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#my ass DOES NOT know how to draw smoke
wrylu · 3 months
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here, take some
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nikprice
to heal your soul
(i also realized the smoke doesn't make sense but it's for the mood, alright.)
a bit referenced by this.. ⬇
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freyito · 7 months
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Can you do Smoke and Reptile, sfw, them burying their face in readers boobs, using them as a pillow and how they’d react to reader to reader doing it back to them? You could do somthing suggestive.
I'm curious also, besides Kenshi and Kuai Liang who else are you a fan of?
imma be honest anon, this is such a fire idea. when i was at this a7x concert me and my friend saw a guy with double ds. like. BODACIOUS bro. that was the first thing our eyes went to. he looked like jesus christ brother. he spoke like he had a message from the gods.
anyways. to answer your question. sentimentally i'm very attached to Kitana and Scorpion in general, i played Kitana when mk9 came out (i was 7, my dad let me play mk when i was SEVEN) and my dad played Scorpion and i always got my ass handed to me. but he worked a lot and playing mk9 was the only time we really got together when i was a kid. with mk1, we've been able to play a lot more together and it reminds me of those times, it's really fun. now i win about half the matches we play, but i just don't play Kitana anymore. i really do prefer Kenshi.
I am actually married to Johnny Cage and Kenshi, soooo Also, to be honest, the first characters to draw me into Mk1 were Smoke & Sub-Zero. Hadn't really been a big Sub-Zero fan beforehand, not of Bi-Han or Kuai Liang. So it was fun having that revelation. And Tomas is just super cute, I actually love that he's Czech. We're not the same, but hey, we're atleast both slavic. I dont know why, I just love finding Slavic characters cause more often then not I end up relating to them. Sorry for the monologue, anon. Here's your boob request :P
cw: gn reader cause everyone can have boobs brother, bonus character!, proofread
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"ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴘɪʟʟᴏᴡꜱ" || ᴛᴏᴍᴀꜱ & ꜱʏᴢᴏᴛʜ
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-Tomas Vrbada
Tomas loves nothing more at the end of the day than getting to bury his face in your chest. As long as you two are in private, he'll wiggle his way into you somehow.
Half the time you two have together, he's face down in your chest, it is a regular occurrence and will stay a regular occurrence.
Does he do anything other than that? No. He's planking. He's in love, man, you can't blame him.
So, when you find him laying on the bed that one fateful night, defenseless, you give him the same treatment. You climb onto the bed, and slink your way into his arms.
He reaches out for you absent-mindedly, running his hands through your hair. Then you strike. You plank right into HIS boobs. He hasn't even registered yet. But you understand why he does it to you. Even if you can't breathe, it's somehow euphoric.
Tomas pauses, looks down at you. And his face flushes. You can feel his body temperature rise. He doesn't know how to react, he's been caught in just an inconvenient situaton.
He doesn't complain, though. He's just flustered. Real flustered. He holds you close after he can find his composure, still unsure but grateful of your touch.
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-Syzoth
Syzoth almost always makes a dive for your chest when you two are cuddling. He'll be tangled up with you- quite literally, the man really enjoys being as close as possible- and still find a way to bury his head into your chest.
Doesn't matter how much you dodge out of it, he's going to wrap himself around you and find your chest somehow, someway.
But, he thinks he's free of this torment. He gets to lay his head in your chest, and run off freely. He does it when you two nap, when you cuddle, wherever, whenever.
You find him one night, after a long day and seize your chance. And your boyfriends boobies. Without a second chance you throw yourself at Syzoth, aiming directly for his chest.
You can see him realize in that moment what's happening. And you can see the exact look of 'awh fuck', almost as if in slow motion. And when you finally get to lay your head onto his sweet, sweet, pillows, he gives up right then and there.
Syzoth accepts the love, completely. He might act all pouty because you robbed him of his favorite thing to do, but secretly he loves it. You can almost hear him purr.
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-Bonus Points! Bi-Han
Bi-Han doesn't really find himself buried in your chest too often. Mainly because he feels like he's controlled for that. He's thought about it, but refuses to do it.
But let's be honest, how can you not shove your face in his tits? They're massive, H cups AT LEAST. So you stalk your boyfriend, until you can find a private moment between you two.
He doesn't know your game, but he does know you've been following him. He's not annoyed, he's simply confused as to why you won't directly approach him.
So, when you ambush him, he's only slightly prepared. You go straight for his boobs. And you land directly in between them. Silence washes over you two.
Bi-Han doesn't understand. Part of him doesn't want to. So he simply wraps his arms gently around your waist and pulls you closer. He kind of thinks you're in need of comfort.
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© freyito, 2023 | masterlist | queue | kofi DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 8 months
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Part 2 to: The Lieutenant's Whore
Dom!Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader, John "Soap" Mactavish x fem!Reader
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" Mactavish, Reader
Summary: Hearing what he shouldn't have, Johnny is rightfully angry and what does he let that anger lead to? A bad attitude that leads to even worse decisions. As you confront him about this sudden change in demeanor, things start to heat up. What happens when Simon finds out? Actions have consequences and Johnny is about to learn that you will only ever belong to the man behind the mask.
Word Count: 11.6 k
Warnings:
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The promise of going one more round had kept you in Simon’s bed, completely naked and filthy as you eagerly waited for him to get hard again. Another shared cigarette was being passed between you both to wile away the time so there was no real need for conversation; you didn’t come here to have a heart to heart, though you would have waited for hours and hours if it meant you could experience even more of the depravity that had just transpired.
As the burning smoke was exhaled out of your lungs and past your lips, a thought popped into that devious little head of yours. “You do realize that it’s the weekend, don’t you?” you questioned him casually as you passed back the cig for him to take a drag.
Simon placed the stick between his lips and drew the poison deep into his chest. “What of it?” he questioned back before he upturned his eyes at you with a smirk on his lips, letting you know that he was on to your train of thought. “You got somewhere to be, luv?”
