#and then just ghost me with barely anything for an apology

[sentientgolfball]

Hey, could you be able to draw or write about Copia x Aether? In nsfw pls!! <3

This one really got away from me and end up being 3k words. damn.

Anyways this is just some really soft copiaeth because they're in love I don't make the rules

I hope you like it :3

MDNI 18+

Everything had moved so fast after Terzo got replaced. A whole new pack was summoned. Dew became a fire ghoul. New uniforms were thrusted into their hands. They were all introduced to the Cardinal that would be taking over the Ghost Project with new music shoved into their hands. Between helping Dew recover and learning the dynamics of the new pack, Aether barely had any time to assess how he felt about it all. Especially how he felt about that Cardinal. 

He seemed cocky and overconfident the first few times they met, boasting about how he’d wipe the floor with Terzo. It made Aether’s hackles raise the way he talked about his Papa. The moment they started spending more time together though Aether realized it was all for show. He’d come to visit Dew late at night in the infirmary when he thought nobody was around. He’d sit with him, praying to the Lords Below his recovery was swift. On one occasion Aether overheard him apologizing for Dew’s condition, voice cracking with the admission that Terzo would’ve done the ritual better. Aether kept a closer eye on the Cardinal after that night. 

Once the band started rehearsing his true nature shone right through whatever mask the Clergy made him feel forced to wear. He was awkward albeit kind. He praised every ghoul individually after each rehearsal. He was laidback with them, more so than any of the previous Papas. Aether couldn’t help but grow a fondness for him. 

It didn’t help that Copia seemed to be returning the feeling. When Dew was well enough to leave the infirmary he still visited, blaming the nightly visits on his insomnia. He’d always drift around the corridors until he bumped into Aether. They’d chat in low whispers so as not to disturb any patients, Aether would ask if there was anything he could do to help, and Copia would only respond with a stutter and a shrug. When it got closer to tour and he seemed to be living in his office and the rehearsal room, Aether would check on him to make sure he wasn’t working himself to death. The first night Copia asked Aether to stay, just needing some company while he worked on some final logistics, was when he knew the Cardinal was more to him than just his superior. 

It became exponentially worse once on tour. Aether didn’t know if it was just for the fans or if it was Copia’s own strange form of flirting, but everytime those gloved fingers ran up his leg Aether felt fire in his veins. The night that hand drifted to caress his inner thigh while Copia went on and on about how big and strong he is ruined him. Dew laughed at him once they were off stage for having to hide his half hard dick the rest of the show. All because the sweet, awkward little Cardinal got his hands on him. 

Tonight’s show was Aether’s breaking point. Everything was going smooth until it was time for introductions after If You Have Ghosts. Copia kneeled, resting his head against his hip. He dragged the tip of his finger up his leg following the inseam of his pants. 

“Well built…everywhere” Copia’s hand was so close to his rapidly thickening cock. All he had to do was shift his weight and he’d be palming him in front of hundreds of people. 

Aether cracked his neck, trying to force the thought out of his head. Just as quick as that hand was on him, the feeling of warm leather disappeared. He moved out of the heat of the spotlight, standing in the low blue beside Swiss’ stage. He needed to get himself under control before a fan got a different kind of show. Luckily Copia was on the other side of the stage introducing Cirrus and Cumulus. He felt like he could breathe. 

“We can smell you ya know” Swiss bent to whisper into Aethers ear. 

“Swiss not now.” 

“Then when big guy” he laughs “everyone knows you wanna fuck him. Can’t say I blame you though with how fucking tight those pants are.” 

Aether turns his attention to his guitar, tuning it to avoid thinking about Copia’s costume choices. Swiss leans in closer. 

“If you don’t make a move then I might just see if I can catch a cardinal.” 

Aether doesn’t have time to tell Swiss off, before he knows it Copia’s finished with introductions and moving on to the next song in the set. He spends the rest of the show thinking about that pit that settled in his stomach with Swiss’ insinuation. He can’t help the way his eyes track Copia across the stage. Fuck why did he have to wear white? If he let his mind go farther than the music he could feel the caress of hands. 

Bows came around and he was reluctant to hand his guitar off to the techie. He was well aware of the bulge of his half hard cock. Dew slapped his ass with a wink when he wandered over to his side to throw some picks and he’s never been more grateful for the mask. He rushes to his spot between Cumulus and Swiss, wanting nothing more than to get to the hotel and take a cold shower. Swiss and Cumulus snicker at the state of him. 

The time it takes to get off stage and into his after show clothes is a blur. Before he knows it he’s standing outside waiting for the van to pull around. He’s so lost in his own thoughts he doesn’t notice Copia slide up next to him. 

“You disappeared before I could ehh speak with you.” 

“About what?” Aether glanced sideways at him, admiring his side profile. The proud jut of his nose. 

“You.” 

“Me?” 

Was Copia finally making a move on him that wasn’t just public fondling? It took Aether by surprise, he never would’ve guessed that awkward little man would have the gall. He’s done nothing but surprise Aether since they met, and he’s dying to see what else the Cardinal is hiding. 

“Your performance tonight you did not seem as ehh energetic as your usual self. Are you feeling well?” 

Of course not. 

“I’m fine, Cardinal. Just a bit of shoulder pain but it’s nothing.” 

Copia hums, nodding in response. They stand in silence as the rest of the ghouls slowly fill in. They wait outside for another five minutes before the van that’ll take them to the hotel pulls around. They pile in one by one and Aether almost has a moment of relief before he sees Copia sitting where Mountain usually does. Right next to him. Mountain is in the front seat greeting the driver. Copia must notice the staring because he clears his throat. 

“He asked me to switch seats. His ehh legs were bothering him and he did not want to be cramped back here.” 

Aether just nods and gets settled. He stares out the window once the van starts rolling away from the venue. He definitely isn’t thinking about how he can feel Copia’s thigh pressed against his. How small it is compared to him. He definitely isn’t letting his mind wander, thinking of all the ways he could prove to Copia just how strong and well built he is. 

He’s pulled from his mind when he feels a hand on his shoulder, squeezing ever so slightly. Before he can even begin to fathom a response it’s rubbing firm circles across his back. 

“You looked a little ehh tense, are you sure your shoulder isn’t an issue?” 

Oh this man was going to be the death of him. 

“I’m sure” he smiles but judging from Copia’s expression it reads more as a grimace “but thanks for the concern.” 

It wasn’t long before they were at the hotel. The proximity to Copia had done nothing to help the feeling of his cock pressing uncomfortably against his pants. He offered to carry extra luggage just so he could have something to hide behind while Copia got keycards for everyone at the front desk. Luckily it was late and there weren't many people hanging in the lobby. Copia got their cards, passing them out before they split into smaller groups to ride the elevator up to their floor. Unfortunately that meant Aether was pressed into the confined space with the Cardinal. Swiss and Rain were there too. He could feel their eyes on him, could practically hear Swiss’ teasing tone. 

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. The group walked silently through the halls. It’s not the nicest place they’ve been in, the carpeted floor had a few odd stains and the colors didn’t quite match. As long as the shower worked Aether would be happy. Swiss and Rain split first, saying their goodnights when they slipped into their individual rooms. 

Of course it was left to just him and Copia. Why wouldn’t it be? 

Their rooms were at the end of the hallway, right across from each other. When they got to their doors they lingered for just a moment. Copia’s hand brushed ever so slightly against Aether’s when he wished him a goodnight. He turned to unlock his door before Aether could react. When his mind caught up he only had one thought. 

I can’t take this anymore. 

Before he knows what he’s doing, he’s pushing Copia into his room and shutting the door behind them. He drops his bags to the floor in favor of caging him against the wall. Copia yelps with the suddenness of it. 

“I’m tired of your teasing, Cardinal. You went too far tonight.” 

“Settle down Aether, what about your shoulder? I can’t be out of a guitarist.” 

There’s a tilt to his voice that tells Aether all he needs to know. 

“So how long were you going to play innocent?” 

“I never claimed to be anything” Copia smiles up at him. 

He runs his hands over Aether’s arms, slowly dragging his fingertips up until he can cradle his face. 

“I have been curious about you since I met you, my ghoul. The others they ehh look at you like you are the reason the stars shine at night. I wanted to learn why.” 

This catches Aether off guard. The softness of it. He was prepared for banter, teases being swapped back and forth until he was able to bully Copia into the bed, but this vulnerability isn’t what he was expecting from the eccentric Cardinal. Every little thing he learned about him just solidified that fondness that had bloomed in him. He can’t help himself when he leans to capture Copia in a kiss. It’s nothing more than a gentle press of lips, but the sigh Copia lets out coupled with the way he sags into the touch has Aether’s head spinning. 

He wants to feel him pressed against him. He wants to drink every delicious noise from him. He wants to see that proud nose buried in the thick hair at the base of his cock. He wants to catch this cardinal and never let him go. 

When they break apart Aether can’t help but admire the deep blush that spills from his cheeks to his throat. He runs a clawed hand through his hair. 

“I’ll show you anything you want Copia.” 

“Dei in basso aiutami.” 

Aether chuckles and pulls him off the wall. He picks up both of their bags and walks into the room to set them on yeh chair in the corner of the room. He rummages around in his own for a moment before pulling out a half empty bottle of lube. He nearly drops it when he turns  back around only to find Copia sitting on the edge of the bed in nothing but his boxers, clothes discarded near the bathroom door. 

Aether doesn’t think he’s seen a more beautiful human. The hair that covers his chest down to his navel, the swell of his tummy, the tattoo that’s been hidden on his pec. He can’t get enough of it all. He sets the lube down on the nightstand and shucks his own hoodie off. Copia stares up at him, not thinking when he reaches out to run his fingers through the thick fur on Aether’s belly. 

“Soft” he muses to himself. He gasps when the stardust threaded into the fur shimmers under his touch. 

“I can see why the others are so enraptured with you.” 

Aether huffs a genuine laugh “you haven’t seen anything.” 

“Then indulge me my ghoul.” 

Aether slots himself between Copia’s legs, hands coming up to cup his face. He kisses him again, this time with more fervor. He licks across the seam of Copia’s lips, searching for entrance. When he drops his mouth open Aether tilts his head to get a deeper angle. He licks into his mouth, shoves that forked tongue down his throat. Tasting just to taste. 

He crowds Copia back, pushing him so that he’s laying flat on the bed. He doesn’t break contact as he slides up to straddle his hips, drinking down the groan Copia lets out when their clothed cocks brush against each other. Aether can’t help but grind down to hear him make that noise again. And again. And again. 

He breaks the kiss for just a moment, just to look at him. Kiss swollen lips and saliva dribbling down the corner of his mouth. Aether bends back down to kiss across his jawline, moving up to suck and bite just under his ear before trailing down to mark his neck. He sucks deep bruises onto his throat he knows the makeup team will scold him for tomorrow. He can’t help it, he needs everyone to know he got the Cardinal first. 

He trails further down, leaving open mouthed kisses down his entire abdomen. He pauses his ministrations to nose at his cock through his boxers before hooking a claw into the waistband and pulling them down. Copia shudders when the cool air of the room hits his flushed dick. He cranes his neck to look down at Aether. Oh was that a mistake. The hungry look in his purple eyes makes his stomach swoop, a thick blurt of pre pearling at his tip. Aether holds his eye contact as he unfurls his tongue, licking from root to tip before swiping his tongue to taste him. He presses a kiss to the tip of his dick before pulling away. Copia makes a mixed sound of wounded and confused and Aether can’t help but laugh. 

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Aether shucks his own pants and boxers off before grabbing the lube off the nightstand. He can feel Copia’s eyes rack over him and he can't help but be a little cocky. 

“See something you like?” 

“Dio qui sotto you are the most beautiful thing I have laid my eyes on.” 

Fuck Aether was beyond his limit. He couldn’t take the sweet words from the Cardinal anymore. He uncaps the bottle and squirts a generous amount of lube onto his fingers. With the clean hand, he spreads Copia’s legs open to settle between them. He rubs his fingers together, spreading the lube before brushing the tips against his rim. He traces his hole with the tip of a claw until Copia is shaking, hips twitching, searching for more. Carefully Aether slips one finger into his hole, groaning at how tight he is. 

“I’ve thought about this for so long” Aether pumps that thick finger in and out of him. 

“Give me more please give me more” Copia begs from above. 

He could draw this out. Take as much time as he wanted savoring every twitch and hitched breath, but Aether wants this. Bad. He can save the teasing for another night. He slips a second finger into him, reveling in the wet sound that echoes through the room. He curls those fingers, pumping them in and out until Copia is shaking, a mix of Italian and English falling from his lips. 

He pulls out, grabbing the lube and squirting more into his hand. He jacks himself slowly, spreading a mix of lube and pre over the length of his thick cock. He positions the tip to brush against Copia’s waiting hole and they both groan. He bends to capture him in a kiss when he pushes in. He’s so tight it drives Aether insane. He should’ve given him a third finger, but fuck he couldn’t wait anymore. He had to be inside of him. It's almost agonizing how slow Aether sinks into the warmth of his body. Inch by inch until he’s fully seated inside. By the time Aether’s hips are flush with Copia’s they’re both shaking. 

He’s still for a moment before giving an experimental roll of his hips. Copia makes a strangled sound and for a second Aether thinks he might’ve hurt him. Copia wraps his legs around Aether, keeping him close. 

“If you do not start moving I am going to lose my mind.” 

Aether doesn’t need to be told twice. He sets a steady rhythm, not quite pounding into him but enough to pull a sigh out of Copia each time he pushes back in. Aether’s head spins with the sweet noises. He clenches down on his cock with the next stroke and Aether nearly chokes. He digs his claws into the bedding near Copia’s head and fucks into him harder. 

“Touch yourself” he pants, watching the words register in Copia’s mind. 

His eyes flutter closed when he gets a hand on himself. Aether can’t look away as he starts to stroke himself in time with each of his thrusts. The pinch between his brow, the way he chews his bottom lip each time Aether drags over his prostate, the deep blush that’s spilled down to chest. Fuck if he could take a picture he would. He etches that face into his memory, something to go back to when he’s alone. 

He watches a thick bead of pre squirt into Copia’s happy trail the same time he clenches hard around his cock. He knows he’s close. He picks up his pace, thrusting into him until the sound of skin against skin is deafening, desperate to cum when he does. 

“Aether oh fuck don’t stop.” 

Aether bends, sucking at the place where neck meets shoulder, grinding deep inside of him. A combination of a well timed thrust and fangs grazing against skin is all Copia needs. He spills hot between them, coating both of their stomachs with rope after rope of cum, a broken moan following. Aether double downs, rutting and spreading the mess further. Copia wraps his arms around his shoulders, leaving open mouthed kisses across his face. Lips drift too close to the base of one of his horns and sensation is enough to throw him off his own edge. His mouth falls open in a silent scream, cumming deep inside of him. He hips rock forward at their own accord with each twitch of dick. 

He pants, pausing for a moment to catch his breath before running a hand through Copia’s sweaty hair. Nothing but affection fills his eyes and it makes Aether’s heart beat that much faster. He turns his head and kisses the wrist that’s still by his face. 

Aether carefully pulls out of him, rubbing his hands over his thighs to soothe the muscles. He crawls into the bed to rest against the headboard before pulling Copia over to rest against his chest. They’re sticky and sweaty but neither of them seem to care in that moment. 

