#until the hyperfix wears off | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rosygaze · 4 months ago

Text

help wanted!

pairing: johnny storm x assistant!reader

summary: it’s your first day at your new job and a certain cocky blonde helps you out.

word count: 2.2k+

note: not me getting attracted to a blonde man 😔 the f4 trailer kickstarted my mcu hyperfixation again so i had to get this out of my system. might be the start of a lil series of one shots based on this pairing 🤭 also i ignore the fact that joseph wears blue contacts for this. i simply do not accept baby cow eye erasure 🙂‍↔️

next part >

“You got this. You got this.” You whispered to yourself in the comfort of your car.

Job hunting was going poorly and you were getting desperate when you saw the ad on the paper. An assistant job. That didn’t seem too hard. Get some coffees, organize files, schedule meetings. You could do that.

What you couldn’t do was freaking rocket science. You could just imagine the look on your face when your potential new boss told you that you’d be working with her at the space center. Why didn’t you read the fine print before going to this interview? She was kind enough not to laugh in your face when you explained that you didn’t have any experience in that field. She just gave you a kind smile and moved onto the next question.

You thought that was it. You blew it. But a few days later, you received a call to let you know that you got the job and that they'd be sending you an information packet soon. You might’ve squealed into the poor receiver’s ear.

Now, here you were in your car, bouncing your leg anxiously and staring at the giant facility that housed rocket ships. You sighed and flicked through the folder in your lap.

After going through everything for the fourth time this morning, your watch read 20 to 9. That seemed early enough to look competent, but not too eager. Another deep breath and you stepped out of your car. You slung your bag over your shoulder and clutched your folder to your chest like a lifeline.

A loud screech made you jump. Your head snapped towards the sound and saw a bright red convertible pulling into the parking lot. A cloud of dust trailed behind it as it pulled into the spot across you. Your curiosity was piqued.

Only the back of the driver’s blonde head faced you so you couldn't make out his face. He adjusted the rear-view mirror and looked at his reflection through a stylish pair of sunglasses. The stranger ran his hand through his hair, and it fell perfectly back in place.

You knew you should get inside but you couldn’t help but stare a little longer. That backfired on you when he peered over the tops of his glasses and you saw big brown eyes looking straight at you, corners crinkled in amusement. The driver killed the engine and you held your breath. He opened the door and long legs stretched out of the flashy car.

He wore nice shoes, khaki trousers, and a well-fitting blue dress shirt. You trailed your eyes further up and saw that he took off the glasses, placing them on top of his perfect hair.

He was handsome.

“Hi.” He called out and looked you over, lingering on your legs. Your fingers reached down to the hem of your skirt and pulled it down ever slightly.

“H-hello.” You stammered and scurried off towards the building. Mentally, you were hitting yourself for stuttering.

“Hey, wait!” You didn’t stop. Gravel cracked behind you and you made the mistake of turning around. You saw him running after you, catching up immediately. “You new here?”

You nodded. “First day.”

“Figured.” He sped up a little until he was a couple of steps ahead of you. He started walking backwards so you could see the devilish smile he put on. “Would’ve definitely remembered you.”

You nearly tripped over your heels.

And he clearly noticed.

“I’m Johnny.” He stopped and held a hand out for you. You hesitated before slipping your hand in his. You gave him your name and tried not to notice how nice his calloused hand fit in yours. “Pretty.”

A warm flush came over your body. You had to get inside quick. “It was nice to meet you, but I have to get going.”

“Which department are you in? Maybe I can give you a tour.”

“That’s very kind but, I know where to go.” You waved your folder in front of him. You didn’t know where you were going but you had a feeling that the longer you spent around him, the more you’d embarrass yourself. The door handle was just inches away from your grip but Johnny beat you to it.

“Sure, but I’m much better to look at than a boring piece of paper. More fun too.” He shrugged, putting his weight on the handle. You tried not to notice how the muscles under his shirt shifted.

“I'll take my chances with the paper.” You scoffed.

Johnny pouted and put a hand to his chest. “You wound me, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes and managed to squeeze your hand in the space between Johnny’s arm. Just barely able to grip the cool metal, you pushed the door open and he pretended to fall inside. You couldn’t even try to hide the silly smile on your lips when you walked past him. The lady behind the front desk looked up at you with an annoyed expression. You faltered in your step.

“Be brave.” Johnny whispered in your ear. You glared at him and he gave you a wink in return.

“Good morning.” You said with a bright smile. The receptionist didn't greet you back. She just gave you another withering stare. “It's my first day and I was told to get my badge here.” You continued.

“Name?” She snapped. You told her, a little taken aback by her tone. She slammed a piece of plastic on the counter and slid it towards you. “You know where to go?”

“Uh-“

She sighed, exasperatedly. “Take the elevator to the right down to basement 3. Turn right down the hallway, take two rights, one left, and it’s the 5th door on your left. Got that?”

“I-“

“I’ve got her, Marge.” Johnny popped up beside you, a thousand-watt smile on yet again. “You have a day as beautiful as you.”

‘Marge’ made a disgruntled sound, looking less than pleased. She gave him a withering look and went back to her work. You shuffled after Johnny to escape Marge's wrath.

“Bet you wish you took up my offer now, huh?” Johnny hit the button to call the elevator.

“Is she always like that?” You kept your voice low in case she could still hear you.

“Yup, haven’t managed to crack her yet but, trust me, it’ll happen one day.” He held up a finger and looked far away, dramatically. Silly. You thought. The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Johnny put a hand on the frame and gestured for you to go in. “Come on, I’ll show you the way.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“Do you remember how many turns you have to take?” He raised a brow. You paused for a second too long. He chuckled at your hesitation. “I’m going that way anyways. It’s no problem.”

You wanted to turn him down again but you knew you would just get lost and be late on your first day. Having someone who knew this place to show you the way would be the most logical decision.

Plus, you were slowly learning that you liked brown eyes.

“Okay.” You went inside first and Johnny followed. He pressed ‘B3’ and the doors closed. Your nerves settled in again once the elevator rumbled as it descended down. You tapped a finger against the folder. Out of the corner of your eye, you could feel Johnny’s gaze burning in the side of your head. You turned and saw him leaning against the wall, studying you. “What?”

“You nervous?” He nodded towards your finger.

“Who wouldn’t be?”

“Me.” Johnny cocked his head. You shook your head incredulously. “You know who you’re gonna be working for?”

“Susan Storm.”

His eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You narrowed your eyes. “You know her?”

“I do.” He crossed his arms. “What are you gonna do for her?”