You chuckled. “I sure do,” you played as you moved yourself onto him to straddle his lap between your thighs. You held up your fingers to count off things one by one. “Let’s see, where do I start? There’s on my back, on my knees, bent over with my ass in the air. It’ll probably take a couple days to get to it all.”
Simon shook his head with a roll of his eyes as he dug his meaty fingers into the bulk of your ass before giving it a swift smack. “So what I’m hearing is that I’m going to be absolutely knackered come Monday, is that it? Does my little slag want me to keep her dicked down all weekend?”
“As if you had a fucking choice,” you said with a devious smirk, “though it is easier to have you on board of your own volition. Do you know how hard it was waiting to do this again? Oh, no you’re gonna make it up to me and my sore fingers by keeping me busy for the next two days.”
As if he was ever going to say no to that proposition; as long as you both stayed locked up in here, no one would notice that you two had started something that would not be easily stopped. “You goin’ soft on me already? Can’t stand to think ‘bout bein’ away yet?” Simon picked mercilessly.
“You wish, bitch,” you didn’t even miss a tick, “there’s only one thing I’d miss and it’s situated between my legs right now.”
For emphasis, you rocked your hips over that meaty appendage and felt a twitch. Coming back from the dead already. Good, you’d give it a bit more to make sure that it would keep growing. Once it was quite stiff, you stopped rolling your hips and sat still; he was gonna pay for that remark.
“But, I need to grab a few things from my room before we go again,” you continued. “I will need to clean myself from time to time and lord knows I’m not about to use whatever 5-in-1 you have rotting away in the back of your shower.”
Of course you’d pull this shit the minute his cock was almost fully hard again. Fucking infuriating skank, why the hell did you make him enjoy the torture so goddamn much? Your palms were against his bare chest for leverage as you were about to move back off of him, when his hand firmly clasped around your chin to keep you in place. Going toe to toe with you since last night had been a thrill and even now he enjoyed matching your energy.
“Fine, I’ll let you go, but you’ve got approximately ten minutes to get your shit and get that sweet arse back here,” he said, drawing your face into his until his lips were nearly on your own. His breath was harsh from the tobacco, but you didn’t care; you liked him best filthy. “Best hurry, luv, cause if I’m left waitin’ with this stiffy any more than what I’ve fuckin’ given you, I’ll make you ride the tip of my boot with your bare pussy until you’re beggin’ and pleadin’ with me to do you proper.”
Fuck. That was enough motivation to get your heart racing and ready to go and you quickly swung your leg off of him so you could exit the bed. His eyes stayed glued to your back as you went in search of your discarded clothing that lay scatter around his floor. As you redressed, those auburn eyes traced the outline of your bare ass until it vanished behind the tight fabric of your jeans.
“Hate to see you leave, but goddamn is it a fuckin’ pleasure to watch you go,” Simon purred through the billowing smoke of another cigarette as he watched you throw back on your disheveled shirt so you could make it across base without gathering an indecent exposure charge.
You shot him one more quick glance before rushing off. He had pulled the sheet up just over his legs and lap as he lay propped up against the wall with his arm behind his head. It was hidden behind the fabric, but you could still see the outline of his cock starting to tent it up and that only made you want to hurry even more. No sense in wasting all that for some clean clothes and a bit of shower gel.
It was still pretty early as you stepped outside Simon’s quarters, the sun’s first light had barely even started to lighten the sky yet so you felt sure that no one would be skulking around to see you leave. Not after last night anyway; most of the others were probably just tucking in to sleep off the booze. You crossed through the base with not a care in the world other than getting back to what was waiting for you beneath the covers.
What you could not have known was that someone close by had heard the sound of the Lieutenant’s door opening and you making your way out. Soap had wanted nothing more than to sleep off not just the alcohol, but the sinking feeling in his chest at what he had stumbled upon earlier in the evening; his mind had other plans though and after sitting in the silence of his room, letting the agitated thoughts run rampant through his mind, he had decided to leave before he worked himself up more than he already was and did something really fucking stupid.
A striking set of blue eyes clocked you nearly running through the base back to your barracks, still wearing the same damn clothes you had on the night before. Soap bristled at the sight as he felt that burning anger welling up in his stomach once again, which only got worse when he saw you exiting the barracks in the same quick manner with a bag now strapped to your shoulder.
He didn’t want to, but quietly he followed behind just out of sight and sure enough you were returning right back to the Lieutenant's room just as he feared. As he watched Simon meet you at the door with just the sheet from his bed barely clinging to his hips and drag you back inside, he felt his heart sink straight into his feet as his fists balled themselves tightly together.
If this was a one and done thing, a drunken mistake that you had let run its course, then Johnny was sure he could get another chance to win you over. But seeing you return to that room destroyed any hope he had that he would get the opportunity to show you that he could give you an experience just as spectacular as what he had heard through the walls in that brief moment.
Kicking the dirt beneath his boots, he stormed off back to his private quarters and entered with an agitated huff as he slammed the door behind him; he couldn’t risk anyone seeing him like this and asking their dumb questions that would surely rotten his mood even further. The wall shook as the door made impact within its frame, the percussive sound reverberating off the walls. “Fucking pussy,” the Scot cursed himself. “Ye lost yer chance at her because ye had to be a lovesick pup. All fur whit?”
Cracking his knuckles before re-clenching his fists, he pulled back his arm and released it directly into the wall. It was enough to make the wall give, but luckily not enough to leave a permanent mark. “Now she’s getting fucked by that bastard,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “That was suppose tae be us in my bed. ‘twas mah name she was suppose tae be moanin’.”
His anger was supposed to be directed at himself, as there was no other that was to blame. Who was the one that pussyfooted around the topic whenever it seemed to present itself? Who was the one that got to worked up at times to meet your obvious flirting with some of their own? And who was the motherfucker that decided to let you leave the bar that night without even asking you if you wanted to go back to his, when you had been all over him all night? All of it was Johnny’s fault in the end.
