head lightly, "I think you need to show me again"

You laugh lightly, the sound warming his chest as you slowly release your touch, urging him to work, "That's better, I have to make some icing so I'll be over there for a minute"

You move from his side, wiping your hands on your apron before standing in front of the large mixer, he watches as you struggle to lift the large bag of powdered sugar, dropping his task to help you. He lifts the bag with ease, watching as you release a small breath of gratitude,

"Wait not all at... once" Your instructions come too late, he dumps the entire bag into the bowl, a cloud of sugar enveloping the room as you drop your head in laughter.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know"

You raise your hands, palms to the roof as you smile, "It's okay, kinda looks like snow"

"Kind of"

His gaze softens as you close your ears, tilting your neck back and slightly sticking your tongue out, allowing the sugar to settle on the muscle, the sweetness dancing over your tastebuds.

You smile, lifting your head back up and opening your eyes, he's watching you with such adoration in his eyes, his heart swelling out of his chest, he'd never met anyone that maintained such a wonder in themselves, you were so warm, so kind, he'd always been punished for mistakes but the sight of you unknowingly creating a happy memory out of one of his mishaps has his brain rewiring.

He doesn't think, just reaches for you, one hand lifting his mask while the other grabs at your waist, tugging you into him, his lips crash into yours as if his addiction to sweets wasn't enough, you literally tasted like sugar, he couldn't get enough. His free hand moving to cup your jaw, his thumb swiping over the skin as you press yourself into him, your gentle hands settling around his arms as he holds you close.

It's intoxicating, his taste, his scent, tobacco, vanilla, and sugar, you had managed to escape the consequences of a sweet tooth until now, this was a taste you'd never get sick of.

He pulls back with a heavy breath, his chest rising against yours as he rests his forehead against yours, that beautiful smile beaming back at you as your flesh ignites under his touch.

"Kiss me like that again and I'll give you all the baked goods you want"

He lets out a laugh, a genuine laugh, one he hasn't heard in years before pressing his lips to yours again, smiling against your skin as the sugar settles around the two of you, cloaking the room in a soft white dust.

#cod mw x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod mw2 #simon riley fluff #mw2022 #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader

1K notes · View notes

bitchimasnake-sss · 6 months

Text

"have i ever told you i love you?" ft. monster trio

silly goofy headcannon with my favourite idiots of all time <3

ft. luffy, zoro and sanjiii x GN reader

set-up: you've been them for quite a while but the "three magical words" have been off-limits (until today ig?)

luffy:

he was munching on a piece of meat (again) after having successfully begging sanji for forty minutes (and enduring two kicks)

literally, his mouth is full, there's crumbs on his cheek and through it all, he says "hey, have i ever told you i love you?" (with a smile as big as the one in the gif)

you almost choke on air, cause who the fuck asks it like that?

"i mean, no. not really?" your face is hot and you cannot decide if its a blush creeping up your face cause he is telling you he loves you or if its second hand embarrassment because hes admitting he loves you with face stuffed with meat.

atleast he looks cute tho? (take a win where you can lmao)

"huh? i haven't?" his brows are furrowed together, and just for a moment his focus isn't on his food.

"yeah" you sheepishly admit, giving into the warmth spreading across your cheeks

"okay" motherfcker just shrugs.

he's back to munching again. like he just shrugged and went back to eating. like he was asking what day it was and not confessing his love. what a fucking idiot????? how do you love him ur so confused?????

"that's all you have to say?" you're about to commit homicide.

"yeah?" then through a bite, he says "i do love you though."

and nvm, maybe the homicide can wait another day because right now you're busy ignoring the shit-eating grin that spreads across your lips.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

zoro:

mf is drinking (like always)

and obviously, it takes quite a lot to take him down enough for him to say stupid shit

and even on the days he does drink quite a lot, he just falls asleep and wakes up with a shitty hangover and even shittier attitude

but on the days he doesn't fall asleep, well let's say it's a whiplash inducing experience

"hey" gulping down the last of his sake, his speech is as slurred as a swordsman can possibly get. you don't blame him, i mean it's been a rough couple of days after all, maybe he needs the booze to cope.

"mhm?" you're equally under the influence (if not more)

"have i ever told you i love you?"

yeah, that shit straight up sobers you up

"what?"

"have i told you that i love you?" he repeats, without any hesitancy at all.

this stoic bitch (who took 2 business weeks to finally hold your hand in public after you got together) is asking this question, absolutely unfazed.

for a second you wonder if the alcohol is making you hallucinate (can alcohol do that? probably not)

"did the alcohol make you go deaf?" still fucking unfazed.

"...no? you haven't" your voice is shaky, still confused if you're fucking hallucinating

"oh, well then i should let you know." and he gives you a classic, soft smile "i love you."

and then he passes out. he doesn't even bother hearing your reply.

yeah, next day you're furiously blushing every time you think about him and the words he said, meanwhile this stupid human being doesn't even remember. he is giving you weird looks and asking you if you feel okay because your face looks very red. and maybe you should ask chopper for help.

well, i mean atleast you remember what he said.

drunk words are sober thoughts afterall hehe

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

sanji:

a fucking gentleman!!!

actually the only one who had made a fucking plan to confess his love to you. he's a romantic dude (he just sucks at execution)

the entire day before, he is a wreck. he cannot hold eye-contact with you for more than two seconds, his food doesn't exactly taste as it always does (why is there salt in place of sugar sanji are you okay??), he is lost in his thoughts and giggling whenever left unsupervised

jesus lawd, this man is whipped

meanwhile you're out here wondering if he is going insane or getting terminally sick. you're not alone cause the entire crew is thinking the same

maybe you guys should ask chopper to take a look at him??

it's evening, the sun is going down and you're standing at the deck, admiring the view

everything seems perfect. then he taps on your shoulder and you turn around to a furiously blushing sanji with his hand behind his back

"sanji?" you gingerly place a hand on his shoulder, "are you okay? you have been acting a little weird all day"

"i- uh"

he fumbles for two whole minutes. nami counted (she told you at dinner later).

then after receiving a confused look from you, he finally blabbers it all in like one breath.

