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greatooglymooglyyy · 1 month

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Lovers and Friends I (M.S.)

summary: when y/n's boyfriend invites her out to a dinner a week before her birthday, the last thing she's expecting is to get broken up with. but little does she know, it opens a window for her bestfriend, matt, to tell her what he's been trying to for years; that he's hopelessly in love with her. headed off to vegas for her dream music festival, matt (and the rest of their crew) try to find a way to open her eyes to what she's been blind to for years... that it's been them all along.

executive produced & cowritten by sienna @rootbeerworshiper

contains: brokenhearted reader, y/n getting cheated on, break up emotions, pining, cussing, fluff

series masterlist

Y/N’s POV

“He said it’s a surprise.” I giggle, applying a thin layer of cream blush to my upper cheeks. “Do you think he’ll take me to that one Italian place I like?”

Matt sighs, constantly trying to be supportive of my many thoughts. “Hopefully. He didn’t say anything about what you should wear or something?”

I shake my head, a grin still pushing my lips apart. “No, isn’t that romantic? Our anniversary is coming up soon maybe it has something to do with that”

I've always been a huge romantic. Simple gestures and fun dates always brought me joy I couldn't find elsewhere. So it’s extra exciting that Asher planned out a night for us since that’s usually not his thing.

“Or,” Matt offers, his voice a bit muffled from the positioning of his phone. “he’s trying to make up for being a fucking idiot and forgetting your birthday.”

I roll my eyes, choosing to ignore Matt’s distaste for my boyfriend. “He didn’t forget. He’s just a busy guy.”

Matt makes a small sound of disagreement and I sigh and let it go. If almost a year of dating hasn’t softened up his stance on Asher, then nothing will.

After applying my final coat of setting spray, I step back from the camera so Matt can see my whole face and outfit. “How do I look?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, just stares through the phone with a small smile. “You look exactly like you always do.”

“Bummy?”

“Beautiful.”

*************************************

“Oh. Nobu.” I say, trying not to let the disappointment show on my face as Asher whips into the parking lot of the restaurant.

“Yeah. You don’t mind, right? You know how much I love their sushi rolls.” He says as he joins the queue for a valet.

“Of course not,” I say, keeping my voice chipper even as my stomach turns over. Seafood alone is already a no-go for me and that’s before you add raw fish to the mix. But, I don’t want to seem unappreciative so I suck it up, adjusting my dress and stepping out of the car when it is our turn.

Asher pulls his hand back before hanging his keys to the valet, giving them a cold stare. “Not a scratch on the Lexus.”

I roll my eyes, hating how rude he always is about his precious car, and take his arm so he can lead us into the restaurant. He strolls up to the hostess stand and asks for someone by name and we are seated almost immediately.

Asher orders for the both of us without looking at the menu and I make a mental note that I’ll be ordering Mcdonald’s as soon as I get home.

“So,” He starts and I sit up straighter, anticipation heating my face. “I wanted to talk to you about something important.”

I lean forward, unable to stop bouncing my leg in excitement. “Yeah?”

“Look. I think we should break up.” He says, reaching out and taking a leisurely sip from his water. Barely even looking at me as my face drops the once happy expression.

A waiter comes around and sets down our plates in front of us, clearly trying to pretend he didn’t overhear but I’m too frozen to care. He scurries away, shooting me a sympathetic glance over his shoulder.

I stare at Asher and blink rapidly, sure that I must have heard him wrong. “What?”

“It’s not you.” He says calmly. “It’s me. This is just not working for me.”

“I don’t understand. What’s not working?” I ask, my voice getting a bit frantic. “And you decided to bring me out to dinner for this? Why?”

Asher looks around the restaurant making sure I’m not drawing too much attention. “ Honestly, I thought doing it in public would be less of a scene.”

Less of a scene. Like breaking up with me for no reason wasn’t a scene in itself.

I scoff, sitting back in disbelief. “Stop bullshitting me! There has to be more. Is there…is there someone else?” My lips quiver slightly but I bite down on it, smudging the lipstick I spent forever applying.

He breathes deep as if all of this is a big inconvenience. As if I’m an inconvenience. “Fine. You want honesty? I’m in love with Olivia.”

As soon as he says it, it’s like a Lego snapping into place. The late night with his brand new “protegè”, the texts that went unanswered for hours when they were together, the dozens of times he insisted he could never look at her like that.

Asher watches me like I’m a caged animal about to strike for a long moment before he speaks again. “Y/N, I never meant to hurt you.”

And despite everything, despite the situation and the ache growing in my chest, the absurdity of his words strike me as funny. Before I can help myself, I’ve burst into laughter, deep and genuine.

Asher’s face goes from faux sympathy to puzzlement to anger in a few seconds flat and he stands swiftly, grabbing his wallet and throwing a few bills on the table.

My laughter finally dies down as I watch him leave through the glass windows. I make no move to follow him out, instead sitting in wonder as onlookers throw me curious stares. There’s no way I’ve been this blind and stupid. I feel like I’ve woken up in the Twilight Zone.

It’s funny that I was that oblivious but It’s also impossible to not be hurt by it. The one time he treated me like a proper girlfriend was to tell me he’s done with me.

I must sit there for way longer than necessary because a waiter comes and asks me if he can clear the plates. Embarrassed now, I stand and thank him, rushing out the door and pulling out my phone.

My chest hurts, like It’s being weighed down by something invisible. All this time. All this time this was happening and my head was too far up in the clouds to notice, telling my best friend about every cute thing he did… every cute thing he’ll probably do for Olivia.

I hadn’t even noticed it had started to rain but I’m glad for it as I head down the sidewalk, the sadness finally catching up to me. Sobbing, I find the contact of the boy I know will drop everything to show up for me; my mascara and tears mixing with rainwater as Matt answers my call after the first ring.

************************************

Matt’s POV

“I’m just saying,” Nick starts, heading around the table to grab a drink from the fridge. “Your crush is getting a little pathetic.”

I roll my eyes and lean back against my chair. “What do you want me to do? She’s our best friend.”

“No,” Nate cuts in, shaking his head and gesturing at the rest of the group. “She’s one of our best friends. She’s the girl you’ve been obsessed with for years.”

“Okay, chill. Obsessed is crazy.” I say quickly to defend myself.

“Not that crazy,” Chris says, apparently deciding to get in on the ‘shit on Matt’ train. “Is Y/N coming?” He mocks.

“Do you think Y/N would like this shirt?” Nick joins in with a laugh.

“Yeah, kid. They got you there.”

“You too, Madi?” I ask, emphasizing my betrayal. She shrugs, muttering a quiet ‘just saying.”

“I mean it really doesn’t matter anyway. She’s in a relationship.” I say, doing the best I can to keep the bitterness out of my voice. “And she’s happy. Not like I could tell her now.”

“Happy is a stretch, but okay,” Nick mutters under his breath but before I can ask what he means, my phone goes off.

I look down, seeing Y/N’s picture, and smile before answering, despite my hint of confusion. “Hey. You home already?”

“Matt…” She starts, her voice cracking and I’m on my feet before she can say another word.

“Where are you?”

*************************************

When we pull back into the garage, I turn off the car and look over at her, studying her profile. She’s been quiet since I picked her up a block from the restaurant, shaking from the cold. She had been absolutely hysterical, giving me the story through her tears. But once I wrapped my jacket around her, she'd calmed down and had spent the drive staring blankly out the window.

“I know this is a stupid question but are you okay?” I ask softly, brushing a thumb over her freezing-cold hand. The last thing I wanted to do was to treat her as if she'd break at any second, she was strong—But it’s hard to ignore how vulnerable she looks sitting next to me.

She nods and lets out a heavy sigh. I take that as a sign she doesn’t want to talk about it yet. But when I go to get out of the car, she stops me with a hand on my shoulder. “Thank you for coming to get me, Matt.”

The sincerity in her tone was enough to have me in shambles, someone hurt her and all I can do is deal with the aftermath

I reach up and place a hand over hers, giving her a reassuring smile despite how much my heart hurts for her. “Anytime. Anywhere. Any place.”

We walk into the house and the room falls silent as everyone takes in Y/N’s rattled appearance, preparing to walk on eggshells. But of course, Chris’ tactless ass is the first to speak.

“He left her in the fucking rain?” He exclaims, standing up and walking towards us but Y/N doesn’t respond, her teeth still sinking into her bottom lip. She just wraps my jacket tighter around herself, still trembling slightly from the harsh weather.

“C’mon,” I say softly, placing a hand on the small of her back and ushering her up the stairs to Nick’s room so she can take a shower and get comfortable. She has a stash of clothes there from the countless sleepovers they’ve had.

When she’s settled and I hear the water start to run, I head back down the stairs, anger flooding my body.

“Is she okay?” Nick asks, peering around me to make sure she’s not following me down.

I shake my head, pacing back and forth from the table to the couch. “That fucking piece of shit-”

“What happened? Did they break up?” Madi asks, scrunching her face up in confusion.

“Olivia. He got with fucking Olivia” I spit out, still overtaken by anger.

“Like the Olivia, he kept telling her not to worry about?” Nick asks, his own anger building up at the situation. To some extent, everyone knew about Asher and his questionable actions.

I clench my jaw, simply nodding at his question while continuing to pace. “Then the bitch just abandoned her at Nobu. Why were they even there? She fucking hates sushi, he should know that.” I rant.

I didn’t like Asher from the beginning of their relationship, Y/N knows that, but I'm also not entirely an asshole, so I’ve tried to be supportive.

But now? After leaving her in the rain? After leaving her entirely alone to cry in the rain, dislike isn’t even the word for how I feel anymore.

“Matt?” Chris speaks, bringing me back to reality.

I pause my steps, running my fingers through my hair. “Sorry, what?”

“I was saying, it’s fucked up that he did that shit the week before her birthday,” Chris says, a worry line gathering between his brows.

“We’re gonna have to make this trip extra special for her. Make sure she has fun.” Nick adds and Madi nods enthusiastically.

“On the bright side,” Nate chimes in, a smirk spreading across his face. “Matt, you might actually have a shot with your girl now.”

Before I can even respond, Chris barks out a laugh, leaning into the side of the couch like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. I narrow my eyes, stopping my pacing to glare at him. “What’s so funny?”

“You know damn well you’re not gonna make a move.” He laughs and Nate slaps his chest to shut him up, causing him to jolt forward slightly at the sudden sharp pain.

“You don’t know what I’ll do.” I snap defensively, my ego a little bruised at his lack of confidence.

“Okay.” Nate cuts in, leaning an elbow on Chris’ shoulder. “What if we make it interesting?”

“I’m listening,” I say hesitantly, taking a seat near Nick.

“50 dollars says you won’t tell her how you feel by the end of the trip” He says, pulling out his wallet and tapping it for emphasis.

“Deal,” I say pridefully, my mouth outrunning my head.

“Oh, I want in on this,” Chris says, leaning forward. “Another 50 says you can’t pull her.”

I grimace, not sure I like the idea of betting on my feelings for her. But Nick reaches over and tussles a hand through my hair. “Y’know what? I like Matt’s chances on this. You guys are on.”

Madi clears her throat and I look up to see Y/N coming slowly down the stairs, her face clean and hair still damp. The look on her face is a gut punch and my eyes track her as she walks over to where Nick holds his arms open.

And as she curls up into his side, her eyes snapping up to meet mine, all I can think is… what the hell did I just get myself into?

🏷️/ @sturniolho @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos

@teapartyprincess4two @whicked-hazlatwhore @sukiipjs @accio326 @sturniolosmind @imfromthediningtable @st4rswrld @thvvluvr @sturnssmuts @littlenerdybee @sturniolossss @iloveneilperry @eclipzw @chrissloverrrrrrr16 @sstvrnioloo @lacysturniolo

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mrshesh · 9 months

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hi! do you have any general hcs for the cod:ghosts boys?

general headcanons - call of duty: ghost's

overview: general headcanons of the call of duty: ghost's boys!

pairing: none!

genre: fluff, pure tomfoolery

a/n: hi anon! i'm thrilled i finally got a request for these boys. i love them so much, it's getting a bit unhealthy. you're truly the best for requesting them! i hope you love it!

x logan walker

He sucks at puzzles. He’s smart and tactical, but puzzles are on another level of difficulty for him.

He likes doodling a lot. If he has a pen and a surface to draw on, he will sketch a small smiley or a caterpillar. It has become such a habit that he doesn’t even think about it when he does it. It got so bad that once, Keegan called him out on it mid-doodle, leaving Logan embarrassed for a week.

He loves the ocean, but beaches annoy him. He hates sand. (I firmly believe his hate for them is from Hesh throwing sand in his face as children.)

He has a picture of him and Hesh as kids in his wallet. He feels calmer when he looks at it, getting into the habit of peeking at it when stressed.

He’s an avid Deftones enjoyer. He loves Beware and Diamond Eyes.