“I’m her new assistant. I don’t really know what to expect.” You sighed.

“You’ll be fine. She’s nice, really.” The elevator stopped and the doors opened. Johnny held the door open for you again and let you go out first.

“Are you sure? I only met her once during the interview.” You followed Johnny’s lead as he took you through the maze of your new office.

“Positive. She’s a bit of a hard ass sometimes but she’s one of the smartest people I know so she has a right to be. Don’t tell her I said that. She’d never let me live it down.” Johnny’s hand hovered over your upper back to guide you to turn right when you were about to turn left. “So if she chose you, you must be someone special. I wouldn’t worry.”

“That actually makes me feel a bit better.” Johnny gave you a reassuring smile and you noticed your fingers weren’t fidgeting anymore. “What do you do here?”

“I’m a pilot.” He said, nonchalantly, but you noticed his chest puffed out just a tad.

Your eyebrows shot up. “A pilot?”

“Impressed?” Johnny’s smile turned into a smirk.

“Trying not to be.” You teased but you genuinely were.

“Once you see my skills, you won’t be able to resist.” Innuendo dripped off his words and he looked way too pleased with himself. Johnny led you through two more turns and presented you with an unlabeled door. “Et voila, your new home.”

“Thank you, Johnny.” You said, genuinely. “There’s no way I would’ve found this on my own.”

“No worries.” He leaned against the door and gave you that smile again. The same one that had you tripping over yourself. “But… if you ever wanted to repay your knight in shining armor, maybe you could join me for dinner sometime?”

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish, not knowing how to respond.

“Johnny!” A voice saved you from your own embarrassment. You looked over Johnny’s shoulder and saw Susan Storm walking towards the two of you. She had a stern look on her face as she stared at the man in front of you. “No flirting with my assistant.”

“I wasn’t doing anything of the sort.” He winked at you.

Susan put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him behind her, standing in between the two of you. Her bright blue eyes turned to you and gave you a warm smile. “Hi, it’s so nice to see you again.” You shook hands.

“It’s nice to see you again too, Ms. Storm.” Her eyes crinkled as her smile reached her eyes.

“Oh, please, call me Sue.” She put her other hand on top of yours and squeezed. Now, you felt stupid for being so nervous. “I see you've met my brother, Jonathan.”

“B-brother?” You looked at Johnny and back at Sue, finally noticing the similarities between the two. Blonde hair, same noses, similar jawlines. Fuck. Were you flirting with your boss’ brother on the first day?

“Younger brother.” Johnny supplied.

“Ah.” You nodded. He was clearly trying not to laugh.

“Hope he wasn’t too much of a bother.” Sue squeezed your hand one last time before letting go.

“He was very helpful actually.” She tilted her head at you and looked back at Johnny, who just shrugged.

“See? I’m helpful.” Johnny told his sister.

“Then go be helpful inside. Ben’s looking for you.” Sue cocked her head in the direction of the room. Johnny rolled his eyes and moved towards the door.

“Fine.” Johnny turned those brown eyes to you again. Something in your stomach fluttered when you locked eyes. “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.”

“Johnny, what did I say!” Sue hit his shoulder.

“Ow!” He rubbed his shoulder and stumbled through the door.

“Sorry about that. If he ever makes you uncomfortable, let me know and I’ll hit him again for you. Now, let me show you around.” Sue gestured for you to follow her.

You followed your boss through the door and your jaw dropped as soon as you saw what was inside. Behind the nondescript door was a big hangar. There were computers everywhere and various metal parts in every corner. But the piece de resistance was the rocket ship in the middle of the room. It was as shiny as it was tall. You’d never felt so small in your life.

“Whoa.” Was all you could get out. You craned your neck back to see the pointed tip of the ship.

“Ain’t she a beauty.” Sue sounded proud. “That’s the Marvel-1. Our baby. We’re taking her up to space soon.”

“You are?” You walked further in and saw workers walking around, carrying different parts towards the rocket. Banging and clanging sounds echoed through the big space.

“Mhm. It’ll be a small team. Just me, my husband, Reed, our friend, Ben, and Johnny.”

You couldn’t help but scan the people’s faces, trying to get a glimpse of the blonde again but no dice. Is it weird that you were disappointed?

“That’s amazing.” You looked back up at the rocket. “I’ve never seen a rocket in person before.

“You’ll be seeing a lot of them now.” Sue put a hand on your shoulder. “Now, we have a lot of work to do before that thing is ready to launch and I’ll need your help.”

“You can count on me.” You stood up straight.

“I know I can. That’s why I chose you.” Sue smiled at you. You wanted to prove her right. And most importantly, prove to yourself that you could do this. “Ready to take on your first task?”

You nodded, eagerly.

You got this.

next part >

#johnny storm x reader #johnny storm #fantastic four #fantastic four: first steps #joseph quinn #she speaks

640 notes · View notes

kxsagi · 2 months ago

Note

Kindly requesting mma fighter!gf x blue lock boys 🙏

I’ve been hyperfixating on the idea for a hot minute and would like to know your take on these 🤭 As for characters, could you have Isagi, Bachira, Sae, Shido, Reo, Kaiser and Barou? (As well as any other characters you’d like to add) Thank you ☺️

“𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐭”

a/n: this is giving “my girlfriend could kill me (and i’d let her)”

ft. itoshi sae, itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, shidou ryusei, mikage reo, kaiser michael, barou shoei

itoshi sae

deadpan “wtf” when he first sees you break a guy’s nose clean in a sparring match.

not scared of you… just extremely respectful of you.

“remind me to never piss you off.”

secretly enjoys watching your training vids. they're always playing in the background while he studies game footage or stretches. he says it's for "noise."

loves that you can protect yourself. he doesn't worry when you're out late because who would even try you?

your bruised knuckles get the gentlest kisses. he's silent about it, but you catch the softness in his eyes every time.

itoshi rin

"your form’s off. tilt your elbow when you throw."

yes. rin critiques your fighting technique.

trains with you for fun, but it turns serious fast. you both end up full-sparring, and the neighbors call the cops because it sounds like a crime scene.

lowkey turns into your water boy during competitions. towel ready, water open, dead silent but there for everything.

he doesn't like people staring at you in your fight gear, but he'd never say that. instead, he’ll just glare until they combust.

jealous when you get press attention – “they should be watching me, not her.” (he’s just petty + he loves you.)

isagi yoichi

your biggest fan. like. front row, wearing a shirt with your name on it.

he gasps when you throw punches like a mom watching her kid in a karate tournament.

