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b1rds3ye · 9 months

Note

Can you make a fic / short headcanon of how the COD men reacts to reader riding those bull mechanical? Their usual bar/pub has installed a new attraction which is that bull mechanical. Either they dared reader or reader wanted to try to ride, depends on the character. You know how those bulls move makes the rider look like they’re grinding?? Yeah I wanna know how the guys reacts to that 👀

OHOHOHOHO GOT IT thank you for sending in the request!! This is the first one this blog has gotten 🥳🥳 I hope you enjoy~

Ride On

The local bar has installed a mechanical bull for an extra activity among the drunk and whimsical. One day off duty, you decide to give it a go and have some fun, and it seems the boys are enjoying it just as much as you.

Characters: Captain John Price, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, König

GN!Reader w/ no physical descriptions (except you're shorter than König)

Word Count: 2.5k (~500 each)

Genre: Fluff, Spice, established relationship

Warning: Spicy (but no smut), 18+/MDNI, awkward dialogue (it’s the cutest thing during flirty time fight me)

A/N: I don’t even write stuff that’s mildly spicy so I hope I did a decent job - also apparently mechanical bulls can do some real damage oh my god???

Captain John Price

On duty Price may be your direct superior but off duty you were more than free to do as you please even in his presence, he had always been clear about that. So he knew you were up to something when you sauntered up to him asking him for permission to go on the mechanical bull in the middle of the bar

He could only stare at your deceptively innocent smile for a moment before repeating the mantra that you could do what you want, his free hand automatically reaching into his pocket for a smoke as you strutted to the mechanical bull. You were going to be the death of him

He’s sure this is what emperors felt like in the days of old. Food, drinks, some very enticing entertainment and Price feels like he’s on cloud nine. Sitting by a table, he lounges back, thighs spread as he takes up the entire space of his seat and then some, feeling like a king as he watches you on the mechanical bull. He does not move, save for the occasional shift as his pants tighten

When you’re done riling him up, Price stays put as you approach him again. He can’t hide the incredible smugness he feels when the hungry eyes of strangers trail you, only to look at him in envy when they realise you’re already taken. He isn’t bothered by any of their stares, he can easily give any of them a piece of his mind

“You’ve got guts, love,” Price huffed out a puff of smoke. He remained seated by his table while you stood beside him, his face directly in line with your torso. His gaze travelled along every line and curve of your body that was so tantalisingly close, he could feel the body heat emanating from you. He stifled the urge to lick his drying lips.

“I did a good job though, right?” You beamed. He quirked an eyebrow at your sickeningly sweet voice. So you were going to keep up this charade, as if your face was only flushed from the physical exhaustion of remaining upright on the automaton and not from being so close but so painfully far away from him. Even in the darkness, he could see how your pupils swallowed your irises but he chose not to comment on it - he wasn’t faring any better.

“Passable. You’ve got two choices, sergeant.”

You swallowed, a shiver travelling down your spine as Price tilted his head down, idly extinguishing his cigar against the ashtray.

“Either you go back on the bull for some further training, give everyone here a sight for their sore, miserable eyes…”

Price regards you again, head up so that you could finally see his full face. Like a man lost for days in the desert, he gazed at you as if you were an oasis. Eyes lit up in awe, full of reverence, yet glazed over in carnal hunger.

“Or we leave this pub and you give me a private encore.”

Simon “Ghost” Riley

The instant he saw the new attraction he instinctively groaned under his breath. He already knew that you, Soap and Gaz will be provoking each other for some sort of competition. He’ll interfere if anyone seems uncomfortable but if it’s all smiles and laughs he’ll just quietly watch on with a mirth in his eyes reserved only for you and the task force (he will make a quip about you lot behaving like muppets though)

That being said, he already knows how suggestive a mechanical bull can look. When it’s decided that you’ll give it a go, Simon can only exhale slowly out of his mask, mentally preparing for an unexpected trial of restraint

He slinks back into the darkness of the bar, one with the shadows. His eyes shine like jewels as they reflect the treasure that is you. He drinks in the sight, committing it to memory. If from the bull you manage to see him in the gloom, his gaze is so intense it can single-handedly throw you off the automaton

Even off duty, he’s good at keeping his composure. When you return to him, you almost mistook him for being completely unfazed by your little stunt on the bull. But his voice is a little gruffer, the muscles in his throat straining with every syllable. He shows his neediness through his presence, you won’t be alone for the rest of the night as he accompanies you for even the smallest of errands

Rubbing your shoulder that was bruised from falling off of the bull, you beelined for the rest of the task force, only to get unexpectedly pulled towards the corners of the bar where the lights could not reach.

“Simon?” Your voice is barely above a whisper as you feel his hand splayed across your spine. He was never big on public displays of affection, he was possessive in that all of his love will be seen by you only. Daring a move like this has you turning to him in concern, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable in the slightest.

“We’ve got a problem.”

“And that is?”

Simon doesn’t reply, not verbally. He takes your hips in his hands, you can tell he’s trying his best to be gentle but his fingertips dig ever so slightly into your skin. Guiding you back to stand just in front of him, you grunted as you felt a hefty weight against your backside. Now that is a big problem indeed.

“Need you,” he rasps, voice so thick with air they were barely discernible words. You allowed him to pull you further against him, a guttural groan escaping him. “Fuck, didn’t know you could ride like that.”

“I’m a soldier of many talents,” you replied. He huffs against his face mask, digging his face into the crook of your neck. “I suppose I could go again. Just, not on the bull.”

Simon’s lips curved into a smile that warped the mask against your skin. His hands on your hips tighten, you won’t be escaping him anytime soon.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

When Johnny’s eyes settled on the mechanical bull, he then took a brief glance at you and his mind went places. This absolute menace is conjuring up a million and one ways to get you on that bull ASAP (with your wholehearted consent, of course)

He’ll do anything, making a dare, teasing you, trying to make a bet, just so he can see you mount that thing. He’s a dedicated man, once he has a goal he’s seeing it through, no matter how many playful slaps and lighthearted glares you give him. He’ll even set an example and go first - he’ll be flattered as hell if he can get you out of all people riled up

Johnny thinks he can handle it, but he’s always overestimating himself when it comes to you. He can’t play off how you’re bothering him as your hips slide forward and back against the saddle. He can only clear his throat uncomfortably and choke out a fake laugh when the rest of the 141 comment on how quiet he’s become

He bit off more than he can chew, he thought he was the smooth one for being blessed with such a sight but he’s finding himself more bewitched by you by the second. When you get off the bull he gives you a feeble punch on the shoulder, trying to act like he’s alright but really he’s completely at your mercy, hovering around you near begging you to give him attention

You didn’t even have time to greet him as Johnny pulled you away from the rest of the task force, down into a quiet corridor of the pub. His silence was unnerving, you asked him if something was wrong but his only response was his lips against yours. When you reciprocated, the Johnny you knew was back with you, smiling into the kiss with an exhale of eagerness into your mouth as he traps you against the wall with his body. His weight against you, it was already hard to get a breath in as he claimed your lips again and again and again. But what truly made you gasp was the hardness that brushed against your thigh. It was initially so brief, you could credit it as a phantom of your own lust, but as Johnny got bolder, it rested permanently against your upper leg.

Now that he made his predicament clear, he reluctantly pulled away from you, just enough for him to speak. His heaving breaths burned against your skin, no more than his azure eyes that bored into yours.

“I got another thing you can ride, aye?”

You burst into laughter as you gave him a playful shove on the chest. It did nothing push him off of you, his smile widening at your countenance.

“Johnny, that was awful.”

“I ain’t lyin’. My li'l MacTavish needs some help.”

“I swear to god I’m leaving you.”

“You know you love me. Now are you gonna help me or no?”

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Kyle has a playful streak, when he sees you eyeing the new attraction he’ll approach you with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he slides some cash to you. “This twenty says you won’t last five seconds on that.”

And with that, a light-hearted competition started. Kyle’s intentions were genuinely innocent, he just wanted to have some fun beyond drinking the night away. After you gave the bull a go he was wholly planning to try after you to show you how it’s done - and possibly impress you with superior balancing powers

It started off fun as you laughed at the odd movements of the bull under you and Kyle smiled with you. He’s willing to give up that twenty as you were clearly having fun

What he did not expect was how as the mechanical bull became more erratic, bucking indiscriminately in all directions that the sight seemed more… suggestive. A yelp of surprise from you has him situating himself behind a table, ensuring no one can see the growing issue below his hips

He dares a look at the rest of the task force who are taking in the sight innocently. Soap is shouting encouragements like a battle cry, Price pulls a face that’s a mix of amused and impressed, Ghost offers a single dip of the head in respect and now Kyle feels dirty, guilt mixing with arousal into a sinful concoction that drips down his tightening pants

As you returned back to the task force, Kyle immediately came up behind you. His arms wrapped around your waist, he sat his head on your shoulder, cheek against yours. With his entire body smothering yours, his whole being moved with every inhale and exhale of yours as you tried to recollect yourself after that exhausting ordeal of the mechanical bull.

“Getting touchy’s not going to make me forget about that twenty, Kyle,” you chided with a smile. You hear a little hmph as one of his hands dip into your pocket, resting over your hip bone. He slips the note in but his hand stays there, his thumb tracing over the wrinkles in your pants.

“You looked real nice up there, you know,” he mumbled into your ear before giving it a peck, arms tightening around you possessively.

“Feels like you enjoyed it,” you whispered, voice disappearing as you noticed something firm pressing against your ass. Your laugh came out far too weak. “Is that a pistol or are you happy to see me?”

He chuckled, husky and restrained, too distracted to reply. His hand in your pocket was becoming more animated, rubbing at your skin. Even through the fabric, you can feel how hot he is, only getting warmer as he gets more antsy, his free hand now tugging and teasing at your shirt.

Kyle spares a look at the rest of the task force, clearly distracted with their own drinking and antics.

“Do you think they’ll notice if we leave?”

“... No, let’s go.”

König

König will never ask you to go on the mechanical bull because he’d never go on it himself. Putting on a show for a whole lot of strangers in a pub? Potentially embarrassing himself in front of said strangers, his allies and you? The thought already fills him with dread and he is empathetic to never ask for such a thing from you. That being said, when it’s established you’re more than happy to give the bull a go, he’s not going to stop you

He knew how suggestive a mechanical bull can look but he figured he could handle it; he did not reach the rank of colonel by giving in to every temptation. But he should have known better when it came to you, your mere existence making him feel like he lost all composure and combat experience

Upon noticing the lustful stares of others, König doubles as a bodyguard. He slowly stalks around the bar, using his hulking figure to strategically block the view of you for others. He also takes note of anyone who seems a little too fixated on you, not hesitating to send a glare their way

Once you lose to the bull, he waits by the edge of the ring, taking your hand to escort you back to your friends. He does it both to be a caring partner for you, but also he’s preening as onlookers visibly deflate upon realising that if they want to get to you, they have to go through him

König’s hand was tight around yours, you could feel it occasionally twitch, aware of his own strength and trying to loosen his hold on you.

“Entschuldigung, mein Schatz,” he grumbled. “You wanted the night here, but I must leave.”

“Why?”

König turned his head away in embarrassment, but you noticed his eyes dipped lower for a split second. When you followed his gaze, you took a moment to pride yourself for getting your partner so riled up. It was only broken when he gently took your chin with his free hand, tilting it up - or just anywhere away from his growing predicament.

“It is embarrassing,” he muttered. “You were just having fun, but I am here… needing.”

“Not at all,” you smirked. “I wanted you to notice me.”

“I am always watching you, Schatz,” König whispered. He was getting bolder - or perhaps more desperate - with every word, the hand on your chin moving down to settle on one of your hips. You tilted your hips into his grip and the consequent breath he emitted was forceful and ragged. “I did not think such a machine could be so… crude.”

“But you liked the sight, right?” Your voice was smug as you pulled his face down to be in line with yours. You now had a perfect view of his eyes that were alight with lust, pupils blown so wide you could not distinguish if it was the gaze of a predator or prey.

“Zu viel.”

Call of Duty Masterlist

#cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x you #task force 141 x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #könig x reader #könig x you #/*avery actually writes*/#/*avery checks the mailbox*/

6K notes · View notes

peachesofteal · 4 months

Text

The Pit

COD masterlist Part 1/2

Ghost/Soap/female reader 6.3k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI, dub con, kidnapping, manipulative hurt/comfort, whump, the guys shave you, humiliation, forced orgasm, predator/prey, medical inaccuracies. Clothed males/naked female. The Pit by Silversun Pickups. Horror-ish. Misery inspired.

Winter in the mountains can be cruel.

This is something you’ve always known, even as a child. You were raised with it. Chose to return to it after school, decided to make a go of it, of a life here, as an adult. You knew what you were getting yourself into, long cold winters that felt both bleak and promising, unblemished blankets of snow possessing the ability to be stunning, while also lethal. Winters were dangerous, silent killers that left corpses in their wake and no amount of lupine or paintbrushes, glacier fed lakes or springtime moose calves could make up for the hell that winter wrought. Winter brings most living things to the knife’s edge of survival, forcing most to bow beneath the weight of its fury, backs breaking with the burden of just existing in an environment that truly acts, and feels, inhospitable.

Although, there are those who do more than survive the cold, violent stretch of winter.

There are predators who thrive.

“You closin’?” Your coworker, the new one, asks from where she’s settled across the dark wood bar, two amber Budweiser bottles empty in front her idle hands, eyes wandering to guys posted up by the loneliest pool table in fifty square miles.

“I am.” She casts the only window in the entire place a surreptitious glance, fingers peeling away at a label. It’s snowing, has been for hours, flakes fat and wet, fluffy enough that the density of the snow on the ground is light, but dangerous, as it hides the real risk underneath; packed snow sitting with a slick sheen of ice on top.

“You still trying to make it over Fall River pass tonight?” You nod.

“Yeah. Supposed to see my brother and his new place this weekend.”

“Fall River? Is that even open right now?” Andy, a regular who lives a few streets over from you, chimes in, twisting an empty rocks glass in his fist. You pull the bottle of Jameson from the rail and tip it vertical, honey brown liquid sloshing like a wave until his glass is halfway full, and he gives you a flirty kind of smile, the same one he’s been giving you for a year now. Yeeesh.

“It is. I could go around, but it just takes too long. And it’s Friday. I’m not trying to be stuck on the highway with weekend traffic.” You complain, and they both commiserate your opinion. The traffic is brutal, especially in the winter. Driving in hazardous conditions is considered to be a talent more than an innate ability here, and people often overestimate their aptitude for it, causing crashes and delays that get the highway shut down for hours, or even days, at times. You shrug. “I’ve had my snow tires on for weeks. Might as well get some use out of them.” Andy snorts.

“Like you haven’t been gettin’ good use out of them? First real snow was before Halloween this year.” You nod. He’s not wrong. You did get dumped on two weeks before the end of October, twenty-three inches piling up within two days, before half the area was even ready for it. You throw him a polite smile, one that you hope reads like ‘okay thanks for the concern, we’re done now’ and he sighs. “Well, drive safe.”

Fall River pass, it turns out, is not open. It’s closed by the time you split off from the interstate and start the windy, switch-backed trek in your jeep, flashing orange and yellow lights dotting the top of a barricade just barely visible through the speckled snow flying by in your headlights.

Fuck. You could have sworn the DOT website said it was open. You take a deep breath, quelling the anxiety that roils your stomach. Okay. Not the end of the world. There’s another road. A less maintained option, but… you’ll be fine. You’ve driven in worse.

The other road, a sharp, narrow, desolate path that cuts through a large swath of unmanaged forest just outside the national park, is easy at first. You’ve been driving the same jeep for years, a 2007 two door Wrangler, and you know how it handles like the back of your hand. With snow tires, it could pretty much cut through anything, even unplowed, fire watch roads like this one.

Which is why, after the first few miles, your nerves fully settle, and you allow yourself to relax a little bit behind the wheel, easing the jeep across the dips and slicks in the road as you cautiously build speed, snow falling fast through night, growing thicker the higher you travel into wilderness territory, and the farther you left modern civilization behind.

An hour creeps by, and then two. Long enough that you’ve now realized you’re the only one using this road, fresh snow blanketing the woods around you, topography and vegetation starting to change as you encroach on what you assume must be eleven thousand feet. You’ve seen this road on google maps once, or twice maybe, having noted it for future travel just in case of a situation like this. It runs perpendicular to Fall River, and eventually meets another, one that must be similar, on the other side of the range. The secondary road is one that takes you along the ridge, and then down, you’re pretty sure, although you can’t be one hundred percent certain, because you lost cell reception before you even turned off from Fall River.

Still, won’t hurt to check and see if you have this area downloaded.

You pull your phone from the center console, thumbing at the screen, allowing your eyes to linger too long without looking back up through the windshield. No one else is out here. It’s not like you need to worry about oncoming traffic. The little SOS insignia blinks at the top corner, and you tap on the map icon, hoping it will bring up your geo location so you can glance at the satellite image of the area.