“I can see it now. Why everyone looks at you the way they do. You truly are something my ghoul.” 

“And all it took was getting my dick in you.” 

“That’s not—I didn’t mean it like that” Copia stutters, blush returning to his face at the insinuation. 

Aether chuckles “Relax I was only teasing. I think it’s fair after what you put me through.” 

Copia hums. Silence falls over them as they bask in each other's company, too tired to even think about moving. Aether is fading in and out of consciousness when he hears him clear his throat. 

“You were serious? When you ehh said you had been thinking about this”

“You have no idea” he pressed a kiss to the top of his head. 

Copia smiles to himself, content with the sentiment. He settles against Aether, tucking his nose into the crook of his neck. He falls asleep with those big, well built arms holding him like he was something to cherish.

#the band ghost #ghost bc #nameless ghouls #the band ghost fic #aether ghoul #cardinal copia #ghost copia #aether x copia #18+ mdni #golfball writes

[icicledream-archive]

man someone really ended a friendship with me bc i made. a dumb joke. about a ship i don't like. huh.

#hoo hoo! #vent cw #sorry for suddenly venting on main i just thought abt this situation again and i just got. sad? mad? yeah. those. #anyway it would be totally different if this was like #a stranger/mutual softblocking me for not liking a ship they like #cuz like! i get that!! curate ur online space!! #but no we were Friends. we hit off really well too or so i thought? #came to me in dms yelling at me for this joke and i had to tell them the ship was triggering to me for them to stop. #but no a whole friendship ended over a dumb joke about a ship #typical fandom member moment i guess lmao #idk i just feel like that's such a dumb/mean way to end a friendship that was otherwise going really well. #idk it just really hurt me that i had to tell them the ship was triggering to me for them to stop getting on my ass about a joke #and then just ghost me with barely anything for an apology

[averlym]

Could I request a drawing of any sauceback from Sagan 4?

sorry anon! thank you for liking my art enough to request something, but unfortunately i don't do requests for fandoms i'm not in ;-;

#right now i'm barely able to doodle for the fandoms i have ideas for #so i'm a bit unwilling to branch out for requests. terribly sorry #maybe one day when everything settles and i can set up commissions?.. (would anyone even buy) i'd take anything you paid me to draw #but since requests are for free...? lately i've been doing art as favours for friend and going uncredited and unpaid so i'm a bit tired #and i guess over the years of observing saying no is an option and probably preferable to the ask being ghosted .. um #for the other asks in my inbox i do plan to get to them someday.. there's just zero set schedule because again; i'm doing it for fun/free #apologies again anon for any disappointment or inconvenience :' #have a good day #ask me stuff???

[avatarchic]

— FOREIGNER

How the Karasuno boys would react to meeting Shoyo's foreign cousin.

— starring. karasuno boys x foreign exchange student!reader (separately), student teacher!reader in ukai's

— tags. fluff, first meetings, pining

— warnings. use of 'pretty' and 'cute' to describe reader, but no pronouns are used, you slap ryuu in his LOL, mild suggestive comment in ryuu's if you squint

— requested? yes! thank you so much for your request this was fun to write :)

— notes. some of these are longer than others sorry ADHKWH my biases are showing a lil // this ended up being a first meeting + how they act when they start crushing on you, but it they're so cute so i didnt wanna change it lolol

daichi is whipped for you from the start

he doesn't show it (or he doesn't think he does) but he's attracted to you the second he lays eyes on you

he's extra sure to be polite to you, too embarrassed too show his brasher nature in case it scares you off

he loses his backbone whenever you're around

he needs to scold some of the first years for goofing off, but you're standing there? he's all sunshine and rainbows

when he finds out that you're a foreign exchange student, he's over the moon

he subtly finds out your classes from shoyo, who of course doesn't realize his intentions as he blurts out your schedule happily

he checks up on you often, making sure you're adjusting well to japan because "what kind of captain would he be if he let his underclassman's cousin have a hard time?"

the team is none the wiser, except for maybe koshi who sees through his shit immediately

he has a habit of patting your head as a greeting, even if he's just passing you in the hallways even if you complain about him messing up your hair

overall, he's super soft with you :)

sawamura daichi! was annoyed when he met you. shoyo hadn't shown up to practice and wasn't answering his phone, which left the captain ready to send the orange-haired freshman to an early grave. after kei made a smart remark that he saw shoyo lingering near the school entrance, he was on a mission to give the boy hell.

kei was right, of course. when daichi made his way to the entrance, he saw shoyo right away. he stomps over, lips parting to lecture the younger male about responsibilities when his eyes ghost over you. he stops short, shoyo's name barely dropping from his mouth as he pauses.

when you both turn to him, daichi feels his breath catch in his throat. it was clear that you weren't from around here. your odd sense of dress stuck out like a sore thumb—not to mention he had never seen you before. but if anything, he thought you were pretty.

"you're late for practice," daichi states lamely, barely managing to tear his gaze away from you to glower at shoyo. "i ought to put you on cleaning duty tonight."

the threat fell on deaf ears, shoyo's large grin unfaltering as he wraps an arm around your midsection in a tight hug. "captain! sorry, sorry," he apologizes, though the wide grin on his face told daichi he wasn't serious. "my cousin texted me that they were here, so i had to say hi!"

at his words, you finally snap out of your stupor, offering daichi a small smile. "i didn't realize he had practice. i wouldn't have called him out if i knew."

daichi presses his lips together, feeling his ears warm at your kind tone. "it's okay," he says softly. "i'll let him off for now. it's nice to meet you—i'm sawamura daichi."

when you introduce yourself, he finds himself repeating your name in his head.

"oi," he clears his throat, turning to shoyo with a deadpan expression. "c'mon. we're late enough already." daichi turns to bow his head at you politely, quickly turning around before you can see the warmth in his cheeks.

your sweet voice calls out a goodbye, and daichi decides then and there that he wants to get to know you better.

"hey, hey—why are you so red?"

"you're gonna shut up now if you want to go home early tonight."

koshi didn't realize you were shoyo's cousin until after he got to know you a little

he couldn't help it—when he saw you he just thought you were super cute lmao

he fumbles a bit in front of you

he really really tries to be a cool, calm, and collected person but sometimes he embarrasses himself by saying odd things or staring at you a little too long

when he does figure out you're related to his underclassman, he takes the opportunity to get to know you better

and when he finds out you're in his homeroom? even better

the type to arrange study session together with you every weekend just to spend time with you

he actually invites you to watch their practices and games before shoyo does LOL

the whole team knows about his feelings and he doesn't even care, constantly throwing an arm over you shoulder and hanging around you during downtimes

wants to impress you, so he gives it his all (and then some) whenever you're there

his sets get more accurate and he even blocks more hits than he would've before

he really wants you to think he's cool

but if you compliment him, he's exploding on the spot

suguwara koshi! had no idea you were shoyo's cousin when he met you. you looked nothing alike and your personalities were completely different. despite you being a complete stranger, the lost look on your face amused him.

you met koshi when shoyo accidentally stranded you at the train station. you were supposed to take the same train to his house, but he didn't notice you weren't right behind him when he stepped into the train car. the last you saw of the tangerine-haired boy was the back of his head as the doors closed on you.

you were standing there in a panic, though no one stopped to check if you were okay. shoyo had you hold his schoolbag while he dragged your suitcase along, and when you tried calling his cellphone you heard it buzz in the bag that hung on your shoulder. for the life of you, you couldn't remember which stop to get off or which streets to take to get to his house.

"are you lost?" a gentle voice asks you, pulling you from your anxious thoughts.

your eyes meet and koshi can't help but think you're cute as hell. you look doe-eyed in your panic, rounded eyes and parted lips. when you don't answer right away, koshi's cool demeanor switches and he stumbles into an embarrassed frenzy. "wait, can you even understand japanese?"

thankfully, you do, having learned it from shoyo at a younger age. you blink away the remnants of your panic with a few hasty nods. "yes, sorry. my cousin accidentally left me here, and i don't really know how to get to his house..."

koshi calms down at your insistence, chuckling to himself. "do you know the address?"

you wince, "no."

"alright," he says in a way that he hopes is soothing for you. "i can keep you company while you wait for him to return, then. it'd probably be nicer than just standing here by yourself."

when you agree, he hides his smile. he asks you several icebreakers, such as your name and your favourite colour. with every passing second, he only thinks you're even cuter than when he first saw you.

eventually, shoyo does come back, panting and heaving as he runs up the stairs to the station platform. his bright eyes widen when he sees you together with koshi. "oh, sugawara? you've met my cousin?"

koshi meets your eyes with a grin. "i guess we'll be seeing each other more often."

honestly asahi doesn't even acknowledge you when you first meet

he doesn't find out you're shoyo's cousin for weeks, so you're really just another classmate to him

you don't even talk to each other until like a month or so after you transferred

and even then, your conversations are short

he's polite to you when you work together, but he doesn't really try to become friends with you

don't get him wrong! he thinks you're nice and pretty, but he is too damn shy to initiate anything with you

you kinda think he hates you at first, but after you realize that he's just not an outgoing person you relax around him

when he does find out you're related to shoyo, you end up seeing each other more often out of class

you show up to more practices, even if you're just sitting on the benches doing homework

shoyo even drags you along whenever the team meets up outside of school to hang out

as a result, you and asahi eventually grow closer and he opens up more bit by bit

he doesn't actually start crushing on you until graduation nears

he realizes it when he hears you cheering his name at one of their bigger games

he thinks his name sounds prettier coming from you

he doesn't initiate any skinship with you, but he's always asking about your day and checking on you in his own ways

will absolutely combust if you even so much as brush pinkies as you're walking together

azumane asahi! first met you in class. like koshi, he doesn't know you're related to shoyo initially. when the teacher introduces you, making you write your name on the board, you don't have the same last name as shoyo. he doesn't really pay much attention to you, minding his own business as he takes out his notebook and pens.

several weeks pass and your homeroom teacher announces that you'll be partnering up for a group presentation. your first real conversation with him goes as expected—you exchange contact information and go your separate ways when the bell rings.

he thinks you're attractive, but he's too shy to actually act on those thoughts and he just pushes through the project, interacting with you as little as possible.

it's only when shoyo forgets his volleyball uniform at your house that asahi figures out you're related.

he sees you first, standing in the gym entrance while you wait to be invited in. you look hesitant as your eyes cast over the several members of the volleyball club, your gaze landing on asahi. when recognition flickers behind your eyes, he thinks you're there for him.

he opens his mouth to greet you, but before he can even utter a word, an orange blur runs past him. you're almost knocked on your ass as shoyo tackles you, excitedly calling out your name. "what're you doing here?" he asks you, tilting his head as he releases you from his death grip. "you never come to practice."

"you left your uniform at mine," you explain quietly, pulling the clothing out of your bag.

there's a moment of silence, before all hell breaks loose. the others scream and yell at shoyo, yuu and ryuunosuke shaking him by the shoulders as they demand why they weren't informed about his girlfriend.

even asahi's jaw drops at the thought of you, his classmate and group partner, dating shoyo, of all people.

"we aren't dating!" you exclaim, shaking your hands in front of you adamantly as disgust paints over your facial features. "we're cousins."

as the club eventually quiets down, you meet asahi's gaze over the commotion. when you offer him a bashful smile, he can't help but return it.

as expected, yuu is also whipped for you the second you meet

he swears on his life that he has never met someone as perfect as you—not even kiyoko (which says a lot)

at first, his attraction to you is entirely physical and he doesn't hide it

he compliments you every time he sees you he even compliments your outfits even if you're just wearing the karasuno uniform

he practically begs shoyo to bring you to practice just so he has an excuse to ogle at you and profess his 'undying love'

you'd probably make good friends with kiyoko, bonding over the second years' unabashed feelings and loud professions of love lol

though he's completely smitten with your looks, yuu doesn't learn a thing about you until like two months after your transfer

he realizes it when koshi asks if he knows anything about you and no, the fact that you're pretty doesn't count as something

during a late night run to the nearest convenience store, he runs into you

you're dressed casually, and he realizes it's actually the first time he's seen you outside of uniform

he thinks you're very cute in your bunny pajamas

he approaches you with koshi's words in mind, and asks if you want to hang out for a bit

your hang outs become a common thing, and eventually it's your weekend tradition to meet at the convenient store after sundown

after really getting to know you, he realizes that he likes more than just your appearance

shockingly, once he figures out his feelings for you, he tones down a lot

he would stop confessing his love for you every moment he could, but he gets casually affectionate with you

he'd always stand close enough for your shoulders to touch and would absentmindedly guide you places by taking your hand

he's never had a real crush on anyone before, so he's feeling it out with you

nishinoya yuu! has hearts in his eyes the moment he meets you. shoyo brought you to practice one day, excited to introduce his favourite cousin to his teammates. he had all but dragged you to the gym by the wrist, ignoring your insistent utterings that you can walk on your own.

"this is my cousin!" shoyo announces the second he bursts through the doors in true hinata shoyo fashion. you were the last ones to show up, so the entire team was there to witness you getting dragged in by shoyo. "they transferred here from overseas."

yuu feels the world stop once he glances over at you after receiving a particularly harsh spike from tobio, freezing into his squatted position. his world becomes a romcom movie—he swears someone must be blowing a fan in your direction with the way your hair sways as you walk into the gym. he might even be seeing the air sparkle in your presence.

he's absolutely starstruck with you, and he makes no effort to hide it as he bounds over to you. he takes your hands in his, looking at you with wide eyes as he takes you in. he can hear someone groaning, maybe daichi, as they mutter something along the lines of "he's at it again."

"i'm nishinoya yuu," he introduces himself. "you're really cute!"

your mouth opens, but no words come out as you simply stare at yuu in surprise. shoyo had given you a brief rundown of his group members, and you realize that this might be why he warned you about the libero in particular.

even when daichi smacks the back of his head, apologizing to you quietly, yuu remains in his lovestruck gaze.

you stay to watch their practice, at both shoyo and yuu's insistence, and yuu makes a point to be even more extravagant than usual. you can't help but laugh at his boisterous rolling receives and the way he calls out ridiculous move names.

oh ryuu. typical ryuu.

the first words he ever speaks to you end up with him getting slapped

like yuu, he thinks you've been blessed by the gods with your looks and he makes it clear to you when you meet

he asks you to go out with him, only to blatantly check you out right after, which earned him a smack to the face

eventually, he does apologize for his behaviour, though you don't accept it right away

when you tell him that you hate guys who treat others like eye candy, he's sure to tone it down for you

of course, a man can't change overnight

he still flirts with you, and with other women—he can't help it ;( him n yuu are menaces

however, when he's not being an absolute pest, he gets to know you

he learns about your interests and hobbies, and finds himself indulging you in them (who would've thought he'd end up enjoying the art of bracelet making?)

when you become close friends, you become his person

he goes to you whenever he wants to talk about something, and he lends an ear whenever you need to vent

he asks you about your home country often, wanting to know more about your life before you came to japan

he'd even go out of his way to do things for you that remind you of home whenever you start feeling homesick :)

it's not until well after graduation when he realizes that he might actually like you

tanaka ryuunosuke! was mid confession when you met. shoyo had brought you to one of their games, and just as ryuunosuke was getting on his knees to ask kiyoko to marry him, his eyes fall on you.

it's almost astounding how quickly the second year moved from the glasses-wearing beauty to you, appearing in front of you in an instant. before shoyo can even introduce you, he stares you down with a steeled expression, his eyes narrowing.