"yn ln you have made me the happiest man on earth and if you would please accept this bouquet, i would be grateful. would you please go on a date with me?"

the date was in your room, the room had been cleaned, he had cooked your favourite meal, he had got your favourite flower and although the whole ordeal had started rather awkwardly, you cannot help but feel giddy as he serves you desert

"say yn," he is blushing again, "have i told you i love you"

you snort out the desert.

sanji almost performed heimlich

when you're good again, you say, "no, you haven't actually."

"then you should know, i love you. more than anyone can ever imagine."

yeah you pray to god every night for this magnetic force of a fucking man. you must have been a good person in your last life.

perfect man, husband material, 10/10

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

#one piece #op #opla #monkey d. luffy #one piece zoro #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #one piece sanji #sanji #sanji x reader #zoro x reader #one piece luffy #monkey d luffy #luffy x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece men #monster trio

800 notes · View notes

darkbluekies · 18 days

Note

I am not sure if you have done it already but:

Yandere x affection-starved Black Sheep darling?

Hear me out: a darling who is so used that their golden child sibling takes everything from them, from nice clothing/stuff to dates with potential partners. The sibling just steals everything away. And the parents only praise the sibling but never darling. Whenever bad something happened, darling is the one who gets to blame.

Neglected, traumatised and emotionally deprived they meet the yanderes, 100% believing they are just "interested" in them bc they want their sibling and are absolutely convinced & annoyed by their shows of affection (when in fact they are just scared to be hurt which always had been the case before).

Saying stuff like "Y'know, why dont you ask them directly? Stop using me to get closer to them!" And are absolutely puzzled by the reaction, when yan stress that they dont want anything from their relative. They want their darling.

And proceed to be persistent on that statement until darling believes them.

Well, basically this 👇🏼

I absolutely LOVE this kind of dynamic ♡^♡

Not only would all of them DESPISE the sibling (and the rest of the family) for beating their darling this much down, that darling does not have the heart to trust and love - including themselves - anymore, but are on edge to wipe them off from the face of earth. I say on edge because:

It would be too easy just to kill them. No. They have to suffer at first.

The most fun part: all yanderes have some sort of power / & wealth, which appeals the siblings (bc they are basic beaches) and try to seduce and snatch them away from darling like they always used to. And yanderes noticing, pulling strings to slowly but surely for the sibling to fall into insanity and ruin them once and for all.

Dr. Kry, my most favourite boy (Bonus: affectionate!cured!Darling x yan!Dr as it just fits 🤌🏻✨ to my favourite ship dynamic like a glove✨🤌🏻 that picture above🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻)

Dr. Kry would be on a whole new level of persistence and pettiness. You thought he was controlling, manipulative and unhinged 100%? Make it 200% :)

I can imagine how he would look down at the sibling when they show up to "visit their little troublemaker", showing themselves off, bragging how good they are "to come by" (however they never seem to ask to see darling directly though) and proceed to claim that darling is just overly dramatic and should "give you a break, and you shouldn't believe everything what they say. They just making it up". Laughing behind the back of darling's "sickness".

Remember that bloodphobia thoughts I have written? Yeah, imagine the rage if our beloved Dr. Kry finds out that the sibling is the key reason who triggered the phobia in the first place. Like humiliation in front of the class when darling got their first time period and sibling "pranked" them by lying to them that they are dying or sm HOMAGOSH HE WOULD BE SO MAD >:D

After finally persuading darling that he loves obsesses about them and not and never anyone else, month after month reassuring his likeness to darling, (Dr. Kry, a patient man) they start dating once darling surprisingly gets better after startint to believe him.

As a well-respected doctor and a rich man (I mean to remember you said he hardly spended his money, thus posessing goods) their sibling tries to seduce him but he shuts them down every time. In front of darling, in front of family, in front of everyone, in a humiliating way. Absolutely no f*cks given that he is talking to the "golden child". Then he starts to pull on the strings really hard. From making their sibling's wedding/relationships plans cancel to destroying their career and material possessions. But no one would suspect them bc Dr. Kry had taken care of it and happily cut ties off between darling and their obnoxious family already before.

His little one will never have to suffer anymore. And they gradually heal. With him on their side. Forever.

He would definitely have a saviour complex in this AU lol

Blue, what are you doing lately? HOW are you doing? I wish you a wonderful day my dear and hope you enjoyed my thought process again ^*^ 💕

(btw, I am fine. Really, without sarcasm, I come from a very loving family with a wonderful supporting sibling lmaoooo. So, pls don't worry XD As a fellow overthinker I feel the need to clear that hah~

Just loooove the creepy but strangely endearing vibes of these relationships lol There's just something catchy about them right???) And your OCs are just.... so FUN TO EXPLORE???!!! Like OMG, I love them and your stories all so. much! It really gives me motivation and kicks me into writing AGAIN after so many damn years of writer's block (but oc x oc. I find reader perspective strange ngl) even though I am not very strong in writing xD I write. But not that good...

Anyway take care of yourself and have a great week! 🤭❤

Byeeeee~

Fun fact about the black sheep concept: I actually have a black sheep character. Check out the 'Secrets' oneshot and you will see how Ares talks about Silas🤭 but a black sheep yn could also be quite cool???

I love how you wrote Kry, that's so cool to think about. He would 100% go out of his way to ruin your siblings life after everything they've deprived you off!! Doesn't he already have a savior complex? A white knight complex? At least a little? This is probably one of the few times there will be a happy ending with Kry lmaooo

What I'm doing lately? I am taking an 5h 20min test this Saturday (the entirety of it is 8h 50 min including breaks) so that's not very fun, but I think that my life is slowly starting to get better. I think that my legs are starting to heal from my injury, I have saved up money and my best friend comes home next week!! She moved to Germany 3 years ago. I miss her so much, we have been friends for 11 years and she has always taken care of me. She's the type to give me her jacket if I say that I'm cold and to warm my hands under her shirt. Only princess behavior here🥰

Haha don't worry, I'm the same. I'm a big overthinker (its better now though) who comes from a loving family, but youre right about that there's just something so interesting about yanderes lmao. Thank you so much foe liking them, I love to create characters that really feel human, because they make rhe story feel more alive that way!!