“wait wait wait was that a spinning elbow??? baby that was SICK!!!”

always tries to “train” with you and ends up flat on his back every time.

absolutely posts clips of you on his insta stories with heart emojis.

when fans flirt with him, he literally goes, “my girlfriend would kick your ass in two seconds.”

bachira meguru

he thinks it’s the hottest thing ever.

challenges you to play-wrestling. ends up in a headlock giggling like a maniac.

asks you to teach him cool moves just so he can show off in public and say “my girlfriend taught me that!”

gets way too into your pre-fight rituals. “do you want me to braid your hair? can i scream like a hype man before you go in?”

draws little doodles of you mid-kick. has a sticker of you on his phone case.

actually becomes a little possessive when other fighters flirt with you. all smiley until he says, “she’ll break your nose if you try that again.”

shidou ryusei

it’s a match made in hell. chaos x chaos.

you two flirt by trying to knock each other out.

sparring is just foreplay, honestly.

“babe you broke my rib that was so hot.”

starts fights in public just so you can jump in and “save” him.

he’s obsessed with your strength. like, genuinely obsessed. will brag about you to strangers like “my girlfriend could kill you with her pinky.”

also not-so-secretly into the idea of you pinning him. yeah…

mikage reo

shocked at first. like, his elegant, stunning girlfriend… punches people for a living?

gets over it fast and becomes the most extra supporter of all time.

hires a videographer to make hype montages of your fights.

“you need better sponsorships. i’ll call my manager.”

wears suits to your matches like he’s at fashion week.

deadass once tries to bribe your opponents to forfeit so you won’t get hurt. you banned him from doing that again.

gets really flustered when you pin him against the wall. “d-don’t use your pro moves on me, babe… please…”

kaiser michael

he acts cocky until he sees you knock someone out in 30 seconds.

“... okay that was kind of sexy.”

makes it his life mission to look cooler than you in public. spoiler: he fails.

“you’re lucky i like strong women.” while actively looking like a golden retriever when you punch the heavy bag.

kisses your bruises like it’s romantic. it kinda is.

super competitive during sparring. refuses to go easy even when you dominate him.

also: “imagine our kids. they'd be gods.”

barou shoei

does NOT know how to process you at first.

like. you fight?? professionally??

refuses to admit he’s impressed. instead he says “your guard’s sloppy.”

you beat him in arm wrestling and he sulks for a week.

but deep down? he’s proud as hell. watches all your matches. complains when they don’t show your good side.

sometimes trains with you, but it always turns into a competition.

super protective even though you clearly don’t need it. “don’t talk to her. she can handle herself, but i’ll break your jaw too.”

707 notes · View notes

monicfever · 2 months ago

Text

you pulled away for a second and now they’re spiraling 𝜗𝜚 daredevil & punisher cast hcs

characters used ᝰ .ᐟ matt murdock / frank castle / foggy nelson / karen page / elektra / ben poindexter / billy russo / dinah madani / micro

⏜︵ MATT MURDOCK. 𐂯

gives you space but feels every inch of it like a bruise. overthinks it for hours. you don’t kiss him goodbye one morning and he stands there in the kitchen, frozen, one hand still half-raised like he’s reaching for something that isn’t there.

he’ll say, “i’m fine,” but his tie’s too tight, his smile’s too sharp.

plays your voice messages on loop with his headphones in, forehead pressed to the wall like it’ll stop the ache in his chest.

goes on patrol more. harder. rougher. comes back bloody. says “it’s nothing.” — it’s not nothing.

listens for you even when you’re not around. heartbeat. breath. laugh. when he can’t find it, he panics.

folds your sweater on his bed like it’s sacred. doesn’t wear it. doesn’t touch it. just leaves it there — a ghost of warmth he’s trying not to need.

says “i understand” when you say you’re just tired, but inside? he’s drowning.

you’re the only thing that’s ever felt like peace, and now you’re slipping through his fingers like smoke.

when you finally touch him again, soft and slow, he exhales like he’s been underwater. fists your shirt in his hands like he’s afraid you’ll vanish again.

mumbles “i thought i lost you” into the hollow of your throat like a confession. like he’s ashamed for needing you this much.

⏜︵ FRANK CASTLE. 𐂯

doesn’t say anything. doesn’t ask. just watches you. jaw tight, eyes dark, breathing slow — like he’s reading the air for signs of danger. distance feels like a threat to him, and he doesn’t do well with threats.

your laugh is quieter. you sit on the far end of the couch. your fingers slip from his too soon. that’s all it takes. he spirals silently.

doesn’t confront you — doesn’t want to make it worse — but suddenly he’s fixing everything. the cabinet you mentioned once. the heater that clicks. your favourite snack stocked up.

you didn’t ask. he just needs to do something. needs to prove he’s still useful.

sleeps on the edge of the bed. doesn’t touch you unless you move first. still watches you while you sleep. still memorizes the sound of your breath like it’s the only music that matters.

sharpens his knives at 2 a.m. in the kitchen with the lights off. doesn’t need them. needs control. needs the rhythm. the quiet. the pain in his palm when he grips too tight. anything but thinking about what he did wrong.

you touch his shoulder — finally — and he flinches. not from fear. from relief. like touch has become foreign. his voice cracks when he says, “you okay?” like he’s asking please tell me it’s not me. please tell me you’re still mine.

finds something you left at his place — a mug, a hoodie, a single bobby pin — and stares at it like it’s a lifeline. like proof you were close, even if you’re not now.

listens for your footsteps around the apartment. doesn’t realize he holds his breath until you walk into the room. exhales like a man back from war. like you’re the safe house.

won’t say “i miss you.” won’t beg.

when you finally come to him — kiss his temple, press your hand to his chest — he grips you like a lifeline. like someone pulled him out of the ocean.

⏜︵ FOGGY NELSON. 𐂯

notices instantly that something’s off, but second-guesses himself. “nah, don’t be dramatic,” he mumbles to himself. “they’re probably just tired.”

but then you don’t text back. and don’t laugh at his joke. and don’t say “i love you” before bed. suddenly he’s wide-eyed and spiraling in the dark, whispering “what did i do?”

starts overcompensating hard.

you say one sentence and he’s doing the most — buying coffee, making playlists, texting you memes with “this reminded me of you” — because if he makes you smile, maybe you won’t leave.

hyperfixates on one small thing he said that maybe sounded wrong, and now it’s on repeat in his head like a guilt-ridden soundtrack.