It was clear he had let his crush mess with his head and though he should have taken the loss and moved on, his mind decided it would rather put that anger towards someone else and that new target would have to be the Lieutenant; he was the one that got to have you while Johnny sat alone with only his hand to keep him satisfied.
So now Simon would have to deal with Johnny’s wrath. And he made sure to start putting that aggression to good use before the day was even out.
Sweat was pouring and limbs were entwined, cock pumping in and out of a tight hole when several hours later a loud knock sounded through the room, making you startle with a jump and Simon grumble with agitation. Try as he might to regain composure to continue, it was shattered when again a loud bang rang out.
Pulling out of you and hopping out of bed in a flurry of anger as he threw on a pair of sweatpants laying near to cover himself, he crossed the room and wrenched the door open only to be met with - nothing. He stuck his head out to look around the area, but it was quiet and undisturbed with not a soul in sight, which only pissed him off more.
You silently listened, curious as to what the intrusion to the middle of your screwing was, but there wasn’t a sound. With a grumble under his breath Simon shut the door and made his way back to you. “Fuckin’ nothing,” he confirmed, slipping quickly back out of his pants and joining you under the covers.
“Whatever it was, it’s done now,” you said trying to get him to focus back on the task at hand. “We probably needed a breather anyway.”
“Done already, sweetheart?” he smirked, setting the tone back to what it was before you were both so rudely interrupted. Frustration be damned, there was still fun to be had.
You shook your head before extending your finger and poking it straight into the middle of his chest. “Now you’re just wasting time. Get back inside me before you regret it.”
And just like that he was back in the moment as he shoved you onto your back, getting between those legs once again like the good little soldier he was to pepper your tits with a flurry of kisses.
Before evening hit that same instance happened twice more, always when you both were in the thick of it when things were the most heated and not easily stopped; it wasn’t as if you weren’t taking breaks, but whenever those long stretches of time came around, they passed by undisturbed. It was clear that someone was doing this on purpose, but the question was why? You were going out of your way to be as quiet as you could, though there were a few times you just couldn’t help it. Still, if someone had a problem with the sound, why not just say something since no one knew you were in there?
It was all very strange, but since the perpetrator couldn’t be caught you tried not to give it more mind; no sense in ruining your weekend. That was until you entered the dining hall that night for supper with Simon in toe like your own personal scary guard dog, and you noticed a significant shift in the atmosphere.
Not wanting to draw attention to the fact that you and Simon were in close proximity and hoping to keep the status quo so that your little secret wouldn’t be found out, you had decided to sit and eat separately. It wasn’t what either of you wanted, but you’d be back in each others company soon enough after you refueled.
Looking through the hall for a place to sit, you caught sight of Soap sitting off from the main group he usually hung with. It struck you as odd; it wasn’t like him to eat alone. Grabbing your food, you made your way over to him and took up a spot by his side. There was a noticeable shift in him the moment you stepped near; where he had been close and talkative before, now there was distance and silence that filled the space between your bodies as he didn’t even bother to greet you. That was not normal at all.
“Hey you, fancy meeting you here.”
You watched as his back tensed as if he had been spooked, caught off guard from being lost in deep thought, but he did not say anything in return to your greeting.
“Everything alright?” you asked as you took your seat, setting your food down and turning your body to face him in your seat with a curious eyebrow raised.
Soap quickly looked at you before he diverted his gaze into his plate, messing about the food with the tip of his fork. It looked as if he hardly had even take a bite yet. “Fine,” he answered curtly, still not meeting your eyes.
It sounded off to you and the whole thing just felt wrong, though maybe you were simply reading too much into it. The alcohol had been plenty last night and it was possible the Sargent had just overdone it after you had left the bar. That was a rare occurrence for sure, but it did happen every once and a while; perhaps last night was just another time you could add to the tally. Nudging him in the ribs with your elbow, you tried to cut the tension with a joke.
“Did the liquor make you her bitch?” you picked, expecting the usual cheeky comeback about him being able to hold his own, but you were only met with him jerking away while his spine visibly bristled at your touch.
He cleared his throat. “No.”
The reply felt even shorter than the prior one and whether or not he was going to admit to anyone right now, something was definitely wrong. “Okay, okay,” you said as you held your hands up in surrender, “just trying to make conversation, but I can see you’ve got your fucking knickers in a twist.”
Nothing, not even a smirk. Whatever it was that got to him had really sunk its fangs in deep. Fine, no more picking since that seemed to only make it worse. Maybe a deviation in conversation would work better.
Picking up your own fork, you began to mess about with the food on your plate. “You know, I really had a good time with you last night. We really need the team to get out more often when we have the time so we can have more fun together.”
The clang from his fork hitting his plate as he threw it down caused those around to look up at the both of you. The suddenness of his action shut you up as you waited to see what he would do next. Quickly he stood from his seat and gathered his things, still without ever making eye contact; he wasn’t going to sit there and listen to anymore of this inane bullshit, not when he was actively trying his best to forget the way you felt against him and all that pent up sexual tension he couldn’t hope to explore anymore.
“Ah gotta go,” he muttered as he left you sitting there, wondering what the hell happened.
You watched him leave the hall before you turned your sight over to Simon sitting not far from you and shot him a look of ‘what the fuck’, which was only met with a subtle shrug. He had noticed the unusual interaction as well, though you knew his feelings about you and Soap, so it wasn’t much consequence to him that he was leaving you alone now. At least he wouldn’t be trying anything with you again as long as he was away.
Still, with the incidents earlier, it was just too much of a coincidence to fully ignore the change in him. You ended up eating in silence just thinking over everything that had happened since the bar in hopes that maybe you could figure it out, but by the time you were finished you had nothing and so you let it be. Besides, Simon was already staring at you, waiting for you to discreetly follow him back to that den of sin that would be your residence for another day so you could end the weekend on a good note.
And what a glorious fucking time it was. The knocking only happened once more and Simon had not even stopped that time. “If it’s important, they’ll fuckin’ say so,” he had grunted as his pace didn’t even slow while he continued pounding into you.