"you're the prettiest person i've ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on," he claims in his most serious tone. he takes your hands in his as he presses his lips to your knuckles. "please go out with me."

there's a collective sigh as the team turns away at his antics. you, on the other hand, feel your head pound in irritation. "excuse me?"

ryuunosuke doesn't hear the vexation in your tone, or chooses to ignore it, as his eyes trail over your features. even when you're staring at him in an angry disbelief, he thinks you're incredibly pretty. however, as his eyes drop lower and lower, his mind enters a less-than-appropriate headspace.

the feeling of your hand connecting with his cheek rips him out of his lewd daydreams. you didn't slap him hard, but the sound echoed over the loud chatter of the audience members anyway. "you pervert," you utter, gritting your teeth as you turn on your heel. you barely tell shoyo good luck as you all but stomp off to the bleachers.

ryuunosuke stares at your back, holding his reddening cheek in mild awe. yuu nudges his side. "don't tell me you're into that, man."

he at least has the grace to blush.

to be honest, you and tobio do not get along until much later

it's not because you're related to shoyo it is

he just genuinely has no idea how to talk to you lmao

you meet him on the first day of school with shoyo

the realization that he may be teammates with the very guy he had practically berated in middle school took priority over greeting you tbh

it's only after their initial fight when he realizes that you, a complete stranger, saw him yell at shoyo as harshly as he did (even if shoyo didn't have many nice things to say either)

he's kinda embarrassed abt it tbh

like?? you had to see him like that?? he's mortified

so when he joins the volleyball club and you're a manager, he avoids you like the plague

when he talks to you, he accidentally comes across as if he hates your guts (he doesn't, he just cannot properly converse with people to save his life)

your relationship is extremely terse for months, since you get pissed off at his behaviour and he doesn't know how to act normally around you

he doesn't warm up to you until one of their games later in the season, where the morale is low and the team is hanging their heads

you give them an uplifting speech, telling the team that they're stronger than they think

it's the first time tobio looks at you in a pleasant light, and he merely puts a hand on your shoulder to say thanks as he makes his way back to the court

slowburn as fuck tbh he might not even realize he likes you until you're about to graduate (cut him some slack he's only a lil slow)

kageyama tobio! barely acknowledges your existence when you meet. you had moved to japan before their first year at karasuno began, so you showed up with shoyo to the first day.

of course, tobio recognized shoyo immediately from their encounter in middle school. shoyo had dragged you to the gym to go with him to sign up for the volleyball club, insistent that you try to apply to be a manager or something. tobio was there, about to spike a volleyball.

the second shoyo and tobio lock eyes on each other, they're at it like cats and dogs, and you're left standing there in confusion. seeing shoyo as angry as he was is shocking to you and you wonder what the hell this other guy must've done to rile up your sunshine cousin so much.

tobio doesn't even look at you as he argues with shoyo, not meeting your eyes until after the fight has 'calmed' down. he stares at you quietly for a moment before averting his gaze, grumbling something under his breath as he leaves to retrieve the volleyball shoyo made him drop.

he doesn't say anything to you as you talk quietly with daichi about becoming a manager. he vaguely overhears shoyo introducing you as his cousin, but he's too annoyed to listen.

later on, when him and shoyo are finally accepted into the club, and you're brought on as a manager-in-training, tobio still ignores you.

you don't have your first conversation until a week later, when you corner him after practice. "what is your problem?" you demand, your hands propped on your hips. "i know you don't like sho, but you haven't said a single word to me since you joined the club."

tobio flushes in embarrassment as he stares at you. he doesn't mean to, but his eyes narrow into what could be perceived as a harsh glare. "i don't have anything to say," he says truthfully, his voice coming out colder than necessary.

when he rushes off to hide his growing fluster, you're left standing there confused.

you and kei barely interacted at first tbh

he had never seen you before and it was the weekend when you met so he had no reason to assume you'd ever talk again really

even after finding out you were related to shoyo, he didn't bat an eye

after all, he's not exactly going over to the orange-haired boy's house for sleepovers lolol

but to his surprise, you're in his classroom the next monday morning as a foreign exchange student

your classmates rush to you, overwhelming you with numerous questions about your hometown, and it's clear to kei that you're flustered

you meet his gaze over the crowd of people, and for a moment you're shocked to see him

however, before either of you can do anything, you get bombarded with even more questions

to your surprise and his, kei scoffs as he approaches your crowded desk

"can't you see you're bothering them?"

the gaggle of students dissipates with embarrassed apologies, leaving you and kei alone

your relationship with him from then on is odd

there's an unspoken agreement that you both don't like being bothered by other people, and you lowkey bond over it

he would never admit you're friends, but he comes to your rescue often

if you can't understand a phrase or if you don't know the answer to a question in class, he'll quietly help you out (but don't bother asking about it, 'cus he'll deny it vehemently)

when you start hanging out during practices, he ruffles your hair and rests his arm on your head regardless of your height

making fun of you is his love language (not that he'd ever admit he has feelings)

tsukishima kei! meets you when you're babysitting natsu. the team had been out getting ice cream (as per koshi's insistence—for team building), leaving kei in a sour mood because he would rather be anywhere than here.

"shoyo! sho!"

the whole team looks over, seeing a little girl who is the spitting image of their short middle blocker running toward them. kei's expression drops even more, because there's two of them?

shoyo almost drops his ice cream cone with the way the little girl jumps on him. "what are you doing here?" shoyo asks, scrambling to catch his sweet treat. "where's—"

before he can finish his sentence, another figure comes running at them, out of breath. "natsu!" you scold airily as you make your way up to the team, hunching over and resting your hands on your knees as you try to catch your breath. "jesus, don't just run off like that!"

you look up at shoyo from your hunched position, letting kei get a good look at your face. you're flushed, sweat beading on your brow bone and lips are parted as you breathe harshly through them. it's clear to the blond that you've been running around for some time now, something that makes him snort into his strawberry ice cream cup.

"sorry, sho," you wince, practically dragging the little girl, natsu, to your side. "she ran off while i was paying for her snacks. she probably saw you through the window." you vaguely gesture to a nearby convenience store, holding up a bag of candy.

you talk with shoyo for another moment, before turning to the rest of the team. your eyes briefly meet kei's and he arches a brow at you. you apologize for interrupting them, but daichi insists that you're fine and that you and natsu can hang around since you're there anyway.

as a result, you and kei end up standing near each other as the group converses. kei had been hanging a little bit away from the others, minus tadashi of course. you end up near him by coincidence—you don't know the others, and the three of you end up quietly sitting in acknowledgement that you didn't want to talk.

my darling baby tadashi is a mess when you meet <3

he was practicing his volleyball skills when he accidentally whams you in the face

he'd feel guilty about it for a while (even if you insist you're fine) and would use it as an excuse to buy you drinks from the vending machines lol

"this is the fourth drink you've bought me this week??"

"i have to make up for hitting you somehow :((("

becoming friends with tadashi is surprisingly easy, given how shy he can be

it becomes a habit to meet you by the vending machines before practice

the time in the halls between classes and volleyball are spent getting to know you

he asks a lot of questions about what it's like in your hometown and the differences in your culture

i don't think he'd start liking you until after you also get close with kei though lol good luck

the first time he sees you joking around with the tall blond, he thinks his heart is about to beat out of his chest

you must be an angel, he decides as he watches you get along with kei

the three of you form a trio and you end up spending more time with them than shoyo LOL

kei absolutely knows about tadashi's feelings and takes every opportunity to tease him about it whilst you're blissfully unaware

he's so so smitten around you after he realizes he likes you

the type to look at you like you hung the stars in the sky yourself and to becoming maddeningly red whenever you so much as make eye contact with him

yamaguchi tadashi! hits you in the head the first time he meets you. he was in the gym alone, practicing his float serve. you pushed through the heavy metal doors just in time to get slammed in the face with a ball gone awry.

he feels his heart drop to his toes as he quickly rushes over to you, asking if you're alright and if you need to see the nurse. his panic only worsens when he realizes you're bleeding from your nose.

although the hit shocked you, you're left watching in amusement as tadashi scrambles to find something to stop your nosebleed with. when he eventually returns to you, having ran from the boys washroom to grab a wad of papertowel, he apologizes again softly.

"are you okay now...?" he asks when your nosebleed finally stops. he looks almost like a kicked puppy, his hair falling limply into his eyes.

even after you reassure him that you're fine, tadashi still wears his guilt like a crown. he offers to buy you something from the vending machines, and does so despite your insistence that he doesn't need to.

"you can accept it for my sake," he says sheepishly as he offers you the cold can. the two of you converse quietly, with you introducing yourself as a new foreign exchange student.

"oh!" he suddenly lets out, looking over at you. "did you need something in the gym?"

"i was looking for my cousin," you sigh. "he said he was in the volleyball club and i haven't been able to find him at all today."

he's shocked when he finds out that you're shoyo's cousin—the boy had talked about you earlier in the week when he found out you were transferring to karasuno. as you talk, tadashi thinks to himself that shoyo never mentioned how cute you were.

your first meeting with keishin is awkward

ltrly knocks you off your feet when he runs into you

he's kind of brash when he meets you, not caring if you think of him badly because of it

you don't have much of a relationship at first—your work pulls you to the classrooms after all, so he doesn't really see you around often

the next time he sees you, you're stomping into the gymnasium mid practice with an irked expression

he's about to tell you off for interrupting practice, but he quiets when he sees you make your way to your younger cousin

he only watches in amusement when you tell him off for his horrid grades

when shoyo turns to keishin for help, he only shrugs with a lazy grin on his face

"sorry, little man, you heard 'em. no volleyball games until you raise your grades"

to shoyo's chagrin, you and keishin make a terrifying pair for him (and the other three idiots lolol)

you only really start hanging out with him when you end up making a late night run at his convenience store

it's the first time he sees you in casual clothing and the case of beer in your hands makes him laugh

"you wanna share that?"

he becomes your drinking buddy every other weekend, and he grows to cherish the time you spend chugging back cans of beer with him

keeps his feelings on the downlow, but as time goes on even the boys realize that their coach has a soft spot for you

ukai keishin! bodies you the first time you meet. the man doesn't realize his own strength until he literally knocks you flat on his ass after he turns a corner and bumps into you. his eyes go wide when the books and papers in your hands go flying, falling around you in a frenzy.

"shit," he curses under his breath, bending down to pick up your things. "sorry 'bout that." his voice is gruff as he speaks, collecting your papers without much care. when he returns them to you, some of them are scuffed and crumpled.

as he's handing you your things, he finally gets a good look at you. you're dressed more formally than he is by a mile. he holds a hand out to help you to your feet, his brown eyes falling to the lanyard around your neck.

"you new here?" he asks, jutting his chin out to gesture to your nametag. student teacher is typed above your name and picture.

you nod deftly, brushing off any dirt from your dress pants. "i started today. and you are?" your eyes meet his, and he knows you're silently scrutinizing him. he's much too old to be a student, you deduce easily, but he's dressed far more casually than any other other teachers.

when your eyes drift up to his bleached hair, he snorts. "i'm the coach for the volleyball club," he grumbles. "i don't need to be wearing fancy shit like you."

he sees your eyes light up in recognition as he analyzes your face with crossed arms. "the volleyball club? you must know my cousin then. hinata shoyo?"

keishin deadpans at you. "you're the runt's cousin?"

©AVATARCHIC please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #sawamura daichi #sugawara koshi #azumane asahi #nishinoya yuu #tanaka ryuunosuke #kageyama tobio #hinata shoyo #tsukishima kei #yamaguchi tadashi #ukai keishin #sawamura daichi x reader #daichi x reader #sugawara koshi x reader #sugawara x reader #azumane asahi x reader #asahi x reader #nishinoya yuu x reader #yuu x reader #tanaka ryunosuke x reader #tanaka x reader #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #yamaguchi tadashi x reader #yamaguchi x reader

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Seven

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.8k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Brief suggestive content, sex dream. Mentions of domestic violence, stalking. Hospital setting, nurse!reader. Feelings of fear, anxiety. Mentions of stress and weight loss. Soft dads. Little bit of flirting. Simon is... Simon. You get caught in a spell.

Johnny knows this is a dream. 

It’s an odd thing, to be conscious of it, to know you’re dreaming but still unable to control your actions. It’s like watching a movie of yourself, but also being yourself, directing your body without having a say in what it’s doing. 

He knows this is a dream, because you’re in it. You’re in their home, in one of Simon’s oversized sweatshirts, boy shorts rucked up over the little lightning bolts that arc across your hips, the underside of your cheeks. You’re smiling at him too, like you belong in there, like it’s yours too, and his heart swells, growing to a preposterous size.

“There’s my bunny.” He pulls you into his chest, mouthing up your neck and over your jaw. Your skin tastes like sugar, and when he gets to your lips, his hands shift, sliding down your back to grab two fistfuls of your ass with a groan. “Missed ye.” 

“We missed you too.” His fingers trace the edge of your panty line, barely dipping into where you drip for him. “Come to bed, Si’s waiting.” You whisper, stifling a moan. 

“Johnny.” Simon calls him, too loudly. He wants to hiss, snap at him about not waking the baby. “Johnny!”

His eyes blink open. White ceiling stares back at him, and he turns his head, finding Simon with a bemused look on his face. 

“I was havin’ a great dream.” Johnny grumbles, latching onto him. Simon scoots closer, lifting the back of his hand to his lips with a secretive smile, dotting kisses down to his wrist. 

“I know.” 

 “- and he has access privileges, as long he’s not interfering with care, he’s allowed to be in the room whenever he deems fit. Obviously, in cases where he shouldn’t be, like burn debridement, he’s fine with stepping out, but you should expect him to sleep here.” The nurse nods, nervously peeking over your shoulder at Simon, who’s lurking in the hallway, staring through the glass at the transport techs getting Johnny settled in his room. You catch her eyes, motioning to redirect her attention, and she mumbles a meek apology. “They have a daughter, who Johnny has been mostly separated from since he got here, and he’s hoping to see her often, since she’ll be allowed to visit more freely now. I told him it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Okay.” Her toes tap against linoleum, weight shifting from foot to foot, and you resist the urge to sprint back to her boss and demand someone else. Fuck. Why does Nora have to be on maternity leave? 

“This is my favorite patient.” You warn her instead, dropping your voice low, pitching it brazenly serious. “I don’t ever want to see him back upstairs again, and that’s going to depend a lot on you.”

“Okay, okay.” Her work phone rings, and you jerk your head in dismissal, not quite finished, but not seeing a need to continue to harangue her, either.

Simon glances at you from down the hall, head turning once you’re alone. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t call to you, or say your name, but you’re helpless to the magnetic yank of his presence, a beam of gravity dragging you closer until you’re shoulder to shoulder, looking into Johnny’s room. He’s asleep, dark lashes feathered against his cheeks, blissed out and nearly snoring. “This will be great.” You say quietly. “He can see Penny almost as much as he wants down here. There are far less restrictions, and he’s doing so well, there’s nothing to worry about it.” He doesn’t say anything, just watches you with the x-ray vision that peels you open. Like he’s digging around in your head again.

“D’you have a minute?” You blink at him, graceful words dried out and missing.

“Uh, I… yeah, I’m technically off now so. Sure?”

“Have a tea with me? I’ll meet you outside the café, on the patio. Ten minutes alright?” Have a… have a tea with him? 