“was that too much? did i come on too strong? should i have not made that joke about their mom—OH GOD.”

says “we’re good, right?” with a soft laugh, casual like he’s joking, but he’s not. he’s checking. he’s scared. when you hesitate, even for a second? he feels like the floor just disappeared under him.

stays up refreshing your messages, rereading your last text like it’s in code. thinks “they said ‘okay’ with a period. that’s bad. that’s really bad, right?”

doesn’t want to guilt you, so he says things like “i know you’ve got a lot going on” and “i’m here when you’re ready” — but his voice cracks a little at the end. because he’s ready now. always is.

starts making you food. baking. cleaning your apartment while you’re at work. not to impress you — to feel useful. to remind himself that he can still take care of you in some way.

calls matt just to talk about anything, but ends up saying “hey, if i messed something up, you think they’d tell me?” matt sighs. foggy just stares out the window like he’s watching a romcom in reverse. practices what he’s going to say in the shower. out loud.

“hey, you’ve been a little quiet, and i totally get it, but—” cuts the water off. “no, that sounds clingy.” starts again.

when you finally touch his face or call him “sweetheart” again like nothing happened, he laughs too hard. kisses you too long. holds your waist like it’s breakable. murmurs, “god, you scared the hell out of me.”

doesn’t even need an apology. just needs you to look at him like you still want him. and he’ll forgive everything.

⏜︵ KAREN PAGE. 𐂯

tries so hard to pretend she’s unbothered. gives you space, keeps her smile in place, says “you okay?” like it’s a casual check-in — but underneath? she’s spinning.

the thing is, she knows what distance looks like. she knows what it means, and she’s terrified.

starts triple-checking her texts before she sends them. deletes the “hey, i miss you” message. adds “haha” at the end of a sentence she didn’t think was funny. she doesn’t want to seem like she cares too much.

but she does. she always does.

pulls back first sometimes just to protect herself. makes herself busy. says she’s working late. but she’s not. she’s sitting in the newsroom after hours with a cold coffee and your last conversation echoing in her head.

reads too far into everything. you cancel plans once? she assumes you’re over it. you don’t kiss her goodbye? she’s already thinking of all the ways she could’ve ruined it. she hates that she thinks like this. but she can’t help it.

plays your voicemail and closes her eyes like it’ll fix something. rubs her thumb over your contact name in her phone like it’s a talisman.

doesn’t say “are we okay?” she says “you’ve been quiet lately.” and makes it sound like she’s just making conversation — but her voice is too careful. her eyes don’t meet yours. she’s bracing for the worst.

keeps it together in front of people, but the second she’s alone? it hits her like a wave. leans against the door. breath catches in her throat.“don’t fall apart,” she whispers to herself. “don’t fall apart.”

still brings you coffee. still remembers how you like it. slides it across the table and shrugs, “thought you’d need it.” won’t say she’s scared. won’t say she misses you. but she’ll show you. in every tiny, aching way.

she’ll spiral quietly. but when you finally touch her, when you say “hey, i’m here” — she exhales like she’s been holding her breath for days. leans into your hand. closes her eyes. “don’t scare me like that again.” soft. raw. real.

the thing about karen? she’s tough. she’s been through hell. but love? yours? it’s the one thing that makes her feel safe — and the second she thinks she’s losing it? it’s like the floor disappears.

⏜︵ ELEKTRA. 𐂯

acts completely unbothered. borderline amused. you pull away during a kiss and she just smirks, says “losing your nerve?” like she’s not already rewriting every interaction in her head, desperate for a clue.

still calls you darling with a sweet, sharp smile. still walks into the room like nothing in the world could touch her.

but her hands shake when she pours her drink. her voice falters for half a second. you’d never notice unless you know her like you do.

says things like “you don’t want this anymore, do you?” low. soft. not quite a question. like she’s testing you. like she’s preparing herself to survive the answer — but she’s not.

doesn't beg. doesn't plead.

but suddenly, she’s showing up everywhere. your favourite café. the gala you mentioned once in passing. leans against the wall like a poem, eyes dark, voice smooth: “fancy seeing you here.”

she missed you so loud and dressed it up in silk and shadow.

deletes a text draft five times before sending “thinking of you.” then throws her phone across the bed and walks away like it didn’t matter at all. (she checks back 43 seconds later.)

if you ignore her? she goes deadly quiet. no jokes. no jabs. just this sharp stillness — a storm with no wind.

when you finally speak she exhales like you just pulled her out of the fire.

says “i’m not good at this” in a way that sounds like a threat — but it’s not. it’s a confession. because love, for her, is war. she’s terrified she’s losing.

kisses you like an apology. like an argument. like she needs to know you still want her. grips the back of your neck with trembling fingers, breath ragged: “you’re still mine, aren’t you?” and it’s not a power move — it’s panic, dressed in velvet.

makes it a game — disappears for a day, waits for you to call.

but when you don’t? she shows up at your door at midnight, mascara smudged, voice rough: “say you didn’t mean to pull away. say it and I’ll believe you.”

⏜︵ BEN POINDEXTER. 𐂯

he won’t admit it, but you pulled away for just a second and now he's analyzing every interaction. every word, every touch — it lingers in his mind. he overthinks it, replays every moment until he can’t breathe.

why didn’t you kiss him back just now? did he do something wrong? did you... see something in him that made you - -

his first instinct is to shut down, retreat into his head, calculating. he’ll give you space, too much space, because that’s what he thinks you want. but his heart is shattering with every passing second you’re not right there beside him.

when he catches you looking at someone else, just for a second, his eyes narrow. his chest tightens. he doesn’t say anything, but his hands curl into fists. the thought of you being out of his control — out of his orbit — it makes his stomach churn like razor blades.

he might smile like everything’s fine when you’re around, but when you leave? he’s running a fever in his mind. why didn’t you call? why didn’t you text back? what did he do wrong?

it only gets worse the longer he goes without hearing from you.

ben’s spirals are silent. his chest tightens. his face stays neutral, but his eyes never leave you when you’re in the same room. he studies the lines of your expression like he’s trying to understand you — decipher you.

the more you pull away, the more he pulls you into his mind, tighter, darker.

he needs reassurance, but he won’t ask for it. he’s the type to turn to you and say, “you’re still mine, right?” but in a voice that’s quiet and almost too calm, like he’s asking for confirmation. like it’s a question that could break him if you don’t answer.

at first, his love is a quiet obsession, a soft kind of pressure. but the more you pull away, the more he becomes a storm. his possessiveness becomes almost gentle at first: "come here." "don't leave me alone."

when the silence stretches too long he becomes frantic. "tell me what’s wrong.” he’ll demand, but it’s almost a plea.

his most terrifying moment is when you make him feel like he doesn’t matter to you. he doesn’t handle rejection. he can’t. when that happens? a switch flips, and he becomes a monster wrapped in a shell of politeness. he won’t beg — he doesn’t need to — but there’s a coldness in his eyes when he says, “you won’t walk away from me.”

when you apologize, even just a little, it’s like the air clears — his chest unclenches — and his fixation on you grows stronger.

you own him in ways that he can’t explain. the thought of losing you — even for a moment — sends him spiraling into his own darkness, desperately clutching at the only thing that feels real.