You’re so fixated watching the little circle of death try to load, that by the time you look up and see the tree laying across the road, it’s far too late. You do the first thing you were always taught not to do in winter conditions, and slam on the brake, shoving the pedal to floor, heart rate sky rocketing as you panic and lose total control of the jeep. You spin, shoulders and chest jamming against the seatbelt, headlights flashing off into the woods, illuminating an endlessly dark web of trees, bark and branch scratching across the paint as you careen off the road, tipping too precariously onto two wheels and then rolling.

Time, your life, stands completely still for a moment. You see every individual fiber of the pine needles, every uniquely designed snowflake, every single droplet of blood that floats away from your face and through midair as you crash through the forest, your grasp on consciousness slipping farther and farther away, the jeep finally coming to a stop on its side, your head cracked against the driver’s window, stars and streaks spawning out across your vision, headlights finally blinking out completely, leaving you alone in the dark. Your head spins like you’re still rolling, and the only sound in the dead silent snow is your harsh breathing, frantic terror bubbling up through your throat as pain surges through your body.

It's freezing, but you feel surprisingly warm.

You’re going to die out here. No one knows you took this road, you don’t have service, by the time they find you, it’ll be too late. You’ll be a bled out, frozen corpse, long gone and-

You lose your train of thought quickly. Everything starts to fracture, fissures forming in your consciousness, part of you already losing the battle to the inevitable, darkness pulling over your eyes like a knit hat, lungs heaving just a little harder with each breath.

You could just close your eyes. Just for a moment.

Light sweeps across the ground, flashing across your face. You think, if you were truly with it, in your right mind, you’d think it was too bright. You’d say it was blinding.

But you can’t formulate anything of the sort, mind too busy slipping away, falling into an inky black depth, just barely on the verge when you feel a gloved hand on your skin, the lilt of an accent on the wind.

Sleep.

You’re drifting. Falling through a stardusted, molasses filled haze, your mind ebbs and flows with consciousness; soft and warm feelings contrasted with sharp pain that bites through your body as if it’s slowly trying to eat you, chipping away piece by piece.

There are words, voices. There are hands too, fingers walking across your skin, limbs being moved, arranged, always with pain that’s followed by a hushed whisper of apology, a confusing sentiment in the dark. Your eyes won’t open. Your mouth won’t work. Your head is stuffed with cotton, wispy strands of connections that can’t quite get there, scrounging along the walls of your skull, trying to meet in the middle. You’re drowning, sinking to the bottom of a macabre pool, the one that’s infected your synapses and kept you just inside the shelter of delirium.

You try to call for help, but you can’t.

You try to swim to the surface, but the grisly black of your mind is never ending.

You’re dying, the tiny sliver of rational thought assures. Or you’re already dead.

Despair swells, and if you could feel your face, you’d think you were crying, lost to the sweeping desolation of your pain. It steals your breathe. Your sense. Everything becomes secondary to the obliterating agony that you feel.

Something touches your cheek. Your eyes fight to open, straining against the heaviness that weighs on them, just barely blinking wide enough to let some light in, your vision fuzzily trying to focus.

Wood beams come into view. A ceiling? Where-

You try to turn your head but an electric shock rattles through your brain, forcing you to slam your eyes shut again, world spinning on an uneven axis as something on the edge of your sight shifts. A monster. A man?

Something is said, whispered, and then everything fades away, your mind and body slipping beneath the waves of darkness.

The next time you surface, you manage to cling to consciousness long enough to take stock of your surroundings, realizing you’re tucked into a soft, warm bed almost immediately, something hot near your feet, pillows fluffed beneath you. A hand stitched quilt is spread across the top of copious other blankets and sheets, and your fingertips scratch against the fabric. Flannel.

You’re also awake long enough to truly experience the pain you’re in.

One thousand tiny knives rattle around in your skull, slicing into the soft matter of your brain, tearing you apart piece by piece, everything in you unmoored and off balance. Searing pain radiates up your leg, through your arm and wrist to your head and neck, and when your instinct urges you to try to move, your body screams in protest, the pain so intense that you cry out.

That’s when you see him.

A man steps towards you from the edge of your peripheral, and you freeze in terror.

“Shhh. We’re not goin’ hurt ye. Ye had a terrible accident. Pure luck we found ye when we did, dove. Ye would’ve died out there.” He coos in an accent, inching closer, and you manage to get a better look at him, recognition failing immediately. An accident? An accident… memories come flooding back, broken clips of the jeep spinning, rolling, the woods, the fear. Who is he? Where are you? Brilliant blue eyes look down at you with concern, handsome face tweaked into worry, furrow in his brow partially covered by the long strands of an overgrown mohawk. He’s pretty. “Can ye follow my finger?” He presents one in front of your nose, but it splits into two, and then three, just the attempt to focus enough to make your head throb, and a whimper escapes from your throat. “I know, I know.” There’s a ceramic mug in his hand, and he carefully lifts it to your lips, encouraging you as he tips it back, warm, sweet liquid washing down your throat. You can’t even move your arms to push him away, and when he seems to be satisfied, his thumb wipes the corner of your mouth. “Good love. Well done.” You feel woozy all of the sudden, maybe even a little nauseous, and you think you could be hallucinating when another man appears at the foot of the bed, handsome, but in a rugged way, watching you with honeyed brown eyes, the broadest, biggest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Those bones need setting.” He says, and the pretty one grimaces, fingertips trailing along your cheek.

“Maybe tomorrow. I’m still worried about the concussion.” His thumb cards across your brow.

“It’s been three days, Johnny. Can’t put it off too much longer.” Three days? Your brain latches onto the time. Three days of what? Since when? You’re starting to fade, trying to focus on what they’re saying but losing the battle horrendously when the blankets shift, warmth tucking down around your waist and shoulders, unable to react or even speak when they both press a kiss to your forehead, affectionate and longing touch that startles you until you’re losing the battle to sleep.

It's snowing.

You don’t have to see to know. There’s something about how it hangs in the air, how the world sounds during a snowfall that blankets everything: houses, trees, mountains… your mind.

You love the snow. Even as a child, winter was your favorite. Winter brought you a sense of calm, of peace. It’s what brought you back here, kept you here, even amidst the perils. The feeling of a forest, lying still beneath the soft spun expanse of white, the crisp smell of the air the morning of a big snow, the eternal quiet that exists in the night when everything is dampened by the weight of a million, billion, uniquely crystalized webs of frozen water.

This snow feels different. It doesn’t feel like a velvety white, candy-coated dream world; but a nightmare… one filled with pain, anxiety. Where are you? What’s happened?

And why do you hurt so fucking bad?

“You’re awake.” A deep voice says from your side, and you flinch on instinct, immediately wishing you hadn’t as lightning sharp pain zings through you, your voice breaking with a cry. “Easy.” He cautions, and your head stops swimming long enough for you to realize it’s the brown eyed man, the bigger one. He’s sitting in a chair that looks far too small for his width, watching you with an intensity that makes you feel exposed.

“Where… am I?” You manage to choke out through stiff lips, your head spinning and the world tilting at the same time. It sours your stomach, more than you thought possible, and you try to swallow the burn of bile that’s racing up your throat.

“Are you going to be sick?” He strokes your face, the touch nearly sweet, but confusing, and you hold your tongue, unsure. He sighs, expression shifting into disapproval, and then a frown. “Tell me.”

“N-no, I don’t-“ You can’t even finish your denial before your stomach is heaving and he’s springing into action, shifting you onto your side where a clean bucket sits right next to the bed. You wail in misery, pain shooting through your leg and arm, your ribs, bile and spit leaking from your mouth.

“It’s alright, that’s it.” A hand soothes up and down your back as you dry heave, sputtering on nothing, tears dripping to the wooden floorboards with a splash.

“Nnrgh-“

“I know, I know. Poor thing.” He coos, and it sounds… endearing, so sweet yet… frightening, like the poison of a predatory, a pretty display meant to draw you in before it snaps a set of jaws shut around your face.

Somewhere, nestled inside the last shards of your sanity, an alarm bell whistles, but the intensity of your pain quickly drowns it out, and you cry aloud.

“Hurts.” He rolls you back to your original position, arranging you like a doll. “It hurts.”

“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. We’re going to fix it.” A cloth dabs at your forehead and then down to clean your mouth, just as the man with the mohawk appears on the bed, one knee down, leaning over you, worry rife in his features.

“Poor baby. Were ye sick again?” Again? You blink up at him. What is going on? He presses a glass to your lips, urging you to drink, and then pulling it away after you’ve had a few sips with a gentle “not too much.”

“Who are you?” The water is cold, refreshing, but a ting acidic, and you wonder if it’s well water, maybe?

“I’m Johnny.” He’s setting up something beside you, organizing it, but you can’t turn your head to look, and can’t quite catch it from your peripheral. “An’ this is Simon. Or Si, but ye probably willnae be callin’ him that quite yet.” Quite yet? What? Did they find you? Did they rescue you? Why can’t you remember?

“What happened.” You try again, gritting your teeth.

“Ye had an accident, remember? We talked about it yesterday. Ye rolled off the road, ended up nearly down the mountain, in the thick of the trees. Ye’re lucky the one didnae impale ye.” Impale?

“And you found me?” You're starting to feel tired again, all the sudden, woozy and weird, exhaustion pulling at your limbs. Shouldn't you be in a hospital? Why haven't they taken you to a doctor?

“Aye, we did. Pulled ye out, brought ye home.” Home?

“You don’t have to worry.” Simon, the bigger one, tells you. “We’re going to take care of you.” Take care of who? Everything is foggy, clouded, and you try to shake your head in confusion.

“I don’t… why-“

“Storm is pretty bad. One of those, once in a lifetime types. Pass is closed.” You close your eyes. Of course. The pass is closed. You guess you’re lucky. They could have left you to die, and you could have never been found. You could have frozen to death. Bled out.

“Thank… thank you.” Johnny hums, and then you ripple in shock as he leans forward and brushes his lips against your mouth in a kiss. This… this is not normal? Are Scottish people just… more affectionate?

“Want ye to know, if we didnae have to do this, we woudnae.” What?

“Do what?” Simon casts you a mournful glance, rising from the chair. He’s got piece of leather in his hand, like a cut from a belt, and your eyes dart between them, fear freezing solid inside your pores. Do what?

“Bite down on this, precious.” Simon instructs, placing the swatch against your bottom lip, and you jerk away in protest, pain burning through your body.

“Do what?” You try to sound strong, demanding, but it comes out a little less than timid, and he gives you a sad smile.

“Your femur is broken.” A warm hand rests on your leg, over the covers, and you try to click the pieces together. “And I suspect your radius is, too. We need to set them.”

Oh. Oh no.

“N-no, no, you… you ca-can’t.” You stutter. They can’t. A doctor should be doing that, shouldn’t they? Johnny hovers over you, placing his palm on your belly, stroking upwards to the middle of your chest, the other holding firm across your collarbone. His touch is gentle, but strong, and his thumb rubs in a cautious motion against your skin, lightly grazing the underside of your breast. It feels weird, and wrong… intimate in a way that makes you shiver. “Please. Please, please… don’t-“

“It’s alright.” He shushes you, and the pressure increases against your body as Simon wedges a thick finger between your teeth, slipping the worn leather in your mouth, bracing around your wrist, his other hand holding your elbow. You gasp for air, adrenaline fueled by pain and fear coursing through you, and Johnny coos, telling you ye’ll be alright, that ye’re with them now, and they’ll take such good care of ye.

“Take a deep breath.” Simon urges, and you stare at him, wide eyed, pulse thundering in your ears.

“Ye’ll probably pass out, bonnie. We’ll get the second one done while ye’re down, and I already gave ye somethin’ for the pain.” He assures, like it’s supposed to relieve you, and your nostrils flare as something tightens against your arm. Simon’s grip.

This can’t be happening. This has to be a nightmare. How can this happen? No, nononono-

There’s a crack. A crunch. Burning, obliterating torture rockets up your arm, exploding inside you like a shot. You scream and bite down at the same time, raw misery trying to claw it’s way out of your throat. You think you’re crying, hallucinating from the pain, having a heart attack, fucking dying, all at once. It hurts, it hurts so bad, stop, please-

“We’re sorry, we’re sorry.” Simon soothes, thumb wiping your cheek, but you can hardly hear him, your brain starting to sever itself from reality, floating away as you slip inside the dark tomb of your mind, losing yourself to the fog as they both stare down at you, sickeningly saccharine concern layered overtop the faces of wolves, predators licking their maws in preparation for a meal.

You sleep and wake in a haze.

You sleep. Your dreams are torments, visions of being chased through the mountains by monsters, being pinned to the ground, teeth tearing into your throat with no preamble, or nightmares of drowning, being swallowed by the ocean, lungs sputtering with concrete laden sea water.

You wake. Your vision blurs, mind scrambled by pain, vaguely aware of being moved, carried to the bathroom, held upright over a toilet, gentle touch soothing up and down your back, heavy palm cupping curve of your skull when your head is tipped back and something is dribbled past your lips. You blink blearily with stone weighted lids, taking in the room bit by bit, the wrought iron bed frame, crackling flames sparking in a fireplace, mountain of pillows sagging with the imprint of your body. Your limbs are wrapped and unwrapped, immobilized, and shifted, and the pain is enough to make you gasp for air, tipping you over into the decaying depths of unconsciousness again and again.

You sleep. Restless, chilled. Ice spreads from the nerves in the tip of your nose to your brain, your fingers, and you try to burrow it deeper, seeking the comfort of the pillows, but finding warm skin and muscle instead. In your sleep, it’s lovely. It’s comforting. Even when you’re rolled to your side, something sticking under your tongue, you chase the heady thick heat that seems to roll off the limbs around you.

You wake. There are voices, deep and rumbling, bouncing through the room. Warm water dabbing down your neck, your belly, your legs. You’re too hot, uncomfortable and smothered until you hear a sharp pitched snarl accompanied by a yank, and then there’s a void of emptiness around you.

You sleep.

You wake. The pain starts to change, melting into something that’s consistent, throbbing, but a little less sharp, unless you move, and then it shrieks through your nerves like an electrical shock, vibrating your jaw shut.

You sleep.

You wake. They’re there. Simon is dabbing a cool washcloth across your forehead. You try to flex away on instinct, but firm hands stop you, holding you in place.

“Hey there, dove.” Johnny whispers, smiling. It’s a shy kind of smile, sweet, and the world spins. You grapple with reality, trying to remind yourself where you are, what happened. The fire snaps and pops behind Simon, who stands at his side, massive hand on his shoulder. “Made ye some breakfast. Think ye can eat somethin’?” Breakfast? A steaming bowl of oats sits cradled in his hand, spoon at the ready. Nausea roars, enflamed by the pain in your bones, and you shake your head. “Ye need to eat. Been givin’ ye soup for the past few days, but ye need more carbs.”

“I- I don’t understand.” You try to explain your confusion, hundreds of questions brewing on your tongue, trying to spill out.

“You’ve been in and out consciousness for the last week.” Simon explains, and your eyes widen.

“What?” Panic knots, twisting you up tight, heart fluttering in your chest.

“We had to sedate you. Needed to keep you still through the first part of the healing process.”

“You… you drugged me?” You stammer, and Simon smiles, but it’s not sweet like Johnny’s. It’s severe. It’s dangerous.

“Soft calluses form around fractures, after they’ve been set.” He sits down on the other side of the bed, across your hips from Johnny. “Your breaks aren’t in casts, so we needed to minimize your movement until the calluses could strengthen.”

“Ye willnae be able to walk on the leg, or lift anything with that arm, but we’ll help ye.” Johnny assures. “We’ll be here for ye, as ye get better.” The words don’t compute, and you look at both of their faces, sweeping back and forth, blue eyes to brown, brown to blue, until the only thing that you can think of blurts out of your mouth:

“Where’s my phone?” There’s a flash of discontent in Johnny’s features, but it’s quickly smoothed away, and you wonder if it even there in the first place.

“I imagine it’s somewhere near where your jeep rolled. We weren’t exactly concerned with finding it, considering we were trying to save your life.” Simon’s hands flex in the sheets, and then relax, serious look on his face, and guilt swamps you. Right. They saved your life. You could have died. And the pass is closed. Maybe this is all… as normal as it can be, given the situation. Calm down.

Still…

Didn’t Johnny kiss you?

The spoon clinks against the bowl, jolting you back to the moment, eyeing the scoop of oats as it drifts closer to your mouth, lips parting on instinct.

The first bite is difficult, an insipid, unsavory lump sliding down into your stomach, toothy grin stretching across Johnny’s face as you swallow. The second bite is easier. So is the third, and you manage a few more after that until you start to feel wooly, head fuzzy and stomach sick. “I can’t.” You bleat, and he nods sympathetically.