His eyes are heavy. They’re lasered, locked onto yours, brows knitted together in something soft, some form of emotion that you don’t understand, framing his face above the mask. How can you say no? 

“Okay, sure. Ten minutes.” You try to hide how your hands shake, tucking fingernail to palm, squeezing tight.

It doesn’t escape him.

You grow more afraid with each day, that nothing does.

The paper cup cradled in Simon’s outstretched grip is like every other paper cup you’ve seen before, drank from a thousand times, with steam wafting from its rim and aromatics spilling out into the air. “Sorry.” You blurt, reaching. His fingers brush against yours, warm contact momentarily stunning you. ‘Thanks.” You lift the tea to your nose, inhaling deeply.

Irish breakfast. With milk. Your favorite. 

“How do you know what tea I drink?” You don’t mean for it to sound so suspicious, or aggressive, but it does. It’s nearly accusatory, but doesn’t affect him. He merely shrugs in response.

“I pay attention.” An engine turns over in the carpark, a small car sweeping across the lot as it turns out onto the street. You watch, feigning mild interest, trying to get a closer look at the driver without appearing too fixated. “So.” He sips, and then removes the lid, vapor rising from the top in a delicate little dance. “How long have you been at Addenbrooke’s?”

“A few years.” The answer is effortlessly supplied, like you’re under a spell. Your eyes go round. What are you doing? Crow’s feet crinkle at the corners of his own, and you manage a shaky smile.

“What brought you across the pond?” He jokes, velvet, soothing lilt in his voice.

“Work.” It’s easy to lie about this, the fabrication usually used in casual conversation almost every day with patients and new coworkers, people who are interested in you being from somewhere else, having a different accent, different education, customs, the whole lot. His jaw moves behind the mask, and before he can push the question further, you rush out your own interruption. “Simon, I want… I want to talk to you about something.”

“Sure.” He nods. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s… the other night Johnny said something about,” Your face is nearly scalding, embarrassment laden lump stuck in the back of your throat. “about you and him, and… me, I guess…” you trail off, eyes darting down into the tea.

“Go on?”

“He said that you guys think I’m special, and you- you said-“

“That we’re here for you.” He finishes, nonchalant.

“Right.” You breathe a little easier, knowing he knows what you’re talking about, words picking up steam. “I want you to know that it’s totally normal to feel this way. It happens a lot, you know. Patients and, or their family members, loved ones, they get attached. This affection starts to happen towards a member of the care team because we become that person who… provides care, twenty-four seven. So, you and… and Johnny, feeling like you have this attachment towards me, it’s very normal. Not a big deal.” You finish in one big breath, cutting your ramble short. His cheeks swell behind the fabric, like he’s smiling, eyes squinting again.

“That’s not what this is.” That’s not… what this is? What does that mean? 

“What?”

“Transference. That’s not what is happening here.”

“How do you…”

“I’ve had years of therapy.” He sighs. “Are you uncomfortable?” Say yes, the girl in your head screams. Tell him you need it all to stop. That you don’t like them, that it’s inappropriate. You know how this will end. 

“No.” You don’t know why you don’t acquiesce to your own good sense, why you ignore the very clear boundaries and rules that have kept you alive this long.

“Bunny, I need you tell me, honestly, if you are uncomfortable.” He levels you with an intense look, seriousness bleeding from his irises to yours. You press your palms flat on the table, quelling their trembling.

“It’s not… it’s not you. Or Johnny.” You whisper, eyes slipping shut. It’s easier that way, to just close them, to hide. To pretend you’re somewhere else, to block everything out.

What the fuck are you doing right now? Your brain screams, but your heart wails.

What is it like, to be loved like that? To be known like that? To be held in someone's heart, cherished and protected? 

“Sweetheart,” Simon’s voice is low, calming, and when you don’t answer, one of his hands folds over yours. “are you with me?”

“Yes.” You peek at him, and then fully let yourself look around, steadying the rancid fear that permeates through your body. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” He hums, hand still over yours. It’s warm, and broad, big thumb stroking a slow circle into your skin. “Is today your Friday?” You nod.

“It is, yeah. I’m… I’m looking forward to catching up on some sleep.” He straightens in the chair, shoulders and torso so unbelievably wide, like a long forgotten mythological god. Or the trunk of a massive tree.

“Will you have dinner with us, tonight?” The last of the orange red dawn spills over the crest of the buildings, and the world spins, cold sweat breaking out down your back. 

“What?”

“Dinner, with us. I’m picking up takeaway for Johnny from his favorite place as a celebration, for graduating the ICU. We’d love to spend some time with you. Get to know you, if that’s alright.”

“Oh, I…” Say no, you have to say no, shut this down. It’s too much risk. 

“No pressure. Just, hanging out, talking. As friends, if you like.” Butterflies thrash in your stomach so violently your knees bounce, and your heart leaps, pitching itself off a cliff like it wants to die.

“Okay.”

“Great. I can pick you u-“

“No! No, I’m fine. I have some errands to run after I get up for the day so, I’ll just meet you here.” It will be just like going to work. No harm, no foul. You can hang out with them, and go home, just like you’re at work. It doesn’t mean anything. It won’t. 

You barely sleep. You pace, you nap, you thumb through endless craigslist listings in faraway cities for apartments, you read. You take the long way through the city back to your flat and slowly sift through pieces of your life that you want to keep. Your quilt from home, that’s been tucked away on a shelf. A sentimental trinket that belonged to your mom, also hidden in a drawer. These things that can be removed, without being noticed.

Not that it matters.

He hasn’t been here. Not since the sick shit he pulled with your underwear. It makes you curious when you inspect the undisturbed tape on the back side of the door, the light dusting of baking powder on the bedroom carpet, but not surprised.

It’s not unlike him, to make himself known and then suddenly disappear, the endless mind games partially intentional, and partially something not even he can control.

After all, duty calls.

He could still be in the city. He could still be watching. You don’t know anything for sure.

“Three things you cannot outrun in this world, babe. Death, taxes, and… me.” You mumble it to yourself, the same words that live in your head, in his voice, repeated, pulling a pair of scrubs from your dresser.

But you had been running, and still had your life to show for it.

It doesn’t matter, you know how this will end. 

You’ve changed your clothes five times. You hem and haw in front of the mirror, trying not to look too closely at any one piece of yourself, switching shirt and pant combos until you finally settle on your usual, a pair of jeans and a long sleeve shirt. They’re high waisted, because low rise is not even within the realm of possibility for your hips, and you appreciate how they fit, even if they may sit a little loose right now, given your recent stress levels.

You look fine, you decide. You look professional. You don’t really look attractive, in any way, but the scars on your torso are hidden, and with a little bit of make-up, you think you look presentable. At the very least, you don’t look like you’re half asleep, which is exactly how you feel.

Not like it matters, you chide. This isn’t a thing; it’s just hanging out. You’re going to put an end to this entire charade, tonight.

The train is quiet, and you’re extra watchful. Every face, every movement is logged, every jacket or hat or hood is inspected. Posture, skin tone, height, of every person you pass or see is tabulated and run through your mind. Your brain, a supercomputer in its own right, does it all, seamlessly. It wants to protect you, it keeps you on guard, it can look at a crowd of twenty people all facing the opposite direction and locate a potential threat, just by the shape of the shoulders.

You don’t see him, you don’t feel him, your skin doesn’t prickle, and you let the lack thereof bring you peace, if only for a few moments.

Johnny’s floor is bustling. You wave hi to those you know, checking in with his nurse for a moment, letting her know you’ll be hanging out for a bit. She doesn’t even bat an eye, thankfully, and you try to settle yourself as you turn down the hall.

You’re not prepared for what you find when you knock on his door and slide it open, breath catching for a moment, and you scramble to cover your initial balk.

Their daughter is here. She’s cuddled up on Johnny’s good side, the one without the burnt tissue or recovering surgical wound. She’s asleep, wearing a black onesie covered in skulls, her head tipped back and mouth open, chubby cheeks and sweet little face perfectly content. She’s got her entire fist wrapped around one of Johnny’s fingers, holding it right under her chin like she’s afraid he might vanish while her eyes are closed. “Hey, bun.” Johnny whispers, smiling so wide, two fingers stroking through the wispy curls on top of her head. “We snuck in a visitor tonight.”

“I see.” Your heart trembles.

“Fell asleep right away, next to her Da. Been missin’ him these past few nights.” Simon chuckles, patting Johnny’s leg gently, affectionately. There’s a bag of take out on the table behind him, as well as what looks like an overnight bag, a purple duffel stuffed full. “Price is on his way to pick her up.” Penny gurgles, eyes blinking open in a sleepy daze like she knew they were talking about her.

“Ye’re alright, sh-shh, wee lamb.” Johnny coos. She’s half soothed by his words, but the lights in the room are far too bright, and her small noises waver into a cry, frustrated and tired. He tries move her, cradler her higher up his chest, but his face falls with pain, and Simon swoops in, pulling her into his arms. “Bunny, could ye-“

“Would you-“ They both try to ask at once, and you flounder once you realize the intention, a cranky, sleepy Penelope being pushed into your arms.

“I-“ she wails, interrupting you, bending you to her will without fuss, and you hold her closer, rocking side to side, humming above her ear. Just like the NICU, like a patient, like your stint in L&D, it’s fine, it’s-

“Sorry, sweetheart.” Not fine. It’s not fine. Heat burns in your belly. He can’t call you that, not when you’re holding their baby. “Thank you.” Simon says over his shoulder. He’s moving Johnny, lowering the bed slightly to help reposition him, and they speak quietly to one another, voices low enough you can’t make out any of the words.

“I can help you with him, if you want.” He waves you off.

“I need the practice, won’t have you around all the time anymore, yeah? And once he gets home…”

“Ach. ‘m not paralyzed. Jus’ uncomfortable.” Johnny glowers, pouting, and you roll your eyes, rhythm steady, gently bouncing, letting Penny cuddle into your chest, snuggling her face against your arm and side. She’s beautiful, precious and sweet, cooing herself back into a light slumber, and you smile despite yourself, still rocking after her eyes start to shut. “Knew she’d like ye.” He says softly, and you glance up, surprised by the intensity of their focus, heavy gazes fixed on you.

“She’s very sweet.” Your lips twist.

“She is.” Simon agrees. “We were happy to get her some time with her Da. Good for both of ‘em.” His fingers find Johnny’s cheek, and then their hands meet, a palm pressed to lips, a whispered a I love you. 

An intimate moment, as you stand there with their baby in your arms.

“Alright, now that ye’ve done the hard work by gettin’ her back down,” Johnny gestures, urging you to step forward, and you carefully place her back in his arms. For a moment, your faces are level, and you get caught in his eyes, nerves strung so tight they could be a tightrope. “I’ve got her.” Weeks in the hospital, and he still smells like cedar and oranges, woodsy citrus that envelopes you, your lashes fluttering on the inhale. “She likes ye.” He murmurs, breath warm and tickling over your cheek.

“Well, she’s...” you straighten, hands smoothing down the front of your top. They’re moist, somehow, and you tuck them behind your back. “She’s a good judge of character, I guess.” Simon’s phone vibrates, Johnny’s plush smile turning dour, and he sighs.

“Okay baby girl. It’s time.” She cries a little, readjusting to Simon’s hold, and he slings the purple duffel over his shoulder, promising to be right back. Johnny nods, eyes downcast, and his face twists once the door shuts, cheeks turning red, staccato, hiccupped breaths coming fast.

“Hey.” You whisper. “Hey, Johnny.” The chair at his bedside creaks under you, and you lean forward, fingertips lightly caressing the tape residue that still sticks to his skin. You should clean that off. 

“’m alright.” His shoulders roll, chin jutting out, brilliant blue gleam in his eyes returning, like storm clouds rolling off after rain. He’s silent for a beat, pinky finger folding over yours. “How was yer day?”

“Oh, it was… fine.”

“Simon said ye were goin’ to catch up on some sleep?”

“Yeah, I didn’t.” You laugh, and he smiles. “I feel okay though. Still awake at least.”

“I’m glad… ye came. I’m sorry if the other night, I was too… forward.”

“That’s okay. You’re just… so flirty, I don’t even know what to do with myself.” You tease, expecting to get a lighthearted quip in response, or a laugh, but he gives you neither, only a serious, sympathetic expression.

“I didnae mean to make ye uncomfortable. Felt terrible, when ye ran off, I-“

“I’m fine, Johnny. You… you didn’t. I mean, it was just… confusing, this is… this is a lot.” He nods.

“I know it is.”

“And you don’t even know me.” His brow creases, focus narrowed in so tightly on you, white walls, white hospital blanket, white everything falling away in a spiral of color.

“I know ye better than ye might think." He cracks a smile. "We want to, if ye’d let us.” No, you don’t. You almost say it. Almost promise him that knowing you would be the stuff of their nightmares, that they have no idea what they’re trying to bite into, or bite off, a near guarantee that it would be than they could chew.

“Well, no harm in making new friends, right?” You entreat weakly, and his eyes flash, ethos of an entire life that you have no knowledge of slipping through, and the dark severity rumbling in his gaze sends a shiver down your spine.

“Aye, bun. Especially when they look like ye in a pair of jeans.” 

Dinner is an idyllic affair. Johnny’s favorite takeaway turns out, is Indian, like yours, and the three of you talk for hours, trading bites back and forth, laughing and listening to stories, discovering little bits and pieces about their lives while running interference on personal questions about yourself, allowing them to dip in skin deep, skimming off the top but never getting further. They tell you about themselves, Penelope, their jobs, how they met, and Johnny confides in you about his sketchbook collection, pages upon pages of charcoal and pencil line work, portraits of Simon and Pen covering each page, landscapes, and the occasional cartoon. Your spine eventually starts to wilt, muscles liquifying into goo that can barely hold you upright, and you curl up in the armchair, chin on your palm, listening to the ebb and flow of their voices as they tell you a particular story about how they came to find their current home, a near slapstick comedy about an interaction with the previous owner. Their voices soothe your restless mind, wrap you in a cozy embrace that feels so safe, so comfortable that you can’t fight the languid, siren call of sleep, eyes drooping into darkness, drifting away on their melodies, content and too tired to rationally put together what’s happening. At some point, something covers you up, knit warmth that is tucked in around your shoulders, your feet, a tender touch on your neck and cheek. A whisper of affection soothes the unease that lurks in the background of it all, and you fall into it lazily, farther into the hold of sleep, something your brain and body are desperate for.

When the lights go dim, you don’t even realize, already lost to the sand of slumber.

Around midnight, you wake with a start. Your heart is racing, triple timing in your chest, and you squint in the dark, trying to parse together where you are, what happened.

Oh no. Oh god, did you fall asleep on them? Did you fall asleep in Johnny’s room? 

Simon calls your name. He’s settled in a recliner, head turned your direction, mellow light from the little lamp spilling across his features. “Are you alright?” Your mouth is dry, the web of sleep that holds you in suspension finally starting to wane, fuzzy clouds in your head trying to clear without much luck.  

“How long was I out?”

“Four hours.”

“I’m so sorry.” He shakes his head.

“Wanted to let you sleep. I know you were tired, and Johnny was out almost immediately after you.”

“Th-thanks.” Your back groans, muscle and bone grinding together, stiff from sleeping in a cramped position for hours, and you’re surprisingly unsteady on your feet. Simon’s out of his chair in a second, turning around the end of Johnny’s bed to offer you a hand, his other lightly resting between your shoulder blades.