⏜︵ BILLY RUSSO. 𐂯

if you’re even slightly quieter than usual, he immediately goes “you good?” but not in a gentle way — more like a challenge. defensive, like he’s already bracing for the worst.

you say “i’m fine” and he nods like he believes you — but spends the next two hours replaying every word he’s said to you in the last 48 hours like he’s running a forensic investigation.

texts you “you mad at me?” with zero punctuation. follows up five minutes later with “you’d tell me if you were, right?” and then doesn’t text again, just waits in silence, suffering.

convinces himself you’re over him for a full 30 minutes before you even notice anything’s wrong.

starts doing extra. suddenly he’s picking you up with coffee in hand, ordering your favourite takeout, saying things like “thought you could use a break” when really he’s like please validate me before i implode.

tries to stay casual when you touch him again, but he melts like butter. smirks and says “missed me?” even though he was internally planning his own funeral five seconds ago.

says “you’ve been weird lately” like you’re the problem, just so you’ll explain yourself and he can stop spiraling.

brings up an old fight just to gauge where your head’s at. “you’re not still pissed about that thing from last week, right?” (he’s still pissed about it.)

he’s petty but panicking. like, “no no, it’s cool, you do your thing” and then watches your location like a psycho.

lowkey considers showing up wherever you are just to “bump into you” and make sure you still look at him like he’s the sun.

if you apologize or say something sweet, he tries to brush it off but crumbles. looks away, swallows hard, and mumbles “you scared the shit out of me.” like he wasn’t ready to fake his death five hours ago.

⏜︵ DINAH MADANI. 𐂯

tries to play it cool, but inside? she’s freaking out. a second of distance from you and suddenly, everything is uncertain. her mind starts racing: did I do something? did I push too hard? did I scare them off? she’ll push the panic down, but it’s still there — like a constant undercurrent, gnawing at her.

dinah is fiercely independent, but her love for you runs deeper than she’s willing to admit. she won’t beg for reassurance.

but when she notices the little things — like you don’t text her back as quickly or you’re distant during dinner — the anxiety starts to creep in.

you’re her safe place. she’s terrified of losing it. when you’re not paying attention to her, or when she notices someone else might be your main focus, it drives her insane.

she she doesn’t show it. she’ll make her presence known in subtle ways. a brush of her hand on your back, a low chuckle as she leans in close to whisper something only for you to hear. she’s claiming you, but she does it quietly — like she’s trying to reassure herself, more than anything.

if you don’t kiss her goodbye, or you’re acting a little cold, she’ll pretend it’s no big deal. but when you’re not looking, she’s watching the clock, wondering why you haven’t reached out. she won’t let herself seem weak, but the knot in her stomach grows tighter every time she checks her phone, waiting for your name to appear.

she’s a doer, so if you’ve pulled away, she’s going to fix it — even if it’s in her own quiet, controlled way.

she won’t bombard you with texts or try to push you into talking. Instead, she’ll do something thoughtful — get your favourite snack, take care of something you mentioned needing. she’s showing you she’s here, without asking for anything in return.

when she’s alone is when the doubts start eating at her. she won’t cry, she won’t let herself be vulnerable, but there’s a moment when she sits on the edge of the bed, running her fingers through her hair, staring at her phone screen, paralyzed by the fear of losing you.

she’ll tell herself she’s being silly. that she’s tough. but when she finally reaches for her phone to text you, her hands are shaking just a little.

when she finally speaks to you about it, it’s a fight that doesn’t feel like a fight. more like a need. “are you shutting me out? or am I just imagining it?” she’ll ask, voice a little too low, a little too careful. she just wants to know if you’re still there.

she’ll do everything she can to keep things normal when you’re together. when you’re apart, she becomes a storm. she’ll distract herself with work, throw herself into her cases, pretend she’s okay, but the second she comes back home to an empty apartment?

the silence is deafening. she can’t help but spiral. she can’t stop the thoughts: what if they’ve found someone else? what if they don’t want me anymore?

but when you come back to her, when you reassure her with a simple touch or a kind word, she’s putty in your hands. like she’s been holding her breath for days, waiting for you to remind her that she’s not alone, that you’re still hers, still with her. she’ll melt into your arms, exhaling with a soft sigh, almost embarrassed by how desperately she needed it. she won’t ask for reassurance, but when you give it to her? the whole world softens.

her jaw relaxes. her shoulders drop. she’ll lean in for that kiss, slow and deep, and you’ll feel the tension melt away, the part of her that was holding back, trying not to be too much, finally giving in to the love she so desperately craves.

⏜︵ MICRO. 𐂯

he’s probably the last person to realize that he's spiraling. when you pull away he doesn’t immediately process it. he’ll joke about it. the second you’re out of the room, he’s replaying every little thing — every conversation, every joke, every time you didn’t quite laugh at his bad puns, wondering what he did wrong.

his default is to distract himself. he’ll throw himself into a project, into his work. he’s gotta keep his hands busy. but he knows it’s only because he’s avoiding the obvious: he misses you. and that anxiety? It’s just simmering under the surface. every time he glances at his phone, waiting for a text, his stomach twists a little more.

when you pull back, he won’t call you out on it directly. instead you’ll notice him being a little more quiet than usual.

he’s usually a chatterbox, always tossing out jokes or asking you about random tech stuff, but now? he’s just... waiting. for you to come back. for you to want him again. this is different, and it’s making him self-conscious in ways he’s not ready to admit.

when he gets worried he starts showing up where you are — without meaning to, of course. he doesn’t even realize how much he’s checking up on you, but it’s a pattern. he’ll show up at your go-to diner, at the coffee shop you mentioned offhand once. “I, uh, just needed to grab a burger,” he’ll say, and you’ll know he’s lying. he was there to make sure you’re okay.

he’s incredibly self-aware of his own quirks, so when he realizes he’s spiraling, he tries to cover it up. “hey, I haven’t been bugging you too much, right?” he’ll laugh, but it’s strained, a little too quick. his eyes are wide with real concern, though, like he’s afraid you’ll say something that’ll shatter him. please don’t say you need space... please.

he’ll try to hide his anxiety with humor. “oh, yeah, I guess I could just hack into your phone and figure out what you’re doing... but I’d never do that. totally not my style. not in a million years. definitely not.” he laughs it off, but the undertone? It’s an ask for reassurance.

he’ll convince himself you don’t need him. he doesn’t want to admit it, but his mind starts doing the worst mental gymnastics: what if I’ve already lost them?

when you do check in, when you give him a little attention or even just a smile, the world stops spinning. his whole face lights up, and you can see the relief wash over him. the second he feels like you’ve come back, like you’re okay again, he’s all in.

he’ll go out of his way to do something nice for you, like fixing something you didn’t even know was broken. his way of saying, I’m here. I’m still yours. I won’t mess this up again.