Those sheet were absolutely ruined by the time you were both finished, covered in enough stains to create an entirely new pattern on the fabric, though neither of you were complaining; you didn’t have the strength to. Shit, it was a bitch to even think about leaving, though you knew that you had the privilege back that whenever the mood struck again all you had to do was come find him.
And yet even though you were going to leave there completely and utterly satisfied, something was still eating away at you and it had everything to do with a certain Scot with a newfound sour attitude.
“Something is seriously up with him,” you conjectured as you were drying off after just getting out of the shower, before you were set to get dressed and leave. “I have a sneaking fucking feeling he knows something is up. I think I should talk to him before this gets out of hand. I’ll probably try and catch him some time this week for a little chat; if he does have suspicions we don’t need him spreading that shit around.”
“Probably should avoid being alone with him when you do it,” Simon added.
You paused. “Is that for my benefit or yours?” you shot him a knowing look.
He stared right back at you. “Yours if you know what’s fuckin’ good for ya,” he said firmly. “He’s livid now, but there’s no sense in risking him tryin’ to get close to ya again.”
“Oh, possessive much?” you chided him. “I can handle myself.”
Getting up from his seat on the bed, he moved in and his aggressive kiss hit your mouth quickly. “Never said you couldn’t,” he returned as he broke the connection. “But I don’t want no manky bastard tryin’ anything with you, ever. I meant what I said, sweetheart.”
You kissed him back once more. “I’ll be fine.”
A swift smack to your backside punctuated your kiss. “Fine,” he conceded. “Now, get your arse outta here before I change my mind about lettin’ you go back to your bed.”
It was a few days before you found the time to actually address the Soap situation, as whenever you went looking for him the man could not be found. Literally, you would hang around his usual places, hoping to casually run into him and strike up conversation, but it wasn’t happening.
It wasn’t till the middle of the week when opportunity presented itself and found you at the right place and time. As you were passing through the superior’s offices on other business that evening, you saw it just out of the corner of your eye. The bright, florescent overhead light shone from inside his office; he seemed to be the last one still there, working late. Immediately you jumped at the chance to confront him, your feet carrying you quickly in that direction before he had the possibility to evade you once again. Whatever this was that persisted between you both was going to get resolved one way or another right here and fucking now.
Rapid fire knocks upon the open door to his small office made Johnny look up from his seated position behind his desk where he sat busy with paperwork and the moment his sight clocked you, his eyes widened in surprise.
“Can I come in?” you asked.
Johnny immediately diverted his gaze just as he had been, his emotions getting the better of him. “Ah’m kind o’ busy at the moment,” he brushed off your question as he pretended to busy himself with the papers on his desk, but you weren’t satisfied with that.
You took a deep breath as you stepped over the threshold. “Look, I think we need to talk.”
“Ah dinnae think we do,” he scoffed back.
See, again this wasn’t normal. There was no way in hell the old Johnny wouldn’t jump at the fucking chance to engage in chitchat if it meant you would stick around. Something had crawled up his ass, that was certain, you just didn’t know what.
“Johnny,” you said, brow furrowed at this sudden shift in attitude towards you lately. “What’s goin-”
“It’s Sargent tae ye,” he snapped, immediately shutting you up and cutting you off before anymore could be uttered, “’n’ ye’ll do well tae mind that.”
“Well excuse me,” you said angrily, instantly agitated by the way he had just jumped down your throat unprovoked. “What the fuck has got into you lately? Maybe you want to fill me in as to why all of a sudden you want to act like a bitch and pull this rank shit with me? I thought we were friends.”
“Friends?” he repeated the word with a sneer.
“Yes, friends,” you reiterated. “Ya know, pals? Good buddies? Or was I wrong?”
You had come here under the best of intentions, to clear the air of whatever the hell was going on, but his sudden hostility towards you changed all that without a second thought. Johnny wanted to continue with this bullshit then you were going to match that energy; you weren’t one to be fucked with. Even still, you needed to get down to the bottom of just how much he knew and fast.
What he said then took you by surprise. “What? Ah thought ye got wet by men in higher ranks,” the statement slipped angrily from his lips.
“Excuse me.”
Finally he looked back up into your face. “Did ye think ah wouldn’t fin’ oot about what it is ye’re up tae, hmm?” he questioned. “Aboot ye ‘n’ Ghost getting far tae familiar. Oh, thought yer wee secret was safe did ye?”
You stared back at him, furious. How the hell had he found out about that? Had he been following you when you didn’t realize it? You swore you’d been more than careful at keeping all that on the downlow. “I knew you were sweet on me, but fuck Johnny, you stalking me now?”
He shook his head. “Maybe ye should learn how tae fuck more quietly, lass,” he scoffed. “Ye’re lucky the whole base didnae hear ye taking th’ Lieutenant like a fuckin’ whore the other night, though now that ah think aboot it maybe they should. Maybe Price would like tae hear aboot this gross miss use o’ rank manipulation by one o’ his favorites.”
Oh, so this is what it was all about…that bit alone made it blatant; it was him that had been trying to sabotage you getting dicked good by the big man on base and it was all because he was jealous. His snide, underhanded comment made that crystal clear. You should have seen this coming a mile away, what with how he was practically in your pants at the bar that night, but being blinded by an overabundance of top quality dick can make anyone blind. Still, you never thought he would go as far as to threaten you; honestly you didn’t think he had it in him and it caught you slightly off-guard.
“Why don’t you just shut up and admit it,” you shot back with white hot aggression at his weak attempt at blackmail. “Admit that the only reason you’re standing here right now acting like this is because you didn’t get to tap it first. You had your chance the other night, do you know that? Shit, you had even more chances than that if we’re both being honest, it’s not my fault you didn’t jump on any of them. You snooze you loose, bitch, and now it’s the Lieutenant that gets all this to himself.”
Johnny had never been jealous of the masked man before the other night, but hearing that he had squandered his chances to have you only made his blood boil in his veins. All the time you had both spent together, all the flirting, was it all for nothing because he wasn’t headstrong enough to be his usual cocky self and go after what he wanted?