“Easy.”

“Sorry… just… think ‘m more tired than I realized.” It’s dark, and you’re disorientated, woozy, tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth, limbs and lids still heavy and desperate to fall back asleep.

“I’ll drive you home.” His keys jingle, and you know you should reject him, refute this presumption, push him off, but you can’t string the right words together in your mind, can’t bring yourself to truculently pull away.

So, you don’t. And to your surprise, your shock, it feels… nice. You let him open the door for you, get you settled, you listen to his music on the way, city flying past outside the window, quiet hour of the night crawling by. You let him help you out of the car when you pull up to the curb, and when he asks if he can walk you up, your rational pugnacity is nowhere to be found.

“This is me.” You gesture to the door, fumbling in your wallet for your keycard.

“How long have you been in the hotel?”

“Oh, not long. Reno just started so…” His head turns, surveilling the hallway. You’re in an end room, far from the elevator but close to the stairs, as requested, and there’s a camera that sits on the ceiling, green dot consistently blinking. He glances at it, then back to you, head tilted.

“Are you safe here?” The world goes cold. Your stomach roils, blood draining from your face, and you try to hold yourself steady, mind turning over a million times. You’re overreacting. He’s just asking in a general sense. He doesn’t know. He couldn’t. Breathe. Deep breath. 

“I uh, yeah. It’s got a deadbolt.” Along with a door stop alarm, and a security bar. He steps closer, so close that you can smell him, fresh laundry and musk, something spicy lingering there, something dark and enchanting.

“Are you in trouble, little bunny?” You’re in his shadow, beneath the stretch of a mountain, shielded by it, by a monolith so large it could blot out the sun. It overwhelms you, slows the racing pace of your mind, and you try to sort through the merry go round of feelings that are all trying to push their way out of your mouth.

You’ve never felt this. Never felt this… desire, to entrust someone with your life. Never felt this… attraction, this hold that the two of them have on you.

It makes you want to trust them. Makes you want to lay it all out and beg them to help you. Makes you want to close your eyes and leap, praying they’ll catch you.

It’s wicked. It’s dangerous. It’s a fool’s errand.

It’s unfair. 

“No.” You whisper. You can’t look at him, and time slows in the silence, your anxiety piquing. Of course, he would assume something is wrong, after witnessing the panic attack. Don’t read too far into it. 

“But you wouldn’t tell me if you were, would you?” He’s pragmatic, yet still kind, watching you with intent. It doesn’t allay any of the stress that’s building up the back of your throat and closing it, cutting you off from the oxygen you desperately need.

After an eon, he sighs.

“Okay, sweetheart. You can keep your secrets. For now.” You choke. 

“I… I should probably-“ you jerk your head towards the door, half turning away to swipe your keycard.

“Alright.” He moves carefully, dipping low, and you stand immobilized, confused and quivering as his cloth covered mouth presses a slow kiss to the top of your head. It’s like he’s bewitched you, cursed you, and you can’t do anything but stand there, stunned. “Thanks for coming tonight.” You’re a deer in headlights, a rabbit in a scope.

“Simon.” His name is the only thing you know right now, and it comes out reedy, almost a squeak.

“Get some rest. We’ll text you tomorrow.” He pushes the door wide, arm snaked behind your shoulders, and when you don’t move, he urges you forward, an encouraging hand on the small of your back. Your feet blindly stumble through the motions, searching for the light switch, for your sanity. “Goodnight, bun.” He hums, and the door clicks shut, leaving you alone, staring at the beige-yellow paint on the wall.

The afternoon trains are packed. It makes your skin crawl, not because you dislike busy or hectic places, but because there are too many eyes. You force your head to stay up, casually scrolling past the faces that are turned every which way, keeping your back to a corner or window as often as possible. You’re not sure you even needed to take this route, the one where you loop around and change trains twice, but… old habits die hard.

You’re lighter today, mentally. It’s in your steps on the stairs, the way you tilt your face up to the sun, how you bounce and bob a little along to the rhythm in your headphones.

You try not to read into it, too much. You tell yourself it has nothing to do with the good morning text messages from Johnny and Simon, or the hilarious back and forth between them after Simon sent a god-awful joke to the group chat. It has nothing to do with the heat that spreads through your fingers to toes when you think about Simon last night, kissing your forehead.

You slip inside your apartment, popping your headphones free, glancing at the tape and the door jam, before setting your bag on the counter. You idly sort through some mail you left out the other day. Junk, junk, junk, nothing taxing or important, nothing work related or-

A shadow moves. It flickers against the wall by your bedroom, growing larger, stalking closer to the kitchen, to where you stand, frozen, heart pounding in your ears. 

This can’t be real. This can’t be happening. 

“Hey there, sugar.” He croons, the thick, Texas accent unmistakable, and you breathe his name in horror.

“Phillip.”

#peaches writes #simple math #ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #soap x reader x ghost #simon riley #john soap mactavish #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #ghost x reader x soap #ghost x reader

[screampied]

idk if you write for the charas that hasnt been introduced in the anime (but already in the manga)

but if you do can you please, PLEASEE write cockwarming hiromi as he worked? (I’ll do anything for any hiromi content smh)

☆ : hiromi higuruma x fem! reader

⤷ tags : cockwarming, praise, dirty talk, cowgirl, unprotected sex. wc : 0.9k

an. YESSS SURE

“…baby, i’m on a phone call. stay still ‘n wait,” he murmurs against your ear — his breath was warmth, it brushes against your skin and you moan. the coldness of the watch band higuruma wore ghosted against your skin as you tried to stay put.

he sat in his office chair, his pants just barely hanging down by the him, with you having his cock buried in place.

you squirmed and squirmed, gripping onto his knee and only babbles were your righteous response. “hiro, but that’s boring ‘n your phone calls always take f-forever.”

“perhaps,” he chuckles, his voice was low and a whisper — as he was still on the other line with a person, maintaining business. “just wait a little longer for me, alright? you just gotta be a patient girl,” and then he teasingly slides a hand down your thighs, his rings brushing off against your skin. “can you be my patient good girl and warm me up for me?”

“….y-yes.” your poor pathetic of a response was delayed heavily, and seeing you not get your way, he found it so adorable. “okay, fine.”

“good girl,” he coos, planting a kiss near the back of your head. that’s when he pays his attention back towards his phone, clearing his throat and repositioning his tie. “ah, yes hello? excuse me, i apologize for the interruption. but as you were saying..”

you tried to seclude your moans but it was so hard, higuruma’s cock was so thick — veiny and pulsed inside of you as it stood still. you desperately wanted to move but you had to wait.

every few seconds, you’d hear him chuckle at your constant squirming, your tiny whines and babbles departing from your lips.

“uh huh, yes… i see.” he utters in a low voice, a single hand of his grazing against your waist. his touch was so smooth—you leaned back against his tux, and he kissed the inner part of your neck, whispering a soft, “quiet, princess.”

“s-sorry.” you’d whine, such pout forming against your lips, you were so frustrated. you could hardly think straight.

your vision was nearly blurry, and all you could even process was higuruma’s shaft idly inside of you. no thrusts or anything, you grew bored and was tired of waiting so you started to grind against his lap.

he chokes on his words the moment you do this, and his jaw tightens. right in the middle of speaking, he pauses — and you can almost feel the heated glare he’s giving you from behind.

“my um…apologies, can you repeat yourself?” he mutters, going on as if nothing happened.

the pout on your lips never left, about ten long minutes had passed and he was still occupying himself on the phone.

all when he could have been bending you over his work desk and having his very way with you. higuruma was very serious whenever it came to his work.

you felt him stretch over you to reach for his ballpoint pin and he starts to jot things down on his scattered piles of paperwork. mark after mark, your eyes watch his hands. and all you could think of was his lengthy pretty hands fingering you, he was so good with his hands. his fingers…

how pitiful, you felt yourself starting to almost drool just from the thought. higuruma talking you through an orgasm with his fingers, then once he’d finish, he’d tell you to “open wide” stuffing his fingers down your throat so you can taste how nasty you were for him.

he was a simple man, professional in public yet filthy in private.

“we can go over the procedures one more time, if that’s alright with the party.” he replies in a gruff voice, and you’re a mess. all your fantasizing does just makes you more wet — you want him so bad, and he can tell because at this point, you aren’t even trying to stay still.

“hiro, ‘m gonna cum.” you whisper, and you weren’t, but you were so fed up that you were incredibly desperate. higuruma purposely pretends he doesn’t hear you, talking over you actually just to make you whine. “hiromi, please. can’t hold it, i tried..”

once more, he continues to uphold a conversation with his colleagues, smooth tone and all. he chuckles, glancing at you briefly—and that’s when you moan, feeling him start to bounce his thigh just to irk you even more.

but you couldn’t take it anymore, so that’s when you grab his phone, and moan right into the speaker, “hiromi, ‘m cumming.”

and it goes dead silent, you knew you were probably in deep trouble but you didn’t care—you just couldn’t wait, and it made you giggle on how he suddenly stopped talking. it grew so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

higuruma then sits up, and you let off a gasp at his sudden movements because he pulls out, immediately bending you over the desk. he doesn’t care about the paper documents flying everywhere. “…oh, princess the nerve is beyond me.” he mutters—and you moaned, feeling him make you arch your back with a single push.

and you bite your lip, awaiting for him to go inside. you wanted to play dumb so you say, “what happened?”

“you know what happened.” he mutters, his tone was full of seriousness. you hear the clanks of his belt dangle against his already pulled down pants and you just couldn’t wait.

and then you moan. “but hiro—you’re still on call. hang up the-”

“don’t tell me what to do, princess,” he hushes you, caressing your ass before bringing a mean spank towards your ass. “all you need to worry about is arching that back of yours. you wanna moan and let them hear, then they’ll listen the whole time while i fuck you. so bend over and get loud for me.”

#★vegasbaby. #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fic #higuruma smut #higuruma hiromi x reader #higuruma hiromi #female reader #anime smut

[mrsoharaa]

because i was inspired by a tiktok lol

You and Miguel get into a silly little argument before getting ready for bed. After finishing up your nightly facial routine, you crawl yourself into your shared bed. Pulling the comforting sheets over your body with slight assertiveness and aggression, wishing nothing but the pure serenity and peace slumber that was calling to you.

Exhaling one last huff, you felt the bed dip and creak on the opposite side of your own. Overwhelming heat basking off from his looming body, searing breaths prickling over the shell of your ear as wide, large hands gently caress the mount of your covered hips.

You were still angry with him, wanted nothing more but to forget the dumb argument and drift off into a sweet, sweet trance. To numb all of your senses and irrational plundering thoughts.

But一 Miguel was making it that much harder to simply forget.

His lingering touch always made you mold beneath his comforting, torrid graze. Soft, low whispers of feeble apologies in his Spanish tongue and cute pet names always tugging profusely at your conflicted heart.

No, you shouldn't give in. You were mad at him and he needs to know that.

Stand your ground.

Don't give in.

You try your absolute best to compose yourself into giving in to his subtle attempts of wooing you to his luring charm. You could still tell he was still on edge by the tensity in his muscles and heavy breaths, but the fact that he was derailing his pride and ego just to sincerely apologize and get closer to you made you question your own prideful distributions.

You tried.

But the moment his lips were seamed against your ear lobe, hands wrapping around your body to pull you back into his towering frame as he draws delicate shapes amongst the thick sheet shielding your cute belly一 all sense of pride and determination immediately deteriorated from your puttied mind.

"Lo siento mucho, mi amor... No quise decir nada de lo que dije antes...." he whispers huskily into your ear, feeling your body intensely tense under his grasp. He kisses the outskirt of your ringing ear, tenderly. ("I'm so sorry, my love… I didn't mean anything I said before...")

"let me hold you...I just want to hold you, hermosa" he clings onto you more desperately, strong arms tugging you much closer into his firm chest as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. Warm breaths permeating into your warm flesh.

Instantly, you turn over to face him, cup his face and push your lips onto his with such vigor and passion. The taste of his full, sweet lips melding with yours blinding your petty decisions and tampered with your heart and mind.

Your fingers softly caress the solidity of his jaw, pressing your body into his as you hum lowly against his addicting, silken lips. Feeling him immediately, promptly follow your lead, you carefully pull away to take a breath. Allowing him to do the same, but with a tinge of distraught and dejection craning to his hefty breath.

Lidded large, round eyes of mocha following your every motion, finally connecting with your own wandering eyes.

"How can I stay mad at you when you talk to me like that, Miguel?...god, I hate that you have that sort of power over me" you breathe heavily, ghosting your lips just centimeters away from his as you feel the pads of his fingers slip into the sheeted cover and onto the bare of your torrid skin. Your own digits subtly grazing over his warm cheeks.

He gently places his forehead against yours, delicately tugs at your hips and inches closer to your lips.

"I could say the same thing about you, cariño..." he whisks mindfully.

"Just let me embrace you...I want to wrap myself around you and hold you...let me love you like you deserve, mi corazón"

#it's the waist pull from behind while laying on your side for me 😵‍💫🫠 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderverse #atsv #he is just so SOOO

[wanda-widow]

Dirty Little Secret

Bucky x Pole Dancer!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: Bucky's a sweetheart, but like everyone else, he's also got something to hide. And no one would expect the famed White Wolf to spend his evening as a strip club with a pretty thing he calls his. 

18+ MDNI

Warnings: smut, jealous Bucky, oral (f receiving), light threat, choking kink, swearing, pussy slapping (once), light/no aftercare, light fluff near the end, no use of (Y/N)

Like and reblog if you want, thank you sm for the love on my last post <3

Everyone's taken Bucky as a gentleman, especially after the takedown of the Flag Smashers. His reputation's free of red, amends made, the biggest sweetheart. The biggest sweetheart with the dirtiest secret. 

Over 70 years with no sex has got him pent up, needing release. Sure, his fist can get him off but it doesn't compare to the feeling of a warm body under his. It doesn't matter if he's giving or receiving the pleasure, he just needs sex in any form. 

There's a small but well known strip club located in the heart of Brooklyn, Bucky's favorite place on Monday, Tuesday, and Friday nights, along with weekends. His pocket is always well loaded with cash, especially with the money the government is funding him as an apology for what HYDRA put him through. 

But that's in the past and you, you are the present and future. You, who works Monday, Tuesday, and Friday nights, along with weekends. His favorite dancer and his favorite hookup. 

This Friday night is no different as he steps foot in the pounding club, eyes scanning the sweaty crowd until they land on you, just finishing your routine on stage. You're dressed in a skimpy red piece that barely leaves anything to the imagination, knee high heels adding to the appeal. His eyes rake over your body, darkening at the various bills stuffed wherever the hands could reach. Bills that should be his. Hands that should be his. 

You can practically feel his glare, eyes flitting up to meet his, calculating his expression. With a barely perceptible jerk of his head, you already know to follow him to one of the private rooms. Quickly blowing your kisses, you hurry off stage just in time to see Bucky slap a couple bills into someone's hand before they let him into the dim room, leaving the door open for you. 

The moment you step foot in the room, the door slams shut behind you and you can feel him behind you, radiating anger and something else. Jealousy. 

"I thought I told you to wait for me" he growled into your ear, vibranium fist clenching against the wall. His other hand comes to rest on your waist, a mockery of affection before whatever comes next. 