I totally get that you mean by oc x oc, moat of my private stories are that way, bur oc x you works better for Tumblr which is why these stories have that format!! Normally I write in 3d person with a fixed main character!

Please please write and show me!!! Feel free to reach out if you ever need some writing advice!! I'm not professional, but sometimes it's nice to just bounce thoughts with someone else<3

#missmerymoon #yandere doctor #yandere oc

212 notes · View notes

crepesuzette2023 · 5 months

Note

Hi! Because someone just asked me, I'd love you hear your Top 5 favourite McLennon fics!

You made my day! Nothing could have made me happier than this ask.

I'm not going to evade your question. I will post my top-five, even though it hurts to choose. But you inspired me to finally write a longer (okay: very long) post about some (not nearly all!) of my favorites, which will be under the cut.

(Sorry for not knowing every writer's tumblr, by the way. Please feel free to let me know, so I can tag authors where appropriate. Thank you!)

My Top 5:

MIRACLE WORKER by @scurator. What can I say. Every time I need my heart broken and to feel an inkling of what grace truly means, I go to this masterpiece about Paul and Robert Fraser finding each other again at Cavendish in 1981.

COAST STARLIGHT by bookofapril is "Miracle Worker's" cosmic twin. The sun to its night. Paul and Robert Fraser on Fire Island in 1974. Nothing I can say will do it justice, so I won't try. This is the "other world" conjured in "Tug of War," so powerfully and joyfully imagined, it's real. (I'm always thinking of this story, but I did so extra hard when I came across a prompt recently: 'They aren't each other's first love, but they're each other's true love'.)

SAME AS IT EVER WAS by RedheadAmongWolves. My favorite Outsider's POV. An ageing newsstand owner from Liverpool remembers John and Paul as boys and young men. There's something magical about the relationship coming alive in these glimpses. A story filled with tenderness that reminds me to always look closely.

AN ORGASM OF SOUND by @pauls1967moustache. The insanity of John and Paul in 1967 got the tribute it deserves. I sleep easier since I read this story. It feels cosmically right that it exists.

PLANT A SEED by @eveepe. Paul in his slutty sailor outfit in Miami. He and John are into each other, and happy, and fuck slowly. Afterwards, Paul has an idea for a new song. That's it. Tender, glorious, hot perfection. Apply at least once a week for best results.

For more thoughts about some of my favorite stories, sorted into very much defined-ad-hoc categories, read under the cut.

Young Love:

I love the myth of their first meeting, and stories that speculate about the sexually loaded creative fireworks/gritty jealousies/tentative hand-holding/topping and tailing during the first years. Here are some faves:

Paul finds music, and John, and his life is changing. In STREETS OF OUR TOWN (@with-eyes-closed) you can taste the upheaval and promise of first love and growing up. Deeply sensual, even without on-page sex. The shaky, sweet, and all-consuming fire of John and Paul’s first kiss is immortalized in ALL I KNOW SINCE YESTERDAY (RedheadAmongWolves). In NON NOBIS SOLUM (@downtothe-lastdrop), art student John simply has to know how far grammar school boy Paul will go to please him. But Paul matches him play-by-play. In THE CAST IRON SHORE (@m1ssunderstanding) Paul earns extra money through music and sex. John finds out. They fall in love, and hide their mutual pining behind transactions—but in the end, they man up to pair up, and get their band back on track. (The first part is finished; I can’t wait for part 2.) John and Paul’s ’61 trip to Paris has been honored in fiction many times; WHEN YOU ARE YOUNG THEY ASSUME YOU KNOW NOTHING (@lilypadd23) is a slow-burning, blessedly long story that blossoms sweetly. DON’T THINK ABOUT IT is the concept by which Paul measures both his pining for John and their deeply satisfying (but surely not really queer?!) sex life. Perfectly realized Paul POV by @merseydreams. Finally: I NEED YOU DARLIN’ (verse) (by @beatlessideblog) would have fit many categories, but I put it here, because in the end, it’s about young John and Paul becoming friends, making music, having sex, and falling in love. No more, no less. Embedded in a late 50’s/early 60's Liverpool omegaverse in which there's a place for their bond. But, surprise (?!): It’s still complicated. I can’t overstate how charming and satisfying and funny and hot this work is.

Old John and Paul:

Is there anything as lovely as imagining John and Paul growing old together?

In HERE TODAY (@herspecialagent), John and Paul found happiness with each other in Scotland. On 8th December 1980, they invite friends for a party, and fight an inexplicable sense of doom. A reminder that our other lives can be closer than we think, and to keep our loved ones even closer.

GROW OLD WITH ME (@inherownwr1te): Old farmers and husbands John and Paul enjoy domestic bliss, deal with a broken arm, and make sweet love.

HAVING COFFEE (@feathersandblue): John Lennon and Paul McCartney, “one of the most iconic gay couples in history,” look back on their early love, the Beatles, and being outed in the 80’s, in this oh-so-glamourous, well-written 2020 portrait…

Magical re-tellings of J/P and/or the Beatles Story:

No matter where you come down on the blessed vs. cursed continuum—they were living through something magical.

In KISSING THE BLARNEY (@zilabee) the Beatles draw love and music from kissing Paul, and each other, until the stupid world interferes. But fear not, all ends well. How to tell the truth through whimsy: this story demonstrates it.

In WE ARE ALL TOGETHER (also by @zilabee), John and Paul switch bodies. It helps.

I WAS A YOUNGER MAN NOW (THEN) (POST HOC) BY @fingersfallingupwards: Paul is a time traveler and braids his life together with John’s, out of order, through the years. And yes, they do grow old together—but not without losing each other first. I’m in awe of this story.

A darker time-traveling story is A MATTER OF TIME (D12Fan), in which John and Paul love each other, over and over, and never manage to make it work—but Paul won’t give up.