And then the bar, he hated to think it, but was that all a part of some big game? He had had his suspicions the way Simon had stormed out of there that night and you following not long after, but so entranced by your company he was that he let it slide. Now that he really thought it through it was something he had to push out of his mind because he knew he might not like the answer if he thought about it for much longer.
Cheeks burning and mouth dry, his emotions got the better of him and Johnny couldn’t stop the shit spewing forth from his mouth as he rose to stand on his feet. “Ye think ye’ve won th’ lottery, dinnae lass? Sure, L.T. might be able tae give yer body what it needs, I dinnae know what kind o’ game he’s got, but what aboot when he’s finished? Ye think he’s really th’ best option tae keep aroond?” he questioned, as he moved out from around his desk, closing the distance between you both with a few steps. “A’ve been soft aroond ye because of my feelin’s, but if ye wanted someone tae treat ye like a slag in th’ bedroom all ye had to do was say so. But what aboot after that though? How aboot also bein’ treated like a princess in public, cause if that’s th’ case yer lookin th’ wrong direction Bonnie. L.T. dinnae seem the type for that sort o’ thing.”
“And what if I like being treated as only a toy and nothing more, hmm?” you pressed him. “Maybe I don’t want to be your princess; maybe I like being a whore?”
Damn, he knew you were rough around the edges, a strong broad who knew exactly what she wanted, but something about a girl who wasn’t about to let a man make her feel weak in any sense of the word only made him want you more. Tough women who posed a challenge to win over made the Scotsman weak in the knees.
“An what aboot when he gets tired of ye, hmm? Ye know he will. Ye gonna come crawlin back tae me then?”
You smirked; god, he was trying his hardest to slide his way between you and Simon. Could you really blame him? No, but that didn’t make his disrespect any less. “Is this your angle? Talk shit and think it’s gonna change my mind, like I don’t know what the hell I’m getting myself into. Cause that’s pathetic.”
The corner of his lip upturned. “Na, pathetic is th’ way I’d have ye begging me fur more before Ah’m done, baby girl.”
Well damn, that wasn’t half bad, you thought with a chuckle. Eyes locked to his, you gave him a impressed nod. “I almost believed you, good job,” you praised his performance mockingly. “But I’m not some little girl that you can just throw on the charm and seduce; you think you know the type of woman I am, but you’ve only hit the tip of the iceberg baby. You gonna talk a big game, big man, you gonna have to live up to it.”
“Who says ah cannae?” he pushed back. “Maybe ye dinnae know me as well as ye think ye do either. Maybe ye’re afraid tae admit how much you want me.”
As if you had so easily forgotten how he used to act before his little heart had grown attached to you; like you hadn’t been there times before where he had picked up a girl from the bar, using not only the charm of his quick wit, but his slick attitude to win her over. Perhaps he had forgotten that you had not always been the object of his desire, but that was besides the point.
Johnny was trying to cross a dangerous line with you and that would not stand, not one fucking bit. Offended wasn’t the words because let’s be honest, being lusted after was anything but euphoric. However, if he thought he could come between you and Simon he had another thing coming; no matter what he did, there was no way you would not be immediately running back to the ghost-masked man of your desire. That didn’t stop you from playing the game though.
“I’m genuinely curious now since you want to talk your bullshit,” you said. “I know you have a cocky streak in you a mile wide so come on, let’s see it; show me what you got if you have the balls for it. Cash in on the checks that that mouth of yours is making. But, you know if ‘he’ finds out what you’re doing its not gonna end well for you.”
You thought calling his bluff would make him back down, but your challenge had the opposite effect now. The short distance that still existed between you both was now reduced to nothing and you could feel a muscular arm sneaking its way around your hip towards your back before he sharply snapped it back into himself with you in its grasp, pressing your body fully up against him. “Ah’m not scared o’ th’ likes o’ him.”
“You should be,” you smirked. “You think he likes to share? If you’re not careful you are gonna be in a lot of pain.”
That hand at your waist slithered its way down to your ass, where he palmed it and gave it a tight squeeze over your pants as he made your hips grind against him. “A’m done talkin aboot him ‘n’ what he wants,” Johnny said. “How aboot we talk aboot if ye want me tae stop.”
Fuck, the air suddenly felt thick with forbidden lust and though you would never belong to anyone other than Simon, it was hard not respond to Johnny’s overwhelming intensity for you in that moment. His other hand not currently gripping your ass found its way to the back of your head and he laced his fingers through the strands of your hair where he held them locked down before pulling to make your head jerk back and expose your neck.
Leaning in, his breath wafted over the tender flesh down towards your collar bone. Nostrils caught the sweet scent of your perfume mixed with your natural musk and it made his head spin. “Ye think ye know whit a’m capable o’, Bonnie, but ye have no idea. Why dinnae show ye just a taste o’ it? Think ye can handle it?”
You stayed silent as he brought his head in closer towards your own, his lips inching in towards your mouth steadily. Confident and headstrong looked good on him; he should have started with that from the beginning and maybe you both would have moved past friends sooner, but now that you knew what true domination felt like, he could never hope to live up to that. As good as you felt in his arms, there was no forgetting the man who was consistently making you come.
“Please, can I handle it?” you mocked. “I’d have you whimpering on your fucking knees in an instant if I wanted to.”
“We’ll see aboot that, lass,” he said as his lips were almost upon yours, his growing hard-on pressing into the bulk of your thigh. Desperate boy, you thought. The warm, sticky heat moistening the air around your mouths from your mixed breaths, his grip on the back of your head tightening as he agonizingly rendered the distance between you to near zero, made your pulse quicken in response under his touch. Just before that first connection…his lips nearly there…you could almost taste him…a voice boomed into the room from the door making you both jump.
“Mactavish!” a gruff voice bellowed out from right at the doorway, making the Scot’s head turn with a snap towards its source. “What the fuck do you think you’re doin’? You off your goddamn rocker?”