He likes caramel-scented things, but he doesn’t like the taste of it.

He has some insane dirt on Elias, and, of course, Hesh knows all of it.

For some odd reason, he’s phenomenal at parallel parking.

x david "hesh" walker

He loves movies. He can watch any genre! Horror? Great! Action? Love. Romance? Cute! Comedy? Perfect! He loves it all. Shows, however? Nope.

He takes pride in his nails being clipped and filed at all times. He was a nailbiter in his teens, so he cares about his nails more than he should today.

He can’t cook to save his life.

Eminem is his go-to artist. He loves and respects many artists, but Eminem will always be at the top of his list. He loves Stan.

He’s respectful in general.

He’s extremely secure and confident, yet he’s still pretty nervous when he talks to girls.

He loves long car rides. Driving around in his car while listening to his favorite songs brings out a unique joy in him.

He, unlike Logan, loves beaches! (He wasn’t the one who got sand thrown on him, so he’s thriving.)

He hates coriander.

x elias "scarecrow" walker

Unlike his son, Elias is great at puzzles! He’s disappointed Logan didn’t inherit that quality. He mourns it every day.

He loves pickles. (Same.)

He manipulated himself into liking beer many years ago.

People call him DILF all the time. It has happened too many times to count. He finds it funny, while Hesh and Logan are horrified every time.

He doesn’t know how to put on chapstick. He puts it between his lips and swipes it back and forth, not on his lips.

He got so much action when he was a teenager/young adult. He tells Logan and Hesh to “live a little” so they can experience that life, too.

He doesn’t listen to music often, but when he does, he listens to either Korn or Chris Isaak.

He adores Riley, sometimes stealing him from Hesh without warning.

x keegan russ

He secretly enjoys ASMR. It helps him unwind and de-stress, but not sleep, surprisingly.

He’s excellent at the game Mafia.

He has made way too many people giggle excitedly because of his voice. He finds it amusing but disturbing at the same time. He knows it’s attractive, but that many people? He has even made Elias giggle like a schoolgirl because of his vocal folds.

Keegan strikes me as a Slipknot fan. He finds Killpop and Vermillion to be sexy.

He loves grocery shopping.

He talks to himself a lot. He’s antisocial and quiet around others, but when Keegan’s alone, he keeps having full-on conversations with himself. Merrick caught him doing it once - he never brought it up again.

He enjoys lasagna a bit too much.

He had a motorcycle phase as a young adult. It got so bad he learned how to do a wheelie on them, but his love for them has died down in the many years he’s been alive.

He thinks wine is gross.

x thomas merrick

He cannot stand bananas. Everything about them makes him gag.

He gets such a rise out of being a bitch. He’s already annoying by default but strives to be even more insufferable for the fuck of it.

He, Alex, and Keegan smoke while being sentimental together at least once a month. (It’s always with Keegan and Alex - Elias, David, and Logan get left out.)

He listens to underground metal like Sold Soul, and he thinks it makes him superior to everyone else. (And he gatekeeps it.)

He’s immune to pretty much all physical pain except for waxing. It’s enough to make him cry.

He loved trains as a child.

His comfort song is Toxicity by System Of A Down.

His appetite is insane. This man can eat a horse and still be hungry by the end of it.

His calves are huge for some reason.

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thetriumphantpanda · 3 months

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LOST IN OUR VICES | TWO

Chapter Summary | A proper date has Marcus falling even further into his lie about who he is, but when you're as beautiful as you are, he can't find it in himself to care all that much.

Pairing | Professor!Marcus Pike x Student F!Reader

Word Count | 4.7K

Chapter Warnings | Dubious ethical relationship between a professor & student, Marcus continues to go along with a lie, art gallery date (I know nothing about art so go easy on me), romantic rain kisses, a dinner date featuring food and alcohol, two idiots slowly falling in love. Explicit smut - oral sex (f&m), a smattering of exhibitionism, unprotected PiV sex, creampie, some light somno (Marcus wakes you up eating you out), absolutely filthy talk, finger sucking, cumplay and I think that covers everything!

Authors Note | This..... well, what can I say. It simply fell out of me once I got into the swing of things - I wanted to make Professor Pike filthy and I think I've managed it. I'd love to know your thoughts, so feel free to comment, reblog or send me asks about this! As always, a huge thank you to @undercoverpena for reading this over and to @saradika for the beautiful divider.

Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for writing updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Marcus is stood at the bottom of the steps to the National Gallery, easy to spot in the crowd. He’d not really left your mind for the entire week, your lips still holding the ghost of his, the feel of his palm against your ass still branded onto your skin. You’d talked almost every day, texts back and forth, the usual thing when you were getting to know someone, but when he leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek, and then flashing that smile at you, he’s even more gorgeous than you’d remembered.

He grasps your hand in his own and leads you up the steps and into the gallery. He picks one of the free maps up and grabs a pen from his back pocket, telling you to circle three rooms. You’ve been here before and know exactly the paintings you want to see so it’s an easy task. He does the same, citing that if you wander aimlessly, you’ll be here all day, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but he’s got dinner reservations you have to keep.

Marcus picks Sunflowers by Van Gogh first, the bright yellow flowers bring you joy whenever you see them, especially so in these dark, winter months when life is so scarce. You insist on seeing The Fighting Temeraire because it reminds you of your grandfather, the reason you love art so much.

“I remember coming here with him when I was very small,” You explain, stood in front of the painting, “We stood here for so long, and I just remember thinking I wanted to learn more about it all.”

The rest of the afternoon slips by like that, showing each other paintings until you’ve run out. You’re stood in front of Marcus’ last pick, The Garden of Love. Somewhere along the afternoon, he’s taken hold of your hand, fingers entwined with yours.

“You can see the brush strokes,” He muses, pulling you in front of him, your back dangerously close to his front, his free hand pointing over your shoulder, “Lean forward, you can see them, I promise.”

And he’s right, his back pressed to yours to push you forward so you can see them. His mouth right by your ear as he talks you through what you can see, the stray brush hairs and the way the grass has been painted to give it movement. There are goosebumps flowing across your skin, before he remembers when you are and moves away from you slightly, letting your heartbeat return to normal.

There’s a moment where he checks his watch, then he takes hold of your hand and starts dragging you from the gallery - paintings blurring as you have to run a little to keep up with the pace. When you reach the front entrance, you hear it before you see it, the downpour of rain, fat droplets hitting the ground, forming puddles. You curse the fact you hadn’t properly checked the weather before leaving.

You look to Marcus, who holds up a finger, drops your hand slightly, then steps over to the side where a burly security guard nods his head toward Marcus and takes a step out of the way. There’s a small umbrella stand behind him and you watch as Marcus reaches over and plucks one of the umbrellas from it.

“Thanks, Mike, see you next week buddy.”

Mike tips his hat to Marcus, and then at you when he clutches your hand in his once more, adding a wink and a knowing smirk towards you like he knows exactly what's going to happen for the rest of the day.

You step into the downpour, letting Marcus hover the umbrella over the two of you. He stops, lets you take in the surroundings - Trafalgar Square bathed in darkness and soft light from the streetlamp’s. You crane your neck to look up at Nelson’s column.

“I remember coming here when I was younger, with one of my friends, and trying to take a picture of me touching the top of it from down there,” You point your finger down towards Whitehall, you know exactly where you stood all those years ago, “Hold on,” You say, fishing your phone out of your pocket, opening up the camera roll and scrolling as far back as you can, to find the exact photo you’re talking about, holding it in front of him, Marcus laughs, because the tip of your finger is nowhere near the top of the column, “Not my best attempt, I must say.”

Pocketing your phone, you take a few steps to the left, starting off to your dinner reservation, when you feel the warmth of Marcus’ palm slip around your wrist, turning you around so you’re stood in front of him, toe-to-toe, your face tilted up at him.

He brings his free hand, the one not holding the umbrella, up to your cheek, and you feel his thumb brush over the skin there, ever-so gently, before he’s leaning down, lips across yours in a soft press. You step forward, moving close enough to him to wrap your arms around his neck - droplets of water from the edge of the umbrella dripping onto his jacket as he kisses you.

You can hear the rushing of the traffic around you, splashing through pools of water, and the chatter of people around you, locals and tourists alike, but none of it matters. Not when there’s that low pool of butterflies churning in your stomach, and certainly not when he pulls away, tip of his nose pressed to yours as you bite your lip a little, none of it matters except him.

“So, what does next week have in store for you?” Marcus asks, sipping on his glass of wine.

“Outside of trying to hit my weekly word count, I'm going to a public lecture that professor Pike is giving at UCL on Thursday.”

Marcus is mid-sip, choking slightly on it as he swallows, covering his mouth with his napkin to try and keep whatever this is under control.

“Are you alright?” You ask, concern dripping from your voice.

“Yeah,” He says, holding up a hand, coughing a little to clear his throat, “Sorry, swallowed wrong,” There’s another pause as he sips from his water, “That sounds interesting though, what is he lecturing on?”

“He’s lecturing on counterfeit art,” You explain, knife cutting through your steak, “He used to work for the FBI and I think the lecture supplements the release of his new book.”

“I had no idea he was an ex-agent,” Marcus shrugs, “Sounds interesting though, you’ll have to give me the rundown next time we meet.”

“You could always come with me?” You offer.

He smiles and lets out a little chuckle, “What time is it?”

“It starts at 6:30.”

You watch as he chews on his food, thinking for a moment, “I might be able to make it, I’ll have to let you know how teaching goes that day, but it definitely sounds interesting,” You pick up your wine to sip at it, “But if I can’t make it, we can certainly do something next weekend, okay?”

He politely insists on going back to your place once the meal is over. Apparently not expecting this was to go so well, he hadn’t tidied and didn’t want you to think bad of him when your eyes glanced over the mess. It’s endearing to you, and you’re only more than welcome to have him over. The bed needs christening anyway.

Marcus holds you hand this time on the walk from the station. It’s dark and cold but thankfully the rain has stopped. He pulls you away from the edge of the pavement when a car threatens to splash you as it passes you, then insists that you walk on the inside so you don’t get wet. It’s those small things that make you smile, that make your tummy flutter, makes you realise he knows how to treat someone.

It makes you think about the last person who had been in his position - never getting this far, mainly due to the fact that on the second date he insisted that you made him feel stupid when you spoke about your research. You wanted to tell him that was because he was, but you held your tongue, let him pay for dinner and then told him you didn’t see things working out.

When you let the two of you into your apartment, you flick on some of the lamps instead of the big light and watch as he walks to the long windows that look out onto the garden. You’re a few floors up, looking down on the garden from a height and you can see a few people milling around, illuminated in the dark by the orange glow of the lounge lights from the ground floor.

“Nice place.” Marcus murmurs, hands in his pockets as he looks out of the window.

“Yeah, I can’t deny it,” You smile, “Do you want a drink?”

He turns to face you, “Not really.” He speaks with a smirk.

He holds out a hand, palm upright to the ceiling. You wander over to him and let your own hand slip into this, relishing the feeling of his hand closing over yours, gently dragging you towards him. The way his other arm slips around the small of your back is effortless, as is the way he pulls your entire body to his, mouth slanting over yours in a soft kiss.

It’s over too quickly for your liking, but then he’s bringing both is his hands up to your face, clutching your cheeks in his palms, “You look beautiful in this light.” He murmurs, looking at you, warm. orange glow from your lamps illuminating you perfectly.

“So do you.” You almost whisper, letting your hands grip at the edges of his jacket, smiling as he lets you push it off his body.

“What do you want?” He asks softly, “Tell me what you want, baby.”

Looking up at him, bringing your hands to the collar of his shirt, you undo the first two of his buttons, “What do you think I want?”

“I wouldn’t want to assume,” He speaks back, the zip of your jacket caught between his thumb and pointer finger, slowly dragging it down, inch-by-inch, “I want to hear it.”

You bring your hand up to cover his then, slowly pushing it down until your jacket it fully unzipped, “I want you to take my clothes off,” You say with a flutter of your eyelashes, “And then I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk straight.”

Your hand lets go of his, letting his shove your jacket off your shoulders to fall to the floor. That hand sinks down his chest until your palm runs across the front of his jeans, bulge evident as you press more firmly, biting your lip as he gasps.

“You’ve got a filthy mouth.” He groans, running his thumb over your bottom lip.

“You haven’t seen anything yet, Marcus.” You wink, slowly falling to your knees in front of him.

He tangles a hand in the hair at the back of your neck and pulls gently, making you look up at him, “You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

Marcus doesn’t protest again, just looks down at you, sitting pretty on your knees, and raises his eyebrows as if to tell you that if you want it, you can take it. Your fingers work his belt open, pull it through the loops of his trousers, before it’s added to the pile of discarded clothes so far. You work the button open, and slowly drag his zipper down, before you hook your fingers into the waistband, dragging his trousers and his underwear down to his knees in one go.