FOR THOUGH THEY MAY BE PARTED (@downtothe-lastdrop): The misery of the 'Get Back' sessions and memory-stunting technology imported from “Severance” are not enough to kill off John and Paul’s attraction and longing for each other. Again, this is basically what happened, so.

John and Paul without the Beatles?

Yes, please! Sometimes, the best way to dissect and celebrate (and fix?) this mesmerizing and exasperating partnership is to lift it from its context and drop it elsewhere. Anything goes.

WHATEVER FATE DECREES by @dailyhowl: A gorgeous, finely spun, securely handled, self-contained vision of how John and Paul could have worked as artists in love, without a band to 'legitimize' and constrain their bond. I love this homage to their deep and complicated love that needed trust and breathing room.

1967 by @walkuntilthedaylight: What if John and Paul had gone to Spain together and not come back? This story not only explores their relationship layer by layer, it also dives into the the feelings of those who knew them 'before' and who now meet them again, as a couple. A fascinating alternate history. Not a fluffy one.

TOMORROW I'LL MISS YOU (@pauls1967moustache): Paul abandons John in Hamburg—or John stays behind without bothering to write, depending on who you ask. This "Before Sunset"—AU reunites them, years later. They ride a bus and write a song, and the love and tension are sweet and painful.

DOUBLE FANTASY (by @javelinbk): Modern AU in which John and Paul meet at John's flower shop and manage to ignore and creatively re-interpret their feelings for one another for a surprising amount of time, before fate has mercy. I love how their sweet, well-matched eccentricity makes the world a warmer place for both of them.

WE ARE STARDUST (Unchained_Daisychain): AU. John and Paul meet at Woodstock, fall hard and fast for each other, and have to decide what to do with it: Paul's life is back home in England...except...

Angst, darkness, and courage:

Pain, fear, grief, and other dark emotions are part of the real J/P story, so it makes sense to honor and harvest them in fiction. One of my favorite brands of McLennon angst is the one triggered by their feelings for each other, and the thing they become once they're together™. When they're scared of how much they need each other, and of what will happen next.

ONE AND ONE AND ONE IS THREE and MANAGING EXPECTATIONS (both by @pauls1967moustache), for instance. The first is a terrifying threesome with Yoko (at John's instigation, of course), in which trust is never rewarded and sex resolves nothing. The second is Paul wondering, in thoughts both messy and crystal clear, whether he exists independently of John. He turns to Brian for answers. They fuck. It feels like a human thing compared to what is going on in Paul's mind. Just astounding.

SUNDAY DRIVER (@boshemians) dives into the theme of Paul and John being afraid of themselves in the aftermath of Paul's accident (moped, sexual) with Tara Browne. This one, like "Managing Expectations," ends on a lovely grace note.

MACABRE (@dovetailjoints). Lennon and McCartney go too far.

OPEN HEART (@paisanas). Paul drinks John's blood. John lets him. But Paul starts to hate himself for how much he needs John, which John feels as rejection. I love how this story ends on Paul embracing his need. You can see the painful, bare bones of their malnourished love under the lush sensuality of the vampire sex. Raw and rich.

SILENCE (@ohjohnnysblog). Short and piercing. If there is someone you love—tell them. Don't wait.

THE LATE, GREAT JOHNNY ACE (@midchelle). Reeling with grief, Paul is recording an album in 1981. George and Ringo are there. John is not. But in the end—he is. And they touch. I've always admired Paul's resilience in the face of having to perform or "prove" his love of John in public, and this story showed me, without sugar-coating, where this resilience comes from.

Light, hope, and fixing things:

There is also much lightness and brightness in McLennon, because John and Paul were ridiculous, and horny, and weird. And also: they deserve a laugh. They deserve the fluffiest of happy endings. They deserve high-quality, life-affirming smut. They deserve silly, because silly is what they were. You know their names, look up their number.

1980. John is in BERMUDA (@scurator), Paul visits. Paul comes prepared, John just comes. Sometimes, it can be this simple. This story always leaves me in such a good mood. Paul is the (more) experienced one, and it...really works for me.

GOT TO GET DOWN (@eveepe): In praise of John's obsession with Paul's...precious. His small and perfect prick.

ADVENTURES IN TOTAL HONESTY (@merseydreams). Pithy and sexy, and, I quote from the tags: #Excessive Margarita Mixing.

ANINUT (@pauls1967moustache): The Beatles heal, together and separately, after Brian's death. Once more, I quote the writer: "The Beatles did not follow any of the Jewish mourning traditions, and frankly, they should have."

The unhinged weirdness of the Mad Day Out, with John and Paul escaping and Francie, Yoko and Mal not missing them...much, is rightfully celebrated in one of the insaner stories I read: JOHN, I'M ONLY DANCING (@skylikeaflame)

FAIR'S FAIR (@javelinbk): John and Paul are being silly during a press conference, resulting in acute arousal requiring John's skilled intervention. I love the unexpected care and tenderness in this one!

WHERE THE POETS WENT (RedheadAmongWolves): Tender and enchanted story in which Paul and John go to a bookstore, where they're not as famous as everywhere else. As delicate as the chiming doorbells and the pages murmuring around them.

TAKEN AWAY (@crumblingcookies) Extraterrestrial Intelligence intervenes to reunite John and Paul.

CAN I TAKE MY FRIEND TO BED? (manhattanvalleys). Paul fucks the band in sequence and gets off in the end, as is his due. This is a story like Prince's KISS. No filler, all effect.

THEY SAY IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY (@ohjohnnysblog). Warm and nostalgic phone sex in the 70's.

KEEP THE LIGHT WE'RE GIVEN (@backbenttulips). Amidst the rise of Beatlemania, Paul and John expect their first child. This is Paul's 1962 diary.

More Outsider POV's:

STILL MATES (@pauls1967moustache): in 1968, Peter Asher takes the leap to act on his feelings for his sister's spiraling ex fiancé. This isn't about Paul as much as about Peter, and who he wants to be. Gutting character study. It made me love Peter.