“Alright, ye did good.” Sleep tugs, insistent again, strong surge of fog pulling at your eyes, and you yawn.

“Tired?” Simon’s already moving, hovering, patiently adjusting your pillows and lazily urging you into them. “You should rest.” You’re too weak, too miserable to argue, so you let yourself fade to black, easily falling back into the webbed slush of sleep.

You drift in and out for days after that. A bright spot of consciousness here and there before it dissipates and you fall into oblivion, and you find yourself embracing it as often as possible, trying to escape into yourself, away from wooden beams and potential predators that flank you.

You’re content to let it stay that way, hiding away behind closed lids for as long as possible, until the morning you feel the washcloth.

“Sh-sh-shhh.” Johnny hums when you garble out a distressed question, tipping a glass to your mouth. Cold liquid rushes across your tongue, and you have no choice but to swallow, confusion webbing across your thoughts. Simon has the blankets pulled away, chilled air nipping and your skin, and you moan. It’s strange, like you’re exposed, half floating like you’re high, and half spiraling through your pain.

“It’s okay, we’ve got you.” They’re repositioning you, arms and legs like a little doll, and you frown. “Jus’ need to get you clean.” Clean? The washcloth coasts across your neck and down to your chest, warm water soaking a trail down your breasts. You’re naked, fully, a hot palm against your hip, skin on skin contact registering as you blink fuzzily, watching the way Johnny focuses on you, concentration shining in his stunning blue eyes.

Water sloshes. Squeezing and dripping, and then the warm, nearly hot cloth is being pressed against you, stroking over your nipples, washing the underside of your breasts. It feels nice, and you whine a little when it pulls away. Simon chuckles.

“Do ye like that?” Johnny coos, reapplying the cloth to your belly. “Does that feel good?” Does it? Is it supposed to? Your vision doubles then realigns, and you stare at the underside of Simon’s jaw, mesmerized by the scar on his chin, the width of his neck. He readjusts you, again, slowly moving your knees apart, spreading your legs, and heat climbs through your bones to your cheeks.

You’re naked. They’re fully clothed.

“We’re goin’ clean this up a bit.” Simon murmurs, a thick finger tracing along your slit, through the soft curls between your legs, and you balk. Clean what? How?

“My… my-“ you can’t even get the words out, too embarrassed, and he nods, sliver flash of a razor twinkling in his hand. The air in your chest sputters.

“Your hair.” Johnny works the washcloth back and forth, water dripping down your skin to the towel that’s been placed under your hips, you can only lay there in mortification when you feel yourself getting wet, tepid arousal roaring to life between your legs. “If you’re a good girl for us,” Simon continues, spraying a big glob of shaving cream into Johnny’s palm, “we’ll give you a treat afterwards. How’s that sound?”

“A treat?” You squeak, and then whimper, Johnny’s fingers creeping down your slit, rubbing the cream across your pubis and labia, heel brushing against your clit. You make a noise of a protest, but it falls on deaf ears.

“Ye’re alright.” He coos, bumping against the swollen bud again, and you try to stop the moan that builds in your chest with no success, slamming your eyes shut and trying to disappear into the pillows. “It’s natural, dove. Ye dinnae need to feel embarrassed.” He leans forward, slotting his mouth against yours, lips soft and fragrant in a pillowy sweet kiss that lasts too long, his eyes blissfully closed in front of your almost crossed ones.

“Please…” you whisper, but you’re not sure what you’re asking for, and Johnny coos at you, bending at the waist to get a better vantage point between your legs. You shake your head, eyes wide with disbelief, with fear, your mind trying to catch up, trying to rationalize what’s happening at the same time as your body is betraying you, slicking the cream that’s lathered between your thighs, clit pulsing with desperate need.

“I- I don’t want you to… shave me.” You whisper. You don’t want them to touch you… there, and the panic that’s pulsing between your ears continues to rise as your protests go unnoticed. Just saying it out loud makes you want to die of embarrassment, and Simon clucks.

“We have to take care of you, sweet girl.” Simon grips your thigh, fingers pressing into flesh, and the cool blade of the razor moves against the grain with a flick of his wrist, drawing back to a bucket for a rinse before a repeat, breath frozen in your chest as he slowly eliminates the curls of your pubic hair. “It will be easier to do that, to see what you need without all this.” He hums, the smile of a wolf coy on his face. “Stay nice and still for us.” They work in tandem, perfectly synchronized, and your unwanted arousal starts to overpower the pain that’s radiating from your broken bones. It’s been so, so long since you’ve been touched by anyone, and your body does not care that you didn’t want this, or agree to it, too eager to be satisfied, to be touched in anyway it can get, and it gets worse, more intense the longer it goes on, the precise movements of their hands, the slow and methodical approach to your cunt. “Almost done.” Simon tells you, and the side of his finger passes over your clit unintentionally, and you whine. “I know, I know. You’re bein’ so good. Such a good girl.” Your good hand is shaking, gripping the sheets, and when he finishes, Johnny wipes you down with a clean cloth, passing over your clit again and again, electric shocks sparking in your belly. You’re paralyzed, helpless, and yet… soaked. Desperate. The warring emotions tear at you, shame and fear and desire rendering you speechless.

“I think ye need some relief, dove.” Johnny hums, looking from your pussy to Simon, both of them tilting their heads to stare between your legs. “Poor thing is so swollen, Si.”

“Do you want to touch her, Johnny? Give her a reward?” Simon asks him, so sweetly, and Johnny shimmies down to be eye level with your pussy, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Half of you screams no. Half of you shouts yes.

All you can do is watch, helplessly, as they settle themselves between your legs, Simon over Johnny’s shoulder, tempering his frenzied excitement with assured patience.

“Will ye show me how?” He’s eager, and you frown, confused.

“Johnny’s never made a girl come before,” Simon tells you gently. “You’ll be his first.” Oh my god. “Will you help him? Tell him what feels good?” Your brain melts. You don’t know what to say, mouth half open, staring at the both of them, and after a few seconds, Simon sighs like he’s exasperated with you, before ducking back down next to Johnny and murmuring softly to him, probing along your cunt, finger dipping into your hole, swirling in the wetness gathered there and then moving up to your slit. You gasp, eyes nearly rolling back in your head.

“She likes that.” Johnny groans, breath blowing over your exposed flesh, and Simon takes his hand, thumb over thumb, guiding him in small circles around your clit.

“Nice an’ slow at first, when you’re rubbin’ her clit. Feel how hard it is?” He instructs, pressing a kiss to the side of Johnny’s head, and he nods enthusiastically, looking up at Simon with wide, puppy dog eyes, sappy and saturated with love. It’s sweet, and affectionate, like they’re the only ones in the room, in the world… and you’re intruding on a private moment between these two men and your body. Like you’re a bystander. Or a doll. It’s confusing, your brain trying to sort everything that’s happening into neat little boxes that keep overflowing or falling apart, fracturing under the weight of your helplessness, the shock and fear that’s nearly made you dizzy. “See how her little hole is clenchin’ like that? It’s ‘cause she’s empty, needs to be filled up. When she comes, she’ll get real tight.” He explains, your body enflaming in mortified heat. They’re pushing you closer and closer to an orgasm, and Simon increases the speed as your hips jolt.

“Fuck.” You hiss.

“That’s it.” Simon coaches. “Are you close, sweet girl? Gonna come for us?” You shake your head, but even if you wanted to close your legs, you couldn’t. You’re trapped, lost in a sea of wild waves that break directly over your head, one after another until you’re drowning, gasping, muscles so tight they burn, pain in your arm and leg a secondary concern behind the pressure in your belly, the zap of your clit as they drag you too easily to the bottom, before sending you breaking through the surface.

You come with a distressed moan, hips jerking, and then a raspy plea for them to stop, telling them it’s too much, you’re too sensitive, to which Simon wraps his hand around Johnny’s wrist and pulls his hand away.

“We can’t overwhelm her just yet. Gotta wait until she’s healed up, hm?” He murmurs, reaching for the cloth. You blink at the ceiling, drifting, floating away, little boxes in your mind broken up into gnarled pieces that don’t make sense.

What just happened?

You stay silent, blank, as they settle you, cloth cleaning between your legs, blankets being fussed with around your body, pillows plumped. Simon curls some of your unruly hair behind your ear, swooping down until the breadth of his body blocks out all the light in the room, lips brushing over your ear. “What a good girl you are, dove. Did so well, letting Johnny give you an orgasm. So sweet for him.” He tucks you in a little tighter, and Johnny ducks around him, kissing you gently, like you’re made of glass, thrilled smile tugging at his cheeks, unfettered joy the last thing you see before your eyes slip shut.

The next time you wake, Johnny is in bed with you. It’s dark, a flickering orange glow casting shadow across the room, and you startle at the weight of his arm stretched across your chest, cradling you close, half curled around you like a cat. You turn, face to face, his mouth slightly agape, breath blowing over your cheek. You can’t get enough leverage on one leg to slide out from under him, and when you squirm, he only tightens his grip, pinning you to the bed. You’re overheated, and when you peek over his shoulder to get a look at the fire, you see Simon instead, sitting upright in a chair, fully awake, watching you. White hot fear shocks your system, forcing your eyes down in disbelief, surprise, his chair creaking in the night. Your breath stops in your chest, and then there’s a hand smoothing over your forehead, as he leans past you to brush his lips against Johnny’s, and then rough stubble presses against your cheek with a jagged whisper.

“Sweet dreams, little dove.”

#peaches writes #dub con #ghost x soap x reader #soap x ghost x reader #ghoap x reader #john soap mactavish #ghost x reader x soap #simon riley #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #Ghoap #soap x reader

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moonit3 · 6 months

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THE HAREM

➥ warnings/notices: yandere, gn! reader, harem (both of men and women), obsession, mentioned pregnancy, reader isn’t straight, mentioned children, nudity but nothing too much, the retired emperor (your father) wants grandchildren.

➥ synopsis: maybe a harem isn’t a bad idea after all, not with a bunch of people wanting to be yours.

➥ yandere! concubines harem x gn! reader

➥ a/n: here it is, my friends. an entire piece of a bunch of people obsessing over chasing the reader and able to anything to make you their. as the people has speak, the harem consists of men and women to let you guys choose or imagine about the concubines. I don’t what to say more, so enjoy it!

inheriting the throne of the empire, father and the council decided that you should get married soon as possible, which wasn’t bad. you already expected to enter a marriage like everyone told you so, but you didn’t expect that father would send a bunch of concubines to the palace…why did he do that? is he crazy?

according to him, it would be beneficial to the empire to have more connection with nobles of the territory and other people from other part of the world. but also that he desperately want grandkids to be running around the palace and since you are unsuccessful in striking a conversation, father is more than willingly to help you. he is lucky that you love him, because you were ready to choke him for those stupid actions.

things gotten worse by the time you receive the many proposals from people that are willing to join your harem, it’s shocked you a little. many nobles, foreigners and even politicians are offering themselves to become your concubines.

many palaces were build or reformed to be home for those who were assigned to enter your harem. the walls of golden, silver and other expensive material are a great to show how the leader of the nation isn’t above to spend his fortune to accommodate the people that will be part of their daily life, but it’s also a remind that none should interrupt the emperor/empress in their work, but some of those concubines ignore that.

it’s easy to find the most boldly and shameless people from your harem inside your office, whispering to your ears things that none should say during work hours and trying to move their hands to your lower parts. that irritates you, they are supposed to be bothering you on your free hours like you expected, but they don’t care. your beloved concubines knows that you don’t have courage to punish or exile them for their actions, aren’t you a sweetheart? so they often try to make a move on you when you less expected.

one of those unexpected moments was during your bath, when you prefer to be alone and peace that didn’t last long. a man and a woman appeared from nowhere and they were complete naked, showing their intimate part to you. before you could disappear or command them to leave, the men with white hair made you take a seat on his lap while the woman, with green hair, wash your body, speaking that someone so hard working like you should take a moment to rest with them.

your mind quickly remembers whose the two are, both of them are foreign knight who joined the harem not a long time ago. the scars they carry on their skin that tell stories of fights and conflicts, sunburn marks of spending hours under the sun working to archive the body of a warrior and good looking who could easily choose anyone to marry if they weren’t part of the harem.

neither of them dared to take things further, knowing that you are almost on the limit by having two concubines in your private bathroom, but that don’t stop them from trying to strike a special subject with you. asking if you already chose with who you will bed first and who will be the one to carry the first born/make you pregnant.

the two questions were enough to make you overthinking, how could you forget such an important thing and the main reason why there concubines? you need to give the throne a minimal of four potential heirs (father’s words) and for that, you need to choose at least three concubines.

with the bath ending, the two waved goodbye as they didn’t want to intrude your personal chambers when they notice how focused you got by his words. you didn’t saw the smiles on their faces, you failed to realize their plan is working and nor you perceived how the others concubines whispered to each other about the incoming rumors about you.

“it seems that our beloved is finally choosing someone to bed with them! it’s my chance to show myself to them!”

“w-will they take my consideration? the letters i wrote for them might work…”

“maybe they will choose more than one. the retired emperor said he wants at least four heirs from different people, so everyone has a chance!”

many days that were wasted to talk with father about the potential candidates were a lot, the old man couldn’t stop talking how happy he was when hearing yours words. “im going to be a grandfather! can’t you see how much proud am i to finally see you taking the first step to being with someone? i promise to help you raising the little ones!”and for next couple of hours, he didn’t stop talk about the potential scenarios with the hypothetical grandkids that he will spoils with no end.

when father finally stopped talking and went to retire for the rest of the night, you walked back to your office with the intention of finish paperwork that is meant for next month, but you found someone there. one of the tallest ladies of the harem with white curly hair that reach her chest and a dark skin that reminds of you callas lilies. a beautiful, no… a gorgeous woman stands in front of your with her hands holding your chin to look up at her starry eyes.

“my dear,” her voice is sweet as honey, but you can hear the undertones of it, holding back her true energy and you know she is more than a pretty face. “is that true of you choosing a concubine to bed with?”

“y-yeah.” you stuttered. why you did? you never did that before. “everyone knows it, why the question though, my lady?”

“because i was hoping to be the first one to experience it.” she whispered, holding your face closer to her chest, feeling how soft its feel against your cheek. “would you give me the pleasure of being your first, my dear?”

she is a bold one. unlike others who works at the shadows, manipulating and even killing those who are in their paths, the second born of the grand duke knows how to use her charms to enchants you to open your heart to let her in. her starry eyes are too bright to the darkness to the room, but you don’t move away from her gaze, at least not on your own.

a knock on the door reveals another concubine and it’s a familiar face, but also an old face from your childhood, the general. one of the greatest things to ever happen to the empire and responsible to bring many territories to the throne, he is also part of the harem. to think a powerful man like him left his own land to become a concubine for you is extraordinary, but worrying. none of them spoken, just keep staring at each other for minutes until the woman left the office without saying a word, but not before kissing your lips, it tasted like strawberries.

alone with the general, he step closer and guided your hand to his chest, letting you feel his heart skipping faster and faster just by your touch. his cheeks are burning red, an unlike view from the so called the coldest man of the empire, and when he opens his lips to speak, you can’t help but feel surprised.

“would i be selfish for asking to be the only one inside your heart? i can’t help myself when others talk with you, none of them deserve to be around you and touch you, but i do.” his face get closer, too closer to your lips. “give me a chance to show my love. give me a chance to be responsible for the first heir of the empire. let me be the father of your children and please, let me stay at your chambers every single night for the rest of our lives.”

@moonit3 writings

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evilminji · 8 months

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You know what I never see explored?

"Not on MY watch!" Superfan Dash Baxter. The young, limnal, quarterback built like a tank and willing to hit like one.

Because let's be real here. Imagine that scenario: Dash, heading to practice with his Bros. His best friends. The team. When? Oh shit! It's PHANTOM! Best day EVER right?

Except it's NOT.

Somethings wrong. He's not as graceful as he usually is. There is no clever comebacks. He looks beat up, man. What HAPPENED? Everyone looks confused when Dash looks around. But before he can call up to him?

Phantom is Shot Out Of The SKY.

Hits the football field HARD. The entire team is already running. Full sprint. It's those fucking GIW. Already driving onto the field and tearing it up. Jumping out, weapons primed.

Phantom's not... oh god, he's not getting up.

He looks hurt. Really hurt. Those bastards are closing in.

Dash's team? Has his back. They're also fans. Friends of his. Not a single one hesitates. They put their BACKS into it and welcome these sick fucks to Tackle Practice. With a follow up of "Taste Your Own Teeth". Amity special, coach would be proud.

But Dash... fuck, he can't wail on these guys AND protect Phantom at the same time. Kwan tells him to go. Throws him his keys. His car is least shit. Dash owes him SO many pizzas for this. First pick on movies for LIFE, man.