It takes all of your willpower to ignore the gentle bob of his cock right in front of your face. He’s big, probably the biggest you’ve ever seen. You wrap your hand around the base of his cock, pumping your fist slowly, as you bring your lip to every inch of skin around his cock, pressing hot, wet open-mouth kisses all along the small swell of his belly, until you can hear his laboured breathing and his hand is tightly fisted in your hair.

You pull back, finally dragging your hand all the way up the length of his cock, letting your thumb trace gently over the head, swiping the pearly bead of precum that sits there, swirling it over the head. Then, you lean forward, eyes strained to keep them locked on his own, as you press a single kiss to the weeping head of his cock, tongue darting out just a little to taste him.

“Jesus Christ,” You can hear Marcus mutter from above you, “Darling you’ve got to put me out of my misery.”

Looking into his pleading eyes, those brown orbs glossed over with wet, practically begging you to stop teasing him are too much, so you do indeed put him out of his misery. Opening your mouth, letting the head of his cock rest there just a moment, letting your tongue tease the underside of him just a little, before you wrap your lips around him and hollow out your cheeks, letting your mouth slide down his length as much as possible until he hits the back of your throat, the length you cannot fit into your mouth still has your fist working it.

His back is to the window, the streetlights and the glow from the apartment building across the garden is bathing him in an angelic light. He leans back, letting his back rest against the pristine glass as you move your mouth up and down his cock, letting him hit the back of your throat, the free hand that isn’t pumping at the rest of his length coming up to cup his balls, gently massaging them.

You can feel his hands scoop your hair up, gather it at the back of your head so he can look down and see your face as his cock disappears into the wet cavern of your mouth. It’s sloppy, there’s saliva pooling at the corners of your mouth, and when you pull off him to catch your breath, running your fist along his length, it’s soaked - line of saliva connecting him to your mouth.

“You getting it nice and wet, baby?” He asks, voice strained, “Getting it nice and wet so it slips into your pussy nice and easy?”

You’re about to put your mouth back on him when he brings one of his hands to clutch at your chin, shaking his head. He pulls you up to your feet, turns himself around so you’re the one in front of the window. His hands on your waist move you so you’re facing outward, looking at the darkness of the garden below.

Marcus reaches around your body, chin resting on your shoulder so he can see what he’s doing as he undoes each of the buttons of your shirt. He pulls it off your shoulders, discards it to be forgotten on the floor.

He trails his hands up the exposed skin of your ribcage, letting his palms rest over the cups of your bra. He squeezes gently once, then again with a tighter grip, then he’s trailing his fingers around your back to the clasp, where he manages to undo it without any trouble, letting that fall to the ground too.

You’re acutely aware that if anyone was to look up from the ground below, they would be able to see exactly what was going on, but when his warm hands come up to cup the weight of your tits in his palms, fingers rolling your nipples into stiff peaks, you can’t find it in yourself to care, you only tip your head back onto his shoulder and sigh in pleasure as his hot mouth starts sucking at the skin of your neck.

One of his hands wanders, skimming down the skin of your belly, past the waistband of your skirt and tights, until his hand is cupping your sex, hot through the cotton of your underwear. His fingers trail down, right to where your aching cunt is leaking for him, wet patch clearly evident on the material.

“Fuck me,” He groans, pushing himself into you, the hardness of his cock grinding against the material covering your ass, “You’re fucking soaked for me baby.”

You can feel him drag his hand back up, just slightly, until it’s slipping under the material this time. Finally his hand is right where you want it. You can feel his fingers slipping between your folds, inching down until they’re mixing in the pool of slick, dragging upwards until his finger finds your clit. He presses gently, circling slowly but it still makes your knees buckle. Marcus steadies you with one hand around your waist.

“Careful, baby,” He whispers into your ear, teeth nipping at the lobe, “Don’t want you to fall.”

You’d have a smart retort if his fingers hadn’t rendered you silent. You close your eyes, let yourself focus on those precise circles of his fingers, moving your hips in time to his movements. You bring an arm up, wrap it around his neck and turn your face, feeling his lips find your own, mouth open and tongue melding with yours.

Marcus lets his fingers move from your clit and you let out a whine of protest, until you feel him slip two of them straight into your cunt, as far as he can fit them, curling them gently against that spot inside you that has you falling forward, palms against the glass of the window.

You feel his spare hand grip at the hem of your skirt, shoving it up to bunch at your lower back, that hand then falling to grip your ass through the dark material of your tights. His fingers are tight against your skin, gripping you, spreading you, as his fingers continue to work inside you. He pressed just perfectly into one spot, making you cry out. You can feel the tightening in your core, feel your pussy flutter around his fingers.

“Oh baby,” He coos, “Are you going to come?” You nod your head, “Tell me,” He demands, hand moving up to tear your tights down and over your ass, “Tell me how good it feels.”

“Marcus,” You whine, moving your hips down in time to the upwards movements of his fingers into your cunt, the slick there causing a lewd squelch each time he does it, “Fuck, please, it feels so good.”

“Please?” He chuckles, dragging your body back up from it’s slouched position, “Please what?”

“Make me come.”

And so he does. He curls his fingers, sinks his teeth into your shoulder, and works your body perfectly, until you’re whining and wiggling against him. He drags his fingers from your pussy, drags them back up to your clit, circles it maybe three or four times and then he’s flinging you over the edge, tight coil snapping in your tummy, pleasure blooming everywhere as those fingers work you through every second of your climax.

You’re boneless now, pussy throbbing, sweaty skin sticking to the skin he’s got on show, as he moves you gently towards your bed. He lies you down on your back, strips you of everything else you’re still wearing, and then steps back, taking off each item of his clothing that he still has on. You watch him unwrap himself in front of you, your hand drifting between your legs, spread for him and on show. It doesn’t matter that you’re sensitive, you let your fingers dance lightly across your clit, spreading yourself open for him.

“Like a work of fucking art, baby. ” He murmurs, knees sinking into the bed as he settles between your thighs.

He swats your hand away from your cunt, leans forward to kiss you as he gently slips two of his fingers back inside your pussy. He pulls back, brings his slicked fingers to his mouth and makes a show of sucking them clean, just inches from your face.

“Taste so good baby,” He speaks, letting those two fingers find your aching hole, pressing inside once more, and you think he’s going to do it again, but this time, when he drags those fingers from you, he grips your chin, making your mouth fall ope, “Taste yourself.” He orders, watching you as your tongue slips out, inviting his fingers in.

You make just as much of a show as he did, sucking his two fingers into your mouth, tongue dipping between them to suck them clean. When he’s satisfied, he kisses you again, lets his tongue mix with yours, not just his taste now, but the taste of your cunt on his tongue too - musky but sweet.

“I want to fuck you so bad, baby.” He murmurs into your ear, settling himself into a position where you can feel his cock dragging through your wet folds.

“Please,” You beg, “I want you so badly.”

“Do you have a condom?” He asks, nose nuzzling at the delicate skin behind your ear.

“I do,” You say, “But I take the pill and I’m clean.”

He pushes back, body resting over yours, chest pressed against your tits, “You want me to fuck you bare?”

“I want you to fuck me bare, Marcus,” You whisper, hands cupping his face, “I want you to fill me up.”

“You’re something else.” He speaks softly, one of his hands reaching between you to guide his cock down, head nudging at your aching cunt.

He doesn’t say anything else, he just presses himself into you, feeding you every inch of his cock as slowly as he can manage. With every inch, your head tips back, until he’s fully inside of you, tip of his cock kissing at your cervix, but it’s not uncomfortable.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” He groans, burying his face into the crook of your neck, “You’re tight as a fucking fist baby girl.”

“So big,” Is all you manage to choke out as he starts moving, slowly dragging his cock out of you to push back in, “I’m so full.”

“That’s right baby,” He agrees, pushing himself up onto his palms that are planted on either side of your face, “So full of my cock, right?”

This position allows him a little more freedom to move his hips, which he does, dragging out of you and then pushing his cock back into you with a little more force and it makes you fucking sing. He feels so good, cock brushing at all the right spots inside you as he speeds up a little. You look down between your bodies, watching his length spear into your pussy, watching it disappear inside you with every thrust.

“I won’t…” Marcus sighs, “I’m not gonna last long baby.”

“I don’t care,” You sigh, “I wanna feel you.”

Marcus picks a rhythm - rough thrusts of his hips that have his cock hitting at the depths of you, his head dipping down to take one of your nipples into his mouth - worrying at it with his teeth and then soothing it with his tongue. You’re so close, you can feel another orgasm right there on the cusp, so close that you can feel tears forming at the corners of your eyes. When you close them, you feel a trail of tear drip down and settle in pools in your ears.

“No need to cry baby,” Marcus soothes, letting his mouth lick at the trails of tears from your eyes, “I got you, I can feel you, come for me again baby, it’s okay.”

He shifts positions slightly, dragging your legs up to rest on his shoulders, then he presses forward, folding you practically in half and then picks up his pace.

You’ve never felt like this, no-one has ever rendered you into such a wet, squealing mess before. Your nails are digging into his arms, leaving half-moon patterns there. Every punch of his cock inside you is pleasure mixed with a pang of pain. You can’t breathe, but you don’t care, because with each stroke of his cock you’re falling further and further, until you close your eyes, tip your head back and see starts as your second orgasm tears through you. You hear yourself scream for him, mouth dropped open as he loses whatever control he had before. It’s hard and it’s fast, and it’s all fucking worth it when he drops your legs and goes still.

Your name is falling from his lips like a chant, like a prayer at church as you feel his cock throb inside you, white hot cum painting every inch of the inside of you. He manages to keep his weight from collapsing onto you, pushing himself back on his knees instead, letting his cock slip from your tight heat.

You watch him as he holds your legs spread, watching his cum seep out of you. It’s performative and entirely unnecessary, but you dip a hand between your legs, use two of your fingers to spread yourself open and push lightly, letting him watch his cum pool at your hole, dripping down between the cheeks of your ass. You feel one of his fingers follow the trail, scooping it back up to press back inside your pussy, then, that fingers is slipped into your mouth.

“How do we taste baby?”

“Pretty good.”

In the moments that follow, once you’ve used the bathroom, the two of you settle under your sheets. Marcus on his back with you draped over his chest. He’s drawing shapes on your back, pressing kisses to the crown of your head as you slowly drift in and out of sleep.

When you wake, it’s still dark, the moon is high in the sky, and his face his buried between your thighs, leisurely eating at your cunt like he’s got all the time in the world. Your let your fingers tangle in his brown curls as he slowly works you up, tongue lapping at your clit softly until you’re writhing and twisting in the sheets as he makes you come for the third time that night.

He kisses you as he settles back down next to you. He turns you over so he’s pressed against your back, holds on of your legs up so he can push his cock into you again. You’re sore and spend and every muscle in your body aches, but he’s soft this time, rocking his hips into you from behind, slowly fucking you with his arms wrapped around you, both of you looking out into the darkness beyond the windows. He comes inside you for the second time that night, but neither of you make time to move. His cock slotted perfectly inside you, his cum leaking out slowly around him and down your thighs as you both fall asleep again.

In the morning, the storm has cleared and the low winter light wakes you up. The bed is empty, but still warm when you move onto your back, eyes adjusting to the light. Marcus is at the foot of the bed, doing up the last buttons on his shirt.

“I have to go.” He says simply, but with a tone that says he’d rather do nothing more than crawl back into bed with you.

“That’s okay,” You say, pushing yourself up, holding up the sheets to cover yourself, “Will you come back later?”

“Do you want me to come back later?” He asks, sitting on the side of the bed to slip his shoes on.

You shift slightly, moving so you can tuck a particularly unruly curl behind his ear, “I do.”

He turns, smiles at you, then kisses you softly, “Then yes, I’ll come back later.”

#Marcus Pike x Reader #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #Marcus Pike smut #Marcus Pike #marcus pike fanfiction #Marcus Pike fanfic #Marcus Pike fic #Pedro pascal #Marcus Pike Pedro Pascal #the mentalist #the mentalist fic #the mentalist fanfic #the mentalist fanfiction #Marcus Pike fluff #Marcus Pike au #pedro characters #pedrostories

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lucakaneshiroswife · 8 months

Text

!- RANDOM SHU YAMINO HC’S -!

Warnings: suggestive content

Genre: NSFW

Word count: 610 words 3,228 characters

Published: 4th September . 23

! Minors and Blank blogs DNI !

"How can you be this pretty...?"

Regardless the way that our darling sorcerer presents himself to be, he actually has his needs, and they are a little intense. And so, like any other person, he always makes sure to appropriately care for those needs both when you are present and when you are not.

While Shu may not be straightforward with what he wants all the time, he still does have his moments where he just cracks. Although usually he finds it easier to just simply take care of his own ‘problem’ alone, which does often lead to you happening to stumble by when he is in the process of relieving himself.