ANOTHER GIRL (@boshemians): Astrid reunites with the Beatles during the making of AHDN and registers their words and deeds with the same stark objectivity as her camera. I love how she seeks the shelter of obscurity while they are being dragged into the limelight. But she sees them, wherever they are. J/P in this story feels incredibly real to me.

WHY BUY THE COW (RedheadAmongWolves). The milkman sees everything on his early morning rounds: the arrival of a nice new family, the McCartneys, the mother's illness, the sadness after her death...and the arrival of a new love in the older son's life. He shouldn't approve—should say something, in fact. But a small inner voice holds him back.

SLEEPLESS IN WALES (thinkpink20). Mike overhears Paul and John whisper in bed. He doesn't understand everything they say. I do. Adorable.

Not each other's first love, but each other's true love

THIS YEAR'S FOR ME AND YOU (@skylikeaflame): After a long life, after deep and loving partnerships with other people, John and Paul, encouraged by their grown-up children, finally meet their mutual love head on. A festive story about waiting the perfect amount of time.

THERE ARE ALWAYS FLOWERS (tarenas): The Beatles are in the past; John and Paul's love is in ashes. Paul, who is fragile and bereft, lives with George, who is content. The four ex-Beatles unite for the second wedding of Mike McCartney. At times, the aching grief in this story is almost unbearable. But the love between George and Paul is unusual and real. This is unfinished. I'll keep waiting for the final chapter.

Beyond J/P

WANT ME WHEN I'M NOT THERE (@backbenttulips): Linda catches Paul cheating on her with John. She divorces him. Finally: a story that puts her most likely reaction front and center, with no mercy for the messed-up geniuses.

In the Rebecca-AU LOVE LIKE GHOSTS (@backbenttulips), Yoko becomes Mrs. Lennon. Soon, she discovers that her husband is haunted by the ghost of his first love. It's pleasing how well this re-telling matches the events as they (alas) (almost) happened. The ending is chilling. Genuinely horrifying. I love seeing Yoko as the sensible one and as the focus of empathy.

THE BASS LESSON (@aquarianshift). Paul and Stu fool around without letting go of their mutual resentment for even a moment. And it works. "Let's never do this again." I don't think so.

TELL ME ALL MY LOVE'S IN VAIN (@midchelle). Forget about quote unquote platonically obsessed male rock stars: This about about Maureen and Patti through the years. The web weaving continues.

SPOTLIGHT ON JOHN AND STU (@dailyhowl) A love story in letters—too brief, like Stu's life, but sounding as if the writer transcribed their dictation. Some of the best descriptions of what it must have been like to play on stage with the Beatles during the mania are in NO I IN THREESOME (@with-eyes-closed). George finds himself in the beam of attention between John and Paul, and nearly loses his mind. But he's determined to stay and become part of them. Paul is daddy and "fucks like music" as seen through George's eyes. The whole story is vicious and hot and uncomfortable—until there's the love and quiet at the eye of the storm.

Not for the faint of heart! WHAT THE CIGGIE CARTON SAW (@waveofhand): Paul McCartney having his way with cigarettes.

This is getting out of hand...but I'll stop here. There are so many more stories I love. And I can think of many other categories that would deserve their own post.

So, who knows: To be continued?

#fic rec #mclennon #mclennon fanfiction #mclennon fic #asks #fic recs #overall favorites fic recs

289 notes · View notes

deakyjoe · 1 year

Text

Somebody’s Watching Me Part 5

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (“Sarge”, she/her pronouns, British, backstory)

Category: slowburn coworkers to friends to lovers with grumpy x sunshine dynamic/idiots in love

Summary: Your relationship with Simon begins to blossom even further as you hang out alone for the holiday period.

Warnings: fluff, Christmas Day shenanigans, British slang/terminology, talks of bad family, the sister makes an appearance, awkward Ghost, domestic Ghost (hella domestic in this one), cursing/swearing, children (briefly), talks of scars, the mask is off

Word count: 4.1k (short, I’m sorry)

A/N: He’s so babygirl in that gif. Majority of the ideas for this chapter came to me during dinner on Christmas Day when I was wishing I was spending it with my favourite fictional masked military man instead of my family…

Part 6 available to read here

The plan had gone ahead. The stupid, silly plan that you’d let your friend convince you into. Simon was due to arrive at your place any second. Yes, that’s right. The two of you had actually decided to spend Christmas Day together. Lieutenant and Sergeant Extravaganza. It was going to be a disaster, you were convinced.

What the fuck were you thinking?

You weren’t thinking much actually as you dashed around your kitchen, trying to keep up with cooking timers and attempting to keep the place in order. You were failing at keeping it in order, your kitchen was a mess. But luckily you were pulled out of your panic by him arriving.

The door was wrenched open halfway through his knocking, startling Simon slightly but he barely showed it with the smallest raise of his eyebrows. His hand still hung in the air ready for his next knock.

"Eager." He grunted, handing you the bags he was carrying.

"You're late." You snapped as you turned away from him to walk back to the kitchen where you were cooking the biggest meal for two people ever. You were wearing an apron and some unidentifiable substance was splattered over your cheeks. You were unaware of it.

"You said ten. It's ten." He replied as he shut the door and followed you, kicking off his shoes in the process.

You dumped his bags in the corner of the room. "I said get here ten-ish. That means nine-thirty latest."

"You should've said nine-thirty then." He frowned as he picked the bags up again and set them delicately on your kitchen counter. "Watch it. Got some goods in here."

"Couldn't have said nine-thirty because then I'd look insane. Ten was bad enough. What's with all the bags?" The previous subject was dropped as you peered into the top of one of the bags in front of you. Your attention was so easily distracted.

He shrugged. "You told me to bring things."

You pouted. "I said bring potatoes and carrots."

"I did." He pulled them from the bag and set them down in front of you. Potatoes and carrots as requested. But the bags were still bulging.

"That's more than potatoes and carrots, Simon."

"A few extra vegetables maybe." He paused. "And your presents."

You perked up instantly. "You got me presents?"

"Be a bit rude of me if I spent Christmas Day here with you and didn't get you presents." He huffed, scrunching the bag shut when you attempted to peek at what he'd brought you.