It hurts to leave his team behind. His best friend. But Dash has to GO. He can already hear the Fentons closing in. He grabs Phantom, his HERO, and runs for his life.

Barely manages to peel out of there in time. Floors it. Calls Paulina, obviously. She and Star are doing a spa day thing. She picks up because she KNOWS he wouldn't bother her if it wasn't serious. And-!

Oh...

Oh fuck.

In the rear view mirror. The Fentons and GIW just screeched onto the road behind him. Closing distance FAST. What does he do? Paulina he can't... he WON'T hand Phantom over!

And of course she understands. For God's sake, she in LOVE with the guy. He's never heard her sound so scared and furious. They'll get phantom over her twice dead body. She and Star are making some sort of noises, chanting, and...?

Giant Amazons with swords? GHOST Amazons. Suddenly in the road, jumping over his car to attack the cars behind him. Paulina what the FUCK?? She been talking to her Abuela, APPARENTLY. Who's friends aunt's "roomate" was particularly good at communicating with the dead. So OBVIOUSLY Paulina got her to send notes and studied them in secret.

Gotta be able to speak to you future husband's family in their native language. You win brownie points. Gives her a step up. "Not the point"? It's kind of a point! Giant warrior women! Who-?

Paulina made friends while practicing.

Of course she did. Why is he even REMOTELY surprised she chose the giant terrifying Amazons to be beasties with? He's know her for years. He should know better by now.

.....he feels small asking. Hates that his voice shakes. But... but what do they DO, 'Lina?

What he hates even more is the little shake in his childhood friends voice, even though she's trying to sound certain and strong. What they Do? What they DO is Dash drives his ass the her house, gets in her BETTER car, which she is going to load up, and they leave Amity.

She has LOADS of money. All sorts of jewelry. They're very last season. Frankly, she.. she can't WAIT to pawn them if they have too. They just have to drive. Get Phantom as far away from those freaks as possible. Get help.

And? It could go so many ways from there? Paulina LOVES Phantom. How will she reconcile that with her views on Fenton? How will Dash? Seperated from their roles as "the popular ones" and "the crazy people's son". Knowing that... that Danny likes her TOO.

But she's been AWFUL to him. She said so much. DID so much.

Do the even? LIKE each other? Or just the IDEA of each other? The person they made up in their heads.

They're afraid, tired, on the run. But free from school, the expectations of others, the baked in histories of a small town. Who ARE they as people? Do they like each other? COULD they?

I want to believe that Paulina really means it. That no one is at their best in middle and high school. They say and do stupid, mean, shallow shit. Because the world presses and presses and tells them it's all they are worth. Because they don't know who they ARE yet. Because she is a child. Not yet eighteen.

And Danny isn't perfect either. He saw a pretty, pretty face and got distracted by it. Didn't see how HARD she works. How smart she is. How ambitious and brilliant at reading people.

Are they trying to get to an Embassy? To Paulina's extended Family to the south, who would most certainly take them in, and would gladly fight gods for them? Or is this a crossover? Are they going towards other Heros? Older ones?

Is Paulina planning to pull a Lois Lane and Cause Problems On Purpose? Is Dash HAUNTED by "oh fuck, Wes was right." And now knows he's gonna have just... just WALK UP TO THEM. Broad ass daylight. Like "hello, I clearly know your secret identity! Please don't kill me!"?

Whatever the plan? Danny is in the back row of Paulina's once nice, now beat to hell car, bleeding irresistibly damaging acidic ecto-blood all over the seats. Wrapped up like a mummy. Texting Tucker.

The live tweets from Amity are... An Event. A Spectacle for the ages. His parents KNOW now, have speed run their grief STRAIGHT to RAGE, directed that rage at the GIW, and gone to WAR. Once a Fenton, always a Fenton. Jazz was right. "Anti-ghost" sentience testing once a week DID pay off.

Was it a pain in the ass? Absolutely. But results don't lie. He clearly passed. Is clearly sentient, emotional, and their son. All in hard numbers they ran themselves. Will it stop them attack FULL ghosts? Jazz has no idea. But it sure did convince them to put the GIW in a hole and fill it with concrete.

Danny's getting reports of "you SHOT MY BABY!" Being shouted in public. Sam has decided to channel her frustration at being unable to help him into Full Goth Dramatic Shit Stirring. Non-waterproof mascara, disheveled hair. Clutching a picture of him. Dramatic howling and weeping in the arms of her parents.

Apparently now that he's presumed DEAD, the Mansons ALWAYS loved him. Like a SON to them. A sweet, innocent child. Their daughters friend! The GIW are monsters and child killers, they decry.

And the Red Huntress is... Oh, yikes. Yeah he should call her. Val is one more bad thing happening from her villian origin story. At least she... PROBABLY... has killed anyone yet. Note to self: when Danny can actually move torso again, buy Valerie soothing anti-stress...everything. All the things. She responds to stress by punching. Deliver from safe, non-punchable distance.

All in all? My Dash? Needs more Dash! Give the popular kids a chance to prove they aren't just cardboard cut outs! That they can grow beyond the roles high-school and society has pushed them into! Give them some trauma! Why only Danny? Spread the psychic damage!

@stealingyourbones @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #dp prompt #dash baxter

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eroselless · 2 months

Text

ESTABA LOCA POR PROBARTE

Summary=>Request: Could you maybe write a smut one shot about Carlos? Maybe smth along the lines of his girlfriend getting her nipples pierced and he can’t get enough of them? Thank yaaaa [1.3k]

[carlos sainz x reader ]

MASTERLIST

Warnings: 18+ for explicit language and smut, titty suckin, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), daddy kink?, we're also ignoring the physics of sand and how it gets everywhere.

If there's any I missed let me know!

Note: It’s a little shorter than I hoped but I like it nonetheless. I changed it a little to the reader having the piercings beforehand just cuz I know how long it takes for those mfs to heal lol, hope that’s ok! Also, would guys be interested in doing more Spanish dialogue (with the translations, obvi) or should I use more English dialogue?

here's the playlist i listened to while writing :)

You could see him from where you were wading in the water. He’s leaning back on his lounge chair, hands up, holding onto the pages of some book he picked at the hotel store. The waves had calmed down and only pushed you around a little bit. The waves lapped gently against the powdery shore, the cool water soothing your slightly burned skin. The beach was fairly empty, the sun almost below the horizon behind you. It was surrounded by looming palm trees, secluded from the public and prying eyes. You waded out of the water, approaching Carlos as he watched you get closer. You looked like a goddess, water cascading around your shoulders in waves, water dripping from your body. Carlos was almost jealous of the water and how it clung to your skin.

“Nadaste rico?” did you have a good swim? He asks, eyes unabashedly trailing over your figure. You let out a hum, wiping your face with a towel. You shake your hair out, sending drops of water towards him. He lets out a squeal, leaning away from you.

You let out a laugh, a smirk appearing on your face.

“Te ves muy calientito, amor.” you look very warm, love. You state. You cock an eyebrow, placing your hands on your hips. He looks up at you, big brown eyes open wide.

He has enough time to put his book down on the sand before you pounce. You jump into his arms, hair going everywhere. Your fingers poke at his sides, pulling a loud laugh out of him. His hands are holding firmly onto your waist, trying to avoid touching your sopping-wet bathing suit. You both eventually run out of breath and he relents, letting your chest press against his.

You lay there for a second, cheek against his warm skin. He trails his hands down your back, stopping right above the elastic waistband of your bikini bottoms. His fingers fiddle with the strings, careful not to accidentally pull the knots out. You look up at him, chin propped up on your hand.

You sit up in his lap, the sudden cold making you shiver. There’s a new look in his eyes as he stays still. They’re dark as he once again takes in your appearance. Your chest heaves a bit and your hair is messy, still dripping with water. His fingers remain in the same spot too but now he’s tempted to pull at the knot that holds them in place.

“¿Qué?” what? You ask.

In one swift move, he sits up, taking your face in his hands. His thick lips envelop yours, tongue easily sliding into your mouth. He tastes a little salty from the ocean breeze. Your hands wrap gently around his neck, fingers pulling at the hair that’s at the base of his neck. His hands move back to your hips, rocking them against his. He feels terribly hard underneath you and you feel yourself grow wet.

“Espera, y si alguien nos ve?” wait, what if someone sees us? You ask. He simply shakes his head.

“¿Porque piensas que escogí este lugar?” why do you think i chose this spot? He retorts. His eyes full of anticipation. A shaky smirk appears on your face as his lips begin to trail over the skin that joins your neck and shoulder. His hands sweep over your shoulder, fingers gently pulling the triangles that covered your tits.

“¿Puedo?” can I? You nod, you know what he’s referring to. He’d been waiting patiently for your nipple piercings to heal, always asking when he’d be able to finally play with them.

You hiss slightly as he peels the fabric of your swimsuit away. The metal bar shines in the sun. you hear him mutter out a soft coño as he finally presses his fingers to your pebbled nipples. He pinches them slightly, careful not to tug too hard. Your mind is buzzing at the touch, after going almost a year without having anyone else but yourself touching them. It sent signals down to your cunt, spurring you on even more.

“No creo que jamas superere estas cositas.” I don't think I’ll ever get over these. He whispers in your ear, nose dragging over your cheek. He leans down, capturing one of your sensitive pearls between his lips. They drag over your skin. He savours the taste of your skin, pushing his nose further into the plush skin of your breast.

You let out a gasp, back arching and snapping into position. He switches nipples, gently sinking his teeth into your smooth skin. You huff, the heat between your legs beginning to become unbearable.

“Te n-necesito,” I n-need you. You say breathlessly. Carlos simply hums.

“Pero si estoy just aquí, ¿que más necesitas?” But if I'm right here, what else do you need? He wanted you to tell him. To beg for his cock.

“Necesito tu polla,” I need your cock. You begin, pressing your hips down to the tent in his swim shorts. “Por favor, papi.” please, daddy.

He quickly undoes his shorts, pumping his cock as you pulled the knots free on your bikini bottoms. You guide yourself over him, sinking down. The stretch is devilishly delicious as you rock against him. He grabs your hair in a makeshift ponytail, pulling it back. With your neck and chest revealed, his teeth nip at the now exposed skin. You falter a bit, a deep moaning falling from your lips. You swear you start to see starts, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Te vez tan bella asi, toda jodida.” you look so good like this, all fucked out He says. He grips your hips, pressing his heels into the lounge chair underneath you. Pushing up, he snaps his hips into yours. The force is so great you feel yourself fall forward, hands pressing into the cushion of the chair around Carlos’s head.

He ruts into you faster, fingers squeezing bruising tight. You can feel a coil begin to form in your stomach. He hesitates, slowing down slightly to press his fingers into your clit. He looks divine laying beneath you, sweat beading on his forehead, lips parted and panting. His eyes are draped in shadows and droopy. Oh, he’s close. You think. He knows you mostly likely won't be discovered by anyone but shit, it excites him further.

He’s a whimpering mess when you tells you: ya estoy por venir, i’m gonna come.

He pulls you down, pressing your lips together as you both grow closer to your end. You press your fingers to your clip, stimulating it as you feel yourself start to clench around Carlos. He snaps his hips up one final time and spills himself into you. You cry out as you feel him gush into you, sending you off the edge.

He watches your tits bounce faintly as you try to regain the air knocked out of you. He pulls you flush to his chest. Mirroring the events from earlier, you lay on his chest, both of you struggling for air. He presses his lips to your head as you come down from your highs. He relishes in how the soft sting of cool metal of your piercings press against his chest and he can’t wait to have his mouth on them again.

a/n: hey guysss thanks for making it this far. I hope y'all liked it! I very much am missing summer right now and thought it would pair nicely with the request. I apologize it took a little bit to get it out. I'd love for more requests! I've been on a Carlos, Lando and Charles high right now so feel free to send in any ideas you have :) and once again, feedback and reblogs are always appreciated <3

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine

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starlostseungmin · 16 days

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whispers ─── lee felix.

✰ notes : first of all i'd like to announce that i reached 3k friends here! thank you so much for that and i appreciate every single one of you! <33 anyway if you watched ABOUT TIME movie, you are already familiar with this scene because it's inspired by it. i just made a bit of changes and with felix in it so i hope you guys like it (this is not proofread btw) also, please DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS after reading! thank you <33

✰ tags : @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji

masterlist | taglist.

felix went home a bit late that one saturday night after work. he had to see the movie he promised to watch with jeongin at the cinema. you bailed out after he invited you when he mentioned he got tickets and made a reason to sleep on a day off. he parted ways with jeongin around the block and walked home, alone.

it was cold, he could see the smoke coming out from his mouth as his hands shoved inside the pockets of his jacketーthe stars were illuminating the dark sky with a few clouds in sight but his eyes wandered around the streets. he was supposed to take the train back to your shared apartment but didn’t want to be disrupted by noisy passengers with loud music banging their ears from their earphones and he tried to take some time to think.

you’ve been dating for the past three years and it has been amazing. he never felt so happy and contented. the joy cannot be compared to any other things. it was that time when the two of you met at a diner just outside the office where you were working. the purpose was to grab dinner and go home then, this wonderful man showed up who had gotten the love at first sight experience. an opportunity came in and a conversation. he invited you to dates every weekend until the feelings got deeper after getting to know each other for weeks, made the relationship official with labels, and decided to live together.

for the past three years, it was magical as it made tons of memories that you and felix couldn’t write every single one of them in your journal. the polaroids that were taken are hanging on the walls of your room with dates written on each one of them. those plushies he won for you sat on the shelves, the books being piled up being read or untouched, the albums from your favorite artists being displayed on the table along with the music player and vinyl, the flowers on the vases, the letters and other gifts you’ve exchangedーit was sweet.

having this amazing relationship with felix is like reading a book without a synopsis or a summary from the covers or even the first pages. you don’t know what’s going to happen. it’s like living every day and there are things you cannot control. it’s either you read and go on with the story with curiosity and braveness or do not read the book at all and miss a series of events that could change your life. yet, you chose to read the book and the author created a love story you could ask for. it did change your life as well as felix’s but one thing’s for sure, there are a lot of trials on the way but it would start by holding your hands together to make a stronger bond, just like how chemical bonds create structures.

he went inside as quietly as possible as he didn’t want to ruin your slumber. the lights were switched off in the living room and only the entrance’s light censor made him see through the dark as he removed his shoes.

felix has thought of all the possibilities and the impossible, the rights and wrongs, the obstacles and smooth ways while walking. the consistency of this relationship must remain and be locked. he knew it wouldn’t be fancy but he promised himself that he’ll do it in a way that the two of you would prefer. and now, he’s here, looking at your sleeping figure being wrapped around that white duvet.

“baby,” he called softly as he shook your shoulder lightlyーkneeling down on the carpeted floor of your room.

“hmm?” you hummed in response. “five more minutes.” you muttered making him let out a soft chuckle.

“no, baby, wake up,” he said. “i have something important to ask,”

your eyes flutter open, from a blurry vision to a clear frame directed at his face. a smiley felix welcomed you as he caressed your hair when you were about to sit up.

“no, just lay down,” he said.

“okay,” you smiled. “what is it?” you asked, feeling relaxed on your soft mattress and the coziness of your pillow.

“you know that we’re happy, right?” he paused as you nodded in response. “i don’t know if it’s the movie i watched with jeongin that made me feel this way, it's always the romance genre that would hit me to reality and the thought that i always have you by my side—” he added when you put your index finger on his lips, hearing a piece of romantic music playing gently from the living room as it echoes through the open door of your room.

“is that romantic music?” you asked. “and you’re on your knees while saying something that i doubt is not just a love confession,” you added while fighting to stay awake which felix laughed shyly.

“yeah,” he said, licking his lower lip in embarrassment. “i am,”

“go on,” you smiled.

“will you marry me?” he asked which made your smile bigger and now you’re fully awake.

“i think,” you paused, clearing your throat. “i’m going to say, yes to that,” you added, looking at him in awe, saying; “and thank you for doing this that does not involve a lot of people and other crowds. i don’t like many people,”

felix smiled gently and placed a soft kiss on your lips before tracing his fingers on your cheeks, “i also don’t like people,” he said. “thank you for saying yes,” he whispered before leaning forward to kiss you again.

“i love you, darling,” you said in between.

“i love you more,” he answered. “get back to sleep, alright? i’ll join you in 10,”

“okay,” you said softly as he smiled, leaving a kiss on your forehead before exiting the room shushing han and seungmin for playing the instruments he asked for support outside.

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

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tojifile · 4 months

Text

@Satosugu . . . ( ´ ꒳ ` )

Tags: idols!satosugu, f!reader, very very cliché wattpad 2018 plot, fan!reader, satosugu x reader, fluff, no curse au, cursing, use of petnames, mentions of stalking, clingy Satoru, kind of ooc (?), reader is 18 n the guys are 19, reader is shorter than both of them, NOT A SATOSUGU SHIP POST

A/N: Thinking about Geto Suguru & Gojo Satoru and those kpop fics I saw everywhere on Wattpad during 2018. I made it less (?) cringe. This is just for fun anyways, I still eat up the most cliché shit. I just love love love them. Pt.2 is out now frfr!!