When that happens, prepare yourself because you will end up on your knees between his legs as he sits in his gaming chair, fingers tangled in your hair urging you to keep sucking him like the good girl you are <3

Shu has a very obvious fixation on your face, the way you look just drives him insane especially during these moments. You always look so pretty for him and he frankly has no idea how you manage it with your hair sticking all over your face as you sweat, your eyes glossy and lips parted from just how much he pushes your limits. He has to admit that this obsession of his is one of the reasons he would suddenly thrust up into you, watching closely for your reaction with his usual smirk looking even more attractive as he does so.

Positions that allow him a full view of your face are everything for him. If there is anything he loves more than you then it will probably have to be the way you suck him, and trust me, he isn't shy to admit that. The way your warm mouth feels around him just makes him crazy, don't even get me started on the way you look while doing it, he is addicted to it.

Shu finds so much joy when he gets to incorporate toys into your intimate moments. After all, you do need to feel good while you make him feel good, it's only fair that way. Perhaps that's the only time he'd be 'fair' with you, and even then he makes sure to overstimulate you to see how much you can handle from a mere toy, surely you won't disappoint him right?

Despite his kind-hearted nature, Shu can and will be dominant. He loves being in charge and exploring different kinks that you both have. He is more than open to experimenting, he doesn't shy away from a new experience if it's with you~

Remember the part where he is not only an amazing sorcerer but also an amazing gamer? Yeah well if you didn't then it shows with the way he uses those hands of his. His touch is electrifying, setting your body on fire, he knows just how to tease and please. Making you beg for mercy but pant for more.

While Shu may not be the most vocal person in the bedroom, when things get heated and he approaches that sweet climax he does end up breathing up your ear, whispering nothing but absolute filth varying from how criminally tight you are around him to how good you are being for him.

Shu knows the importance of aftercare, especially after putting poor little you through so much. Don't worry he will take care of you, clean you up, bring you a cup of water or even strawberry milk before you find him wrapping his arms around you, whispering words of affection and love into your ear while kissing over the marks he left on your body <3

A/N: Yes I know I haven't posted in two months but I am back and I hope to finish doing this for ALL of Luxiem while the creativity is still there. I am just as thirsty and starved as you are. NOT PROOFREAD

ART CREDITS: I couldn't find the @ at all, lmk if you know them.

#luxiem x reader #luxiem smut #shu yamino #shu yamino smut #shu yamino x reader #in this household we love shu yamino of nijisanji en's fourth wave luxiem

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fayeriess · 4 months

Text

⋆｡‧₊°♱༺ JUST A TOUCH ༻♱༉‧₊˚.

aemond targaryen x fem!reader

summary | when you ask your husband to help you dress, he uses the strings of your stay — and his fingers to his advantage.

warnings | 18+, porn without plot, breathe play/ slight choking kink, fingering, pet names, mentions of love bites/marks, not proof-read

a/n | just some smut that wouldn't leave my head no matter how hard I tried to dismiss it lol. i did some research and GRRM mentions stays a couple of times throughout the novels, even though it's not that important to the plot.

“Help me tighten my stay, dear husband?”

He should’ve known better.

Aemond Targaryen should’ve known from the mischievous glint twinkling in the depths of your irises, that you were no good for him.

But then again, he was no good for you either — maybe that’s why it was hard to leave you so soon. He’d never let the words spew past his lips so early, but he enjoyed your presence. Thoroughly. There seemed to be an invisible force wrapped around him, warping his constant state of distress, numbing it to the furthest extent — better than any expensive wine he could fill his belly with.

Here, in the confines of what small duration of privacy you had hugged by the thickness of your comforter filling his nostrils with the scent of lemongrass and citrus. He could mold you, shape you into whatever he wanted for the night, and there would be no protest from your end.

So, Aemond became prey when he cautiously moved to your position in front of your vanity, gently raising his left hand. It rested on your shoulder blade, just a couple of inches above your collarbone, his clothed chest pressed firmly against your back. From the way your breath hitched, he noticed you were in no mood for teasing; needy, starving as if you were an animal malnourished of food and attention. He’d take care of you; his little pet.

All his to nurture, to bring to the brink of pleasure, to devour as if you were the ripest of fruits, quenching his thirst with your saccharine sweetness on the most sweltering days of the summer months. It showed in the way his cock tented against the fabric of his trousers, head buried in the space under your jaw, hot, open-mouthed kisses peppered just against your pulse point.

“You look ravishing this evening, nuha raqiarzy.” my beloved.

A low hum sounded in your throat as you stared ahead, removing your earrings as his nose continued to poke around near your neck, inhaling the subtle scent of sweat and the rose petals you often bathed in.

“Thank you, my prince.” Voice faltering when his tongue licked over a particular spot on the expanse of your throat, you sighed once again, craning your neck as a means to give him better access; to take you as he always did.

“Mhm, always so submissive, aren’t you?” The flesh of his lips moves against you with such haste, that you can’t help the way your fingers twirl the material that made up the skirt of your dress, distracting yourself from fully drowning in his touch. The hand lingering at your collarbone moves painstakingly slowly, a single finger ghosting up your larynx, trailing his uneven fingernail across the flesh there.

You savor his touch. The way his lips part to suck at your chest the best he could from his angle, rubbing against you to rid the uncomfortable friction that had developed. Aemond was growing painfully hard, and there was only one way to fix it.

You.

He could live in your cunt — make more of a home in it than any other man could. Perhaps, this is what he would pride himself in for the rest of his days; pleasing you with the little time he had on this godforsaken realm was something he’d have little to no trouble finding joy in.

Having yet to hear a response from you, he kept his violet eye locked onto your figure under his chin, and he groaned lowly at the sight of your head lulled to the side on his shoulder, hands balled tightly to your side in fists, chest rising and falling rapidly. The effect he had on you was otherworldly — even more so when the same hand had circled the width of your throat, squeezing lightly.

“I need an answer from you, sweet wife.” Aemond’s tone was one of faux innocence as the corner of his lips quirked in a half-smile, the other hand trailing to your midsection, clutching at the dark blue silk.

Nodding as best you could, you opened your eyes, focusing on a crack in the ceiling, right hand gripping his clothed thigh. “Only for you.”

His grip tightened, restricting air from passing through your lungs only for a second before he removed it, satisfied with your response. “Much better.”

He darts the muscle of his tongue out between his lips, coating them in a layer of saliva. “Stand straight.”

Without hesitation, you intake the surrounding air of your chambers, adjusting your posture as his hands fiddle with the strings of your dress, looping them through each hole. “What if I kept you here all to myself today, hm?”

You smiled lazily, taking in the delighted expression painting his usual stoic features as he pressed a kiss to your temple before resuming his work. “I’m sure Helaena wouldn’t enjoy that much.”

“Mhm,” Without warning, his fingers tug at the strings, causing your ribs to ache slightly at the sudden action of your clothing restricting your ability to exhale as deeply. This was something Aemond did often.

Toy with you right before an outing, willing you to abandon your excursions for the day and spend the rest of the sun under the sheets with him, losing yourself in the depths of all the pleasures you weren’t sure were possible. Yet, to you, anything that involved his subtle touches — his caresses — was like being blessed by each of the seven themselves.

Maybe that was why you had winced, facial muscles contorting into that of discomfort before you blew a breath through your lips, sucking your stomach in as he pulled tighter.

“This is a nice little toy.” Aemond frowns slightly as he leans in closer, the fabric still pressed between his palms when the heat of his mouth touches the shell of your ear. “The way you gasp when I pull these tighter actually might be my favorite sound.”

At his words, you struggle not to moan aloud, opting to rub the fat of your thighs together, desperately trying to ease the dull throb between your legs at his husky tone.

“Do not tease, husband, please.” The utter defeat in your voice was as clear as day, mingling with the heavy tension weaving between your bodies.

He pulls at your stay once again, holding the frayed fabric as tightly as he can for one second… two …. three before letting them fall from his clammy palms.

“Lift your skirts.”

His command was one you were quick to obey, leaning down to ball the ends of your dress up to your waist, revealing all of you to his watchful eye.

The dim candlelight did nothing to dwindle the curiosity that piqued within him as he dipped his head from behind you to stare at your naval between bunches of silk fabric, unashamedly trailing his gaze down to the smoothness of your thighs — that which were littered with an array of different shades of blues, purples, and yellows.

It was a mural; his canvas that he got to decorate almost nightly in the comfort of his bed, rewarded with a gentle bask in a nice afterglow that he found himself becoming attached to.

“Such an obedient little thing.” With that, he let his right-hand slap against your thigh, gripping the flesh there tightly as you hissed between clenched teeth, pressing your backside to the tent rising in his trousers.

You could feel the need in his touch, how his thin, calloused fingers danced their way to your core before gently tugging your underwear to the side, index finger prodding at your folds almost immediately.

“And so wet for me, too.”

There was a thin sheen of saliva coating your teeth, warm as you glossed your tongue over the top row before biting down harshly on the muscle to suppress your whimper of surprise.

His finger continues to toy with your folds before he parts them, gathering up your arousal before pressing said finger into you, sighing lightly at the way you immediately clench around his digit.

He pumps it in and out of you, bending it in such a way that this time, you let out a mewl, rocking your hips into his hand as best you can. If only you could see the way his eyes darken ever so slightly, pupils blown wide as his cock throbs, a patch of wetness growing at his angry tip the longer he waits.

By the end of the night, he was sure those in the Red Keep who had the misfortune of walking by your shared chambers would discover just how much your husband had you writhing as he did now. The lewdness of your moans and the intrusion of yet another finger spitting your walls sent him into a frenzy, picking up his pace as your juices dripped down his knuckles.

It grew cold as it decorated your thighs when you’d trap his hand, only separating them when he’d use the other to dig his nails in the bone of your hip, creating light indents that’d disappear with time.

“Aemond, f-fuck.” You rode his fingers with such vigor that although his thumb pressing down to rub eagerly at your clit only intensified the feeling, it wouldn’t have been needed.

It was welcomed nonetheless, as his digits finally brought you to your high the minute they came in contact with that certain spot buried deep within you.

“Come on my fingers, sweet girl.” He cooed, watching the way your chin wobbled, how your eyes screwed shut as you shudder in his arms.

The knot in your stomach unravels, snapping abruptly, mind growing hazy when he pulls them out of you.

“I think you have somewhere to be now.”

“Damn you.”

#aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x female reader

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chvnnie · 1 year

Note

Okay: but like break-up sex with chan?

He wants children but you don't and I'm imagining just praise, tears and adoringly looks of love and pain.

me: happily opens asks

angst: exists

me: typing through tears

SMUT - MINORS DNI

The last truck left a little over an hour ago, memories tucked away in pink tubs and light brown, flimsy boxes. You’re only moving across town, there was really no reason to hire movers. But each time you touched a tub, or a box, everything returned to you. Why your stuff was packed away, the five hour “argument” last week.

Was it even an argument? Maybe it started that way. He had come home late. Mail in hand, excited to show you an announcement Changbin had sent. You smiled when you opened it, sharing in your partner’s joy.

“I can’t wait for that to be us.”

And then it crashed. Voices raised in frustration, pain. Tears flooding the tiny kitchen as you both walked in circles. Back and forth, back and forth, until your voice was raw and his eyes were on fire. It was just past four in the morning, and your back was against the fridge. Chan sat directly across from you, head rolled back against the cabinet. He’s sniffling, and you’re exhausted.

“What now?”

All things considered, it was amicable. There was no resentment on either end; both of you knew this could be possible. Though you both hoped and hoped someone would budge. Change their mind.

Neither of you did, and thus ended the most beautiful thing on the planet. The apocalypse on the horizon, each second more precious than the last. When a love like this dies, so does everything around it.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

The front door opens. Shuts. Heavy, familiar footsteps up the stairs. Turn to the right, reach for the bedroom door handle—

But the door is propped open. And inside you sit, knees to chest. Chin on knees. Tears in eyes.

“I didn’t want to leave until you got back.”

Chan nods, trying to focus his attention on anything but how drastically different the bedroom looks. Even if there aren’t any noticeable changes, he can tell the difference. There’s something missing. As if without it, there’s no life.

“Thank you.” His voice is raspy. Still heavy with tears.

You simply nod, finally looking at him. Fuck. Fuck, why would you do that? The agony is back, claws and teeth, ripping you to shreds.

At least you won’t have to watch the world implode.

“This sucks.” You bring the heel of your palms to your eyes, rubbing roughly. Don’t cry. Don’t. Do. It.

Chan huffs a laugh. “Yeah. Fucking sucks.”

“Chan, I’m so sorry—“

He waves the apology away. Out the window, as if it never existed. “You have nothing to apologize for. We can’t help our wants.”

Can’t help our wants. Like either of you want this.