“you know,” he’ll say, voice a little hesitant, “if you ever need, uh, anything fixed or... I don’t know, just someone to talk to, you’ve got me.“

doesn’t always know how to show how much he needs you — but you’ll see it in the way he lingers, in the way his eyes track you when you’re not looking. he’s scared of being too much, so he pulls back when you do, and it’s like a tug-of-war.

started 4.20.2025. finished 4.23.2025.

( masterlist )

©️ monicfever 2025

313 notes · View notes

rinsoap · 1 year ago

Text

SONGS THEY LOVE TO MAKE OUT TO!

✿²˖ ࣪ ➣ includes : suna rintaro. iwaizumi hajime. atsumu miya.

note : me after incorporating my music hyperfixation into all my works. also can u tell im so obsessed with all of these men's arms n hands.

SUNA RINTARO: REDBONE BY CHILDISH GAMBINO

makeouts with suna are always distracting you. this night was no different except for the fact that you're on the floor. well, you're sittting on the rug beside his bed that's pushed up to the wall. he's sitting against it, and you're in his lap facing him. you're on your phone, not paying attention to the boy directly in front of you, too busy trying to instruct one of your project partners on how to use microsoft. suna is not usually jealous. who cares if someone's into you? it's not like they have a chance. you never entertain them anyways. he just misses you. he was out of the city for a week for an away game, and he's hardly kissed you since he left. he's had awaken, my love! by childish gambino playing for a while now, head lolling back on the bed, bored out of his mind. "babyyyy" he hums in complaint after you giggle at your phone. "hold on rin, i'm almost done... god these people are so stupid, i swear i'm literally carrying this project" you roll your eyes as your fingers fly across the screen, the tapping filling the silence until your boyfriend groans and brings his head up to look at your pretty face. the intro of redbone kicks in, and his mind starts racing, thinking about all the times he's kissed your lips to this song. his hand snakes around your waist, and you feel his thumb start tracing hearts into your skin. "you're too pretty to be worrying about school," suna pouts, "you should pay attention to... other things..." his suspicious trail off causing your eyes to flick to his face, but before you could find his eye contact, he was planting kisses onto your neck. "rin," you whine, winding up to tell him off, but he makes his way up to your jaw, grinning against your cheek when you catch his eye. "rin i can't..." you sigh, incredibly receptive to his touch despite your words, dropping your phone still open on your messages to wrap your arms around his shoulders. "you just look so beautiful, can’t stop myself," he mumbles before pressing his lips against yours, hands making their way to hold the dip between your jaw and neck. you lean into his desperate kiss, and when your fingers carress the nape of his neck, you feel him smile. "missed you so much baby"

IWAIZUMI HAJIME: NIGHTS BY FRANK OCEAN

makeouts with iwaizumi always start out polite. it's always just one kiss, something casual, until he starts getting needier. you had dragged your boyfriend into another late afternoon nap, him shirtless, and you wearing one of his faded graphic t-shirts. you're woken by the sunlight beaming through iwaizumi's ineffective blinds. his arm is lazily holding you and he's laying on his stomach, you're on your back. you place your hand on his forearm and hum along to the end of hold on by the internet. you had forgotten you put on a playlist. you hear iwaizumi grunt and you giggle. "you awake finally?" he teases, turning on his side to face you and you do the same. "take a guess, genius" you quip back and he tsks. he doesn't say anything though, chest to chest and noses touching, he just stares into your eyes. sometimes he wakes up with you next to him and he is baffled at how he managed to pull someone as gorgeous as you. his eyes only break from yours to flick to your lips, and you can tell he's trying to be discreet by the way they immediately dart back. the song changes, and you both smile at each other knowingly. you were about to exclaim that he should just kiss you, but he interrupts that thought to oblige, and your face goes hot. his kisses still gave you butterflies despite being with him for so long. you kiss him back, matching the way he deepens it, hands over your hips as he pulls you onto him. you gasp at the sudden nature of it, and he grins against your mouth. you break free and move your hands from the sides of his face to his bare chest, but he pulls you closer to kiss up your shoulder and your collarbones and ultimately brings you back to kiss him. as the beat switches, his strong arms hold you tighter, closing whatever distance the two of you might have had before. he groans in your mouth when your hands tangle in his hair, tugging on it slightly when he quietly mumbles, "i love you". he could kiss you all day if he could, and he acts like it.

MIYA ATSUMU: ONE NIGHT ONLY BY SONDER

makeouts with atsumu are intense and frequent. he loves pda, he's the type of guy to use any excuse to show off his girl, and is that such a crime?! he needs to stop kissing you at parties though, i fear you've become that couple. you were both a little tipsy, and when atsumu drinks, he can't take his hands off of you. so when he started kissing on your neck, you rushed him to the bathroom to avert everyone's eyes from the pda. you shut the door behind you, and atsumu quickly takes the opportunity to close the distance between you two until he had you pressed against the door. "oh, hey," you say with a sarcastic smirk that he matches. "hi baby," he bites his lip, looking you up and down and then back to your eyes, "you look so fucking good... i couldn't stop looking at ya, princess" he knows he's not subtle. your heart beats to the bass of the song playing through the door as he cups your cheeks in his big hands. he leans in to kiss you fervently, leaving you breathless and almost as needy as him. his hands thread through your hair and yours do the same as he nips at your lips playfully. you giggle and he pulls back just enough to speak, resting his forehead on yours. "you're so perfect" is all he says before he starts peppering you face and neck with soft kisses, working his way up back to your lips to capture you in a kiss much more intense comparatively. his hands roam your back, and you melt into his touch as the two of you intertwine. the world fades away, it's just you and him and the song. "hey are y'all done in there or what?" osamu knocks irritably, gladly interrupting you much to both of your displeasure. you laugh, and atsumu rolls his eyes. "yeah yeah whatever," he calls out, planting one last kiss on your cheek before you drag him out of the bathroom, "this will be continued later, promise you baby" he's so corny

1K notes · View notes

harmomay · 2 months ago

Text

LADS MEN with an autistic s/o!!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

xavier, zayne, rafayel & sylus

Suprisingly knows a lot about it! Goes as far as to be aware of the whole ‘masking’ process.