You rolled your eyes at him. "No, I invited you. Besides, we didn't say we would."

He hesitated, shifting on his feet. "It's okay if you didn't get me any."

You scoffed. "As if I wouldn't get you any."

He didn't respond to that but instead pointed at his cheeks. "You've got a little something."

You rubbed at your face. "Got it?"

"No. Here, let me." He reached across and cupped your cheek in his large hand, finger swiping across the skin to remove whatever was there.

You could feel yourself burning at the touch. It was so unexpected from him. The most you'd ever gotten was the hooked pinkies at the Christmas party. Now he was touching your face? Of course you weren’t complaining, you were just surprised.

He looked as if he was going to say something else but was interrupted by your phone ringing, the vibration of it making it shift across the surface of the counter. His hand was removed quickly in the blink of an eye but you took no notice as a familiar name was flashing on the screen of your phone.

"Gonna take that?" Simon asked gruffly, his eyes on you as you stared at your phone.

"It's my sister." You mumbled, tentatively picking it up. Why was she calling you? On Christmas Day?

He leant forward next to you, looking over your shoulder. "Maybe you should answer. Confront her like you did your parents."

"I don't know if it'd be a confrontation."

Things with you sister were... ambiguous. You didn't know exactly what her opinion of you was. And you were scared to find out.

But you needed to decide because she wouldn't wait around for you to answer the phone forever. So you hit the green button and hoped for the best when her smiling face appeared on the screen. Shit, it was a FaceTime.

She gasped but didn't seem unhappy. "You picked up!"

"Uh, sure did." You sent an awkward smile back, not certain what you were supposed to say to her. "Umm... hey. How are you?"

Greetings. Small talk. Good.

"I'm good, I'm good! How are you? Merry Christmas, by the way!"

She was too enthusiastic for your taste. And that was coming from you. Simon secretly described you as the epitome of sunshine.

"Merry Christmas. I'm- I'm alright."

Simon's gaze was burning into the side of your face so you desperately tried to ignore him.

"Good! Listen-"

Oh, fuck.

"-I know you're not going to Mum and Dad's this year and I totally understand."

Did she?

"But I want to see you at some point. Before you're next called away. I haven't seen you in forever. You've got nieces and nephews to see as well." Her tone didn't change for a second and she seemed genuine. Surprising.

You blinked at her. "Uhh... okay."

"Okay? Really?" She asked and you nodded. "Great! Hang on, they want to see you. Kids!"

There was a scuffle on the other end of the line before four small faces were squished together to fit in front of the camera, including a tiny baby being held up at the back of the group.

"Say Merry Christmas to your auntie then."

"Merry Christmas!" They all chimed, minus the newborn, with sweet smiles full of missing teeth.

A lump formed in your throat at the sight of them. "Merry Christmas."

They all disappeared again before your sister was back on screen. "I tell them stories all the time about you."

"You do?"

"Of course, you're their aunt! I need their aunt in their lives even if you can't physically be here all the time-"

You cut her off. "I didn't think you wanted me to be."

She frowned at you. "Why wouldn't I want you to be?"

"Because Mum and Dad said-"

"Oh, fuck everything they say. I don't care what they think. You're my sister. That's all that matters." She glanced away from the camera. "Yes, Mummy used a bad word. No, you can't use it. Maybe when you're older. Go put your shoes on."

Tears were welling in your eyes so you blinked them back. "I still can't come over for Christmas."

"I know. And I understand why." She paused, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "You're not spending it alone, are you?"

"No, no. I'm spending it with a friend." You said, eyes flicking to the side to look at Simon who was listening and watching you intently.

"Ooh, is it the fella that Mum and Dad saw you with at the market?" Her face suddenly got closer to the camera, her voice lowering to a whisper.

"They told you about that?" You were surprised, thinking they'd keep it to themselves.

"Oh, yeah. I hoped you'd call since you were home. But then you didn't... so I figured I would."

"Thought it was best I kept my distance." You explained. "I didn't know where you stood. With me."

"Silly girl." She shook her head but moved on. "Is mystery man there? Can I see him?"

"Yes, mystery man is here. And no, you can't see him." You laughed.

"Ugh, does mystery man have a name at least?"

"Simon."

"Shit, yeah. They did say that. Also said he's your lieutenant. Is that allowed?" Her brows raised in accusation.

"We're just friends."

Just friends. Liar.

"Sure, you a-" She was cut off from a shout somewhere in the distance. "Fuck, we've got to go. Umm, promise to call me. Or text me. Whatever."

"Promise." You nodded. "Have a good time today."

"It'll be a struggle without you. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas." You replied with one last smile before hanging up.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment after you'd set your phone down. This was the last thing you expected to happen on Christmas Day. But it wasn't unwanted. In fact, it felt rather nice.

"Are you okay?" Simon suddenly asked, not enjoying how quiet you were being.

Your head snapped to the side to look at him. "Yes, actually. Do you want to do presents now?"

"Sure, whatever you want." One side of his mouth curled up slightly. It sort of resembled a smile.

"Okay, let's do it." You skipped out of the kitchen and into the living room where you dragged a bag from behind the television and collapsed onto the sofa.

Simon followed you, falling into his seat more carefully. He had his own bag of presents for you clutched in his arms.

"Here you go." You shoved his gifts towards him, slightly nervous at what he'd think. "You can open them in any order."

"Open yours first." He said softly as your presents were placed carefully into your lap. "You have to leave the small one until last."

"Okay." You frowned at that but accepted. He had his reasonings and you'd see soon enough anyway.

You pulled the first present from the bag, it was medium sized and squishy. Nicely wrapped. Curious. When you'd unwrapped it, you were puzzled to see multiple pairs of socks. A classic Christmas gift.

"They're thermal." Simon explained hurriedly, noticing the expression on your face. "You're always complaining that your feet are cold in the field. Thought these'd help."

"Oh." You melted a little, amazed that he’d remembered. Did you really complain that much? "That's so sweet, Simon. Thank you."

He said nothing so you moved on to the next gift. This was bigger and judging by the weight and shape you could guess what it was. And you were right. A bottle of the apple juice from the farmers' market.