There he was in all his glory, the owner of your cunt, standing there menacingly as he took up the entirety of the exit with his size; his eyes flared with an overwhelmingly intense hatred for the man currently putting his hands all over what belonged to only him.
Leaning in towards his ear as Johnny kept his sight on a pissed off and fuming Simon, you chuckled low and seductive. “Uh oh, someone’s in trouble,” you said in sing song fashion. “Told ya.”
Stalking inside with a huff as his pulse raced through his veins to make his body shake, Simon slammed the door to the office shut behind him and locked it, securing all three of you inside until he decided when and if he would release you. That strong jaw shifted back and forth under his mask as he ground his teeth together to stop the rage that would surely make him end up in military police custody for homicide from consuming him, though if Johnny didn’t let you go soon those twitching muscles in his forearm from his clenched fist would soon be connecting with whatever he could get his hands on.
“This doesn’t concern ye L.T.,” Johnny spat, still clinging to you tightly, “I sugges’ ye leave.”
“Fuck no, this directly involves me,” Simon hissed, cracking his knuckles that were itching to bash his skull in. The vitriol in his voice had enough of an acidic bite in it that it could have burned a hole through the fucking floor. “You currently have your filthy mitts all over something that doesn’ belong to ya. I sugges’ if you want to keep those hands attached to your goddamn arms you will get them off ‘er, now.”
“Ah think she can decide fur hers-,” Johnny tried to hold his ground, but that was not about to last. There was no chance in hell he could out intimidate the master of intimidation.
Simon cut him off abruptly before he could continue with this blatant disrespect by getting directly into his face, planting his boots firmly into the ground in case he needed to take more drastic action to get the bastard to release you back to him. The hate-filled glare that bore into Johnny’s eyes made a sneaky shiver run up his spine. “Do you think this is a fucking game, mate?” Simon threatened low and menacing, his accent getting more heavy with his growing anger. “I am not fuckin’ playin ‘round here. Get your filthy fuckin’ hands off of what isn’t yours. Now.”
The rage brewing within Simon’s words were not meant to be taken lightly and as he wasn’t about to move until you were free, there was nothing more he could do. Looking back towards you once again, Johnny bit his lip hard to stop himself from popping off without thinking things through and ripped his hand out from around the small of your back and off your hip.
“Come ‘ere,” Simon snapped his fingers at you and you shot Johnny one last look of ‘I did try to warn you’ as you crossed in front of him towards your lover.
Christ, that was too close for comfort and Simon needed to re-stake his claim right then and fucking there before he lost his goddamn mind; you were his. His. And Johnny was going to have to understand that right this fucking minute. Keeping this whole thing a secret only worked when no one was trying to worm their way between you both, now that Simon had seen with his own two eyes how his treasure had almost been stolen by someone he called friend he couldn’t see straight; he had to rectify this now and there was only one way.
He had to make his claim known without a shadow of a doubt to the one trying to undermine it.
Once you were within range, Simon grabbed you and spun you around quick; flinging your back at the wall before he pinned you against it. The full weight of his body pressed you into to surface as if he were trying to fuse you into it. In the same breath, his customary mask was wrenched above his mouth and he wasted not even a second before he took your lips heated and greedily with force.
Johnny had not kissed you, Simon’s sudden intrusion had made quite sure of that, but the bastard’s lips were near enough that that hulking beast of a man had to remove even the specter of their touch by taking them with a dizzying intensity that left you clenching your thighs. Goddamn was he grateful that a sudden knot in his stomach had told him to come find you; if he would have waited and Johnny had gotten to you he would have lost his fucking mind.
“Fine,” Johnny growled angrily at this garish pissing contest that he was being forced to witness as you both had him blocked in; screw this small ass office. “Ye’ve proven yer fucking point. Ah got th’ message. Now, how aboot ye get th’ fuck oot.”
Simon ignored everything around him except for you, his lips too busy performing that intricate dance of back and forth, connecting and reconnecting over and over with your full lips again and again until your mouth burned with the friction. Hands roaming your body, following curves that he knew by touch alone, periodically smashing up against you, a whimper escaped from you and Simon readily drank it down. You closed your eyes as you let him fill you with his possessiveness; this is why you could never ever belong to another.
“Did ye hear me?” Johnny piped up once more, done watching someone else make you come apart at the seams. He wanted you both out, now. “Ah said ah got it; Ah’ll leave her alone. Ye can fuckin go.”
One more hard, lingering kiss was left across your mouth before Simon broke the connection and paused a moment to admire his handiwork. Your lips, bright red and swollen from his assault, your cheeks blossoming with color, with the lust-drunk look plastered on your face, all made up the perfect picture. He couldn’t help but smile.
“Does he know?” Simon posed the question under his breath.
You nodded as you held Simon’s gaze. “Pretty much all of it,” you confirmed that there was no sense in hiding anything anymore as Johnny was aware of your involvement with each other.
“You want me to go, really? For what? So that you can try this shit again ‘nother time?” Simon challenged while keeping his eyes solely on you. “Sure, you’ll cool down for a bit, but let’s be honest mate; take a look at her, you aren’t gonna stay ‘way for long. No, no one’s going anywhere. Ya haven’t learned well enough yet, but that’s gonna be rectified right here and fuckin’ now.”
Giving your lower lip one last quick nip, he released you from his grip and turned to face his Judas. Brows furrowed and eyes narrowed, Johnny’s posture shifted as he stared back, waiting to see what Simon would do. His palms grew sweaty as Simon moved back towards him, pointing a thick finger hotly towards the chair stationed behind Johnny’s desk.
The idea came to him in a split second as rationality had fled when the anger had settled in, a nugget of a thought that was born that first night you and Simon had rekindled your passion for fucking each other’s brains out, and now it returned to the forefront of his thoughts. The way you nearly vibrated with excitement on top of him that night when he brought it up, he knew you would be more than game for it if he suggested it now; of course his perfect little whore would want nothing more than to please him.