Kaisen - JJK Entertainment ☆

- Gojo Satoru

- Geto Suguru

idol!satoru who you literally bump into on a cold winter’s night in Japan. He has this cheeky grin on his face as he saw your shocked expression. “Hey princess!” He teasingly says. You thought that he looked kind of familiar but you weren’t really paying much attention, you were too caught up trying to escape the guy who has been following you.

idol!suguru who almost immediately noticed the man all dressed in black who seemed to be keeping a close eye on you while also maintaining a distance. Suguru observed the man as you and Satoru conversed.

idol!satoru who’s fond of the way you look up at him before apologizing, as if your brain buffered for a second. “Like what you see princess?” Satoru teased. You snap back into reality and turn red, you then started to apologize profusely. “I’m– I’m sorry for staring and bumping into you, I really didn’t mean it!!”

idol!suguru who then whispers something to Satoru. He decided to take matters into their own hands. It was obvious that the man was someone you were trying to get away from and the man was obviously intimidated by Suguru and Satoru.

Before you knew it Satoru went to your side and interwined his fingers with yours. “Just follow our lead princess. We won’t hurt ‘ya, I promise.” He then began to lead you somewhere while Suguru walked right behind you.

You then start to notice some people taking pictures of you and the two random men you just met a minute ago. Suguru then went to your side to make sure you weren’t captured by any more pictures. Although, the constant camera clicks did make you curious. You looked up to catch a glimpse of Suguru and Satoru’s face. It was at that moment you realized that these two weren’t just random men—they were world-famous idols.

idol!satoru who caught you trying to sneak a peek at the both of them. Your blush didn’t go unnoticed as you realized who they were. He chuckles but chose to let it slide. Trust me, he really, really wanted to tease you, but he figured that Suguru and him should take you somewhere safe first.

idols!satosugu who brought you to their hotel room. Suguru tries to make you feel comfortable. He makes small talk as you sat beside him on the couch, asking you about your name, likes and dislikes, what you did today. You were still in shock, you couldn’t believe you were in the hotel room of your favorite idols. Although you weren’t as much of a fan as everyone else, you couldn’t deny how handsome they were.

Suguru also made sure to tell you that the man who was following you couldn’t follow you inside the hotel. Their security here was great and he wanted to reassure you that you were in good hands.

idol!satoru who wants to keep you with him forever. He’s now saying things like, “Oh princess! I wish I could keep you in my pocket and bring you back to Korea!” His words make you blush hard. But Satoru’s words made Suguru sigh, he didn’t want you to think they were like your stalker.

Turns out they planned a semi-secret trip to their hometown. They didn’t tell the world they were going there, but they weren’t exactly hiding it. You were grateful yet utterly confused. Why would they help you out of nowhere?

idol!suguru who insists on walking you home but then they get mass texts from their manager in JJK Entertainment;

manager

Didn’t I tell the both of you to not get into trouble??

Check your socials, you and Satoru were found with some girl.

I swear to god Suguru, this is a PR disaster. We’ll pick you up as soon as possible. For now, don’t go out of your hotel room.

19:27

Suguru sighed as he saw the text messages, he knew they fucked up. “Okay, never mind, we can’t walk you home. Our manager got intel that the press is looking for us in the lobby—the three of us. They saw you in the pictures and now they want to know who you are.” Suguru got on one knee in front of you so that he would be at eye-level. He took both your hands in his and said, “I’m sorry.”

idol!satoru who immediately realizes that means you have to stay with them. “So that means you have to stay with us princess!” He happily states, “But– but maybe the pictures aren’t clear enough! I could sneak past the press and–” you were cut off by your own self as your gaze fell on Suguru, still on his knee holding both your hands.

idol!suguru who sweet-talks you into staying with them. “We’d feel much better if we know you’re safe here with us. Some fans can get crazy y’know.” Suguru spoke as he looked into your eyes. He really wanted to give off that yearning vibe. Which again begs the question, why were they so keen on helping you?

“Okay.. I’ll stay..” you hesitantly replied.

idol!satoru who then steals you from Suguru by hugging you tightly. “Great choice princess!” He was so happy, it was contagious. The both of them didn’t even mention being idols they just talked about their manager as if they had normal jobs. That was until Satoru decided to be cocky about it, “Y’know princess, most fans would’ve said yes immediately! Are you perhaps not a fan? Or even—a hater?!” He said dramatically.

idol!suguru who has a scowl on his face because Satoru stole you and because of Satoru’s question. “That’s none of our business Satoru.” He scolded his friend. Satoru only laughed in return.

idol!satoru who speaks in the most dramatic way possible. “But we’re world-famous idols Suguru! Surely this cute little princess is one of our fans, right princess?”

Gojo Satoru—the Gojo Satoru looked at you confidently as he waited for your answer. It made you a bit nervous, “I– I am a fan! I just didn’t want to be a bother..” you replied. “Plus you can never be too sure about people, I can’t just trust you because you’re idols!” You then sighed at the irony of that statement, “but I did because there was no other choice.”

idols!satosugu who listened to you speak attentively. They were very touchy and loved being close to you. It’s like they lacked physical affection. Suguru in front of you and Satoru beside you, such a cute duo.

idol!satoru who is the whiniest man ever. “So you think we’re bad people? I thought you were better than that princess..” he pouted. “No I don’t! I’m just saying you can’t trust too easily!” Satoru only laughed as you tried to defend yourself. He hummed, sarcastically agreeing to your words as you finished.

“Okay princess, whatever you say.” He mocked as he pulled you onto his lap, embracing you by the waist.

idol!suguru who tries to keep his best friend tamed. “You’re too touchy with her Satoru.” To which Satoru replies with a pout. “But she likes it!” He whines, “don’t you princess?” You turn red at his words. Suguru only sighs, he holds your hand, hoping you aren’t done with them. He just wants to help you.

idol!satoru who knows no personal space and props his chin on your shoulder as he continued to hug your waist from behind.

idol!suguru who rested his head on your lap, tired. At this point he didn’t bother telling Satoru off. He was just reduced to a big sleepy man.

idols!satosugu who were now all over you, both derived of physical affection. You couldn’t escape the idols now.

Comment 🪩 to be on my taglist !

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cheapshrimpysheep · 1 year

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Slide With Me

SUMMARY: Before returning to NRC you show curiosity to know what it's like to ride one of those racing sleds. All the boys offer to show you, inviting you to slide with them. You just need to choose with one you'd like to slide with.

CHARACTERS: Jade Leech, Idia Shroud, Sebek Zigvolt & Epel Felmier

TAGS: Fluf; GN Reader (reader is taller than Epel and shorter than the other three... because so am I ...)

WORD COUNT: An average of 380 words per character.

COMMENTS: I wanted to do something with the Harveston Sledathon theme. Taking advantage of the fact that it finally came on the eng server. And I thought that I would love for them to take me on a ride. I hope you enjoy ;)

Are you sure you want to choose him? Because Octavinelle's boys don't do anything without a deal. Maybe you made one with him without even realizing. Considering how smooth he is with words. Or maybe he'll remind you of this favour he did you when he asks you to accompany him on a hike up a mountain and you hesitate to say yes.

“You should go on front of me.” He will tell you “It will be easier to keep you safe if I am able to see you and if I have my arms by your side. That and, I am sure I'll assume correctly that you would like to enjoy the view.”

When cornering, you'll probably lose your balance and bump in his arms. And feel them around you without taking the hands off the handlebar, like a seat belt. “Are you well?” He’ll check. “Don't fret.I am able to keep my attention both on the mountain and on you. Fu fu.”

“Would you also be interested to know what it's like to jump over a ravine?” He will ask you if you’re having fun.

If you say no or your no sure: “This might be your only chance, you know? And I already jumped it once. I can assure your safety. I would never let you get hurt.” And if you still keep saying no: “*Sigh* Your lack of trust hurts me.” Not really. “But I'll respect your wishes.” He secretly enjoys messing up with you, especially when your afraid of something. But he won't go any further than teasing you.

If you say yes or you were not sure but decided to trust him on this: “Fu fu, I'll make sure you don't regret your decision.” He’ll tell you, amused. He loves it when your down for crazy things. He would get even closer to you, his abdomen on your lower back and his chest on your shoulders and head. If his arms were your seat belt, his torso was the back of your chair. He will not let you get hurt.

His stuffed deer will shameless asking you for petting after the ride. It gently bumps its head on your hip, as if trying to poke you with its rods, but since these are plush they bend when they go against you. “I thinks this is its way of asking for payment for the ride.” Jade deduces.

HIM? Why are you choosing him? He just offered to be polite, you know? Or at least that what he want everybody to think.

When you guys get far enough away from the others, as you get ready to start the ride: “Don't think I don't know why you chose me.” He tells you. But despite your little blush: “You chose me because I have the best racing plush. Smart move.”

“What, no! I choose you for you!” You realize you haven't spoken in your head and cover your mouth with your gloved hand. Both your cheeks and the ends of Idia's hair turned pink. “Y-your bear. Yes, I choose you for your bear, you're right!” You say completely unconvincing. “Should we start the ride now?” Idia nods, embarrassed and flattered at the same time, and finishes preparing the sleigh.

He will suggest you to go in front of him. Since he's the tallest and the expert (although he's only been doing this for a day or two) the safest formation is for the noob going on front of him. What? This is his way to say he cares about you. He doesn't care for other noobs. “Are you sulking because I'm calling you a noob? But you are. Fine, fine, I'll stop.”

He will not go to hard on you. He knows going to hard on a player that is just starting would make them hate a game they could love. The same with the ride. Both are supposed to be fun.

When cornering, you'll probably lose your balance and bump in his arms. And hear one of his "Hiep!" while he tries to protect you with his arms without taking the hands off the handlebar. You know when you almost drop your phone and suddenly realize how precious it is to you? That’s what that "Hiep!" meant.

If you want to go faster, he'll be happy to speed up. He knows that feeling. When you're liking a game so much you want to try the next difficulty. But he will NOT jump over that ravine again. Are you crazy?

His stuffed bear is shy but, after the ride, it will come close to you and nudge your hand with his nose to ask for petting.

HA! Of course you would choose him! Why choose a human... or merman turned into human, when one of your options is a (half) fay young man train by none other than Lilia Vanrouge to be a body-guard of none other than the Greates Malleus Draconia? Looks like your not dumb for a human.

“I hope you are up for the ride, human.” He’ll tell you with his smug smile “But nonetheless you should go on the front. It will be safer. That way, if your weak hands slip off the handlebar you will not pass through me.”

When cornering, you'll probably lose your balance and bump in his arms. But you'll realize he's not just using his arms to protect you. He's practically embrace you like the bodyguard he is protecting you from any danger that may come towards you. Despite his smug attitude, deep down he is taking his job of protecting you during the ride as serious as if he was protecting Malleus himself.

If he hears your laughs of fun during the ride, he will smile (since you can't see him), happy that you're having such fun with him. He'll not admit he was also having fun with you.

If you ask him if you two could jump the ravine like they did in the race, he’ll be surprised but say: “Ha Ha Ha! You sure have a dangerous amount of courage for your own good. Are you sure you can handle such thing, human?” you confirm “So get ready, because now I will not back down! And neither will I allowed you to!”

Don't be surprised if he ends up taking one of his hands off the handlebar to wrap it around your waist and make sure you don't come off the sled. The other arm exerting as much force to stay steady as when he trains with heavy weights.

After the ride, Squirshie will come up to you and stick out his chest as if proud of his work during the ride. It reminded you of Grim for a moment. When you bend down and pat him on the head, he recoils. To then approach again as if asking you to do that again.

YES! You choose him! Um... I mean, of course you choose him. after all, he is the most experienced at sledding. He he.

“I'm so happy you interested in sledding.” He'll tell you as you two approach his sleigh to prepare for the ride. “Despite the tension because of the race,I'm glad we still could show you how fun it is. I'm gonna give you the ride of your life!"

It will hurt his pride, but he will tell you to go behind him since you're taller. Your safety is way more important than his pride. “You must firmly grip the handlebar. But, um, you know, if you feel safer holding on to me, feel free to do so.”

If you choose to holding on to him, please don't mention the fact that his heart feels like is racing the Harveston Sledathon all over again.

When cornering, you'll probably lose your balance and and cling even tighter to him. This is the closest you've ever been to each other. Your chin is probably on his shoulder by now. “You’re okay?” he will ask whenever he feels you tighter your embrace. But don't think he isn't blushing every time this happens.

He'll ask if you want to jump the ravine. If you say no: “He he he. Don't worry. I was just kidding.”

If you say yes: “WHA-?! I was joking!” if you say you were joking as well, he will sigh with relief. If you say that now you want to do it. He'll need a minute to think about it. The last thing he wants is to put you in danger. But he understands you. In your position he would probably ask for the same thing. “Okay, if you really want to do this DO NOT let go of me! Don't even worry if you're hurting me. Hold on the tightest you can if you need, okay?”

Truth be told, he’s loving it! That shows how much you trust him to keep you safe even on a dangerous thing like that. And he won't let you doubt for a second that he won't be able to!

After the ride, his stuffed rabbit will start bouncing around you and wagging his little tail. And for some reason, I imagine if you pet him, he'll start tapping one of his hind legs on the ground. Like Thumper from Bambi. “Well that's new.” Epel will say, surprised.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

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yikesmary · 11 months

Text

TWO: LIVE IN BOYFRIEND — choi seungcheol x reader

summary: when you have to get used to choi seungcheol as your roommate and fake boyfriend.

notes: thank you guys for all the love you guys gave the first (technically first even if it’s not labeled as the first?) part of what I guess is becoming a series? depending on if I get ideas or not, uploading parts to this series may or may not take long. ill also be accepting ideas for the stories if you guys have any ideas!

btw this chapter focuses more on the contrast of how you and Seungcheol started as people who agreed to fake date vs how you guys will act now. you guys are still fake dating but to people it's very real because you guys act the part.

i'm still accepting requests if you guys have them! it can be for this series or for a one shot, just send an ask.

join my taglist!

previous / next

"We need to discuss some ground rules," You said as you and Seungcheol walked around the mall, finding stores to browse through.

"What ground rules do we need? I live with you, and I pretend to be your boyfriend," he said.

"How did we meet? Who asked who out? Where was our first date? Do we let people know we're living together? How long do we say we're together?" You listed out, counting off with your fingers.

"Don't you have a class with Wonwoo?" Seungcheol suddenly asked.

"Jeon Wonwoo? Yeah, I do. Why do you know that?" you asked.

"We say that Wonwoo introduced us and we were friends for a while. I wanted to ask you out but you beat me to it. Our first date was me teaching you basketball, and it was not pretty." He teased.

"How'd you know I'm bad at basketball?" you questioned.

"I mean, when you nearly died after choking on noodles, I guessed you aren't the most graceful," he joked.

You rolled your eyes and hit him lightly on the shoulder. Spotting a store you wanted to go to, you grabbed Seungcheol's forearm and dragged him with you.

"Anyways, we should let people know we're living together. It tells people we're serious and your ex he's a jackass for breaking up with you the way he did," he said, grabbing a shirt and showing it to you to look at.

Nodding in approval, you grabbed the shirt and continued to look through the racks. "Besides creating a story of our relationship, we make other rules,"

"Like?"

You grabbed a few more items before going in line for the cashier. Counting how much money you had, you realized you had to return a few things. You tried walking out of a line but Seungcheol stopped you and shook his head.

"Like don't fall in love with each other," you said, and he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"We're not gonna fall in love with each other," Seungcheol said.

Once you guys were the next people in line, the cashier started scanning all of the items. Moving to pay, you stopped once you realized that Seungcheol already had his card out and was on his way to pay.

"You didn't have to do that," you told him.

"Think of it as a present. From one roommate to the other," he said.

"Anyways, what were you saying about not falling in love with each other?"

"Have you seen every movie that involves fake dating? The two main protagonists always fall in love without knowing!"

"Those are movies, this is real life,"

When you exited the store, you turned to face him. "How about we just agree to stay friends?"

"Just friends,"

"I'm home!" You called out, putting your keys in the bowl that Seungcheol put after you lost your keys and had to use his for the 3rd time.

When you entered the living room, you saw that your living room was filled with both yours and Seungcheol's friends sitting at every possible chair. "Hello Cheol and everyone who doesn't live here," you greeted.

"How was your nail appointment?" Seungcheol asked and you smiled and walked towards him to hold up your nails to show him.

He took your hands and observed them, "you chose the color I suggested," he said.

You shrugged, "I didn't have any other color ideas and it looked pretty,"

"Now, tell me, why are there twelve of our friends in our apartment when they don't live here?" you questioned.