Generally speaking, he’s a free weighted blanket. Will go out of his way to make sure he’s wearing clothing without that texture when cuddling.

His whole home is pretty much an autism safe space already. No overhead lighting. Everywhere is soft and quiet.

Not being the most expressive man out there, he definitely empathises and understands if you do the same thing. Especially if going nonverbal/are overwhelmed. Will print out a bunch of those communication cards, might even use some of them himself.

Sometimes is taken aback by sudden moments of hyperfocus, silently observing with interest as your attention span for this one thing is seemingly unbreakable.

Personally prefers the straight-to-the-point conversations.

If you get tired a lot, especially from socialisation, he will definitely encourage nap times after work.

Immediately asks what he can do to support you. As a doctor, he’s very much used to the medical approach and may be more focused on how it negatively impairs your life. Though, he’s quick to change his perspective.

The more he does independent research as well as the input from you, the more he resonates with a lot of the traits. Personally, I see a lot of autistic traits such as social awkwardness, hyperfixations etc. (though important to acknowledge there are social factors as to why he’s so ‘cold’) in him and let’s be real- he’s probably at one point been told by someone he’s autistic. Hadn’t really looked into it until you came along.

Personally I think that Zayne is such a good doctor in the story is because he empathises with his patients on a much deeper level, but isn’t really good at expressing it externally (hence the ‘coldness’)- something which i’ve found through experience seems to correlate with a lot of autistic peoples’ experiences

He probably knows a few good pediatricians, occupational therapists and asks for recommendations regarding accommodations for you. Your experiences also encourage him to bring more awareness to sensory-friendly spaces within the hospital for patients.

Will get butterflies in his stomach listening to you infodump about your latest fixation, noting the way your eyes have that light in them and you speak with such passion about it.

“Hey, I’M the one who’s artistic!”

Completely misinterprets it at first, but immediately realises his mistake once you repeated yourself. Being in the art space, he’s come across a few artists who had communicated about their experience within their work. Even with his limited knowledge, he’s eager to find out more. Maybe even be an inspiration for another piece. Referring to overstimulation as a tsunami makes him understand it better. Talk to him about autism in fishy terms please.

If there’s a certain texture you like, he’d incorporate it into his pieces upon the pretense of ‘being innovative’ within his art.

Prepares an allocated room for your sensory accommodations. If you need white noise, the beach waves are just an added bonus.

If you tend to speak in a blunt/matter-of-fact manner, he finds it very endearing and easier to tease you. Though, it can take him off guard sometimes depending on what you say.

Unconsciously picks up some of your stims. If you flap your hands around as a stim, he WILL call you a fish. Might also ask if you’re doing a mating ritual. Though, only if he’s sure that you’re in a mood for his comments.

Changes some of the ways he communicates to you so it’s more straight-forward/doesn’t rely on social cues.

You had best believe that this man would immediately provide a room in his base specifically catered toward your sensory needs. Essentially, it’s a personalised panic room. Here are the requirements he gave Luke and Kieran to organise:

A/C and Heating are completely adjustable

Dim/Gentle lighting

Couches, Beds, Beanbags

Weighted Blankets, Plushies

Soundproof Panelling

Shelves to store items regarding special interests

ALWAYS HAVE ADDITIONAL SET OF HEADPHONES!

Drawers for fidgets.

The twins, although their lore is quite limited, feel to me like they have ADHD. Otherwise, Sylus has a little bit of knowledge regarding some traits as they often overlap. Nonetheless, he will happily listen and have Mephisto take notes.

Finds the different thinking process a very valuable tool in his field of work. Sometimes you’d pick up on some random detail that not even Mephisto could recognise and he’d just smile to himself.

He empathises a lot with being the target of social outcasting, and if it does occur to you his heart will practically shatter. Resonates with you on a deeper level.

271 notes · View notes

bbeoms · 1 year ago

Text

rugby!simon headcanons

hello, my sports hyperfixation this summer is rugby union, thus here i present you my rugby player simon riley brainrot! decided to write it cause why not???? someone needed to bring this idea to life. i hope you enjoy <3

fluff, suggestive, slight hurt/comfort

- plays as a forward (more specifically, second row/lock) so he’s always there during a scrum!

- and as we know, forwards are usually huge men 🤭 so 6’4 117kg simon is the perfect candidate

- you have to restrain yourself every time he’s in his kit cause have you seen how tight their jerseys and shorts are?????

- you can’t help but stare at how the fabric hugs his pecs and how the sleeves are lowkey cutting off circulation to his arms cause of how large his biceps are (and the way his tattoos peek out from the sleeves? chefs kiss)

- hikes up his shorts when he knows you’re watching and smirks when he catches you staring at the thick muscle of his thighs

- avoids wearing his kit around you when you’re ovulating cause he’s not sure he can control himself with the way you eye him like you’re ready to pounce

- (he learned his lesson after that one time you went to a match when you were ovulating. simon didn’t think it was possible, but you managed to milk him dry after you guys went home that night 💀 the hormones made you too feral until you managed to make him tap out lmao)

- anyone else become possessed by a succubus during ovulation?,,,,,, just me?,,,,, okay,,,,

- doesn’t usually wear a scrum cap during his matches

- but there was a couple of times he had to wear it (per the doctors recommendation) to protect stitches he had near his ear

- “ohmygod si you look like the end of a pencil ✏️”

- sulked at your teasing, he didn’t want to wear it either 😭

- you cooed and proceeded to shower his face with lil kisses until he forgave you

- felt his heart melt when you squished your cheek to his and took a selfie, your smile wide as you laugh at the way his blond strands were cutely sticking out of the cap (and how he still, looked like the end of a pencil)

- made it his lockscreen immediately

- being a rugby girlfriend isn’t always fun and games though

- it’s an extremely physical and dangerous sport and although you’d like to think simon is invincible, he’s still human

- it’s hard to believe but there are quite a number of players that are taller and heavier than him (you can’t say they have the same skill set though, simon is really good at his job)

- there’s always an underlying feeling of anxiety every time you watch him play

- injuries are a given

- split skin, bleeding ears and broken bloody noses are some of the more tame injuries you’ve seen simon get.