You finally stand, feet hitting the hardwood floor. Though the urge to give the room once last look tugs on you, you can’t do it. You’re already barely breathing.

“Hug?”

No is never an option. Not when it comes to him, not when it comes to you. Arms open, Chan accepts your embrace, giving you a firm squeeze. You let your eyes shut, holding back every tear that wants to spill. In the car. Not here.

He cradles the back of your head, pressing a light kiss at the top. “I’m always going to be here, you know? This isn’t the end of us. It’s just…”

He doesn’t finish. He doesn’t need to.

You look up, not leaving his embrace even for a second. “I’m always going to love you, Chan.”

The first tear comes from him. “Always have loved you, and never will stop.”

What is this force? The grounds are crumbling and separating, yet they’re pulling you together. Who kisses first, was it you? Offering a final goodbye? Or him? Desperate to remember your taste?

Does it truly matter?

In the distance, there are explosions. The dusk sky lighting up with a million fireworks. Planets, stars, universes. The end of it all.

You’re certain his shirt came off first. Followed by your sweater, both in a pile by the door. It’s when your back hits the bed that things blur; firsthand accounts are never truly accurate.

How will you remember the end of the world?

Limbs tangled, tongues clashing. Chan knows just how to please you. Deep thrusts, softly pressing your sweet spot. It’s not too fast, but not too slow. The perfect way to love you.

Your knees buckle, thighs twitch. Breaking the kiss, you search your ex’s eyes. In the galaxy, there’s only one thing left. A small, golden orb. Home to you and him.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

“F-fuck.” You say breathlessly. “‘S good. S-so good.”

And he smiles. Oh, how it brightens the room even when the sky is on fire. “Yeah?”

A nod.

“Good.” He grunts as he starts to drag out his thrusts. Making it even better. “That’s what you deserve, angel.”

He’s beautiful. Perfectly sculpted face, wonderful smile, bright eyes. Otherworldly. You’re proud to say he was once yours.

“I love you.” Chan says again. Though you’ll never tire of it, it breaks your soul to hear it. Like this. “Until the end of times. I adore you, my girl.”

You sniffle. Cry. It’s okay. “B-but.”

There’s no need for more.

“You’re always mine.” His voice cracks. “My girl. Until the e-end of time.”

When your lips crash again, the rumbling is louder.

How will you remember the end of the world?

You hope like this.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #chan smut #skz angst #stray kids angst #bang chan angst #chan angst #chvnnie thots #chvnnie moots

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yuujispinkhair · 11 months

Note

cant stop thinking about sukuna treating me so good while on my period…. 🤭🤭

Awww your boyfriend Kuna will make sure you feel better ♥️

Pairing: Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff + some mentions of smut Word count: 500 Warnings: 18+, reader is menstruating, small mention of blood, period sex if you want (only as an option), making out. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

Modern boyfie!Sukuna cannot stand the thought of having no control over this thing that causes you pain and puts you through an emotional rollercoaster every damn month. He is so worried when he sees you burst into tears over the smallest things. The only tears he wants to see on you are those of joy when he says something sweet to you or brings you roses or when he has you on his cock, and the tears spill over because it feels so good. It is unacceptable that your period makes you feel so bad!

And so your boyfie Sukuna does anything he can to make you as comfortable as possible. You are his princess, so you will also get treated like one!

"Why are you getting ready for work? Come on, princess, stop doing all that shit and lie down!"

"But I have so much to do, Kuna!"

"No, you aren't going anywhere today. Fuck work! I will write an e-mail to them saying you are sick!"

You have to admit that he is pretty cute when he is so indignant. And it makes you feel so loved to see this protective side of Sukuna. You aren't immune to the warmth spreading through you when you see the unveiled worry in his maroon eyes. And those strong tattooed arms wrapping around you and hugging you to Sukuna's tall and very warm and comfy body are very convincing, too.

Of course, you stay at home. You slip out of your work clothes and put your sweatpants on again, smiling when Sukuna hands you one of his comfy hoodies.

He makes sure you take painkillers and that you rest on the bed. And Sukuna is right next to you. One of his large hands is on your tummy the whole time, rubbing soothing circles on it.

He picks your fave show to re-watch with you and brings you sweets and cooks for you. He is so caring that you can't help but fall even more in love with him. Especially when you see his boyish grin when he is like,

"See? It was a good idea to stay home and let me look after you. Sukuna 1, stupid period 0."

And then Sukuna kisses your neck, being a tease once again, running his pierced tongue slowly over your sensitive skin, licking you, kissing you, sucking on your pulse point until he has you squirming needily and your hand lands in his soft pink hair to pull him into a deep kiss.

A long makeout session with Sukuna is the perfect way to forget about your cramps. His tall, muscular body lies half on top of you, warm and comforting. And his tongue in your mouth feels so good that it makes your head spin.

And if you need more, Sukuna is very willing to give it to you. He isn't squeamish about the blood or about periods in general. If his princess feels better with his cock in her aching pussy, he will make sure to have you on his cock for hours, trying to fuck your pain away.

But whether you want sex or not, what Sukuna will definitely provide to you are cuddles. He is softer than usual, sweeter. Holds you even tighter than on other occasions, snuggling against you like the world's biggest heating pad. Your back is pressed to his chest while Sukuna's muscular tattooed arms are wrapped around you, one hand rubbing your belly and the other holding yours, making you feel warm and taken care of.

You can't stop smiling when Sukuna murmurs sweet nothings in your ear. That sexy, low voice laced with so much affection. There is still some of his usual teasing, but always followed up by a sweet "I love you, princess." Not wanting to risk another emotional outburst and instead just make you feel loved and taken care of.

I hope this could make you feel better if you are on your period atm <3<3 Kuna being so adamant about making you feel better and "win" against this menstruation thing is so funny to me aahahhaa I love him so much!!

Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments would be very sweet <3

#sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna smut #sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk smut #tw blood

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turtletaubwrites · 4 months

Text

Filthy Little Angel

This pure smut one shot can be read alone, but it would take place some time after part 18 of We've All Got Needs, linked below.

Pairings: Sanji x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1323

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Ao3 Link

Summary: Sanji requests to try a new way to worship your body. You know your boyfriend will take good care of you.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, 18+ Only, MDNI, Reader-Insert, Swearing, Smut, Established Relationship, Implied Cunnilingus, Anal Play, Rimming (Fem!Reader receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Pet Names, Shameless Smut

A/N: Here you go, I hope you enjoy it! 🤭

“I’d like to try something with you, darling.”

You were still panting, coming down from the orgasm his perfect tongue had just pulled from you.

“What… Sanji?”

He dipped his head with that knowing smile of his, the one that showed he knew what he’d just done to you, the power he had over your body. You shivered as you looked into one of his beautiful eyes, the other hidden behind his hair.

Instead of answering, he pressed soft kisses to your thighs, gently sucking until you were squirming.

He crawled to lay beside you, propped on an elbow as he kept his satisfied mouth shut.

“Okay, you’re freaking me out now,” you teased, lightly hitting his chest. Then you looked at his chest, leaving your hand there.

He chuckled, grabbing your hand to kiss it as you looked back at him.

“Just let me know if you’re not comfortable with it, love.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. You were in love with this pervert, but you wouldn’t even try to guess what he was about to ask.

He kissed your fingers again before lightly tracing his own down your body.

“You’ve blessed me with the chance to shower you with pleasure, Angel. I don’t ever want to stop.”

“Mmhm,” you hummed as his fingers sent chills across your skin.

“I’m hoping you’ll let me keep exploring ways to pleasure you.”

“Such as,” you teased, motioning with your hand for him to get on with it.

“I’d like to worship the one part of your perfect body that I have yet to taste, mon coeur.”

You brows tensed at him, thinking you knew what he meant.

“Sanji, my love, can you please tell me what you want. Pretend you aren’t a gentleman for just a minute.”

Sanji laughed, then bit his lip as he looked away. The way he looks when he laughs made you want to try to make him happy everyday.

He’s so beautiful.

He turned his gorgeous face back to yours, that joy still glinting in his eyes.

“I’d very much like to eat your ass, darling.”

Choking on laughter, you wriggled under him as he fell upon you, kissing your neck until you were breathless.

He finally pulled away, stroking your hair out of your face as he grinned down at you.

“I’ve never done that before.”

“It’s alright if you d-”

“I’ll try it.”

You loved the way Sanji’s eyes rolled back in his head when you agreed. He was always hungry for you, and his mouth was hanging open when he met your gaze again.

You’d wanted to try this before, but never had a partner you were comfortable enough with to bring it up. But Sanji was perfect. You trusted him completely. He adored every part of you, always made you feel safe.

Always made you feel fucking lost to bliss when he took care of you.

He pulled you to him, kissing you, letting his tongue explore your mouth, before guiding you into position.

Settling on the bed face down with pillows to elevate your hips, you felt very much on display. Even with Sanji, your skin started to flush with anticipation and nerves. He rubbed his warm palms along your back, leaving more soft kisses.

“You are so beautiful, mon amour. I’m going to take good care of you, you know that, right?”

Sighing, you relaxed against the bed.

“You always take care of me.”

Sanji moved behind you, still trailing fingers and lips all over you until you were practically purring for him.

He let out a satisfied hum when his fingers found your wetness, feeling you dripping down your thighs from the pleasure he’d already given you. And the anticipation of more.

“Sanji,” you moaned as he started lightly playing with your clit.

“Yes, darling,” he whispered before kissing from your lower back down to your cheeks to the tops of your thighs, leaving wet kisses on both sides.

“Why are you teasing?”

“Mm, sorry, my love. I just get so distracted when I see your gorgeous body.”

You hummed, chills running over your skin as he smoothed his hands along your ass now, massaging the skin while you tried not to squirm.

“My stunning Angel. I’m so lucky to have you, to have you trust me so much. You know I’d give my life for your pleasure, mon trésor.”

“Sanji, if you don’t hurry it up, I’m going to change my mi-.”

Sanji spread your cheeks, and lightly blew across your skin, the sensation of the air making you clench.

“I won’t keep my lady waiting another moment.”

More warm kisses inched closer, his tender hands spreading you while you tried not to squirm away.

He breathed along that untouched skin, you were about to tell him to stop teasing again when you gasped.

His skilled tongue started worshiping that tight ring of muscle, and the wet pressure of it had you twitching. Long slow strokes, then circles, and your fists were clenching the sheets as you got used to the feeling.

Rubbing his thumbs along your cheeks, he pulled back just a bit, leaving kisses on your skin.

“How does that feel, darling.”

Your moaned answer was interrupted by the sensation of his tongue returning to press in gentle circles, making your eyes roll back.

“G-good. Weird, but good.”

“Mm, and how about now?”

You cried out as his fingers found your clit again, the sensation coupled with his sinful tongue bringing filthy noises from your throat.

“Mm, I love when you make that beautiful sound, darling. Does that mean you want me to keep going?”

“Mmhmm,” you moaned softly, still overwhelmed by the new feeling. You’d never felt anything like it, it was so sensitive. You could feel yourself clenching when Sanji would pull back from you, blowing softly against the spit he’d left there.

“Fuck, your body is so perfect, Angel. I can see your muscles dancing for me, you like this, don’t you?”

“Yes…”

“My perfect, dirty girl. All the things you let me do to you.”

You arched your back as he gave you his tongue again, working his fingers on your clit as the pressure built.

“You’re so good for me. All these noises you’re making for my tongue. You’re dripping wet for my tongue in your ass, do you feel that, sweetheart.”

“Yes, Sanji, please…”

“Of course, mon amour, I’ll take good care of my dirty girl.”

Sanji’s words almost had you, and when he found your asshole again, you came so hard. His tongue kept playing with you while his skilled fingers danced over your pulsing clit.

It felt so strange, so filthy, but so fucking good.

He kissed and caressed your body as you came done, still twitching. Helping you roll over and get comfortable, he was beaming like a little kid on his birthday.

“Did you enjoy that, my love?”

“You sure did.”

You grinned at him, nodding toward his swollen cock, precum dripping down.

He leaned closer to you, looking into your face.

“I always enjoy bringing you pleasure. Please darling, let me know if that was enjoyable, we don’t have to do that again if-”

Sanji moaned as you grabbed his face and shoved your tongue into his mouth. He pulled away, panting, lifting his hand to his face.

“Angel, but-”

You crawled to kneel in front of him, wrapping your arms around his neck while you took another deep kiss from him.

He melted into you, moaning so loud into your mouth as he shivered. He pulled you against him, his talented tongue exploring your mouth now. Delicious little whimpering sounds kept leaving his throat.

Finally, gasping for air, you pulled back to look into his blown out eyes.

“I enjoyed it.”

Sanji’s eyes rolled back as he growled, before kissing and licking along your neck and teasing into your ear.

“I love my filthy little Angel.”