“That type of disrespect isn’t gonna fuckin’ fly with me,” Simon hissed. “You knew she was not up for the takin’ and yet you still tried. Now you are gonna pay; you’re gonna sit there and watch as I fuck her right on your desk. You’re gonna listen as she screams my name and see first hand just why she is mine and mine alone.”
This was ridiculous; as if Johnny were just going to stay here and take this shit. “Ye cannae do this,” Johnny said in protest, but it was in vain as Simon was not going to give up; the beast had been provoked.
“Oh yes I can; you brought this on your goddamn self by putting your nose where it didn’t belong. Now, sit - the fuck - down before I make you,” Simon demanded and begrudgingly Johnny followed orders. The skull masked giant was scary intimidating when he wanted to be and with the several inches in height he had on the pretty boy in this enclosed space, it was enough to make him submit.
Johnny subdued, Simon refocused back on you. That rough palm cupped your cheek, making you look up at him and only him. With a heavy touch he drug the thick pad of his thumb over your lower lip as he stared at their fullness with hunger in his gaze.
“How about it, hmm?” he asked. “Why don’t we give Johnny boy here a show he won’t fuckin’ easily forget; it’ll be just like you wanted. Don’t you want him to see how good you take me? He thinks he knows what you need, how about we show him how bloody wrong he really is.”
The idea of performing in front of Johnny was enough to make your head buzz with the sudden intensity of your arousal. You would have allowed the entire base to watch you get plowed by Simon, getting absolutely destroyed by his massive cock, if he asked it of you, but Johnny would do just fine.
“Fuck yes,” you agreed without hesitation. Your lover had been disrespected after all and you knew with the way Simon was fuming that the rage-fueled sex would be oh so good right now.
“Good girl,” Simon praised in the gravely tone that fit his accent to perfection. “That’s my good fuckin’ girl.”
Your lips already raw and still parted as you waited for his mouth to come back to yours, eyes hooded with lust, you did not even protest as those large hands moved down the front of your torso and took hold of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head to leave you standing in your bra.
“She’s really giving you a treat, Mactavish. You think everyone gets this view?” Simon spat back behind him as he moved you both right before the desk with you in front of him, your back pressed against his chest. He may be the only one who could touch you, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want others to watch as he did it. No, he wanted to parade you around just to show off what others couldn’t have.
Those muscular arms crossed themselves across your torso, pushing your tits together to give them more lift as they sat still inside your bra while his mouth found the crook of your neck where he laid the first of a few quick nips. “Neva seen such a glorious sight, have you Johnny?” he groaned, looking down into the peaks of your breasts that had popped up over the top of your lingerie. “Let’s make it even fuckin’ better.”
With one hand he drew the clasp in the middle of your back together, pinching the sturdy fabric until the tiny hooks unclasped themselves and your bra hung loose at the front of your chest. Coming back around, his hand grabbed at the middle of the bra and wrench it forward and off your shoulder to leave your breasts fully exposed. “Don’t need this, I’ve got something for those juicy tits.”
Those two oversized hands of his cupped the fullness of your breasts within their grasps, cradling them against the palms as they spilled a little through his grip. Taking your pink rosebuds between his thumbs and the side of his pointer fingers he rolled the tiny beads around until they stuck out prominently in between his digits.
“You like that you little slag? Fuck, you have enough tits to go around, luv,” Simon said pointedly against the side of your head as he continued to work at your nipples, waiting until he got the whimper he was looking for before addressing Johnny again in mockery. “Doesn’t that just eat you up inside Johnny boy? That I get all of this to my fuckin’ self?”
A hand slipped down the front of your pants and inside the waistband, traveling across the warm, soft skin of your abdomen until it hit the crotch of your pants so that he could cup that rough palm against your sex. A moan escaped your lips as he scooped up against it and applied a good bit of pressure. “Oh,” he hissed delightedly as a dampness instantly hit his hand, “she’s already drippin’ for me, aren’t you, luv? Mmm, I think she’s enjoin’ bein’ the center of attention. Too bad you can’t get a feel of these silky petals old boy; they’re so warm and wet and soft it should be a goddamn crime. Fuckin’ hell, they’d make Satan himself repent ina fuckin heartbeat.”
You could feel Simon’s girth throbbing against your tailbone as he massaged up against your swollen clit, his other hand still cupped around your breast. He was clearly enjoying this as much as you were, audience be damned. His cock was so hard it was about to rip a hole in the crotch of his pants as he put all his energy into you, feeling it throbbing with each beat of his pulse as his heart worked extra since all the blood had rushed to that girthy appendage.
Head heavily falling back against his shoulder, you let yourself go completely to him while your hips began to move with him as you thrust against his palm to create even more friction. The thrill of having Johnny sitting there, eyes glued to you as if he were unable to pull his sight from your form only made your skin tingle with excitement and heightened your arousal. It was true, you loved being the center of attention and to have Simon so possessive over you was the icing on this sinful cake.
“These have got to go, baby,” Simon’s voice at your ear growled, his hand leaving your cunt for the moment as he tugged at the waistband of your pants. Nimbling he undid the button and pulled down the zipper agonizingly slow and you swore you could hear the second that Johnny had stopped breathing.
Simon’s heavy panting was at your ear as the rest of the entire room stood silently still. If it were up to him in that moment he would have just thrown you over the desk and entered you without another second being spent, but his anger had not left him completely yet and he really wanted his brother in arms to be destroyed.
“Slide them off, easy now; make Johnny squirm with the anticipation of it,” he ordered before he leaned in so that only you would hear the next bit. “Make him pay for tryin’ to take you from me; ruin him.”
Lifting your head back up off Simon’s shoulder you brought your gaze directly to Johnny’s face, holding his sight locked in your own. Your mouth still agape with your short, rapid exhalations you made a show of slipping your fingers into the now opened waistband at the hips. Pushing them just a little, they moved down an inch as you jutted your hip out seductively. Then you paused as Simon latched those lips to your neck.
“Do you want to see me Johnny?” you asked in a breathy whisper. “Cause I really, really want you to see me. All of me.”