"We didn't have any food!" Jeonghan interjected.

As if practiced, the sound of Minghao drinking a cup of tea and Jun eating something crunchy filled the room. Jihoon then opened a bag of candy, which caught the attention of others and they grabbed handfuls from the bag.

"And you finish all of ours?!" You jokingly shouted.

"You guys are supposed to go grocery shopping anyways," Seungkwan pointed out.

"Can you guys get more chips? You guys ran out of the ones I like," Vernon said with a mouthful of the chips as mentioned earlier.

"And soda!" Chan exclaimed.

"You tell me the word and I'll kick all of them out," Seungcheol offered.

Ignoring all of the shouted protests from your friends, you shook your head, "It's fine as long as Mingyu's cooking,"

Everyone in the room turned to Mingyu, who sighed and stood up to go to the kitchen. "Don't make a mess of our kitchen or else!" You called out.

"How about you change into comfortable clothes and I'll make these idiots decide on a movie," Seungcheol said.

"Nothing that's too scary or else Seokmin and Soonyoung will have nightmares," you reminded him.

"I don't think they'll get nightmares—" Joshua started saying, but a stern look from you cut him off.

"They'll get nightmares, nevermind," he backtracked.

"You make us sound like kids!" Soonyoung said.

"It's cause you are," Wonwoo commented.

"This is like a daycare," you muttered.

"Go change. I managed to get your favorite snacks away from the guys," Seungcheol told you.

You smiled at him before going to your room to change like you originally planned to.

Maybe this fake dating thing was going better than you thought it was going to.

#seventeen fluff #seungcheol fluff #choi seungcheol fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #scoups x reader #scoups fluff #choi seungcheol x reader #seventeen scenarios #svt x reader #scoups fic #seungcheol fic #scoups scenario #scoups imagines #seventeen scoups

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captain-mj · 3 months

Text

Wrote this at a laundromat so I hope you guys like it

Ghost had just moved to Scotland to get away from everything. His family's murders stayed a constant thought in his mind, but more than that, he didn't want anyone still loyal to Roba to find him. After wiping them off the map, he decided to do something he never thought possible.

Chose himself.

So he made his way to Scotland where no one would know Simon Riley and he bought a house and lived next to a small town so he could go over and get whatever supplies he needed before coming to hide again.

That's where he met him.

A local man who apparently was involved in the church and was in general a great person.. Most people referred to him as Soap, which Ghost thought was a very strange name, but he had also heard MacTavish which seemed more realistic.

The man saw Ghost, probably decided he was emotionally vulnerable, and decided to skulk around him. He asked, begged, pleading for Ghost to join his congregation.

Ghost turned him down each time, though he did love to see a pretty man beg. Once, he lifted lifted his mask, let him see the Glasgow smile cut into his cheeks. He hoped that Soap would assume gang member or miscreant and leave him alone, but it seemed to spur him on.

Soap MacTavish, savior of big buff men. Patron saint of being annoying.

Ghost started... watching him. The way he moved. His smile, just a little too wide with teeth a little too sharp.

He was... handsome. Seemingly kind. But Ghost was like a stray. He didn't trust affection and he wanted to keep it that way. No matter how honeyed Soap made his words or how kind the scraps he offered. Something about the man was unsettling.

Soap simply knocked on his door one day at dusk. Ghost only answered when he had his mask on. He had some kind of food in containers. "Hey! Several people I know made me these and gifted them to me, but I don't think I'll be able to eat all they gave me. Thought you might appreciate them. I know I'd be homesick, in such a new area."

Ghost stared at him, hands itching. "How did you know where I lived?"

"i knew the people who lived here before. Laid them to rest myself. Saw their last rites and all that. No other empty house around for miles."

"Other people know...?"

"Doubt it. Most don't think of you too much." Soap sniffed, looking around. "I assumed that's what you'd prefer."

"It is. Thanks."

Soap smiled. "I'll keep it between us." He kept standing there. Just waiting.

"I'm not going to invite you inside."

Immediately, those soft lips turned into a pouty frown. "At least take the desserts. I really do have no use for them."

Ghost didn't want to disappoint him for some reason, so he awkwardly took the food. "Okay. Address between us right?"

"Of course. With God as my witness." Soap grinned and left.

If Ghost would've thought about it, he'd made him promise to never come back as well. But he did not do that.

He went into his kitchen and opened the container.

Cranachan. Ghost had heard of it. The King of Scottish Desserts.

He grabbed a spoon and brought a bite to his mouth slowly. There was a thick cream with oats and raspberries. When he put a bite in his mouth, he could taste the honey and whiskey.

It was so good.

Ghost dug in on his couch. He was pretty sure this was supposed to be something he'd eat off for a few days, but he devoured all of it in one sitting. There was more of the raspberries sauce and Ghost found himself licking it from his fingers. A warmth settled in his chest from it.

Maybe Soap wasn't terrible.

Ghost got ready to start his routine of checking all of the windows and doors, but his couch suddenly felt so comfy. He felt his eyes start to close, the warmth spreading more.

For the first time since being a kid, Ghost slept all the way through the night with no nightmares.

Ghost cleaned up from the night before, feeling comfy. He noticed one of his windows was unlocked and chided himself for being so forgetful. After two sweeps of the house, he was sure no one was in his house and nothing was missing.

The dishes sat on the counter, suddenly suspicious. The idea of there being something in it was preposterous.

Ghost cleaned the dishes. "He's a fucking poster boy for good. You're being paranoid."

As time went on, he noticed things. Always on his porch or right outside. Tapping or animal noises or sometimes visions of someone right outside. The wonderful night of sleep was the last time he slept for a while.

Soap showed up again. A cross necklace Ghost couldn't remember seeing was around his neck. He looked apologetic as he had more of the delicious treat. "Sorry. It's raspberry season so everyone is making it and... well... I don't really have much of a sweet tooth."

Ghost looked at him coldly. "And you're bringing it to me? No orphans to give it to? Children to target?"

It was the first time Soap had looked upset at him. Ghost was a military man. He dealt with that constantly back in his troop. But for some reason, Soap's unhappiness got under his skin.

"No, Ghost. I just... thought you might be feeling lonely. Ya probably think I'm naive. Small town guy, always trying to talk to you..." He looked embarrassed. "Never met someone from Manchester. And before you ask, I figured it out by your accent."

Ghost looked at him for a few minutes before looking away to pretend he wasn't affected by him. "I don't."

"Gotcha... I can just... take the food."

"No. I'll still take that." Ghost quickly grabbed the home made food, noticing Soap's flash of a smile. He bit his lip as he cradled the food. "Look, I'm not a good guy. Definitely not someone you need around you."

Soap looked at him sadly. "Even outside of my faith, I still think all people deserve someone. I just... want to try to make you feel less lonely."

Ghost sighed. "Alright. Come in."

Soap got so excited. He carefully walked inside and glanced around, moving his weight back and forth between each foot.

Ghost sat on the chair he had. "Haven't exactly bought much furniture. But you're allowed to get comfy."

Soap grabbed the couch and smiled brightly. There was something about him. He looked at him and his eyes... had a shimmer to it.

Ghost paused, holding the bowl.

"Are you going to put it away? Or eat it right now?" Soap asked conversationally. He batted his eyelashes.

Ghost gnawed on the inside of his cheek. "Gonna put it away for now."

"I see. Have you been sleeping well? This place seems... so isolated. I don't think I could ever quite get a good sleep."

Ghost couldn't think of a good answer besides the truth. "Sleep has never came easy to me."

Soap frowned, batting his eyelashes at him. "I'm sorry. I hope it gets easier for you." He seemed so genuine. So sweet.

Ghost shrugged. "Thank you..."

They started to slip into rather easy banter, but he found his eyes getting heavier.

Soap got up and picked his way over. For a moment, Ghost was afraid. He almost lashed out, afraid. But he didn't touch him. He leaned in, eyes glowing against the backdrop of everything around them. "Sleep well, Ghost."

Ghost fell asleep on his chair. Soap locked the door on the way out but he didn't lock the windows.

Ghost found Tommy's photo album and went through them. He looked at the various photos of him and his family and he found himself missing them again. They looked so cute. So perfect. He left them on his coffee table, messy and covering every inch.

Joseph looked up at him, bright smiling face.

Simon was holding him. Blond curls that he spent too much time keeping bleached. No scarring.

He felt like he was going crazy as things... moved around his house. Things moved right out of the corner of his eyes. So he started preparing.

Guns were tucked into every hiding place he could. Knives even more so. He started to work out again for the first time in a few weeks. Luckily he hadn't lost too much of his physique.

Ghost eventually found himself eating the cranachan. He slept well. It was unsettling.

Right before dawn, Soap arrived at his house. The clouds were churning together but there was still some sunlight streaming through. "I brought coffee. Are you a coffee person?"

Ghost wasn't usually, but rather than deal with Soap's sad look again, he took the drink. He sipped it and found himself pleasantly surprised at how good it was.

Soap smiled. "Have any plans?"

"Gonna make breakfast... wanna join?" Why did he say that??

Soap smiled and quickly walked in. "I'd love to."

Ghost started to cook. He had been trying to learn more cooking lately so hopefully it wasn't too bad.

Soap looked thankful when he set it down and started to eat. They did so in basically silence. The cross necklace kept catching the light so he kept staring at it. When he lifted his gaze to look at his eyes, they made direct eye contact.

Soap's eyes. They were so dark. Like a shark.

Ghost felt for the gun under his side table. He tried to keep up conversation.

"Don't grab that gun, Simon."

Ghost paused what he was doing, watching the cross necklace sway where it sat. "What?"

Soap sighed. "Don't be like that. The gun your hand is on. Don't grab it." His nails clicked against the table. Too long. Too alarming. "Be a good boy, Simon."

Ghost stared at him, debating what could be done here.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"What are you?"

"Not a danger to you." Soap answers a little pedantically. "I promise." His canines. They were long and curved.

Ghost glanced at the coffee. "You were drugging me."

Soap hummed. "No. More of a... side effect of my presence. You feeling anything right now?"

Ghost could feel something tugging at the edge of his consciousness but nothing too severe. "What do you want?"

Soap swallowed. "I'm hungry. Starving."

"You saw me up here. Being vulnerable. And decided you could fuc-"

"No. Not quite. I... I know you could keep a secret."

Ghost blinked, realizing the situation. "You're... asking."

Soap looked pained. "I am. A... deal. I keep everyone away. Tell them whatever I need so they leave you alone and I get to..." His eyes trailed to Ghost's throat.

"How bad is the feeding?"

"Not bad! I take about as much blood as a blood donation. Easy peasy. I'll even bring you food for recovery just please..."

Ghost undid the top button of his shirt and Soap looked ready to wiggle out of his seat. The poor man was salivating.

Why was he doing this?

it was stupid.

Idiotic.

Self-sacrificing.

The mask hit the table.

"Go for it."

Soap leapt over the table and sat in his lap. Teeth sank into his throat as he held him, holding him tight. They pressed together and Ghost could feel the unsettling chill that came from Soap.

He grabbed the table, almost white knuckling it.

Pain radiated from where he was being stabbed into and he felt himself go lightheaded. Soap's ass was pressed firmly to his lap though and it felt...

pleasurable.

Slowly he sank into it, feeling Soap take his fill.

His pretty boy thanked him, lips bright red from blood. "Thank you. Thank you. You're perfect. My angel from heaven."

Their lips touched and Ghost groaned softly.

Soap panted in his ear. "I'll be good. Promise. Take care of you." His claws sank into Ghost who was wondering how bad the situation he landed himself was.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #cod #soapghost #ghoap

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rkvriki · 1 year

Text

things enha does for you !

hey guys!!! after tha one last fic im back to soft content lolz. i got this idea when i was in class so excuse me if its crappy tho! this one is a lil smoll :')

make sure to leave feedback. my requests are open and so is my talk box so let's talk!

WARNINGS ! undertones of being naked and sunoo watching its all sfw so dont worry!! might contain grammar errors!

word count: 1k

LEE HEESEUNG !

— makes you homemade gifts

heeseung is pretty good at everything, so once in his life decides to make good use of it outside of his job.

heeseung loves giving you gifts, most of them expensive pieces of clothing or even random plushies he wins when he goes to the arcade with the other boys, but is there anything more meaningful than a gift he made himself?

he makes so many handmade things but his favorite thing to do is scrap books. he tries to collect his favorite pics with you every month and he puts them in a scrapbook with cute and sweet handwritten messages.

he loves seeing your wide smile as you scan every picture he chose, remembering each day like it was yesterday.

PARK JONGSEONG !

— leaves you notes or flowers

he does this almost everyday or at least when he stays over at yours and he even has special cute and decorated post its just for you :’)

sometimes he will notice that you might be feeling a little more down or stressed with school/work so he waits for you to fall asleep before he leaves after writing a heartfelt note and sticking it somewhere he knows you’ll see it.

or sometimes jay just feels like treating you nicely so he sends your favorite flowers with a postcard to your house or office.

it all just makes you feel so giddy and soft on the inside, you love how much he shows affection to you in all kinds of ways.

SIM JAKE !

— is present in the most important moments

being from abroad is hard and jake knows that because he also came from a different country, so when knows his s/o isn’t from korea he tries to make up for the fact you don’t have anyone like family members around to supporto you.

when you have important presentations he will be in the audience cheering for you with the biggest smile on his face.

most of the times he does this are surprises, you never know when to expect seeing him there and you would bawl your eyes out if you weren’t in front of so many people.

when you have your first job interview he will take you to where it’s going to take place and he will wait outside and when you come out will tell you that you did good no matter what results are gonna be.

PARK SUNGHOON !

— writes you letters expressing himself

i feel like sunghoon is really shy when it comes to expressing his feelings, although it doesn’t stop him from telling you he loves you every day.

every week he writes you a letter in neat and pretty handwriting, sometimes just telling you how he is feeling lately, other times talking about how much he loves you and how afraid he is of losing you.

he puts every feeling there is in him in the paper, always writing you more than one sheet of paper. After you read all of them you alway call him and you both talk about it, which makes him shy and his ears turn red.

you keep every letter in a box in a place only you and him know and you always read them when you miss him when he’s away.

KIM SUNOO !

— prepares you a spa day/bath

we all know sunoo is all about self care with all the skin care he does and the vitamins he takes and now it’s also a habit of yours thanks to him.

he loves taking care of you when he feels like you aren’t doing it, unable to do it either from stress or just being busy with your life.

when those situations happen, he never fails to surprise you when you come home with a warm bubbly bath in your bathroom, now candle lit.

he asks you to get in the tub as he leaves to get you more things.

he comes back with a huge variety of skin care for you to choose and prepares you your favorite light drink.

when you come out of the shower he will have you laying in the bed and will give the best back massage you’ll ever get, breaking all the knots in you, finishing off with kisses all over your back and face making you giggle.

YANG JUNGWON !

— takes time to celebrate important dates

jungwon loves planning things for you, especially your birthday. even though it makes him wanna rip his hair off he makes all the efforts to make it the best birthday party you could ever have.

literally no one can talk to him during the weeks he is planning it because he is so stressed that he will snap at someone unintentionally (he apologizes later, poor won)

he will plan it almost a month earlier to make sure everything is perfect. he look for the best bakeries around and tries to find the best rooftop to have the party.

he contacts every single one of your friends trying not to forget to invite anyone.

then the worts part comes, the present to give you. jungwon knows so much about you, almost every little detail, but one thing he doesn’t know is what to give you in your birthday, even if you reassure him he is the best present >-<

all the stress his worthy when he sees your teary eyes smile at the big party.

NISHIMURA RIKI !

— spends quality time with you

being an idol takes a lot of someone’s time and niki tries to use every second he had of free time to be with you since he’s always in and out of the country and he knows you hate being alone.

niki takes you everywhere you possibly can go. you go hiking, you go to amusement parks, to the movies, trying out restaurants, just anywhere.

he’s always up to try new things with you and sometimes he might bring the other boys along or you bring your friends, but it’s very rare to happen.

he always takes his digital camera, taking pictures of you when you aren’t looking, which he ends up showing you making you complain of how bad you look and he just glares at you.

sometimes you just go to quiet places and enjoy each other presence, like going to parks in the middle of the nowhere, where it’s just the two of you being two fools in love.

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kanmom51 · 5 days

Note

https://twitter.com/parkjmwins/status/1782358915939774874

Idk whether you will even answer this ask or will block me but this is exactly why JK had similar concept pics like Jimin. Jikookers made it to be romantic while Fandom made it to a joke 'JK always copy Jimin' (ofcourse). I've seen you making multiple posts about Jikook concept pics being match is a proof of them being a couple when in reality Hybe don't even take permission of original artist before using their ideas for another. One hybe label just got into trouble for copying newjeans and according to CEO min heejin it was BANG SHIHYUK who wanted to copy newjeans to create a second version of them through illit. And guess what he made sure illit gets 10x more success than newjeans, a 2 day song was already charting in different charts including hot 100. The same bang shihyuk who ignored every bit of Jimin's success but shamelessly copied his ideas and visions of concept pics for another favorite member. He shamelessly asks staffs to copy original ideas of artists who created them and use them for a cheap version of the said artist, Newjeans and Jimin are just examples.