Thank You for Reading! 💜

TurtleTaub Fanfic Masterlist

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

A/N: I hope you liked it! I'll be post more smut one shots from the skipped month in We've All Got Needs, so let me know if you have any requests to those pairings: Sanji x Fem!Reader, Zoro x Fem!Reader, Robin x Fem!Reader, Sanji x Robin, and Sanji x Fem!Reader x Robin

Buy me a coffee ☕🙏🏼

#sanji smut #sanji x reader #One Piece smut #Reader Insert #Fem!Reader #Smut #mine #Opla smut #sanji fanfiction #sanji fanfic #x reader #turtletaub fics

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misstycloud · 11 months

Text

Unfortunate Love

Yandere childhood friend x taken GNreader

—————

Finn took a deep breath, a poor attempt to loosen his nerves. He had all reasons to be nervous, he was finally getting to see his long-time best friend after so many years. While they did speak on the phone and spent hours sending texts back and forth between their devices, it was nothing compared to the real thing. The blonde's felt his heart thump loudly against his chest, reminding him of all those moments in their youth when he was painfully in love with his friend and they had no clue.

Hah, they still don't! (Y/n), his bestie who doesn't know how they make him feel every time they speak. (Y/n) who had no idea of the lovesick gazes he would send them whenever they weren't looking. (Y/n) who was oblivious to his feelings for years, somehow never realising despite it staring them straight in the eyes. (Y/n) who remained clueless to his despair the day they announced their relationship. (Y/n) who never saw him on the floor in his room, covered with snot and ears, desperately crying for them.

Finn dubble checked his phone to make sure he was at the right address, it would be embarrassing to hype himself up only to be met with an old lady in the doorway. Geez, he knew (Y/n) would laugh their ass of if that happened and he'd rather not be ridiculed during their first reunion in so long. He smiled at the thought, god how he loved that laugh.

His friend always complained they hated it, but he found it cute and always reassured there was nothing to be ashamed of, even if they sounded like a 'dying-elephant-choking-on-its-own-trunk-while-having-a-cold-and-birthing-a-new-elephant.'

After just a few seconds after knocking on the wooden frame, the door swung open and he laid eyes on the most important person in his life.

"Oh my god, Finn!" You exclaimed in joy at the sight. "I haven't seen you like this in ages. It's great that you could come, I can't wait to show you everything I've told you about."

He giggled at your enthusiasm, it was always like this, you lifting him up and making him see the beauty in things he would otherwise pay no mind to.

You pulled Finn inside your apartment, excited to exhibit your home to him. "We've gotten a bunch of plants- to make the air in here fresh you know- and even started our own little plantation on the balcony. There are lots up on the roof, too. It's accessible to everyone in the building so we're not the only ones doing this. Oh, and there's a pool you can use! It's awesome for parties."

As the blonde man was getting sucked into your babble, one word in your speech painfully stuck out to him: We. Oh, right. He almost forgot. Your not alone living in this home.

"(Y/n), have you seen the wine? I wanted to bring it out for when- oh!" Finn looked passed you and saw a tall, handsome brunette make his way around the corner and meet eyes with him. "Why didn't you say he arrived already?" He chuckled and wrapped his arm around your waist. "Trying to make me look bad, are we?" Your boyfriend teased you.

You slapped his arm, "Of course not, just got a bit caught up in the conversation, Eric. And I put the wine in the second box in the fridge, it's behind a bunch of other stuff so it's hard to see."

"Haha, okay, was getting panicky there." Eric stepped forward to properly greet his guest. "Hey, I'm Eric as you probably already know."

"Finn." He responded dryly, but if the other man noticed, he didn't express it. Or perhaps he simply didn't care.

"It's fun to meet one of (Y/n)'s old friends, I know you two go way back." Ushering his partner's childhood friend further inside, he spoke, "I hope the trip wasn't too much of a hassle, wouldn't want this to be of any trouble for you."

Of course it wasn't any trouble, Finn wanted to snap. But he wasn't dumb enough to do that. He understood what would happen if he acted upon his feelings.

“No, there were no issues.”

The three of you sat down in the living room, pouring the liquid evenly and getting the conversation started. Finn found himself multiple times wanting to throw your partner against the wall. It was so unfair. Everything was. Why did Eric get to live with you and he didn't? He knew you way better than your own boyfriend. You two have been together since you were crawling around in diapers. What could possibly beat that?

He was there when you lost your first tooth. He was there when you first learned to ride a bike, when you got that job at the ice cream shop in the plaza, and moved out of your parents house. All the important moments in your life, he had been present. And what the hell has Eric done except watering some plants with you? It was laughable. Anyone could see he was not worthy of being your boyfriend. Finn would do anything for you and he doubted the same could be said for Mr. Gardner.

A part of him was ashamed at the unethical length he was willing to go, but on the other hand those feeling were washed away when he saw you beaming at him. It was all worth it if it was for you.

You and Eric were retelling funny stories of your time in the city while Finn was writhing in envy, glaring slightly in the other man's direction, not that you noticed of course. Dinner rolled around and you served your friend with great eagerness, you have been working on your culinary skills for a while now and it was time to see if the work had payed off. The brunette had endured as your Guinea pig and said it tasted good, but you insisted the true test was giving the food to someone else.

"How is it?"

Finn gasped for added affect, "It's amazing (Y/n)! You're a fantastic chef, this is definitely the best meal I've ever had." He praised, and your ego nearly boosted through the roof.

Your cheeks dusted a light pink. "Haha, well thanks. It's not that good, but I appreciate it."

The blonde man simply smiled in content. The truth was, the dish was in fact not that good. It wasn't bad by any means, however it wouldn't win any award. The past was cooked too long and the sauce had a burnt taste to it. Despite all these factors, it was without a doubt the best meal he ever had. Because it was something you had made for him with your own hands. Even the ingredients were ones you'd grown by yourself. (Partly with your sweetheart's help, but Finn pretended not to know.)

You really were his true love. Which is why it is so sad. He wasn't sure if he could love anyone other than you. After he found out about your relationship status the young man tried to make himself like someone else; not everything works out the way we wish them to and he was therefore forced to live with his unrequited love.

"Actually, there's another reason we wanted you to visit." You joyfully mentioned. "It's pretty important."

Your friend chewed his food and gave you a nod, signaling you to continue your speech. He wondered what is was. It appeared to be a big deal, but he assumed it wasn't anything bad judging from your happy expression, one that was mirroring the brunette's. A dreadful feeling formed in his gut. He didn't like this.

"Well," you started, coyly. "Me and Eric have been dating for a long time now, and we want to take the next step in our lives together."

No, he really didn't like where this was going.

"So, we made the decision to-" you could barely contain your smile, " get married!"

Something in him shattered. Married? You? To someone else. Fuck, he wanted to cry. But that would definitely set you off into a worrying mess, something he'd rather avoid. No, no , no, he thought. It can't be! Although he tried to contain his emotions as best he could, it appeared som e of it slipped passed the mask.

"Hey, you good man?" Eric asked.

This comment attracted your attention, "Huh, are you not feeling well, Finn?" Fretting over his condition only served to worsen the situation, reminding him of what he couldn't have.

In the end he had to excuse himself and lie that he did feel a bit sick, and that he had been for a while but thought he would be fine after a while. You were sad that he had to leave so soon and wished him well. Escorting him to the door, you said to him, "Sad you're not 100% top today."

"Ehehe, yeah...." he awkwardly scratched the back of his head. Technically it wasn't a lie, he did want to go and bury himself in a corner, though it was for other reasons entirely.

"Are you sure you don't want to spend the night here, it's no problem?" Oh how good willed you were, offering up space in your home to stop your friend from having to spend money on a hotel. Normally he'd love to spend the night, this time however, he didn't believe it to be a wise idea for any of you.

"Yeah I'm sure. I'll just get a hotel room not far away and then I'll drive back home tomorrow."

"Okay, maybe we can hangout before you go if you're better tomorrow?" You asked hopefully. "Just you and me like old days."

This made him smile. Just you and him. That sounded good. He agreed to your request and hugged you goodbye for the night. You waved to him from the window when he'd made his way outside and into his car. Watching Finn drive away, you felt a hand sneak itself around your waist.

"Think he'll be alright?" A deep voice sounded from behind you.

"Yes, it'll be all fine. Nothing a goodnight's rest can't fix." You assured. Though, something about your friend's reaction didn't sit right with you. He should be over the moon of your engagement, he seemed nothing like that. If anything, he looked...pained?

//////

Back in the car, the volume from the speakers were loud enough to burst one's eardrums. But that didn't matter the the driver. No he had a lot more to think about. The blaring music did nothing to ease the pain or distract him, which left him misrable.

Why the hell did you have to get engaged. Couldn't you have been fine as it was. Now, it was more serious than ever. In the beginning, he had actually hoped that you would eventually break up. That wouldn't happen now. Now it was legit. Legal papers and documents and everything. What was next on the list, kids?

Finn heaved a heavy breath, releasing a mix between a gurgle and sob. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he slowed the vehicle to a stop by the deserted road. The darkness kept people from seeing his sorry state; not that there were any out to begin with. Slamming his fist on the dashboard, he yelled his pain.

Why do love hurt so much?

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ponderingmoonlight · 7 months

Note

Heyyy! I wanted to say i rlly luv your fanfic and it would be great if you wrote a nanami kento one with prompt 6 🩵✨

There you go! Sorry this took me quite some, guess I'm too much of a hurt writer. But since 3 people requested prompt 6 with Nanami, I just couldn't let this one slide. Hope you like it though <3 I also added Promp 64 to this! 6. "I'm not crying. It's not worth crying." 64. "Don't be stupid, I'm not leaving you."

Beautiful mistake

Pairing: Nanami Kento x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,8k

Synopsis: You are in a secret but healthy relationship with none other than Nanami Kento despite being the sunshine to his rain. Until one day, you accidentaly spoil your secret to Gojo Satoru.

Warning: None, slight language like always

Your heart is pounding against your ribcage. The sun has just set, which means he’ll be here any second. You nervously fumble on the hem of your sundress. Do you look good? Hopefully he likes your new dress.

It’s always weird to meet outside of Jujutsu High in everyday clothes. Of course you should be used to it by now, considering that it’s been like this for two years now. Nanami and you decided it is best to keep your relationship private, far away from work. Therefore no one knows about your meetings late at night or the fact that you basically live at Nanami’s place. And this is just fine, perfect the way it is.

“There you are, sweetheart. Is this dress new? It suits you very well.”

The sound of his voice alone sends shivers down your spine, you greet your boyfriend with a wide grin and a tight hug. As usual, he smells absolutely breathtaking good. You need to finally ask him about his perfume.

“Glad you came”, you reply, face buried in his suit.

You love the fact that he’s always wearing suits, it definitely does something to you.

“You know I would never miss spending an evening with you. Here, I just couldn’t show up empty-handed.”

He hands you a gorgeous bouquet of purple, white and rose flowers, perfectly arranged and coordinated. You smile to yourself, taking in the delicious scent of lavender that now hangs in the air. Words can’t express how much you love the man standing in front of you. Even if he acts aloof and uninterested, he has a heart of gold. Suddenly you feel overwhelmed by your feelings, tears water your eyes. Unlike Nanami, you are terrible at hiding your feelings.

“I’m not going to cry”, you whisper to yourself, fanning air into your face to stop the tears from running.

“It’s not worth crying, I bring you flowers almost every time. But I’m glad you like them.”

Strange how your frequent bursts of emotion don’t bother him at all while everyone else is getting on is nerves. You truly are something special for him, the sunshine that scared away his rain, the joy that helps him to overcome his numbness. You are a gift, a true sweetheart, loved by everyone who knows you. Maybe this is the reasons why no one seems to even notice the chemistry between you two when working together as jujutsu-sorcerers. You are an absolutely poor liar, bad at hiding your feelings and the blush that creeps up your cheeks whenever you look at him. Even an untrained eye would be able to see your affection towards him – everyone expect members of Jujutsu High, as it seems.

“How was your day? Did your mission go well?”

“Oh, not at all. I’m glad you weren’t assigned to accompany me”, he signs and takes off his glasses.

Your hand gently brushes through his thick blonde hair. You can tell by one look at his tired gaze that this day was rough.

“Maybe I would have been able to help you.”

He gifts you a small but gentle smile, hands wrapped around your waist.

“Sure, but I just can’t risk you getting hurt because of helping me.”

“You know that’s also my job, right?”, you tease him.

“And you know that your job sucks, right?”

You can’t help but giggle at his response, the warm feeling in your chest keeps growing and growing. How is it that one man can make your life feel so much better just by his sheer existence? You simply cannot imagine carrying on without Nanami anymore.

“And you know that I love you, right?”