"You know me so well." You sighed happily, placing it to the side and making a mental note to put it in the fridge as soon as possible.

After that was an apple scented candle and a box of your favourite chocolates. How he knew about those, you had no idea as you were sure you'd never once eaten them or mentioned them in front of him. But you didn't think on it too hard.

Lastly was the smallest gift. It was thin and you found an envelope underneath the wrapping paper. Your brows furrowed in confusion. Inside the envelope was a piece of paper with an eleven digit number written on it. A phone number.

"It's my phone number." Simon said, hushed. "I thought that maybe you should have it. As we're... friends now."

You looked back up at him, eyes glassy and full of appreciation. Somehow, he knew you perfectly. And this was the best gift you ever could have asked for.

"Thank you." You said softly, sniffing as you immediately typed it into your contacts. You didn't want to risk losing it. Or risk him changing his mind and wanting to take it back.

He just nodded and reached for his own gifts and started opening them. The first was a jar of raw honey from the market. Secretly, you were so glad you hadn't run into each other there again as it would’ve spoiled the surprise of the presents.

After that was a hat, scarf and gloves.

"Because you won't buy them for yourself." You explained after he sent you an unamused look.

Then he opened the gift you were most nervous about. A double picture frame with two photographs from the Christmas party in them on either side. The first had a group shot of everyone that Simon originally didn't want to be in but reluctantly agreed to after you begged him.

"C'mon, Simon! It'll be nice!"

"Just for you, Sarge. Just for you..."

He stood in the corner behind you. And you didn't fail to notice how he wasn't looking at the camera, but instead had his eyes fixed on you.

The second was a photograph of the two of you out on the patio. One of your friends had sneakily taken it when neither of you were paying attention. Both you and Simon were looking up at the sky and your pinkies were interlocked on the wooden railing. It looked… romantic. She’d sent it to you the next day with heart emojis as a caption.

He said nothing as he stared down at it.

Biting your thumbnail anxiously, you took in a deep breath. "You don't have to put it up anywhere. I just thought... I don't know."

"No, I'll find somewhere for it. Thank you." He looked at it for a few seconds more before standing it upright on the coffee table and picking up his last gift.

A limited edition Patrick Swayze box set collection. You'd spent hours on the internet scouring for it.

And when Simon's eyes lit up you knew the time was spent well.

You started pointing at various places on the back of the box. "It comes with exclusive interviews and documentaries as well as some of his best movies. It's got Dirty Dancing, Point Break, Road House, Ghost- wait." You cut yourself off, suddenly realising something.

Simon predicted your epiphany, his face dropping into boredom. "No."

"Hang on." You ignored him, putting the pieces together.

"No." He just repeated himself, slightly firmer.

"Is your name Ghost because of Ghost?" You said, trying to stifle a giggle.

He said nothing. That was an answer in itself.

Air shot from your mouth in shock. "Oh, my god! It is!"

"It's a coincidence." His teeth were clenched.

"Totally. Patrick Swayze super fan Simon Riley is also known as Ghost. Coincidentally." You rolled your eyes at his weak attempt of an explanation. No way that it was a coincidence.

"I'm not called Ghost because of Patrick Swayze." He insisted, dropping the box set to your coffee table and sending you a death glare.

You nodded, unconvinced. "Yuh-huh. And how many times have you seen the movie?"

Shrug. "I don't know."

"A lot, right?"

Another shrug. "Yeah."

"Simon!" You cackled, struggling to breathe as a sudden laugh escaped you. "I can't believe your callsign comes from a romance movie starring Whoopi Goldberg!"

He frowned. "It doesn't."

"It so does. Do you cry during it?" Your brows raised at the idea. You couldn't picture him crying.

"No."

"How do you feel about the pottery scene?" Your tone was suggestive as you questioned his opinions on one of the most famous sexy scenes of all time.

"It's okay."

"Please! You so cry during it and love the pottery scene." You were just teasing him but the thought of it was quite amusing.

He turned away from you. "Stop it."

"I can't. This information is precious to me."

"Information you're making up." He snapped.

"I bet you know the choreography for Dirty Dancing as well." Imagine him doing the big dance number at the end...

He said nothing.

"Christ, you do." You sighed, highly thrilled with this development. "Hate to say it but I always preferred Keanu Reeves to Patrick Swayze in Point Break."

He suddenly looked at you with an expression as if you'd committed the biggest sin ever. "That's because you have no taste."

You snorted. "Says the man who doesn't like Love Actually."

"Sappy romance." He waved his hand at you.

"You like Ghost and Dirty Dancing." You deadpanned.

Correction. "I like Patrick Swayze."

Again, you laughed at him. "You're not helping your case."

He huffed. "Fine. I like some romances. Happy?"

"Very." You were grinning at him.

He paused and frowned at you. "Keanu Reeves?"

With a sigh, you shut your eyes and pictured Keanu Reeves. "He's pretty."

Simon's mind flashed back to the night of the party where you'd called him pretty in passing.

"Although, so is Patrick Swayze." You added, thinking about him and his mullet in Dirty Dancing. "Hey, do you have any pictures of you with your Patrick Swayze mullet?"

"No." He did. He was lying.

"What a shame. Would've loved to have seen." You sighed again, this time more dramatically. "Okay, come on, Simon Swayze. We've got more cooking to do."

He ignored the tingling in his stomach at being referred to as Simon Swayze. "Thought you said you had it all sorted. That you wouldn't need my help."

"Maybe I wasn't telling the truth." You brushed your hands down the front of your apron.

“Hm, you got another apron for me to wear?” He was joking but your eyes sparkled as you ran off into the kitchen so he decided to keep that to himself.

He followed you into the kitchen slowly to find you bent over and digging through a drawer. Guiltily, he averted his eyes after realising he’d been staring for a couple seconds too long.

“Aha!” You presented an apron to him with a flourish.

It was obvious just by looking at it that it’d be far too small for him. But Simon decided to just indulge you and slipped it over his head anyway.

He stuck his arms out to the sides. “How do I look?”