- simon coos at your tears and furrowed eyebrows whenever you tend to his injuries during rest days

- you don’t like seeing your man hurt!!!! :(((

- (okay but it is pretty hot when he gets all bloody in the face like in the first picture like hello??? lemme jump on you)

- straddling his lap while wiping the dried blood off his eyebrow

- “gimme a kiss”

- being cheeky and steals a kiss on your lips after you ignore his request

- reassures you that he’s alright and reminds you that he’s had worse injuries

- you give him a glare, silently telling him to not remind you of that time you thought he died on the pitch

- simon got hit with a high tackle, the fucker that was attempting to tackle him had his shoulder straight into simon’s neck (the guy got a red card deservingly) knocking simon back and motionless on the pitch

- you watched in horror as multiple bodies pile on top of him, not noticing that simon was out cold

- soon enough, the team’s medics were on field and stretching him away for treatment

- simon still feels your gentle touch on his face that day, thumb rubbing his cheek willing him to be okay

- he still remembers the look on your face despite being concussed. distraught, dried tears staining your cheeks.

- you were so scared, you didn’t know how bad his concussion was and what the aftermath of such injury would entail.

- he’d never felt such tenderness before

- he couldn’t believe that someone cared about him that much, didn’t think that he would ever find someone to love him like you do

- whispers i love you for the first time in his dazed state

- decides at that point that he won’t let you go, and has become a simp ever since <3

left to right pics: david pocock, tariq sims, chris robshaw (<- he would lowkey make a good simon riley imo)

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley fluff #cod fluff #call of duty #cod #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley headcanons #simon riley x you #ghost x you #rugby!simon #rugby au

872 notes · View notes

theemporium · 2 years ago

Text

“Baby, please.”

“Shhh, focus on your game, honey.”

“Just let me—”

“Eyes on the screen.”

It was torture. It was absolute fucking torture and it was driving him mad. Was it somewhat self-inflicted? Maybe so. But Jack Hughes didn’t believe the punishment matched the crime, in fact he thought it was far worse. Not that he would say as much, not when the risk that you’d torture him even more lingered in the air.

To be fair, he had been neglecting you—even if it wasn’t a conscious choice.

It was summer. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping and for the next few months, Jack was relieved from all his hockey duties and responsibilities. This meant lazy days to lie in bed a little longer, to eat a little less healthy, to enjoy time with his family and friends and girlfriend until hockey season came back around and he was forced to leave on long roadies.

You and Jack had actually decided to visit the lakehouse a little earlier than everyone else this year, long before his family or even his friends showed up. It was a win-win, with you and Jack getting (what was meant to be) a romantic getaway and Luke getting the Jersey apartment all to himself.

Except, it wasn’t the romantic getaway you expected with your boyfriend.

You weren’t under any false illusions. You and Jack were never an overly romantic couple. You weren’t expecting picnics by the lake or date nights on the boat or home-cooked meals shared over candlelight. That wasn’t how you two worked. That wasn’t the kind of couple you were. But you expected at least some attention from your boyfriend in the week you had alone before everyone else arrived.

Instead, he had stupidly listened to Trevor and Cole bang on about some video game and, without realising it, the boy had become addicted in the last few days. He was on the console, laughing and yelling with his friends he would see in less than two weeks and you were losing your mind.

You tried to ask him to join you for dinner, and he would just promise you he would join in a couple of minutes. You tried to catch up on some alone time when you were both crawling into bed, but he would either be half-asleep or rambling about the game. You had even tried to seduce the boy with a lacy set you brought with you as a surprise, and he didn’t even notice the number peeking out from under your robe.

Jack was usually an attentive boyfriend, and you knew he was only like this because he was hyperfixated on the game.

But you were fucking sick of it. You wanted your boyfriend back. You wanted him all for yourself. And you were going to show him what he was missing while he was focused on the silly, little videogame.

“Shit,” he murmured, his breathing a little heavy as he tried to keep his eyes focused on the screen. As he tried to focus on his little figurine, as he tried to focus on the bullets flying his way from all directions, as he tried to focus on anything except his scandalously-clad girlfriend currently grinding down on his thigh.

Those little shorts he owned were the death of you. And if Jack wasn’t going to fuck you, then you decided you would just have to get yourself off, maybe even remind him of what he could have had if he hadn’t been so focused on something else.

“Careful,” you teased, your voice a little shaky as you rolled your hips. “One button and they’ll hear you, baby. They’ll hear you begging to touch me. They’ll hear your pretty cries to fuck me.”

“Baby,” Jack rasped, his hooded eyes focusing on your face for a short few moments before his gaze dropped to your tits that were threatening to spill out of the lacy nightgown you were wearing. “Please.”

“Maybe I’ll turn the microphone on myself,” you continued, a taunting tone lacing your suggestive words. “Maybe I’ll let them hear how good I feel. Maybe I’ll tell them that I don’t even need you touching me to get off.”

His jaw clenched, the controller in his hands lying limp in his hold as he watched you reach up to squeeze your tits, pinching and rolling your nipples between your fingers.

“Fuck, Jack,” you moaned out, your head tilting back as you began to speed up. “These stupid fuckin’ thighs. Gonna be the death of me.”

“Babe,” Jack pleaded once again, his fingers itching to reach out and grip your thighs. To properly pull you onto his lap and feel you grinding down on his dick instead. To just be inside you while you make those pretty noises.

“You’ve not been a good boy, Jack,” you whispered, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt yourself quickly approaching the edge. “Only good boys get to fuck me.”

“I’ll be your good boy,” he breathed out, his blood rushing to his cock as he watched you grip the fabric of his shirt, leaning against him as your tempo increased.

“Yeah? You wanna be my good boy?” You questioned, your lips twitching upwards as you watched him vigorously nod his head. You leaned forward, your fingers squishing his cheeks together as he let out a small whimper. “You think you deserve to fuck me?”

“Please,” he whimpered out.

Your mouth fell open as you finally tipped over the edge, feeling your orgasm wash over your body as you let out a pathetically loud moan. You gripped onto him as you came, letting the pleasure rush through you as you left his thigh wet and soaking and dripping with your arousal. You leaned your forehead against his shoulder as you catched your breath, as you felt his racing heartbeat beneath your palm.

“If you wanna fuck me, you’re gonna have to prove you deserve it,” you told him, still a little breathless and rough. “On your knees, baby. Wanna see that pretty face of yours between my legs.”

The game was long abandoned as Jack quickly moved to complete your request, his cheeks already flushing with need. “Yes, ma’am.”

#cece's smutober #jack hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes fic #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes smut #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot #nhl smut

2K notes · View notes