"I did but you didn't come on time" you shrugged, the excuse sounding lame to even you. "I needed the money, you know that" 

"I said I would pay you extra for your time" he retorted, plucking the bills out from your bra one by one before tossing them somewhere in the room. You barely get the chance to open your mouth to respond when you feel a cold metal hand spin you around and wrap around your throat, just barely applying pressure. 

"Since you didn't wait, I don't see a point in paying you extra" he breathed out, thumb sliding up to tilt your chin up, his lips ghosting over yours. His arousal is evident against your thigh, your body shifting instinctively so he's nestled right against your core. 

"I'll give you better service for more money" you offered, already sinking to your knees for him. Truth is, if you didn't need the money so desperately, you'd do anything for free for this man. 

Bucky almost caved but shook his head, tugging you back up. "I don't have time" he muttered, frustrated as he checked his watch before spotting the loveseat in the corner of the room. Leading you there, he tugged you into his lap, lips meeting your eagerly as you melted into his hold. His tongue swiped along your bottom lip before you parted your lips, tongues sliding deliciously. 

You were already grinding against him on instinct when he gripped your hips to stop you. 

"Get on your back" he muttered, already doing the act for you as he flipped your positions and then settled on the floor to be face to face with your soaked panties. 

"Already so wet for me... or is this from all those other men giving you money, hm? You don't need anything from me anymore, might as well make this our last session" he taunted,  his metal hand sliding up your thigh teasingly, goosebumps following in his trail.  

"No, no... no, no just you. Only you get me soaked" you whined, missing the way he smirked at your desperate words. 

He let out a hum before carefully sliding your panties down your legs, tucking them in his back pocket as he spread your thighs wider. You clenched around nothing in anticipation, letting out a quiet gasp when he ran a finger up your slit, gathering your slick. 

"So pretty..." he murmured, glancing at you as he kissed up your inner thighs. "So perfect" 

You squirmed, almost about to beg for him to touch you when he ran his tongue through your folds, a moan tumbling past your lips as your hips canted up. 

"Such a pretty pussy for a pretty girl" he smirked, tongue doing circles on your clit before he took it between his lips and sucked lightly. 

"B-Bucky- ah... need more..." you moaned, fingers fisting in his hair, lips set into a pout. 

"I don't think you deserve it" he chided, his flesh hand sliding under your back to pull you closer to him. "You're lucky I'm fond of you"

He slipped two metal fingers into you, curling them so they hit your sweet spot that he knew so well. His tongue worked quickly over your clit, flicking back and forth, his fingers pumping with the obscene shlick shlick shlick, already building you towards your orgasm. 

"Are you gonna wait for me tomorrow instead of throwing yourself on stage for the world to see?" he asked, purposely slowing his fingers as you whined from the fading pleasure. His thumb pressed down on your clit, your hips bucking up into the pressure.

"Yes, yes I'll wait for you" you cried out when his flesh hand came down on your clit. 

"Good girl" he growled before his mouth attached back onto your sensitive bundle of nerves. His fingers slipped back into your pussy, curling and pumping eagerly, your walls starting to flutter around him from the building pleasure. 

One last swipe of his tongue on your clit had you unraveling, his eyes watching as your back arched off the couch, legs shaking and clamping around his head as his fingers worked you through your high. The cries of his name falling from your lips mixed in with curses and moans were heavenly. He tucked the sounds away to memory, his cock throbbing against his jeans but he could take care of that problem later. 

He drew gentle circles on your clit, huffing softly when your body jerked in response to the overstimulation. You felt a couple bills flutter down onto your flushed skin, not bothering to count them when you felt him lean down next to your ear. 

"If you're really worried about money, just tell me. I can cover it, doll" he said softly, brushing some hair out of your face before leaving a quick kiss on your lips. 

You nodded, shifting so that you were sitting up on the couch, noticing that the bills littering your skin were hundreds. 

"If you forget our agreement tomorrow, consider your orgasms also forgotten" he said casually before the door slammed shut behind him, leaving you dazed and always, always wanting more. 

Part 2

#mcu bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #winter soldier #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky fluff #bucky imagine #bucky smut #smut thoughts #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns imagine #winter soldier smut #the white wolf #white wolf #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel mcu #mcu smut #marvel smut

[sunsetsimon]

apology - simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

thanks for requesting anon <3

nsfw ahead! mdni

also sorry i had to rush the end but i promise ill have something better out later!!! - sun

─────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───────

the bed dips as simon lays next to you, finally coming to bed after avoiding you for the last 2 hours. he knew he fucked up earlier when he forgot the main thing you sent him to the store for. you'd been looking forward to trying out a new recipe you'd found online and knowing it'd take a while, you asked him to run to the store and grab some stock for the soup.

"in a bit, dove. 'm gonna finish this workout first," he said when you asked him. you nodded in agreeance, not realizing 'finishing his workout' meant taking an hour run around the neighborhood.

and of course you could've gone yourself, but simon always prefers you ask him to do things like that and you wanted to be patient. he gives you a quick call when he gets to the store, stopping there on his run, "stock, tomato paste, cream and rice. thas'it love?"

as he's on his way home he can't help but feel like he forgot something, it nags at him but he continues anyway. greeting him with a kiss at the door, you grab the bag from him and carry it to the kitchen so he can take off his shoes.

"ugh- simon! i told you to get stock!"

simon stares at you puzzled, but makes an 'oh shit' face when he realizes, "ah fuck! knew i forgot something, i'll go back now."

"it's fine, i'll just have something else," you sigh, leaving the items on the counter and walking away. he tries to stop you, saying he'll be quick but your mood has already been ruined, waving your hand in dismissal. you retreat to your room for a while, reading your book until simon decided to check on you.

"'m sorry about earlier. was being a dumbass and forgot."

"you could've just called me," you reply with a slight irritated tone in your voice, eyes not leaving the page of your book, though you weren't reading anymore.

"i know, i should've," he nods, pulling you to him on the bed, his arms wrapping around your body, his head on your stomach. "i can't make up for it now, but i am sorry."

you reread the page again, attempting to focus on the words. simon's fingers grab at the fabric of your sweatpants, pulling it down to reveal the skin of your stomach and hip. your legs twitch as his wet lips trail kisses along your tummy, his short blond hair tickling your skin. his touch is addicting, you instantly melt into him, a wanting ache growing in your pussy.

he works your pants off, throwing them to the side and pushing your legs open wide. leaning forward, he kisses the wet spot in the fabric, his nose bumping your clit. the muscles in your thighs ripple, flexing to keep them open while he teases you. sticking out his tongue, he flattens it against your clit, his hot breath only making you wetter.

dragging your panties down, he groans at the wet stickiness of your slick on the fabric. taking a deep breath as he holds them to his nose, "fuck, y' smell so good."

"simon..." you whine, feeling like you might die if he doesn't do something. anything.

"g'nna make you cum, dove. as an apology." simon leans down, his mouth latching onto your cunt. he moans against you, pulling you closer as if he could devour your entire pussy. his hips rut against the mattress, grinding down to ease some of the pressure.

he revels in the way you cry his name, desperately fucking yourself onto his tongue. two fingers slide into you easily, pushing deep and curling against that spongey spot that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. you tug his hair, holding him close to you as he sucks your clit, flicking his tongue on it quickly.

“gonna cum-“ you barely make out, jaw clenching to hold back your moans.

simon only hums against you, raising onto his elbows, pulling your hips into the air. his tongue prods at your entrance, lapping at the sweet wetness thats dripping out of you. his fingers fuck you expertly, pulling you to orgasm quickly. you squeal as you cum, legs shaking and mind spinning as it washes over you. his dark eyes are on you, watching intensely as you writhe in his arms, whining ‘okay-okay’ until he finally stops.

“how was that?” he asks, finally pulling away with a smirk on his scarred lips. his chin glistens, your sweet wetness all over the bottom half of his face. of course he already knows the answer, he just wants to embarrass you.

“oh shut up and come here, simon.”

fuck he’s good at apologies.

#.wbm #cod x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #edit tomorrow

[audisive]

♪ PRETTY WHEN YOU CRY.  sad girl alternative

౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader

synopsis: you've had a bad day, simon's there to fix it.

tags: comfort, crying, self-indulgent, fluff

  Your head laid on the skin of his arm, your face pushed into the comfort of his chest. The sharp edges of your earrings – your favorite ones, he recalls – sank and dug into his skin meanly, but he couldn't care less. As disgusting as it sounds, it could not compare to the way his heart ached to protect your own when he hears you take sharp inhales just to exhale with a sob, sniffles occasionally there to accompany your weeping. It was anything but his priority with the way his arms tightened around you and the way he'd hoped it would be enough to ease your worries and take your pain away; pass it onto him if you must. Anything to make you feel better.

Oh, the things he'd be willing to but could not do to instead receive a painfully unfunny joke from you in the place of your sobs. He settles on wiping the tears off your face, knowing how it makes you feel when it dries and sticks to your skin uncomfortably. The small droplets were everywhere and increased with every passing minute, but he took the time to wipe them off one by one. Had you not been in agony, you would've been in awe at the way this gigantically scary man was being so gentle with you; it was one of the best reminders of how his heart belonged to you and how well he'd taken care of your own.

Simon holds you forever – at least that's what it feels like – and whispers sweet nothings into your ear to distract you, even just for a little bit. "'S fine," he reassures you, each word filled with promise and not an ounce of doubt. "You'll be okay, y'hear me? I got you." It's warm, and he still faintly smells of gun powder, mixed with the well-used cologne you'd bought him for his birthday last year. You don't pay any mind to the smell of tobacco lingering; you know it's not his.

You've long since learned – all thanks to him – to refrain from apologizing for your show of vulnerability and emotions. It leaves you guilty, still, eating you up at night with the knowledge of his uneasiness when it comes to emotions, but for him, nothing's better than learning to get over his fears with his one and only love. Love always makes us do things we don't want to, right?

His arms found the way to wrap themselves around you heavily like a weighted blanket hours ago and have continued to stay. It serves as a comfort for you, along with his words. In his sweater, his arms, his bed, his room. He's all you can see and all you can feel, but you're not complaining, and neither is he.

You calm down after a moment, letting your breathing grow steady while the wet spots of tears in his sweater dried up. Simon Riley hates to see you cry, but damn it if he can't be the one to comfort you.

"There's m' pretty girl," he whispers in that charmingly rough yet gentle voice of his, looking down at the way your lashes glisten with salty little tears when you find the strength to press your cheek to his chest instead of burying your face in the warm surface. "Feelin' better now, sweets?" He's so terribly sweet to and with you that you think you might cry again just because. You barely even nod, but you know he notices; he always does.

"Y'wanna talk about it?" His hand plants itself onto your back; it gives you a sense of stability. Everything about him is so large in a way that engulfs you whole, and it would terrify any sane person. Perhaps you aren't, not anymore, but you found the warmth and comfort of your home in him. He kisses your forehead without so much as a pause when you shake your head. "A'right, we'll jus' stay here, then."

And stay, you do, cuddled up against him. It doesn't take long before all the crying takes its toll on you, your head starts to hurt, and your eyelids start to give up. Before you know it, you're pulled into the deep depths of unconsciousness. It's too early into the night; you've skipped two meals, and you've worked yourself near death. You know full well that you'll wake up with a raging headache after crying yourself to sleep, too. You'll wake up too early in the morning; your muscles will be sore, and you're still starving. You might as well pass out immediately after waking up.

Still, you sleep at ease and without worry. Why would you not? Simon will be there to fix it. ♡

  divider by @cafekitsune !

#౨ৎ simon ! #୨୧ audi's works ! #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #comfort #cod x reader #fluff #simon riley x you #simon x reader #simon x you #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x you #it's been a bad week #and the week's barely started

[mrsparrasblog]

POLY 141 reaction to when they are the biological father

poly 141 with pregnant reader if they are not the Dad

Price: He never thought he would be the dad. The doctors told him many years ago that he would never be able to have kids, so when you got pregnant, he was there for you but knew he would never be the biological father, and he was okay with it. When the baby was born and was hairy as a bear and had a dot on his nose just like John, he didn't believe it. He didn't want to raise his hopes. "It is Soap's, definitely." After a week, the paternity test came back, stating he is the father. John couldn't stop crying; he was the biological dad despite all the odds. He was the happiest man on earth.

Kyle: He held your hand while you gave birth, so concentrated on you that he didn't even look at the boy when he came out. When the nurse placed his boy on your chest with the remark "prettiest baby they have ever seen," he looked at the boy who looked like an exact copy of him, with beautiful amber eyes, his skin color, and already forming a charming smirk. It was over. "Just a pretty boy like his dad." The baby turned out to be like Kyle, and you were so proud of him. Gaz was such a wonderful father, treating every one of your kids, whether it's Simons, Johnnys, or Johns, as his own.

Soap: He knew it from the beginning. MacTavish genes are so strong, so he was always sure he was the dad. To cut him some slack, you and he had the most biological children together, three copies of Johnny, who made you rethink all of your life choices. It was a bad birth since the baby weighed already 10 pounds, a typical MacTavish baby. He started to cry when he saw the striking blue eyes. "You did such a good job, Bonnie, gave me a perfect bairn," he kissed you and the baby all over, apologizing to you about the birth, and overall became the perfect dad. And all the kids loved him, whether biological or not, so bad that you had four boys with mohawks all the time.

Ghost: He was more afraid to be the father than anything else. "What if I turn out just like my dad?" He didn't. He was one of the best dads you could ever imagine. When he looked the first time at the girl, he was 100% sure it was his. Blonde hair, pale skin, and already way too big, it was a Riley. He always held the baby on his bare chest, a thing he learned in all the books he read. Skin-to-skin is so important. He became the international best girl dad. This bulky man wore her pink backpack, made tea parties with your daughter, and overall was smitten. He loved all your children equally, but still, his little girl was his world.

Author's Note: All of them treat the children equally, whether they're biological or not, but it's still somehow something so deep for them when they see their mini-mes. You, on the other hand, are pissed how none of the children turn out to look like you despite being in labor for hours. "Not fair." "No more sex." "Go away, Johnny, with your fertile genes." "Mhm, Kyle and John can stay."

#cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #captain john price #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 #call of duty #simon ghost riley #john price #soap mw2 #soap x reader #soap cod #john soap mactavish #141 #ghost call of duty #ghost #ghost cod #simon ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #captain price mw2 #captain price #john price x reader #price x reader #price x y/n #price x you #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick

[harryistheonlyoneforme]

maison*

warnings: smut, sleepy sex, creampie, cockwarming

summary: in which harry returns home after being away and just wants to be close to his wife

pairing: ceo harry x reader

a/n: maison is the french word for home

blog navigation | masterlist | taglist

~

yn stirs awake as she feels the bed dip beside her, jostling her body just a bit. her eyes are still closed despite her being mostly awake, and she nearly jumps out of her skin as she feels warmth hover over her before arms are being wrapped around her. she finally pops her eyes open when she can feel harry breathing against her face, something she absolutely hates.

“i’m sorry, honey. didn’t mean to wake you, just wanted to love on you a bit,” he apologizes, but she knows he can’t feel too bad as he begins peppering sweet kisses all over face and down to her neck. he smiles against her as she huffs halfheartedly, taking a glance around the room and seeing that the sun is out, but not too bright. she knows that his flight landed at 5am, so it should be around 6 now.