Was it JK's fault ? Not necessarily but unlike rookie Illit he had power and capability to make his own decisions and use his own visions instead of doing what he was asked to do by the staff (his words) but he didn't and sat comfortably while using another person's hardwork. If you still think those similarities were because they were couple then idk what to say because in that logic Newjeans girls and Illit girls are dating.

Talk about TikTok generation ask.

Linking me to a tweet that has zero actual information and/or proper discussion, just stating a fact that isn't necessarily even a fact. Ignoring the full picture (like y'all do when it comes to Jikook as well, btw).

And I also find it so so funny how you are basically hanging your all on something that a very problematic figure within the Kpop industry is claiming, all to try and deflect from despicable behaviour she's being accused of, including using and revealing private info of Hybe idols obtained in illegal and despicable manors, perhaps including having to do with certain private info leaking of certain BTS members (including the one person that you so vehemently claim to love and stand in defense of).

You think that by sending me this link you are proving something?

You say that you read through my posts. Well, obviously you've missed those many posts I've written explaining how JM and JK being a couple can be deducted not from one action or one behaviour alone, but the combination of many many actions or behaviours. A puzzle built of not 10 or 50 or 100 pieces, but one built of so many many more.

I find it funny how with everything that has been going on with JM and JK you guys are still at this.

We're back to JK copying JM.

Like seriously.

Like even if the whole NJ Illit thing was true there was some kind of a comparison to be made with these two men.

Like JK, who's album concept is 180 degrees different than JM's doesn't have stylists at his beck and call to create a concept that isn't a full on copy of JM's. Right down to the studs and colours and minutiae details of some of the outfits.

Like if he did copy JM, that same scorned poor JM (that's how you guys love to portray him, as a damsel in distress awaiting you to swoop in and save him) CHOSE to fly to NY to be with JK and spend Silver day there with him, travel with him multiple times and spend his entire 18 months in the army with that awful copy cat JK.

Your ask tells me that you have zero understanding in human interactions and relationships. JM saying time and time again, JOKING time and time again, about JK copying him, it's a tease but also something that he LOVES. How he inspires JK, how JK perceives him as his catalyst.

But this here, the photo concepts and the whole of JK's wardrobe while promoting, claiming it's all about copying JM is just bull crap. This was planned. And it was planned by the two of them. It's not a coincidence that JM happens to wear the bottom part of a two piece outfit months before JK wears the top part of the same exact outfit.

And if we are talking about copying, is it the concept he's copying or is he so far gone that he's literally copying down to the smallest of details?

Like seriously. You think that's about copying JM?

Or because it worked for JM so he thinks it will work for him? Literally same hairstyle rocking as JM had in Face? Cause why not use a concept that works? Seriously? JK's all "I should do this cause it worked for JM so it will work for me"?

Was that what he was thinking when he rocked a highlight of JM's hair colour over the years? That the colour works for JM so I should have a strand of that colour in my hair as well, copying his success? Is that the theory you're working with?

Or when JK wore the same jacket as JM on Valentines day, you know, in a clip that JM himself records and uploads, that JK also copying JM?

Babe, this isn't just about the concept pics either. And it's not just about Face and Seven or Golden. Wearing the actual same black leather or leather-like pants just because he couldn't find any other pants? That level of copying? Or perhaps it wasn't about copying and more about mirroring.

About "You are me I am you", which they have been screaming at the top of their lungs for years now!!!

It amazes me how you have zero issue in taking an over decade long complex super close relationship (no matter how you perceive it they are super close) and simplifying it into "JK copied JM's concept because JM's concept worked for him", or to even compare whatever went on with JK and JM and those similarities to a claim made (by a disgruntled and caught red handed employee of Hybe) about one new GG copying concepts and whatever from a GG that's been around for 2 years now. No connection between them. No long term relationships between the groups. One group supposedly copying from another. Yeah, definitely the comparison needed to be made between that and Jikook's behaviours or decision making.

How infantile of you.

Oh and that paragraph of yours at the end. Laughable really.

Like I already said, go compare 2 GGs in two different companies to 2 men that have been close for over 10 years now. And let's also disregard the long history of those two doing the similar and same outfit (during official shoots, performances etc, or during their free time) thing and look at this one single concept.

Probably styled (funny how the styling seems to be similar for years now on many occasions, and just with the two of them)

Not styled.

These are just examples of MANY MORE instances.

Oh, and I suggest you go read this post too. Not mine, but recently written and oh so relevant to the conversation.

I can't help but wonder how different your pov would have been if one of those two young men was a female. Just thought I would throw that in here too.

But I gotta give you an A for persistence. You guys, you never give up, do you? No matter what JK and JM will throw at you, you will find a way to twist it around to fit your narratives. I guess you also think that JM was forced into enlistment with JK, ah? And their trips together and the content that will drop, also forced on him? I guess him saying otherwise isn't enough to convince you guys either, right? I love the way how you guys are so intrenched in your belief of victimhood that you don't even listen to what JM himself tells you. You love him so much that basically call him a liar. Good for yous I guess.

So, to clarify my answer to you, just in case it wasn't as clear as day already...

You do you, cause nothing I tell you, or show you, or you know what? Nothing that even JM himself will tell you or show you will satisfy you. Because you are living in a self built fantasy of what and who JM is and what and who those that surround him are, all to fit that narrative of yours in which he needs you guys as his saviours and knights in shining armour to swoop in and save him from the big bad JK.

One more thing.

JM's Face was a masterpiece.

We all agree on that. JK included.

He adores JM, he's his no. 1 fan and he's been showing us this throughout 2023.

JK is not a person that would callously copy a concept used by a bandmate just because it succeeded for his bandmate and might work for him too.

Let alone from JM.

His person.

Not even if, as you put it, he was told to do so by the powers at be (which yeah, he'd tell to go shove it up their asses if they ever did 'tell' him to do that btw, and they wouldn't do it anyway seeing that they know that would be his exact reaction).

So, no.

That is my answer to you.

Just a whole big fat NOPE.

No to copying. And surprisingly no to blocking you.

Yet.

#Jikook #kookmin #minkook #jungkook #jk #jimin #jm

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withahappyrefrain · 2 years

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The Heat is On

Summary: When the AC goes out in your apartment, your roommate Peter reveals he knows more about you than you think. 18+

For @blooming-violets, who asked for "AC is out" trope with blonde asshole roommate Peter Parker for my 3K celebration

Moving to New York, you hoped you would finally get to experience more mild summers.

What a joke.

"When did Frank say it would be fixed?" You asked your roommate after removing your head from the fridge.

Without looking up from his phone, Peter remarked, "Hopefully tomorrow."

"Hopefully?!" You gawked. There was no way you could live like this for more than twenty- four hours.

"What? You're not enjoying the view?" Peter motioned to his bare chest. Lying on the couch, he was clad only in boxers.

You rolled your eyes, "You're right, I forgot what a show all six of your chest hairs are."

He put a hand over his heart, throwing his head back as if he had just been struck by an arrow shot by you, "Ouch. You know, people usually have to jump through a lot of hoops to see this."

"Oh, like go to frat parties and pretend your jokes are funny?" You opened the freezer to find several ice cubes. You grabbed them, the coolness feeling delightful in your hand.

"You should be a comedian," Peter remarked, rolling his eyes before he returned to his phone.

You made your way over to the chair that was across from your roommate. You pressed an ice cube against your neck, relishing in the small relief from the heat.

"It's inhumane to let people go more than three hours with no AC," you muttered.

"I'm not complaining about the view I'm getting," His brown eyes motioned to your figure that was clad in only a sports bra and athletic shorts.

You rolled your eyes and chose to ignore his comment.

Living with a frat guy was not on your bingo college card. But your original housing plan had fallen through, the place was well within your budget and you were desperate.

Despite looking like a walking stereotype, Peter was actually a decent roommate. He paid all his bills on time, did his dishes, and kept the parties at his brothers' places.

The only thing Peter would not shake, despite the countless people you both had brought home, was his comments about how attracted he found you. Sometimes you just shut it down, sometimes you ignored it, sometimes you came back with a snarky remark that silenced him.

Peter was attractive, there was no denying that. All your friends wondered how you two hadn't fucked yet.

"Easy. I don't fuck frat bros nor do I fuck my roommates," you would tell them.

But sometimes, it was hard. Especially when he looked at you with a gleam in those honeyed eyes. Or when he just woke up in the morning and his dyed hair was sticking up in every direction and his voice was even deeper.

Thankfully, an alert from your phone saved you from having to make any kind of comment.

"Who's texting you?" Peter asked without even looking up from his phone.

"Chris, telling him about our lack of AC." The name briefly brought a scowl to Peter's face. One that he quickly hid as soon as he felt it.

"The Econ major who can't find a shirt that fits to save his life?"

You looked up from your phone, a smirk forming, "I'm not complaining about his too tight shirts. They show off his pecs quite well."

Peter muttered something about increased gym time when you had an easy major.

You chose to ignore his comment, instead reading the text you've received.

Peter noticed how a small smile appeared on your face as your eyes scanned the message. He also noticed how quickly you got up to head back to your room.

And he definitely noticed the sundress you were wearing when you came out of your room twenty minutes later. Along with the fact you had combed your hair and put on some makeup.

"Where are you headed?" He asked, knowing the answer. Jealousy twisted through his stomach, bubbling up to his throat.

"Chris invited me over to hang out, said I could use his AC," you remarked as you slipped on your shoes.

Peter scoffed, "You do realize he's not wanting to hang out, right? Or that he's not offering you AC out of the goodness of his heart?"

You looked up, trying to read his face. The most annoying thing about Peter Parker was that he was impossible to read. Was he jealous? Or simply judging you?

"Peter, I'm not an idiot. I wouldn't have said yes if I didn't know what he wanted," You leaned forward, "I also wouldn't have gone without a bra."

His amber eyes darted to your chest, the tops of your breasts now exposed thanks to the sundress you had on, combined with you leaning forward.

He chewed his bottom lip, "So you're aware he's just trying to fuck you?"

"Maybe I want to fuck him," You retorted with as much confidence as you could muster.

The truth was that you weren't crazy about the dude. He wasn't bad. Chris was just fine.

But the heat was awful and you needed an out. And maybe this time, you could enjoy it.

Peter turned his attention back to his phone, shaking his head. It wasn't the heat that was making the air thick.

Normally he didn't comment on who you brought home. It was an unspoken rule you two had. You wouldn't judge him for who he brought home and vice versa. So long as they weren't a dick, didn't overstay their welcome, and you weren't super loud.

So why was this time any different?

"Let me know if the AC gets fixed," You said as you grabbed your purse. His eyes remained on his phone. Whatever had put him in a foul mood, you wanted no part of it and were glad to be leaving.

It wasn't until you headed towards the door that you heard his voice.

"Have fun faking another orgasm."

You stopped dead in your tracks, a flash of heat coursing through your body.

"Excuse me?" Was all you could get out as you turned around.

Peter was now standing, his arms crossed over his bare chest, a smirk now on his face.

"I said, have fun faking another orgasm," he repeated.

"I don't know what-"

Peter scoffed, "What, you're still trying to hide it? I thought it was one of those unspoken roommate things where we both knew what was going on. Like that spider bite I got back in high school."

Your fingers curled into a fist, "Parker, I don't know where the fuck you get the audacity but-"

"The walls here are thin. I know what you sound like when you touch yourself versus when you're with someone. There's a huge difference," He walked towards you.

"Though, I will say that you have gotten a lot better since we moved in. Last week, when you brought Chris over?" He brought his long fingers up to his lips, kissing them, "Probably your best performance to date."

"What I do in bed is none of your concern. Also are you listening to me?" You deflected. If you could pin it back to him, you could get out of this.

Sure, you could just leave. But then that would make it seem like he was right.

Peter was right. But you couldn't let him know that.

He was now inches away from you, his arms still crossed as he looked down. Every mark, mole, and scar were visible.

"Again, the walls are thin. Should probably keep your voice down when you use your vibrator," He bent his knees, now at your eye level, "Or don't. You sound really pretty when you moan."

The grip you had on your keys was so tight, the metal was digging into your skin. You didn't care. All you cared about was trying to put on a brave face in front of Peter.

"Has anyone actually made you come while they fucked you?" He asked.

"Why the fuck do you care?" You gritted between your teeth.

Peter leaned in, which made you realize you had never been this close to him before. He didn’t smell like cheap body wash and bleach. Instead, the scent of spicy cinnamon flooded your nostrils.

It was the only pleasant thing about this whole ordeal.

“Well, based on what I’ve heard when you touch yourself, I think you’d sound even prettier coming apart with an actual cock inside you, rather than that dildo you use.”

The way he said it so casually with that smirk and a gleam in those amber eyes was infuriating. At least, it should have been.

You felt heat all over your body and it wasn't from the lack of cool air.

"What do you want Peter? You want me to admit it? Fine," you spat, "No, I've never come while actually getting fucked. You happy?"

He shook his head, "Actually I think it's a shame."

You rolled your eyes, "and what? You want to fix it?"

His lips were now inches away from yours, "If you want me to."

Peter's fingers ghosted over your bare arm, the tips of his calloused fingers brushing over your soft skin. They trailed upwards to your shoulder, moving to your neck.

"And what if you can't make me?"

"Then I'll cover utilities for the next three months." His eyes were on your body, his fingers now brushing over the pulse on your neck.

"With what money?" You stammered. The longer you could draw it out, the more time you had to avoid thinking about what your bleached blonde roommate was offering.

"New York's favorite friendly neighborhood Spider has some new pictures out." He explained, the smirk remaining on his face, his hand now firmly on the back of your neck.

Your eyes trailed down his bare chest to his hips. A smattering of dark hair trailed down his stomach, going below the waistband of his grey boxers. Your eyes widened at the sight of a now prominent bulge that was creating a clear outline in his boxers.

He was getting turned on by this. That fucker.

Before you could say anything, pressure was applied to your throat, forcing you to look up into Peter's eyes.

"So you do like being choked," He muttered.

"Don't lie. I can smell you," Peter said in response to your attempt to shake your head.

"So what do you say? Want to see if I can make you come with my cock?"

You heard the men and women he brought home. The walls were thin. You didn't hate how loud they would get because it kept you awake.

You hated it because they were enjoying it immensely. They always came. You wanted that, wanted to know what it felt like.

Plus, your lease would be up in a few months anyways.

"Fine, let's see if all the folks you brought home are better actors than me," You spat.

Peter chuckled, "You're so cute when you act tough."

He brought his other hand up to cup your face before sealing his lips onto yours.

It was gentle at first, which surprised you. His lips were soft, probably from the chapstick of yours that he keeps stealing.

The kiss was sweet. Something you knew was possible for Peter, but didn't expect to see it in the way his lips moved against yours.

Peter used his hands to tilt your head up, deepening the kiss. His tongue darted out, your lips parting without even thinking.

He was a good kisser, you could admit that to yourself.

Not to his face though. Peter Parker didn't deserve that satisfaction. He didn't deserve to know that he wasn't the only one who listened through that thin wall, picking up on how the other sounded when they moaned.

Be it due to pride or fear, he couldn't know.

"Thought you were going to fuck me," You said, taking a step back to lean against the wall.

"Do none of the guys you fuck do foreplay?" He's walking towards you with such focus, it makes your thighs clench.

"Foreplay would be like you going down on me, I thought you knew that."

"If you want me to go down on you, just say it." He's leaning forward, his lips brushing over the exposed skin of your collarbone.

"I already told you that you could fuck me," You mumbled. He looks up, his eyes on you. They're soft now, gone is the mischievous glint.

"I only want to do what you're comfortable with. But I'm not a fucking mind reader, you need to actually say it."

"You just want to hear it." You looked down, avoiding Peter's gaze.

"I want to make you feel good. Just say the word." You looked back up at him. His whole expression had softened, which you hated.

You were familiar with the smirks, the quippy one liners. Those were easy to deflect with an eye roll or snarky comment.

"Why are you doing this Parker?" Your voice was now barely a whisper.

"Have I not made it obvious that I like you?"

He looked genuinely confused, as if it was as clear as the sun rising and setting every day.

"Y-you're just flirting, like you do with everyone-"

"That's a fucking lie and you know it. You're the only person I've introduced to my Aunt and I tell you shit I haven't told anyone else. You're the one who keeps brushing it off like it's nothing." Peter sunk down until he was on his knees, both his hands gripping your thighs.