“Domestic. Like a housewife. Suits you.” You nodded and turned to the piles of bowls and dishes on the counter. “Can you cook?”

“I can follow instructions.”

What an interesting thought.

You snapped yourself out of it and pointed at several items, reeling off a list of things he could do to help out.

So that’s what the two of you did for the next few hours, you told him what to do and Simon did it. It was a nice change in dynamic from him usually telling you what to do as your lieutenant. And maybe the power was getting to your head a little.

“What are you doing?!”

“What you told me to do. Chopping.”

“No! I said to leave half an inch between the cuts. That’s clearly three quarters of an inch.”

“I think I know my inches, Sarge.”

You’d shut up at that comment.

And when the food was done and you’d both eaten more than you probably should have, the promise of sending Simon home with half the leftovers being sealed, you settled on the sofa to watch the two movies you’d agreed on.

It was a quick game of rock, paper, scissors to decide whose film got played first. You’d won and happily put on Love Actually with a smug grin. Little to your knowledge, Simon had lost on purpose.

You sat in silence as you watched the lives of several characters be intertwined over the Christmas period as their love lives took twists and turns.

And when it was over, you turned to your lieutenant with a curious gaze. “So?”

“Still shit.”

“Simon!” You groaned, head falling back onto the sofa. “How could you say that?”

“I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Fine, fine. Guess it’s time for Die Hard now.” You sighed and put the next movie on, kind of looking forward to it. You hadn’t seen it in years. A rewatch might be nice.

And it was. You’d forgotten how good it actually was. But when you turned to tell Simon that in the last half hour of the movie, you found him asleep. Asleep!

His head was tilted back, eyes closed, mouth slightly open and face relaxed. You giggled quietly to yourself and let the rest of the film play out.

When it was over he was still fast asleep so you placed a blanket across him and tiptoed into the kitchen, switched the radio on a low volume and started to tidy up. It took you about half an hour before everything was packed away in the fridge and all cooking equipment was piled ready to be washed.

When you turned to put something in a cupboard, Simon was stood in the doorway watching you. His eyelids were slightly hooded as he rubbed a hand across his face, hair tousled to perfection. He looked... delectable.

"How long was I out?" His voice was husky from sleep. Music to your ears.

"About an hour I think." You couldn't move your eyes away from him, completely unblinking.

He grunted lowly in the back of his throat and moved towards you. "Sorry."

"It's- it's okay." You backed yourself against the counter, wincing as the granite dug into the small of your back.

"Thanks for the blanket." He stopped short about two feet away from you. "I can't believe I fell asleep."

"You missed the end of Die Hard." You cracked a small smile, trying to distract yourself from the way he looked.

"No, I mean-" He exhaled deeply. "I haven't slept like that... in a while."

"Well, that's good then. Right? Power nap?"

"I can't sleep at home because I'm paranoid. And uncomfortable." He admitted suddenly.

"Oh." It was sad to hear that he wasn't happy in his own home. "My sofa is available any time you want to use it."

"I don't know why I fell asleep."

"Maybe you're less paranoid here because you know I'm here. Someone to back you up. Just in case. Like how you sleep better in the field?"

"Maybe." His eyes crinkled at the edges at that. "I guess I do trust you."

"You guess?"

"I do.” He corrected. “Trust that you'd not let me die say someone were to try to kill me in my sleep. Assuming that it's not you trying to kill me."

"No promises. But you're safe for now. You don't snore."

"Soap needs to watch his back then."

"He certainly does."

He suddenly noticed that your sink was full of water and suds. "Need help with that?"

"Sure. You want to wash or dry?"

"I'll wash. I'm good with a sponge."

"A sentence I never thought I'd hear you say but okay!"

He sidled up next to you and stuck his hands into the water with no hesitation.

"Aaahh! What are you doing?" You grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands from the sink, eyes wide with horror. "That's boiling water! I have gloves for you to use!"

"Can't really feel it." He looked down at his hands, now an angry pink from the heat. "It's mostly scar tissue."

You frowned at him. "You still have nerve endings and pain receptors in scar tissue."

"Not me."

You laughed sarcastically. "Oh, not you."

"Not me." He repeated.

Stubborn bastard.

"You're an idiot." You shook your head with a smile, amused by him.

"Appreciate that, Sarge." He didn't seem annoyed, however. He also seemed to find it funny.

You found a tea towel and dried his hands for him, being gentle as to not aggravate the scar tissue or poke at the burning skin more. Then you pulled the washing up gloves from the cupboard below and gave them to him.

"Now wear these."

"Yes, ma'am." He sighed but took them from you anyway, slipping them onto his large hands. They were a tight fit but they'd have to do.

The two of you stood together, you humming along to the music on the radio as you dried bowls and pots and Simon watching you from the corner of his eye as he scrubbed at plates and saucepans.

He interrupted you with a hushed mumble, almost inaudible. “Sarge?”

“Yeah?” Your humming stopped as you looked up at him.

He was hesitant before he replied. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Today. It’s been my nicest Christmas since… forever.” He avoided looking at you which was odd for him.

“Oh. You’re welcome.” While it made you happy that he’d had a good time, it also pained you that his previous Christmases hadn’t been as kind to him.

“I- I like spending time with you.” The statement was rushed, jaw tightened.

“I like spending time with you too.” You responded, feeling lightheaded at his confession.

He didn’t reply for a moment, just nodded at your returned sentiment. “What time do you need me to leave?”

“Whenever you want.” It was true. You weren’t planning on kicking him out any time soon, or ever. He was free to stay as long as he wanted to.

He hummed quietly.

You decided to be bold and repeat your offer from earlier in the day. "You can stay on the sofa if you want."

He appeared surprised by that but smiled. A full-blown Simon Riley smile. Glimpse of pearly white teeth and everything. You almost fainted at the sight.

"I'd like that."

But in true Ghost fashion he'd disappeared before you'd woken up the next morning.

A/N: Fun fact - I was gonna have them kiss in this chapter and then decided against it to hang out the slowburn a little longer… you’re welcome! 💀

2K notes · View notes