“‘s too early,” she groans, but she can’t stop herself from reaching up and playing with his hair a bit, following his head as his kisses get lower and lower the more feverish they become. she has a bad habit of falling asleep straight out the shower without putting clothes on, and for once harry doesn’t give her a lecture about if something happens while she’s sleeping; this time, he uses that to his advantage.

he hums against her skin before nipping at her bare shoulder. “never to early to love on my wife, missed you so much,” he mumbles. he’d been gone for an entire week in another state for a press conference, and they’d only been able to sneak in some brief calls in between speeches and before he heads to bed. all of the fancy dinners and boring conversations only made him miss her that much more.

she wraps her arms around him but ultimately loosens her grip when he goes lower, his kisses traveling to the dip between her breasts. her breathing is picking up now, her back arching up into him just a bit when he ghosts right over her nipple, but his lips move to the skin right around it. that pulls a whimper from her chest but he doesn’t pay any attention to it as he moves lower and lower, past her belly and her hips, until he’s eye level with her center but he doesn’t do anything.

“missed you too. please, do something,” she’s growing desperate now, the amount of teasing irritating her just a bit. he woke her up but is teasing her, it’s unfair.

“yeah? y’gonna let me make you feel good? gonna let your husband take care of you?” he rasps, feeling his cock twitch against the sheets. she only whines and nods in agreement, bucking her hips to meet his mouth.

“yes, i want that,” she gasps, feeling him gently nip at one of her dampening folds before spreading her open to get a good look at her clit. she shakes her head at that, though, tapping his shoulders to get his attention. “no, don’t want you to eat me out, need you inside,” she explains, and harry grunts in annoyance as he’d take any excuse to have his face between her thighs but he can never say no to her.

“y’such a brat,” he rasps, but his words hold no weight as he slips his boxers down his legs and kicks them somewhere at the foot of the bed. he begins to move up her body until he’s lying beside her. “roll over, gonna take you like that,” he instructs. she’s immediately turning over until they’re face to face and getting comfortable, and harry wastes no time in propping her leg up over his hip. angling his hips, he swipes the head of his clock through her folds, pulling a whine from deep inside her chest.

pressing his lips to hers, he lines himself up with her before inching in slowly, the both of their mouths falling open at the slight stretch. she feels so warm around him and he makes her feel so full. he gives her a moment to get accustomed to him before he’s holding onto her hip and pulling out just a bit and pushing back in m, even deeper. that single thrust sends her reeling, her hands flying to his shoulders for a bit of stability as he starts to fuck her.

“feel so fuckin’ good around me, ‘s unreal,” he gasps against her lips, pressing kisses to her open mouth. the moment the praise leaves his lips, the loudest moan he’s heard all night falling from hers. she couldn’t speak even if she wanted to, the way he’s filling her so deeply taking her breath away. the two fall into silence as harry keeps an eye on her to monitor how she’s reacting to him, save for the sounds of their moans and grunts with each meeting of their hips.

he knows she’s close when she gets this deep furrow in her brows and her leg twitches slightly against his hip, but he doesn’t even need to coax it from her any longer as she just tenses up against him and locks down on his cock with no further warning.

“that’s it, angel. i’ve got you,” he coos, holding her tight against him as she finally lets go, the evidence of her orgasm being the ring of arousal she leaves at the base of his cock when she does. his thrusts never falter as he works her through the entire thing. not until he can feel the beginning of his orgasm creeping up on him. “feel so good around me, gonna fill you up,” his words are choppy as his cock begins to twitch inside of her.

he can’t even provide her with anymore words as his orgasm takes over, a broken moan leaving his lips as his cum leaves his tip in warm spurts, her still fluttering hole milking him as he fills her. he continues gently rutting into her until he has no more left in him, slumping against the pillow when he’s finished. he doesn’t want to pull his softened cock from her but he knows the position will get unbearable after a while, so he makes the decision to move them.

holding her tight and rolling them over, harry maneuvers them until he’s on his back with her stop him, making sure he stays inside her the whole time. the angle change makes her whine in overstimulation but he’s shushing her with a kiss to the top of her head. “i know, ‘m sorry. just gonna stay like this now, i won’t move again,” he promises.

a chill runs through her body and she starts to shiver against him, causing him to frown slightly before reaching for the blanket to cover them with. once she’s warm, she’s out against his chest in mere minutes, her soft snores tickling the light hairs on his chest. he just takes a few moments to admire her, his eyes taking in every single one of her features as his eyes get heavier and his breaths begin to even out. the last thing he sees before he succumbs to the slumber is the little subconscious scrunch of her nose as she feels his breath on her face, and a small, lazy smile forms on his face as his head falls back onto the pillow.

~

#harryistheonlyoneforme #harry styles fic #harry styles fic rec #harry styles #harry styles smut #smut #harry styles filth #harry related writings #dbf harry styles #dbf harry #new post #new fic #ceo harry #ceorry #ceo harry styles #ceo!au #ceo au #ceorry smut #ceo aesthetic #ceo!harry #harry styles writing

[eddies-ashtray]

“baby, baby, baby, baby,” eddie repeats over and over, his breath ghosting your neck with his chin on your shoulder. 

if sober eddie hardly had any concept of personal space, drunk eddie couldn’t even imagine a world in which he was more than a foot away from you or not touching you. he got very needy when he was drunk. tonight at jeff’s house was no different. 

turning your head to him as much as you could with his big head on your shoulder, you side eye him for a moment, eyebrows raised in amusement. 

“hi, sweetheart,” eddie greets, a dopey smile slicing across his face. 

“hi, eddie. need somethin’, baby?” 

you note the rosiness of his cheeks immediately. 

“wanta kiss,” he pouts.

“okay. well. can’t exactly do that with your head on my shoulder now, can i?” you reason. immediately, eddie removes his head from your shoulder and manhandles you until you’re sitting with your legs draped over his lap on the couch. 

“there,” eddie says triumphantly, his big hands groping the dough of your thighs, squeezing and releasing every few seconds. 

you don’t comment on how he could have done without pulling you over his lap to get a kiss because that just wouldn’t make sense to drunk eddie. 

fulfilling his request, you peck him on the mouth once, then brush the hair out of his face when you pull away.

eddie’s still pouting though.

“that sucked. need a reallll one,” he drawls. 

“a real one?” you question, though you know exactly what he’s asking. 

“here,” eddie says, releasing your thighs and instead holding your face in his hands so he can pull you into a “real” kiss where he slips his tongue into your mouth rather sloppily, his nose smushed against your face. 

you can taste the alcohol on his tongue instantly as he kisses you and you don’t pull away until gareth wolf whistles at your PDA.

when you look to him, he jests, “don’t stop on my account.”

“shut up,” you retort half heartedly. gareth just sticks his tongue out at you immaturely and turns back to jeff, snickering. 

but eddie doesn’t seem to hear any of this, his lips moving to your neck, kissing and licking at the skin there. 

and then, “can we go? wanna be alone with you,” he requests, probably a little too loudly. 

pulling his face away from your neck and holding him in your hands seems to ground him for a moment, his dark eyes shining as he stares into yours. 

“you’re drunk, eds. i’m not gonna do anything with you when you’re drunk.” his pale skin is warm beneath your palms. 

eddie deflates, shoulders sagging as he says, “jesus, you’re so respectful...but pleaseee?” 

eddie flashes you his best puppy dog eyes, but still, you don’t relent. 

“mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head.

when he tries to protest, “but!-” you interrupt:

“would you wanna fuck me if i was totally smashed and barely coherent?” 

eddie’s eyes widen at that, a soft gasp slipping past his lips as if he was horrified by the thought.

“would never take advantage of you, why would you even say that? that’s terrible,” he moans, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you tightly. 

“too tight,” you squeak.

“sorry, sorry, m’sorry, didn’t meant to,” eddie apologizes, loosening his grip around your shoulders and rubbing your arm softly.

eddie rests his forehead against your shoulder.

“s’okay. think it’s time to go, hm?” you whisper and eddie nods softly against you.

eddie lifts his head up as you plant your feet on the carpeted floor and stand, hauling eddie up off the couch as well. he stumbles slightly, but you steady him with an arm wrapped around his waist.

as you walk towards the basement stairs, eddie slings an arm around your shoulder. 

“you guys leavin’?” jeff asks from a beanbag chair facing the television.

“yeah, gotta get this one home,” you inform as eddie hiccups and boops your nose. 

“drive safe!” jeff hollers as you help eddie up the stairs.

once in the passenger seat of his van, eddie lolls his head to the side to watch you buckle in and start the vehicle.

“thanks for takin’ care o’me,” eddie slurs with a lazy smile.

you turn to face him for a moment.

“always.”

-

pt.2

pt. 3

#eddie munson #reader is eddie’s sober dd!! #eddie munson x gn reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson headcanons

[yawnderu]

Ghosty poo making reader cry and she locks herself in the room and he goes to apologize but shes all bratty and stuff but eventually forgives him idk im in a angst to fluff mood

HII love!! I didn't recognize the new PFP JBEFBHJFEJHB I missed u!! Answering this with another similar req!! ''Ghost and reader arguing and he makes her cry so she ignores him all day, and he feels really really bad and tries apologizing pleaseee???''

''Go away.'' You mumble softly, a frown on your lips as you hide from him under the blankets, not wanting him to see the tears rimming your eyes after the argument you had. It was something stupid, you barely even remember what it was, yet it was the first time ever he used harsh words on you.

''Talk to me, love, please.'' He was starting to get nervous, nibbling his lower lip softly as he thought about what to do or say to make things better. You're the one thing he can't afford to lose. He sits down next to you, running a hand up and down your back as he tries to sooth you.

''I'm sorry, baby. I'll do anything, just talk to me.'' His words take a pleading tone, laying down next to you and scooting you up close to him even when your back is turned to him and your body is covered by the blanket.

''... Takeout and flowers?'' You ask softly, sniffling as your hands reach up to wipe away your tears, hesitantly moving the blanket away from your face to look up at him.

''Takeout and flowers.'' He promises, arms wrapping around you and a firm kiss planted on your forehead.

#ghost mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon riley #call of duty #cod mw2 #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #mw2 simon riley #ghost simon riley #simon riley imagine #ghost x f!reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #mw2 fanfic #mw2 x reader #mw2 2022 #mw2 ghost #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw3 #modern warfare 2 #cod #simon ghost fluff #hurt/comfort #angst to fluff

[adelheidvonschicksal]

hey! Was just wondering, could you do a part 2 for puppy! Yuji x reader, where Yuji successfully breeds reader, (don’t ask how it’s possible lol) and reader doesn’t know she’s pregnant, so Yuji tries to tell her she is by rubbing her belly, or laying on it and always holding it. Also some smut if you still do that kinda stuff! I understand if you wouldn’t want to do it! But I would really appreciate it! Live your work btw! <3

Based off I Love Yu

Kind of a what-if since originally there was an implication that he couldn't breed Reader, but let's do it! <3 Thank you to Avy for beta-ing for me again.

AN: It's been a while since I wrote non-solo smut I think. I love Itadori he's already really sweet and cute like a pup! I tried to fit some smut in there so I hope this is something like you were thinking.

CW: NSFW, Smut, Oral (F!Receiving), Interspecies (Puppy Hybrid), pregnancy✨

Filter tags Notsfw, Adelssmut, tw: hybrids, tw: pregnancy

You didn’t understand what was wrong with you.

You’ve been feeling so rundown. No matter how much you sleep, the fatigue doesn’t break. It didn’t help that you could barely keep anything down either, surviving off nothing but toast over the last three days.

The only bright spot in your day recently is your precious puppy boy. Yuji is so sweet to you nowadays, well, he’s always sweet but even more so as of late. He constantly stares at you with big brown eyes and holds his arms around your waist while resting his head against your belly. The warmth of his full weight on you did wonders for the random waves of cramps that hit you after a long day on your feet.

This time when you get home from work, immediately collapsing on your bed with nothing but a towel on after a long shower, he’s there. His fingers tiptoe along your shoulder, a curious set of pokes against your steaming skin.

In a small burst of energy, you plant your hand between two furry ears and briefly pet his head before passing back out into the sheets, sparing no care that you were making them damp. The coolness of them felt too good right now.

Yuji presses a hand to the back of your head, mimicking your actions as he lays on his side to try to catch a glimpse of your face.

“Mad?” he asks.

“I’m not mad, sweetheart.” You work the energy to turn your head to face him. It isn’t the first time you collapsed into the bed in the same fashion. Usually, it meant you were burnt out at work by an assignment or a stupid co-worker. “I just don’t feel good today.”

Big eyes going soft in an apology, he frowns at you before having the excellent idea to squeeze the back of your ankles and shuffle you around. You never understand exactly where he finds this strength, even with all the muscles, but you don’t fight it as he wiggles you around to flip you onto your back.

His hands slide up the side of your legs, shifting your towel to expose one thigh before wrapping around your torso. He scrambles on top of you. His head pushes to your stomach, and he muffles a soft “love you” against it.

“Love me?” he asks, and it makes you wince. He never really asks that unless he did something that he thought would get him in trouble. He learned to get really good at asking once he figured out that buttering you up was an easy way to slip out of scolding.

This time, it concerns you that he might’ve taken your tiredness as something he did wrong, so you run a hand along his upper back. “Of course, I do.”

His tail wags and his face shines again with that smile you love as he cuddles against your belly again. It’s enough to make you ignore it when another cramp seizes, all save for a small whimper and wince that causes his ears to twitch.

Your puppy moves on his own before you can request him to get off your stomach. Warm, big hands hold down your hips and pull at your towel enough so he can pepper your lower belly with kisses. They progress slowly down the center of your stomach, crossing the border to ghost between your legs.

“Are you trying to make me feel better?” you breathe out. With how his tail increases its pace, swinging back and forth fast enough to create a light swishing sound, and how his smooth wide tongue flattens against your mound, you take it as a yes.

And oh boy does it work to make you forget everything when he sets to work. His nails scratch against your skin, biting into the meat of your thighs as his tongue laps at your clit.

You moan eagerly, gripping at your sheets and lifting your hips to greet his sloppy mouth. He makes out with your cunt, almost like he’s trying to devour it as his tongue slides between your folds and his upper lip brushes your bead.

“Sweetheart, do you still know how to use your fingers?”

Yuuji growls and places a kiss on your thigh, smiling against your skin at the wet stain he marks you with. He brings two fingers at your entrance, glancing back up to watch your crumbling expression as he curls them into you.

“That’s it. G-Good boy,” you praise, and he knows he’s struck the right spot that’ll have your pretty moans vibrating in his sensitive ears.

You smell heavenly when he finally flattens his tongue back out over your clit. He knows you’re his, all his, when your walls flutter and suck his fingers deeper into their spongy hold.

He sucks in a breath through his nose. Your scent makes his cock twitch and the swollen and firm feel of your clit tells him you’re feeling good now, and he’s so happy to return the feeling you give him when you constantly float around with the pheromone of his pups.

Yuuji wraps his arms tighter around you, holding you closer. It makes you force a hand down into his hair, praises of “good boy”, “keep going”, ”almost there, sweetheart” panting wetly from your lips until your legs quiver in his strong hold.

When he pulls away, his face is coated in your release, from his nose down, far beyond where his tongue can reach but he wastes no time sucking your taste from his fingers with a smile as he stares at your spent form.