"So why don't you be a big girl and tell me whether or not you want me to eat you out? It's the least you could do." His admission was so casual, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Because it was. Peter hadn't brought anyone back to the apartment in over a month. He would find ways to spend time with you, whether it was while you were folding laundry or cooking dinner.

You saw the look in his eyes when you helped him patch up after a rough night. It was so intense that you found ways to avoid eye contact.

He kept those overly flirty comments because he knew that was what you were comfortable with.

You stared down at Peter, whose fingers were gripping the hem of your sundress.

He wasn't going to budge. You had to make the choice.

"You can eat me, but you can't make me come with your mouth. Defeats the whole purpose of seeing if you can make me come with your cock," you finally said after what felt like an eternity, the heat making you almost dizzy.

The hem of your dress was pushed up to your waist, a low groan escaping Peter's mouth from upon seeing that you had opted to forgo underwear.

A snarky remark formed on your tongue, but it died as soon as Peter buried his head between your thighs.

His tongue lapped greedily at your folds, your arousal mixing with his saliva. A gasp fell from your lips as you felt Peter's nose brush against your clit.

Your hands found themselves in his bleached hair, tugging on the surprisingly soft locks.

His mouth was good, which your body loved but your brain hated. You had bitten your bottom lip so hard in an attempt to hold back any pleasurable sounds that the taste of copper filled your mouth.

"Just let go. Probably why you haven't ever come," He muttered into your thigh before latching his mouth to your clit.

The grip you had on his fake blonde locks tightened as a strangled cry fell from your lips.

You could feel Peter moan against your cunt, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body.

"J-just get on with it Parker."

He took his mouth off of you, it taking everything in you not to whine from the loss.

Peter stood up, which was when you saw that his chin was glistening. His fingers gripped your chin, his other hand on the back of your neck. With his broad chest, he guided your body until it was fully against the wall, one of his thighs in-between your legs.

"Why don't you ask nicely, princess?" You could feel your slick against your skin as his lips ghosted over your cheek.

"T-thought you liked me," you stammered as his thigh pushed against your core.

"Doesn't mean you get to be a brat. That's no way to treat the one guy who actually wants to make you come on his cock."

He was right. He was the only one to realize you had been faking it, that you weren't satisfied. The only one to offer to try, to express not just interest but want in making you feel good.

"P-please, Peter," you whimpered.

"Good girl," he praised before gripping onto your thighs and picking you up. His words caused you to clench around nothing, burying your head in the crook of his neck.

When exactly you ended up in Peter's room, you were unsure. But as the back of your head made contact with his pillow, his fingers gripped your sundress, pulling the fabric up and over your head.

Peter muttered a curse at the sight of your bare body. Of course you didn't wear a bra either.

His lips found themselves on your chest, his teeth grazing your skin. Your nails dug into Peter's back as his fingers slipped through your folds, into your entrance.

"T-Thought- you said you would f-fuck me," you whined, your pitch increasing as you felt Peter's teeth against one of your nipples. The air was hot from the lack of AC, his cracked window doing very little to cool you down.

You could hear him laugh against your chest, "Put up such a fight only to beg for me to fuck you."

Peter flicked his wrist, his fingers hitting a spot that left you breathless. He saw how your eyes widened, your lips parted yet no sound came out.

That all too familiar smirk, the one you wanted to wipe off his face, the one that made him look almost boyish despite his stubble, the one you adored, returned.

He pulls his fingers out of you, pushing down his boxers to free his cock. His fingers are glistening with your slick.

You're staring, unable to look away as he uses those same fingers to pump his cock.

"Like what you see?" Peter grins.

You roll your eyes, "I thought you were supposed to stop being an asshole after you admit you like me."

Peter shakes his head, leaning down so his body is hovering over your's, "Don't you know it's bad to change yourself for the person you like?"

You lift your head up to capture his lips, your teeth tugging on his bottom lip. You clench at the deep groan that comes from Peter.

His free hand wraps itself around your throat, pushing your upper body back down to the bed.

A choked scream escapes your lips as you feel him enter you. You feel full, the sensation of Peter inside of you almost overwhelming.

"Just tell me when you're ready for me to move," He whispered softly before pressing his lips against your cheek.

"Move, please," you whimper.

"You wanna come so bad, don't you?" You nod your head at Peter's question, whining as you feel his cock pull almost all the way out of you, leaving on the tip.

"Don't worry princess," his accent shown through as he thrusted back into you, your back arching off the mattress.

It actually feels good, the way his cock fills you up and brushes against your walls with every thrust. Peter's lips are all over your neck, alternating between giving you bruising marks and soothing kisses.

You can feel sweat rolling down your chest, but for once you don't care. A coil is tightening in your stomach, a sensation that until now, you had only experienced when touching yourself.

"Feels good?" Peter asks, his face not even inches away from yours. You can feel the ends of his blonde hair brushing against your forehead.

You nod, but that isn't good enough for Peter, "Use ya words. Wanna hear ya."

A scowl forms on your face because of course he'd still be an asshole when he's getting you close to coming.

As if he could sense it, a large hand grips your chin, his fingers squeezing the sides of your lips.

"What did I fucking say about being a brat? I know you're close, can feel your cunt squeezing my cock."

His words only push you further and he can tell by how the near vice grip your cunt has on him somehow gets even tighter.

Peter grins, his eyes lightening up as realization sweeps over him, "You put up this tough girl act but you want someone to put you in your place, don't ya?"

It's all too much. His words, his cock, the sound of his skin slapping against yours.

How he figured you out in record timing. How despite the fact you both tried your best at the beginning of this lease to keep each other out, you were more comfortable around one another than anyone else.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of ya." Peter shifts so he's on his knees, his hands grabbing your thighs and pinning them to his hips.

The new position allows him to not only thrust deeper, but also gives him access to your clit.

Inhibitions now gone, you throw your head back as you feel his calloused fingers draw circles on your bundle of nerves.

Your hands find themselves practically clawing at Peter's thighs, desperate for him to keep going. You loved how good it felt. That he was actually fucking you, rather than treating you like a life-size fleshlight.

"Please don't stop," You manage to get out in-between the whimpers and moans.

"Not a chance. Wanna hear how loud you get when you fall apart on my cock."

You opened your mouth to call him an asshole, but then his fingers brushed against your clit again, pushing you over the edge.

Your nails dug deep into his back as you fell apart around him. Your whole body tightened and unwind over and over again. The neighbors next door were sure to draft up a noise complaint, given the way you were practically screaming.

Peter continued to fuck you through it, prolonging your orgasm. You never wanted it to end. Your eyes couldn't help but close, all you could focus on, all you could feel, was how your walls tightened around his cock.

"Fuck, you're so pretty when you come," Peter grunted, his eyes never leaving your withering body.

You opened your eyes again, unsure of how long you had them closed for. Holy shit, he was still fucking you. You could still feel your body spasming in pleasure.

"D-don't….don't stop," you begged, jolts of pleasure still running through your body.

"I won't baby. I'll make ya feel this good every night if ya let me." Peter's words combined with his fingers still drawing circles on your sensitive clit, pushed you back towards the edge of pleasure, further away from coherent thoughts.

"F-fuck, you feel incredible," Peter stammered as he watched you fall apart again.

His hips snapped against yours, the feeling of your tight cunt practically milking his cock becoming too much. The sounds of your wetness were loud and lewd, spurring him further.

Peter collapsed onto you, a deep groan falling from his lips as he slammed his hips against yours one last time before coming inside of you.

The two of you laid there, the only sounds in the room were of the small fan Peter had on and you two trying to catch your breath.

"So what do you get?"

Peter lifted his head up from your chest, his brows knitted in confusion at your question.

"You said if you couldn't make me come, you'd pay utilities for the next three months. You never said what would happen if you did make me come," You explained as you run a hand through his dyed hair.

A soft smile appeared on Peter's face, the corners of his eyes creasing.

"I get to take you out to dinner," He revealed.

You couldn't help but laugh, "Y'know, most people take folks they like to dinner first, then fuck them."

Peter shrugged, "Figured you needed to relax first."

You playfully swatted his shoulder, "Asshole."

"This asshole just made you come so hard, you blacked out for several minutes," he reminded you before pressing a kiss to your jawline.

"Yes and I'm sure this won't be the last time you remind me," You shook your head, though a small smile remained on your face.

"I'll stop once I get you to squirt. Then I'll make sure you never forget about that," Peter whispered, sending heat all over your body.

Perhaps you could renew your lease with him.

#my writing #abby's 3k celebration #peter parker smut #peter parker oneshot #peter parker x you #tasm peter x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader smut #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm peter x you #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm peter smut #spiderman x you

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fizzfags · 1 month

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EMIZEL/FIZZFANGS ANALYSIS

the long awaited. under the cut bc its really long and im fucking insane. (this does not necessarily focus on them as a romantic pairing, just the way they interact with each other. interpret it in whichever way is most compelling to you/what you see fit.)

EMIZEL:

the most notable thing about emizel is the fact that he is mainly motivated by status and climbing the social hierarchy in whatever situation he is currently in. in his human life, that was climbing the ranks within the demons. after he dies, he doesnt really understand the social hierarchy within vampire society, but he does understand that its very important to at least be in good standing.

(episode 2)

he has an inherent disrespect towards authority, also seen with his father, (which i will get to later) as seen with this interaction with arthur. he's insistent on meeting the important figures within vampire society in la, and prioritizes this over, say, learning how being a vampire actually works. in the same episode, he also tells arthur "It just seems like we have similar goals, you know? I clearly don't know what I'm doing in vampire society. You do. So I need to learn. And you did say you'd take responsibility for teaching me." keep in mind that this is only a week or so after he was turned. things become interesting when we see him interacting with said important figures.

(episode 4)

in a stark contrast to arthur, hes relatively polite and respectful. obviously, this is to build favor for himself within the community of important and respected figures. also notable, he is lying out of his fucking ass. this is probably my biggest piece of evidence against the people that genuinely believe that emizel is unintelligent, because he clearly knows what hes doing.

as stated in the tweet, he gets killed/injured makes stupid decisions so often because he's used to operating under the rules of the demons and normal human society, and he hasnt learned that consequences and rules are enforced much harsher in regards to vampires. his rash and impulsive personality/decision making skills/opposition to authority figures that he doesnt like just isnt compatible with vampire society, and this leads to him getting hurt (see any and all of his interactions with edward)

(episode 4)

so, we know he lies to get what he wants (status, respect, etc) and doesn't feel bad about it. now is time to address his upbringing. obviously, it was not great. he has a very negative relationship with his father, and it wouldn't be too big of a stretch to describe it as potentially abusive. "Listen, I've lived with this guy my whole life. He's always kind of been a piece of shit to me, so do what you want - I couldn't care any less. But, if you're making me choose between my wellbeing and his, then I'm always going to choose me. Besides, I can't do any of that mind shit anyways." (episode 2) we can most likely assume he joined the demons relatively young, as a way to escape or have a place to stay other than his dads house. this is also probably the source of his opposition to authority, especially those that act negatively towards him.

(episode 6)

episode 6 is very interesting. emizel risks his life to go back to the unseen one to ask a very specific question: "why did i get abandoned with my father, and why did shilo get to stay?" also noting that his most precious memory is one he had with the demons. when shilo asks about this question, he gets very defensive, because he knows that shilo would have an answer for him, but its not the answer he wants. if he tells them, they wont let him go back to the unseen one. of course, his question is left unanswered, and he asks it again in episode 10.

another very interesting thing happens in episode 10: he willingly gets rid of all memories of his father. he had a lot of other things he could have given up, but he specifically chose his father. with the definite negative impact his dad must have had on him, and how highly emizel prioritizes strength, it wouldnt be a stretch to say that he viewed the trauma of living with his father as a weakness, something to get rid of instead of grow and heal from. it would take time, a resource he isn't willing to share.

so, why is emizel so motivated towards power and status? with all this, the answer is pretty obvious: he wants to be able to build the life he was never able to have. power and status means money means opportunities means choices means a better life. he wants an escape from la, from his father, from everything he's had to deal with growing up. hes constantly reminding himself that its not fair, its not fair that shilo got to live that way, its not fair he was abandoned and stuck here. so he wants to make it fair for himself and the rest of his posse. those he considers his family. his jealousy motivates him.

so of course a wrench is thrown in everything when he loses that emotional connection to most of his friends (except theo. which i will get to) and finds himself just not caring anymore. the thing hes built his life around, spent years climbing the ranks - all for nothing. but what else can he do but continue on. find another distraction, find another goal.

THEO:

we don't know much about theos past other than he (supposedly) lives in the suburbs and has rich parents. (referenced in episode 8) though this is debatably canon, i think its interesting if it is because it brings up a lot of questions. most notably, why did he join the demons? the most obvious answer is that it's the same as emizel: his parents suck. though of course none of this is canon, so moving onto the things that are.

the first major event that happens to him is emizel being turned. he sees emizel less, "No shit, really? You know Emizel? How is he keeping up? He's kinda, been disappearin' every night." (episode 2) and we can assume emizel is a big part of his life. (which i will get to later) and then, thanks to shilo, a core aspect of his personality is stripped away. his entire life is essentially turned on his head, and he can feel something missing. so, as seen in episode 5, he turns to alcohol. its no surprise why, he's lost the sense of normality, his routine, everything he was used to. so he may as well do this. a lot of theos more interesting aspects only really show when hes interacting with emizel, so time to get to the fun part.

FIZZFANGS AS A WHOLE:

a very interesting thing is that emizel and theo act very differently when talking/interacting with each other than any other character. dialogue-wise, they both talk a lot faster and "messier" around one another, interrupting themselves and eachother to finish each others thoughts.

(episode 3)

just by their conversations, you can tell they're very close. this particular instance also has two other interesting things in it: theo asking what he can do to help emizel, and condi specifying that theo would be the only person emizel would tell about being a vampire. to address the first part, here is a complete list of all the times theo asks emizel what he should do/what he should do to help/etc (and this is an incomplete transcript, so ive probably missed a couple.)

"Alright, you lead the way man, let's do it." (ep 1)

"What's going on here? What do I do? What do you want me to do, man?" (ep 1)

"No man! I'm not leaving you, man! I can take him. I can still take him." (ep 1)

"I'm not leaving you, man!" (ep 1)

"Well, how can I help you with the non-soda related-?" (ep 3)

"Yeah! I mean... What should I do first?" (ep 3)

"So you just let me know whenever you need? I got you, bro." (ep 3)

"So, uh… Anything I can help with?" (ep 5)

"Don't worry, man. I got you. Where am I taking you?" (ep 5)

"So, um… how, c- how can I help you, man?" (ep 8)

this fucking crazy interaction:

(episode 3)

so it goes without saying that theo would do anything for emizel. and he does, he stays in the alley even after he gets hurt, he stays even after he watches emizel die. and when emizel crawls over to him, dazed and hungry for blood, he doesnt run. he only runs after emizel tells him to. another really important thing about their relationship is the fact that they're both a constant in each others lives.

(episode 8)

its kind of like they sort people into two boxes: "theo/emizel" and "everyone else." and the other will always be their highest priority. emizel drives to the other side of la just to see theo. after emizel dies in the club, his first instinct is to go find theo. theo is the only person that the unseen one appears as to him. in episode 8, the first step to his plan is finding theo.

(episode 6)

even if he hadn't just lot a good amount of emotional connection to the rest of his friends, i think he would still be a lot more urgent to go save him. and again, his first thought is to check if theo is there. if theo's okay, if he's safe.

(episode 5)

and theo does this too. he insists that emizel is his only friend, the only one he trusts. speaking of trust, that is the most crucial aspect to their relationship. they trust eachother a sickening amount, they regularly put their life in the others hands. when emizel drinks theos blood, its not "is he going to hurt me?" its "how can i make this the safest?" because theo trusts emizel not to hurt him, even after knowing he's killed ~12 people.

(episode 3)

and here, emizel trusts that theo loves him enough to be okay with this. note that arthur doesn't even bring up love, emizel is the first to. arthur only brings it up after emizel says that. because emizel knows that theo loves him and trusts him, emizel knows that theo would do anything for him.

(episode 9)

and emizel, notorious for not letting anyone close enough to hurt him, tells theo that if he wants to, not needs, wants, he can kill him. that theo can kill him, if he wants. because emizel doesn't fully trust himself alone, but he trusts himself when he's with theo.

and theo trusts emizel too. despite seeing what vampires can do in a frenzy, he trusts that emizel wouldn't hurt him, just as emizel trusts that theo would stop him before anything could ever happen. and emizel is a notorious liar, so we can assume that he doesn't/wouldn't lie to theo, which would explain why theo trusts him so much.

basically, they'll always be there for eachother and theo would do anything for emizel and emizel will always come back to theo in the end and they love eachother and despite everything they are together. theyre completely inseperable.

tl;dr: emizels main MOTIVATION is status, while the most IMPORTANT thing to him is theo

#jrwi #the suckening #emizel tucker #theo collins #fizzfangs

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