Your hands gently cup his face while your body aches to close the minimal distance between your bodies. Oh, how much you’d love to stay in this position forever, for the sun to never go down this evening. But you know all too well that tomorrow will be an exhausting day with a meeting of all higher up jujutsu-sorcerers that you and Nanami have to attend. It would be foolish to stay here any longer. But still you want to let these delicious seconds of togetherness melt on your tongue.

“Well, considering you already told me 13 times today alone, I sure hope so”, he replies before pressing his soft lips against yours.

You simply can’t believe it. The man that is holding you is the love of your life, the one you want to marry someday, the only one who has the key to your heart. Even though you are the complete opposite of him, even though no one seems to even be aware of the fact that you are in a relationship, you are absolutely mesmerized and obsessed with him.

“I hate to say it, but I think it’s better to get home. After all, we have to be up early in the morning for that stupid meeting”, he growls against your lips, face twisted in annoyance.

“How much I hate it when you’re right”, you sign while taking in his delicious scent.

“But that happens quite often. Come on, I’ll cook us dinner tonight.”

-Next day-

“There you are, golden girl!”, Gojo cries out in excitement as soon as you enter the room.

You gift him a breathtaking smile. In some way, you and Satoru are pretty similar to each other. Almost always in a good mood while wearing a bright smile on your faces along with loving a good joke and the company of other people. But unlike him, you tend to be quiet in your own way, only opening up around people you know and love.

“Nice to see you again. How have you been Gojo?”

The sincerity that glitters in your striking eyes is always a blessing for everyone around. You are so real, tender and kind in this cruel world that it’s sometimes hard to believe that you are able to survive in it.

“I’m doing better since you came here, (y/n).”

You giggle at his light-hearted comment, very aware of the fact that he’s just trying to tease you. Although you know that Gojo is very easy on women, you never felt more than sympathy for him. After all, you laid your eyes on someone else this whole time…

Oh, where’s Kento?

He told you this morning that there’s something he has to take care of, but it’s very untypically for him to show up late. Worry lines appear on your effortless features. Did you miss something? Did he maybe tell you about a meeting?

“Why do you look so worried, (y/n)?”, Gojo questions.

“I’m just wondering about Nanami-san…Normally, he’s never late”, you mumble while racking your brain.

To be honest, you’re pretty forgetful, without your boyfriend you wouldn’t even be here right now. But something important like a reason for being late wouldn’t escape you, right?

“Who knows? He never tells anyone about his private life anyway.”

Lost in thoughts, you slowly but surely fall into panic mode. Something has to be wrong. This behavior doesn’t suit him at all.

“Hey, I’m sure he’s fine, (y/n). Nanami is a tough guy”, Gojo tries to calm your tingling nerves down.

But it doesn’t work. Frantically, you swipe over your phone, desperately trying to find an excuse in one of his text messages – nothing. You try to call him multiple times only to be greeted by his mailbox.

Oh no, this is bad. This is very very bad. Something must have happened, you just know it.

“I should now if he has something to do, I mean, I’m his girlfriend after all. It’s kinda my job to know these things-“

Gojo stares at you wide eyed, mind trying to process the information that just came out of your mouth. Did you really just call Nanami your boyfriend? This can’t be true…right?

“(y/n)”, he interrupts your babbling, your innocent eyes darting at him immediately.

“Did you just call Nanami your boyfriend?”

Your heart sinks to the floor, mind going completely blank. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You were so lost in thoughts that you accidentally spoiled your secret relationship of two years to none other than Gojo Satoru.

“Gojo, please don’t freak out”, you beg.

“So it’s true? Oh god, I can’t believe it. That are some pretty fucked up new. How long?”

“How long what?”

Kento is going to hate you for this. From all the people you could have told about your secret, why on earth did it have to be Gojo Satoru? Your face goes pale just thinking about your boyfriend’s reaction.

What if…What if he doesn’t want to be with you anymore? Your thoughts are raising, eyes getting wetter and wetter the more you think about what you just did. This was your little secret, the only thing you had to do was keeping it to yourself. And you? You ruined everything by mindlessly telling Gojo about it.

“Sorry I’m late, the traffic-“

“Nanami, when did you plan on telling me about your relationship with (y/n)? You have to be kidding, right? How the hell did you pull her?”, Gojo blurts out immediately.

You are on the brink of tears, Kento's eyes darting towards you without emotion.

“None of this is of your business. Let me talk to (y/n) alone for a second, we’ll be with you soon”, he instructs the white-haired man with firm voice.

“Only if you promise that you’ll tell me every little dirty detail about this.”

“Leave. Now.”

“Urgh, what a bummer…”

You swallow hardly, your gaze glued to the floor while you try to blink away your hot tears.

“How did this happen?”, he questions, his well-polished shoes standing right in front of you.

“I-I…I was so w-worried about y-you that I panicked and…and then it j-just slipped out…”, you stutter.

“Huh, I understand.”

Your eyes dart up at him.

“Are you going to leave me now?”, you cry out, tears now running down your cheeks uncontrollably.

Kento tilts his head and steps forward, hand gently cupping your face.

“Don’t be stupid, I’m not leaving you. Sooner or later, he would have found out anyway”, he responses.

You wrap your still trembling arms around him tightly, tears soaking into his fine suit.

“I’m really sorry”, you mutter into his chest.

It’s like a massive weight falls from your heart. For the split of a second, you really thought he’ll end things with you right here and now. You simply can’t afford to lose him, Kento is your ray of sunshine on rainy days, you love him with all of your heart and more.

“Please, don’t be. I should be sorry for you worrying about me. Be prepared for Gojo’s constant teasing though. These will be hard times.”

He brushes a soft kiss against your lips, a tender smile on his face. God, how much you feel for this man. More than any words could ever express.

“We’ll get through this together”, you reply.

“Yes. Like always.”

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bulkhummus · 19 days

Note

Hey!! I’m curious, in what ways do you think wtnv sucks? I’m not necessarily disagreeing but I can’t think of anything tbh and your tag made me start wondering

Hi!

No piece of media is perfect, and expecting it to be is unfair to the creator, and unrealistic of the consumer. Being able to consciously understand the ways in which something you love also has flaws is a healthy way of engaging with the things you enjoy without succumbing to the all-or-nothing mentality of being able to enjoy, well, anything!

I love wtnv, obviously, it's about 90% of my blog, and I have listened to it for a very long time. I respect the creators (including the actors) for what they have accomplished.

However, there are a few things about wtnv that I as a listener and long-time fan have recognized as, lets call them, potential critiques. Sucks is too strong a word because I’m not focusing on specific instances where they have messed up (and they have, people make mistakes). This isn’t a list where I tell you specific things— but rather I just explain to you some thoughts I have about the show. This is, by no means, a complete or solitary list, or even an ‘accurate’ one. This is just my own opinion and you're welcome to disagree.

Consistency

I do not have the expectation of wtnv having continuity. I never once have, due to the nature of what it is, what it's about, and how it's written. I don't care if facts change. Cecil is an unreliable narrator. Timelines shatter and splinter off regularly in the show. Time doesn't work right for most of the podcast. The Cecil we listen to currently is not the same Cecil we were introduced to. Writers make mistakes when shows have been on for over a decade. etc etc etc. Instead, I use the word consistency.

The show lacks consistency in story telling. This is its strength! WTNV was a podcast made by a small group of people that skyrocketed in popularity very quickly. It was a passion project. It was a bunch of think pieces where the writers got to explore different styles of writing, different characters, and their thoughts and feelings on current events in real life. That’s what it was built on. It was recorded in a coat closet on a shitty mic and then suddenly it became a livelihood with a massive following. So, the show lacks consistency in story telling, which to me has always been the joy of it, because of its freedom to do as it pleases. A lot of ‘plot’ would happen and we’d leave on a cliffhanger, and in classic Night Vale fashion, it’d be like 4 months before you heard about it again. However.

WTNV was introduced as a serial podcast where the only consistency was that they'd upload twice a month. With the introduction of mini-arcs, and later longer arcs (such as STREX, the DOW, or UOWII) the writers introduced the expectation of continuity. The story would build over the course of several episodes and resolve in some type of way. This requires more planning and greater attention to detail than episodes that are one-off or ongoing by the nature of what the show initially was. My issue here is that they have given themselves the problem of continuity given how they write longer arcs now — but they just don’t seem to fact check or communicate with one another when it comes to these arcs that span several episodes or rely upon info from older episodes. Now, the show often feels like its fighting between what it wants to focus on, and how it focuses on it and I am left sensing this inconsistency that I once used to enjoy. Which brings me to my next point.

Understanding A World

WTNV is a show about a fictional town, told by an unreliable narrator in the form of a radio show. When the show started, I felt it understood that very well. New characters were introduced as callers, or interviews on local news, ad reads, and even Cecil playing his voicemail on air. It operates under a VAUGE set of rules (but rules nonetheless) that this was a radio show.

There have been several instances, more recently, where I feel as if the show forgets that Cecil is a radio host and the story is told through his perspective about 90% of the time. It is that exciting 10% where we gain insight to the same stories from different characters giving us new information.

For example, having Carlos and Janet go back and forth at one another in the finale of the UOWII arc completely casts aside Cecil's perspective as the narrator, and as having control over the story. Cecil hated Janet. it would have been more amusing and in character for him to have ad libbed whatever Janet said and only play Carlos' parts -- only for her to burst into his live studio outraged that he wasn't fairly reporting and THEN tell her side of the story after wrestling the mic away from him.

My issue here is that, more recently, it feels as if they forget that operating under rules, or constraints, in story telling, actually helps them be more creative in how information gets delivered to the listener.

I think how they use their patreon needs a massive overhaul too but thats a different post. Which brings me to my next point.

Hand Holding

They are good writers. They are capable of balancing humor and horror in a way that enhances both. I have felt gutted, I have felt hopeful, and I have felt absolutely feral after certain episodes because they have good ideas and can write well!

So it becomes really frustrating when they just tell me a bunch of stuff without it being reflected in the show, or they don’t trust themselves as writers. I get it. Not every episode can be their best, but there have been several instances recently, in moments where it really counts, where I am just being told what's going on instead of it going on. I’m being told why things are happening instead of listening to them happen, and often I feel they forget they are writing something to be performed. They don’t need to explain all of their metaphors or explain what the point of a characters actions are. The audience is not stupid and things don’t always need to be spelled out. Which brings me to my next point.

Writing for an Audience

All creators have to work off of in terms of how well something is doing is fan engagement, especially in a smaller project like this. However, they have an audience that varies in ages of 11-45 given how long this show has been running for. Go to a live show you will see what I mean. How do you write for an audience who is that diverse in age? Should you have to? Is it bad engagement to not think about your audience? Sometimes something a 30 year old understands, a 11 year old may not. Not for any other reason but time and lived experience. Theres things 30 year olds forget about being 11! That’s how it works.

And while this is less of a problem they may have, it’s something I noticed about the reception of different episodes by fans. The second to last live show I went to I had the enjoyment of listening to two 13/14 year olds sitting behind me offering their vastly different perspectives on some recent episodes, especially given the fact that I heard one of them say they had only just started listening after listening to the first 100 episodes summary. Which brings me to my next point.

Duration

Everything I have said previously comes back to the duration of the show. I think its impressive that its been running for over a decade with consistency. And they should! In a perfect world, WTNV would run forever because of how much I love it. I love this show and I don’t want it to end. HOWEVER. If the quality of something begins to degrade because there is not enough time dedicated to it and the creators no longer find it engaging and exciting then I’d want it to come to an end. They’re people. They want to work on new things. I respect that! And I’d be heartbroken if the show faded out or ended in a rushed manner in an unsatisfying way because they decided on a whim they don’t want to make it anymore.

I think it is a disservice to the work, effort and history of the show for them to create a 100 episode summary and tell people to start there. Idc. “But Bulk people might not want to listen to 10 years worth of podcasting—“ Babes the show is 245 episodes long. They’re like 25 min a pop not including ads. It’s a bimonthly show. Buckle up and settle down. The creators should take pride in their work, and how long the shows been on for, and be encouraging people to start from the beginning. Let people experience for the first time what many people fell in love with. Why on EARTH would you tell people to NOT start at the beginning? To me, as a long time fan, it feels like the creators don’t have faith or pride in their work.

I’m not saying they don’t dedicate time to their show of 10 years, because how could I know that, but, when they don’t fact check (because now there is the precedent of continuity, especially with newer fans, because they chose to write more serially) and they tell fans its ok to not start at episode 1, and they are advertising other projects on WTNV episodes where fans call them out for not fact checking and and and— where does that lead me as a fan? It sometimes makes me feel like they don’t care about what they’re making anymore.

I also think that this show has become a means of income for them. And it has. They have a patreon now, they do shows, they sell merch. What was once a passion project for them is now a product. People who pay for something demand a better quality— thats like almost universally true. And people who are newer fans, and don’t understand what podcasting was like a decade ago, who don’t know what WTNV was like a decade ago, don’t have that background knowledge of what the show was built up on and created as (ie. A bunch of experimentations, think pieces, and whacky one-offs as previously mentioned).