You may be sweaty and out of breath, but you look much happier now. Yuuji crawls over you, sliding his hips between your legs. His hard length presses against your stomach as he presses kisses to the center of your neck, his soft ginger ears tickling the underside of your chin.

Your heart could almost hold the world when he forces his full weight against you to cuddle you.

“I love you.”

You coo at him, scratching fingers through the back of his hair. “I love you too, Yu Yu.”

When he hears your voice, his cock aches. He whines against your skin, wishing that this time would go faster so he could breed you again already. He guesses it doesn’t matter this time, he knows you’ll still at least feel better after he knots you, even if your body is already occupied.

And the whimper you make when he parts you with his cock proves him right.

When the morning comes, you don’t want to get out of bed. You’d rather spend all day cuddling Yuuji and smothering yourself into the sweet strength of his muscles. Alas, you force yourself to get up and go to the doctor’s appointment you made for yourself otherwise you’d never feel better.

You let Yuuji sleep, sliding out from under him, throwing on the first thing you see in your closet, and heading to the clinic.

You enter the building with the expectation of getting some antibiotics or confirmation of stomach flu at worst. Instead, you’re given a list of vitamins to take, a note with a list of symptoms at the bottom all culminating in a diagnosis that reads: pregnant, and a little baby badge to attach to your bag so people won’t hassle you for using the special seats on the subway.

You’re scowling the entire way back home, stopping briefly at a drug store to pick out a couple of different pregnancy tests. There’s no way those stupid doctors had it right.

When you return home, you slam the door behind you, spooking your puppy as you rush to the bathroom. You take the first test that morning and the second one that afternoon, and they both come back with the same result: positive.

Your heart is racing the entire rest of the evening as you sit on the couch and stare at that dumb stick for what seems like forever, thinking that maybe if you stare at it enough your result will change. The only thing that keeps you from going ballistic is Yuuji sitting underneath you, one leg shuffled between yours and the other on the outside of your right. His chin rests right on your knee as he watches you talk with your friend on the phone.

“Is it someone you met on that app?”

“I haven’t even gone on more than a first date.”

Yuuji starts to get impatient the longer your conversation goes on, and you ignore him. He shuffles up onto the couch and collapses his head against your shoulder, making you grimace and shift, so he doesn’t knock the phone out your hand.

“You don’t think that maybe—"

“No, it was only two, and one was for coffee and the other we didn’t ride together,” you add on, and you never drunk enough to where you think someone could have taken advantage of you. “Yuuji cut it out,” you scold when he starts to whine and pull at your waist. Sensing he wasn’t going to stop any time soon, you decide to hang up. “I’ll call you back.”

You put down the phone, turning to your pup to ask him what was wrong. He snuggles against you, rubbing his head against your shoulder and sliding an arm around your stomach.

He mumbles out your name and starts to weigh you back, just enough so your lower back presses against the arm of the couch and he can scoot down to place his head on your stomach and breathe in deep.

“Love you,” he mumbles and looks as though he could almost fall asleep against you. You almost repeat it before the unsettling realization crashes down on you.

That’s impossible, isn’t it? You’re not even the same species!

“Yuuji,” he snaps his head up, pinning his ears back at the rough sound of your voice, “Did you do this?” you ask him, showing him the pregnancy stick. He doesn’t seem to understand so you put it in words he can. “Breed?” you ask.

He senses that you finally get it and gives you the widest smile you think you’ve ever seen him wear. It’s almost enough to make you laugh. Almost.

“You’re downright proud of yourself, aren’t you?”

Happily, he buries his forehead against your stomach. “Good boy?”

You sigh but pet him anyway, seeing that this is very much your fault in the first place. Besides you can’t stay mad at that face. “Very good boy.”

#itadori smut #yuuji x reader #itadori x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #tw: hybrids #tw: pregnancy #female reader #yuuji itadori x reader #adelssmut #notsfw

[ghostaholics]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐒

➸ PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader (established relationship) ➸ WARNING(S): [ 18+ ] body shots; oral (receiving); ruined orgasm; basically PWP with slight BDSM (disciplinary action) ➸ SUMMARY: Simon teaches you a very important lesson about holding still – extended version of this. ➸ A/N: Thank you to @mvtthewmurdvck who lets me bitch about anything and everything including this and offered kind words when I certainly lost faith in the whole thing. ➸ WORD COUNT: 2.2k

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐎𝐍, 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍’𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄. Pilfered from his not-so-secret stash and running low with about a quarter left; the contents slosh around in their bottle-shaped confinement as he stalks into the room with a heavy hand swallowing around the widest circumference of the glass.

Good memories, usually. Like the first time he’d brandished his titanium pocket flask for you to take a sip. You’d scrunched your nose, feigning disapproval of the drink. And he'd said – cheeky as always – with a low-timbered response:

"Don't worry. The taste of your cunt's still my favourite."

But now, there’s no trace of that Simon anywhere to be seen. His face is entirely devoid of the amusement he already so rarely expressed. Stone-rigid. Unimpressed. Disappointed – seems like – and certainly not in the mood for any games.

❝ 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐇? ❞

It's a red-hot brand searing the edges of your memory (charred, ash-coated, lined by the cinders of a poor attempt on your part that had gone up into flickering embers).

See, the brain remembers it well.

Your cunt, too: the walls hugging his cock, full of his cum – excessively so, nearly bursting with it after he'd buried himself to the hilt and stayed inside just to plug your snug little hole, ensuring that none of it would dribble out after he’d fucked you senseless. He’d given you plenty, more than enough. And it’d been generous of Simon. A gift, really, considering the enormity of the initial request.

Make me yours?

He’d only had one thing to say, just a simple favour in return for doing this, for indulging you. His voice had been hoarse, sandpaper-rough from overuse – your fault entirely – eroded away after being subjected to a whole night's worth of groaning against the shell of your ear and telling you just how fucking good you felt before you'd milked him for everything he was worth with your greedy, pulsing self.

Keep it all in then.

You’d done your best not to clench, but stretched taut around the girth of his cock like that, you'd just wanted to readjust. Not a lot. But the position you'd been in wasn't the most conducive one for this. And you’d shifted – barely, practically inconsequential (or so you’d thought) – to where you wouldn’t have even thought it’d matter except—

It had.

Pushed some of it out, that is. A stream of cum trickling down onto an area of the duvet, staining it – the unfortunate aftermath of your decision to move.

Thas’ a shame. Thought you wanted it. Guess I was wrong.

Simon comes to a stop at the foot of the bed where you're sitting; he towers over you – an intimidating, subduing presence without even having to try. "Had to wash the sheets because you couldn't keep it all in.”

You blink in surprise as your mouth parts slightly in what you're sure must be a dumbfounded expression. Of course, this is nothing new. You were there. Responsible for the incident, apparently. And though it wasn't necessarily your fault, you still feel the need to explain that it was due to factors beyond your control. “There was so much—” (As if it'll help your case.)

But he's never cared much for excuses.

“How ‘m I supposed to finish inside you knowing that you’re just going to waste it?” he asks. It's a rhetorical question, not one that actually requires an answer.

Your chin tips down in a silent apology. There's something heavy sitting in your chest; remorse, you think.

He grips your jaw in his hand, forces you to look at him. “Yeah, love. We’ll fix that. Gonna teach you how to be grateful, how to understand the value in the things I give to you."

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒.

He makes you tell him your colors.

You do.

He asks if you know what you’re supposed to get out of this.

You answer that he’s probably going to have to wash the sheets again before you can learn whatever lesson he’s trying to impose on you.

Yeah, that earns you a sharp pinch to the hip.

That massive body of his sinks to the floor, one leg bending down before the other joins it, rough carpet cutting into his knees, undoubtedly. Then, his fingers curl around your legs, blunt digits sinking in – ten identical divots pressed into the flesh. He leaves light indentations with his palms spanning along the sides of your thighs to spread you open while his elbows anchor into the mattress.

Heat blooms across your skin, every surface that he touches and even in the places that he doesn't – white-hot, intentional (and he never does anything without purpose); it sparks a fever that fans out, unfurls. There's no part of you left unaffected. You're growing warmer by a few degrees. Doesn't sound like much, but it's enough to make a noticeable difference if the beads of sweat gathering at the back of your neck are any indication.

And Simon lets out a soft scoff. Cocky. Like he knew what was waiting for him—

You're soaked, absolutely drenched. Cotton panties, sticky –saturated beyond belief. If you looked there yourself, you wouldn't be surprised to find a damp patch on the fabric steadily growing in size.

He's such a sight, too: the contour of his muscles shifting and rippling, all brawn and power – his presence speaking volumes about just who holds the cards right now, undeniably the one in control here; the visual of his stature and build emphasize that. And authority bleeding from the width of his shoulders if not spelled out by his words alone.

"Haven't even touched you, and you're already dripping," he murmurs. "Why?"

Your mouth trips and stutters over your own words the same way your heart trips and stutters over his. "Because you—y-you're..."

His thumbs hook into your panties, slowly peels them away – not an easy feat, damn things are clinging to your cunt – before dragging them down your legs. "Say it, sweetheart. What do you think I'm gonna do to you?"

And your mind is racing, jumping too many steps ahead. "You're going to eat me out?"

Simon stuffs his panties in his back pocket for safekeeping. A souvenir, since there won't be much use for them now. "I'm gonna eat you out," he affirms.

"Mhm, yeah. Want your mouth on me."

"Whether or not you come depends entirely on if I feel like letting you."

"Oh—"

"Spill a single drop, and you don't come tonight," he says, never one to draw out the details. His instructions are concise, uncomplicated. Then, further inquiry. "We clear?"

"Yeah..." you say with a shaky breath before trying to regain some semblance of composure. "Yes."

"Good girl," he purrs low, almost a growl – though you're not quite certain that you deserve the praise yet.

He’s answering to a shrine, beckoned forward by the invitation of a wet cunt and the promise of a taste of your slick. He pauses, takes a brief moment to admire it in his own way, almost reverent as he takes in how your arousal’s smeared everywhere from your folds to your inner thighs (all for him, because of him – isn’t that right?).

But make no mistake, there’s absolutely nothing respectful about the act that comes next. Simon leans, forces his shoulders to hold you open, before he bows his head and he licks; it’s a hungry tongue lapping at the slit, everything terribly hot and wet – the sensation makes you jolt upon first contact because it's too much. So, so much.

And at the same time, not enough.

The feeling spikes along the circuit running from your head to your toes – empty thoughts save for the white static that buzzes in the hollow of your skull, a tingling, prickling paresthesia-sort-of-thing that usually accompanies the high of an orgasm. Except, the irony’s not lost on you in this instance; he’s hardly even begun to wreak havoc on your cunt yet.

Currents zip down your spine, down, further down, everything else collateral damage. No part of you is spared by the overwhelming fervor responsible for it – the initial onslaught of his mouth laying waste at the spread of your entrance.

Every single nerve-ending is on-edge, trigger-sensitive as he sucks, and kisses, and fuck are his groans heavy, bone-deep, the rumble of a thunderstorm gathering in his chest. They radiate from the point of origin where your core’s suffering, reverberating tremors that diffuse out to the rest of you. It makes your skin thrum like a live wire. There’s no hope of staying in a fixed position if he keeps this up. How could you? The odds are zero to none. It isn’t feasible.

You forget your place, can't help but squirm within his iron grip.

Then, Simon; a severe reprimand— "Watch it," he rasps. It’s a lull amidst the incursion, an unplanned interlude. Temporary reprieve (barely) so he can scold you for your inability to follow his instructions.

A low whimper leaves your throat. That's completely out of the question, beyond what you're currently capable of. Easier said than done. "I'm trying—"

"Then try harder."

Despite how weighed down your eyelids feel, you manage to guide your laden gaze south, let it roam over your stomach. The dark, amber liquid in your navel sways; it rocks, sloshes with the tide, a consequence born from the pull and heave of your jarring movements. Exercise caution. This is delicate work – a balancing act. Those thoughts are cloudy.

Your mind is fuzzy, thick, a drunken haze. Buzzed, lightheaded. And everything's off-kilter. But you haven't had a single drop of alcohol. None at all. Couldn’t, because everything's still sitting in your navel right there like it’s supposed to.

Simon dips his head back between your legs, continues to seal his mouth over you, flattening his tongue to lick thick stripes from your entrance to your clit. He doesn't let up, only bringing his face closer, following that same path again and again and again – agonizing – until you're trembling. The noises he’s making, something debauched and bottomless – one wet groan after the other. This isn't for you. It's for him, that much is clear.

You plead anyways, hoping he'll grant you an amnesty that you haven't earned in the least bit, "Need you inside. Anything, just—"

"Sure you can handle it?"

Breathless when you say, "Ah, yeah..."

"We'll see about that," Simon murmurs.

He doesn't believe you.

To be fair, you’re not so sure you do either.

But he's courteous, slips one finger in and lets you clamp around him. And your cunt flutters, welcomes the feeling.

You release a soft moan. “Want more, Si. Feels good."

His face turns to the side, wet nose and chin grazing along your thigh to spread the slick in more places that haven't been drenched yet. Then he bites. Gentle. An admonishment. Nothing serious about it though: scraping, the light pressure of teeth sinking into the skin as he pulls with his mouth.

You jerk suddenly before catching yourself.

"Don't be fuckin' greedy. You'll take what I give you, and you'll thank me for it." He's curt, perfunctory. No delay as he offers up his two fingers to your mouth. The expectation is clear. “Suck.” And he's waiting.

You wrap your lips around them, swallowing him down, not one to squander an opportunity sitting in front of you, right? You understand that now.

“So tell me how good you taste.”

"I-um, taste good—"

"Yeah, you fuckin' do."

"Thank you."

“Mhm.”

You can't see it, but you can hear it: the low clinking of a belt being unbuckled, the sound of a zipper being undone. Clinking metal and rustling denim being tampered with somewhere below your line of sight as he reaches down, almost like he— is he… oh.

Most of his body's obscured by the edge of the bed, but everything from the chest up is still visible. Simon's shoulder is bobbing slightly, arm pumping back and forth in a rhythmic motion and fuck, he's getting himself off to this.

That sends another spark of arousal to your core, makes you gush. It adds to the mess coating his jaw, his chin, his lips. You whimper out something – broken syllables – his name, maybe. You’re not entirely sure.

God, you’re almost there. So close. Wound up tight, hips rolling against his mouth, chasing his tongue—

Until he stops entirely. No contact. Simon pulls away in such a rush that you gasp, startled.

"Look at that." Accusatory.

It's a trail of liquor dribbling over the curve of your stomach, down your side in small rivulets. There are streaks pooling onto the sheets underneath you. Tragic.

(Couldn't help yourself, huh?)

Guilty as charged.

Shit.

"What'd I say – told you to hold still, yeah?"

And even though you had a feeling it would happen, you still have the nerve to act surprised at the result. "Fuck," you whine pathetically. "Was so close—"

"We're starting over. Don't care if it takes us all night, we're gonna keep at this 'til you get it right or you use up the rest of the whiskey," he says, readying himself to deposit another pour of alcohol into your navel. Simon lifts his shoulder in a light shrug like he can't be bothered about the final outcome. "Better pray that it works out before the bottle’s empty. Won't let you finish otherwise, sweetheart. Understand?"

#honestly i got so lazy towards the end but that is not my problem #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #ghost x reader #cod mw x reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw 2 #call of duty smuty #ghost cod