Because they’re telling fans not to listen to the first 100 episodes and focusing on more serial story telling. Am I making sense? It’s all connected and I feel like I’m making sense.

Conclusion

I love WTNV but, in my opinion, it was never meant to be what fans often demand it to be, and the creators sometimes have to respond to. What I fell in love with it for is often the things I see people criticize it for. It’s this story that sort of does what it wants, when it wants, because that’s how it started. It’s grown into something else now, which all things do over time, and I just hope they don’t grow it into something it is not if they aren’t careful. The show was is deeply unserious but also really interesting and exciting and chilling and worth the time spent, despite the ways it may be imperfect. Perfectly imperfect, if you will (wink wink).

You don’t have to agree with what I’ve said here, and maybe none of it reads true for you, because I really am just speculating and offering thoughts, and thats fine! I’d never tell someone their viewing of the show is wrong, but I do think it’s good to stop and think about your favorite pieces of media like this. Anyways thats why it sucks or whatever

#wtnv #ask tag #anon

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noirvette · 1 year

Text

main 3! gaming headcanons!!

i missed kennys birthday because of my college classes wtf happy belated bday to kenny

a little off topic for the post but ive been playing around with the idea of making a band smau (after hours by 777bambi is so good every update got me at the edge of my seat) and ive primarily been focusing on that as of late so my next few posts might just be headcanons

Stan, Kyle, and Kenny and gaming with their s/o!! cw: implied nsfw on kenny's part

♡ STAN MARSH

Thinks it's great to game together, an easy way for you guys to bond and have fun!!

He kind of likes the more nostalgic games, like super mario bros for the wii (this made me look up the game to confirm it's age and it was made in 2009 wtf??)

Let's you be player 1 but the catch is that he gets to be luigi

Stan prefers playing games on the wii (and switch) and or the ps4/ps5. He's a console kind of guy.

Prefers playing video games at your house and he'll even bring the necessary consoles over if needed just because if his dad sees you two playing he's going to whine to Stan about joining in.

Aside from nostalgic games he's also an action game multiplayer fan, lot of games he has is stylized to be fit for multiple people, so think of games like "It Takes Two" or even the multiplayer parts of Pokemon SWSH / Pokemon SV.

If you're a more single player kind of person, he definitely doesn't mind watching you play while cuddling. Would probably fall asleep watching you play.

I could see him playing Stardew Valley co-op with you if you convince him, but doesn't enjoy the whole farming thing too much

He marries Abigail in retaliation for making him play it with you. (Marry Shane and he will IMMEDIATELY divorce Abigail and beg you to marry him)

He still definitely plays multiplayer pc games with his friends, but sees no real joy in playing it by himself (think like valorant or league)

HOWEVER, if you want to play those games with him? Total tryhard but the really bad kind of tryhard.

Considering he only plays these games with Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman and doesn't play it on his own time he kinda sucks lol.

Screams "YOU'RE BAD" into his mic when he actually downs someone. Screams "WHAT THE FUCK" if he gets downed that Sharon comes in running like "Stan are you okay?!"

He gets so frustrated when he dies that he starts literally pouting. Let him get the final kill if it's just you two against one.

Insta-locks on Sage just to heal you only in game

"Sage heal? Sage heal?" -your poor other teammates

You carry him in these games tbh.

♡ KYLE BROFLOVSKI

Unlike Stan, Kyle loves games like valorant, league, etc. He gets to let out his rage easily by winning

When he loses everyone in South Park knows, he's so mad. However he rarely loses so South Park is safe.

Out of his friends he's for sure got the most amount of kills and wins.

Screams "LETS GOOOOO" when he wins LMFAO. Then gives you a victory kiss.

FPS games is Kyle's specialty. He's def an omen main or something.

If FPS isn't your thing or if you're not good at it Kyle gets it. If you're willing he'll show you how to play (and how to get good fast) however just don't play with him, if you're lagging behind (even if you're new) he's so annoyed, but never mad.

Is willing to play other games with you 100%. Also thinks it's great to game together, even if your guys' gaming genres don't match he's willing to play what you like.

Mario Kart is your guys' go to. You always win against him which leaves Kyle in shock so he often demands rematches.

Ike joins with you guys sometimes and you both initially let Ike win. Ike gets mad though because he wants you both to play equally with him, so when you play fairly he still wins because Ike is just that guy.

Kyle is more of a pc gamer than anything, but if console is up to bat he's an xbox guy. Still is a fps guy on console but it's all single player.

HATES fortnite lol. Doesn't get the hype over it at all, he thinks the mechanics are stupid and won't play it. Might if you beg him to but.. you so owe him.

Is more of the guy that prefers you to watch as he plays, however has no issue if you want to take over playing and he watches, he makes you guys snacks to have while you play.

Avid minecrafter tbh, played it mainly for Ike but then got addicted. So now he makes you play it with him too. He's definitely the "miner". Goes all out on making sure you both have the best armor and weapons. Has a shit ton of diamonds so he made you a diamond shovel for the hell of it even though it's a dumb thing to waste diamonds on. Made you a pink wool heart behind your house when you were gone.

Also an avid tile matcher (think candy crush), begs you constantly for lives. Please give him lives he gives the MEANEST puppy dog eyes.

♡ KENNY MCCORMICK

AVID HORROR GAME ENJOYER LOL

Literally any type of horror game is his go to game. Also likes those RPG horror games (think like ib, the witch's house, misao)

Sets you up by saving right before a jumpscare and then has you come over to play it with him and then you get to experience the jumpscare.

Late night horror game playing with Kenny <3 where you two just play roblox horror games all night, sometimes he puts in the comedic horror ones just so you guys can laugh at how bad it is.

He borrowed Outlast from Cartman to play on your console and you still have nightmares.

"Don't worry baby, nothing can get you when I'm here!" "What if you're NOT here though :(" and then cue him as Mysterion for the next 3 weeks to protect you.

Demands to be princess peach or rosalina in any mario game you guys play. If only one of them is an option and you take that character he will refuse to talk to you until you give up the character

Is also another minecraft enjoyer but likes scaring you with Herobrine LOL and that one scary jukebox disc.

"(Y/N)...." "What Ken?" "Herobrine is outside our door rn" (Y/N) left the game

He also likes watching you play games. Lays down with his head in your lap watching you play.

Kenny prefers multiplayer games that aren't limited to just two players only multiplayer. Only because Karen can play the game with you two then.

If you do happen to playing a two player only multiplayer game and Karen wants to join he lets her take over for him.

Kenny also loves puzzle like games (think like escape room games or keep talking and no one explodes).

Really he just loves seeing your face get all frustrated when playing these kinds of games. He rarely gets frustrated with things like these because he manages to somehow always figure it out, but doesn't say anything just to watch you get annoyed.

If you start getting really frustrated at the game and he notices, he does one of three things; he takes the controller or your phone away and turns on a new game, he actually solves it to spare your sanity, or he saves the game and helps take your mind off of the game and onto something else.

#stan marsh #stan marsh x reader #stan marsh headcanons #kyle broflovski #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle broflovski headcanons #kenny mccormick #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny mccormick headcanons #south park #south park x reader #fluff

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auspicioustidings · 4 months

Text

Taggart

Summary: Silly little festive Price x reader x Soap for @bunnyreaper

Words: 1.2k

“You're right Captain, wouldn't be professional would it?”

Gaz snorted a laugh at that. Simon's dry tone paired with the fact that the two of them were currently very much wrapped up in one another was making Price look like he was sucking lemon slices.

Honestly he felt bad for his Captain. Soap and you were up excitedly flipping through the karaoke book and were even more casually affectionate than usual with the alcohol flowing which in turn was clearly driving Price mad. It probably didn't help that the dive bar that you all frequented was so endearingly decorated for the season, the twinkling multicoloured lights giving everything a whimsy feel to it that so suited how you and Soap always were together.

Honestly him and Simon would lay in bed at night and gossip away about this whole thing like a pair of old dears. You, Soap and the Captain were so stupidly in love with one another and all of you were so steadfastly ignoring it. It had been funny at first, but after a year of this it was now just getting frustrating to watch.

“Oh sod off, you two aren't the same” Price grumbled into his whiskey, eyes never leaving you and Soap.

“I mean if you want to promote me up to Lieutenant then maybe that would be true and if I really have to take a promotion to help you out I suppose I could.”

“Cheeky git.”

“Just taking the piss Captain.”

“Doesn't make him less right. If you're fine with me ruining a Sergeant for anyone else why can't you?”

“Simon you say the most romantic things.”

“I'm a regular casanova.”

Price watched as Soap handed you a microphone with a flourish after hugging you and you both stumbled to the stage, faces flush with the effects of mulled wine and excitement. Goddamnit the two of you were going to be the end of him. He had been fine (so he tells himself) when it was only his wildly inappropriate feelings for John MacTavish he had to contend with. Then a year ago he gets told about some little firestarter medic that was facing a severe disciplinary for disobeying direct orders and assaulting a superior officer. You had refused to leave a man behind and then punched your CO and really he should have known then he was going to fall ass over teakettle for you. You were so like MacTavish in so many ways, and my God did the two of you bring out the best in one another.

He had watched with unbridled pride as you earned a promotion within 6 months of working with them. Overdue really, you should have made Sergeant well before then but you had the same problem that was common with the 141; a stunning lack of respect for those who did nothing to earn it but wear a set of stripes.

And fuck, it was an absolute joy watching Soap take you under his wing. John always knew he was meant for big things, but watching him be able to teach you made him feel like tearing up. While you teased one another and got into mischief all the time, he also saw how gentle Johnny was with you. He saw the way he looked at you when your eyes were elsewhere, so much adoration that it made his heart hurt.

Yes, you two were practically made for one another. He was just made to sit and nurse his whisky on the sidelines, cheering you on even if it made his heart break.

–

“Ye should replace it with… uh… yer maw watches Taggart!”

“But you watch Taggart!”

“Aye because it's a pure fandabbydozy show.”

Honestly made sense to you. Well, it made sense when you had tried several of the wonderful Christmas themed cocktails. Fairytale of New York karaoke was your stunning idea, but you were trying to avoid shout singing the word faggot at the top of your lungs and thus you would instead be viciously disparaging Johnny by suggesting his mother watched a detective show. Savage really. You nodded vigorously and Johnny smooshed your cheeks.

“Yer so cute wee yin, ma wee baby bunny” he cooed.

You did try to blow a raspberry at him but the smooshing really fucked up your attempt. Oh you wished John was here too, he always sighed and bonked you both on the head when you'd get into childish little exchanges like this. You frowned, suddenly sad about being too scared to drag him up with you.

Johnny was easy to pull into stupid things like this, but with John it felt trickier. It wasn't like rank seemed to matter much out of the field in this team, Kyle and Simon were proof enough of that, but deep down you knew that wasn't what made you nervous about it. It was that you had stupidly fallen in love with more than one man. And even worse, you were fairly sure that they were in love with one another. The thought of them pitying you for your crushes horrified you something awful, but you just could not keep yourself away from them.

“Yer sad” Johnny said, seemingly devastated by the prospect. “Dinnae be sad bonnie, cannae stand it when yer sad.”

God he really couldn't. Not that he was ever really able to say it out loud sober. Fuck he was so irrevocably in love with two of his team mates, what a place to find himself.

“OK, gonna sing out my sadness” you said, going a little overboard on the gloomy dramatics.

“Och that’s a pure sin, c’mere my wee darlin’” he replied as he wrapped you up in his arms and squeezed until you couldn’t breathe and were smacking him to let go.

Time to bury your feelings and give the best performance of your life.

–

“Jesus, they’re terrible.”

Kyle looked at Simon and Simon looked at Kyle before they both looked back at Price. He wasn’t wrong, you were God awful, but he was still staring like you and Johnny had hung the stars in the sky nonetheless. It was awfully cute. He was too distracted to even notice that there were eyes everywhere flitting between him and the stage, after all most of the regulars and all of the staff were very much involved in the betting pool on how this was eventually going to play out and maybe tonight would be the night.

They all watched with delighted anticipation as Price eventually downed his whisky just before the end of the song and stood, making a beeline for the stage.

“Oh! Don’t remember that being part of the song” Kyle said with a choked laugh as Price very much lost all composure and thoroughly crossed rank lines.

Simon tilted his head in amusement and gave a low whistle.

“Suppose we should stop them before they commit a public indecency felony on stage.”

They didn’t have to in the end, the riotous cheering of everyone in the place distracted the three of you for long enough to realise you were very much in public. Surprising nobody, you decided to leave early and turn in for the night. It was not lost on Simon or Kyle that you all went to the same bedroom.

#mhairiwrites #cod #price x reader x soap #john price #john mactavish

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