Johnny could have easily looked away from the sight before him, no one was forcing him to watch, but try as he might to pull his hungry gaze away he couldn’t. Simon was right, fuck you were gorgeous being absolutely manhandled like that even though it wasn’t him that was doing it. Still, the way your body looked as it flushed pink with the heat of your pleasure made it hard not to enjoy the show. If the tightness now giving the front of his pants a good tenting was any indication, he was going to be in pure agony for weeks on end.
His silent, wide-eyed stare spoke volumes and again you lowered the waistband just a bit more, right at the base of your pubic bone. The little patch of neatly trimmed hair at the top of your pussy had just started to peak through the zipper as you paused for the second time.
Sucking the silky smooth flesh of your neck, Simon hummed into you. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he praised how well you were following his direction. “Steady on.”
Heavy thumps from his pulsating heart could be felt in his ears as Johnny watched on with baited breath while you finally slipped the cloth concealing your cunt off your hips and down over the curve of your ass, not stopping until you had pulled them completely off your legs and they lay resting on the ground. Standing back up to your full height you gazed back up at your audience with innocent doe eyes as you bit your lip playfully.
“What do ya think?” Simon posed the question to Soap who was now foaming at the mouth. “Can you think of anything more beautiful than this? And it’s all fuckin’ mine.”
God, the ecstasy of being paraded around like Simon’s favorite toy was out of this world and you couldn’t help but revel in the euphoria of it all. As much as you knew Simon wanted Johnny to pay for what he did, you knew that the only reason he agreed to such a punishment in the first place was because he desperately wanted someone, anyone, to know that he had you under his thumb.
And something about how incredibly, indescribably, ridiculously hot that thought was made you absolutely feral.
You ran your hands around your neck and down around your breasts, giving them a squeeze before continuing down the line of your body. You glided over your hips while giving them a twist before stopping just shy of your cunt as Johnny’s chest heaved heavily up and down.
“Fuck,” he said barely above a whisper as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and you smiled.
Simon moved back against you, his forehead resting against the side of your head as he pawed at his cock within his pants, trying to adjust the painfully tender organ to sit more comfortably to no avail; he was too worked up now and only one thing would fix it. Still, lips resting at your ear, Simon gave another command. “Touch yourself.”
That was an order you would not hesitate to follow.
Extending your middle and ring fingers, you slipped your hand fully down between your thighs and split yourself open slowly; fuck, you were just as tender as he was, your throbbing clit could barely take anymore without some form of release. Easing your fingers inside, you found that precious bean and began to stroke concise circles over the top of it.
“Mmmm…” you moaned into your closed mouth as a shiver ran through you.
Pressed up against you, Simon could feel the shake in your arm as you worked yourself, the muscle of your bicep vibrated on his torso and rubbed against his abdominals. He focused everything on the little mewls and groans you let flow out of you like music as you drew out your own ecstasy stroke by even stroke. If your loyalty to him was ever in question, it was resolved now as you followed his orders completely without hesitation.
You were the farthest thing from God as something could get, but the damnation was more than worth it just to covet you all to himself. If Simon ever felt the need to worship, it was your body that would be his religion now.
His hand cupped your cheek to hold your head against him. “What’re you thinkin’ about?” Simon groaned, eyes still closed. “Are you thinkin’ of me as your fingers do all the fuckin’ work?”
“Yes,” you whispered.
“Say it, out loud.”
You swallowed hard. “I’m thinking of that fat fucking cock of yours plunging deep inside me. Goddammit Simon, please, I need you baby.”
Yes, oh fucking God yes. “Look at Johnny, say it again.”
Eyes heavy lidded found the Sargent’s face. With voice clear, you spoke your truth, unashamed. “God I need to feel Simon’s cock stretching me out, filling me full, making me vibrate. Christ, I need him to fuck me stupid.”
A pathetic whimper sounded behind closed lips as your stroke hit a bit of extra sensitivity. The vision of him finally bending you over the desk to enter you was all you could imagine now and it made you writhe with anticipation.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon grunted, his phallus bruising your leg as he ground the hard tip into your thigh. “I’m gonna fucking fill you so full to the goddamn brim with me, I’ll have your legs shakin’. You want that, to be stuffed full? Maybe I’ll really stuff you, give you everything.”
His brain was misfiring, his heartbeat pounding, his pupils dilating as each agonizing second passed until he could not hold back a thought that came forward towards the surface of his mind. The ultimate show of possession, the peak of ownership, the true slap in the face of the one watching you both right now. And he let out that thought that was snaking its way through him like electricity.
“How about we make Johnny watch as I fuckin’ breed you?” he growled, low and primal, putting his whole chest into it.
Simon almost had to grab you to stop you from falling as your knees nearly buckled out from under you at his salacious statement. That came out of nowhere to take you completely by surprise, but Jesus Christ what a visual that you were instantly obsessed with now. Was he trying to stop your heart because if he was going to say shit like that he better have a defibrillator on standby.
“Yes, fucking yes,” you whined as you fingers began to move faster and faster against your clit. “Do it baby, fucking breed me. Fill me nice and deep. Make this pussy yours.”
It was so wet between your legs the sound of your fingers stroke through your slick was now audible and Johnny was trying his hardest not to pass out. What he wouldn’t have given to have the balls to get up, throw Simon out, and have his fucking fill of you; that was a dream, but shit was he burning to slide his cock into that slopping mess gathering between your thighs.
“Please, Simon,” you cried out, “take me now. Please, I can’t fucking stand it anymore. I need to feel you.”
Simon’s member was so tender with a deep ache that it was almost painful. Enough was enough, screw Johnny and this bullshit display, this wasn’t waiting another second; if he wasn’t inside of you in the next beat it felt like he would burn to death.
A strong hand gripped your wrist and ripped your hand from out between your thighs before it moved to your hip and was joined by the other on the opposite one. You were being shoved forward, pushed from behind as Simon blocked your hips up against the edge of the desk. You were already bending over it when his forearm pressed into your shoulder blades to guide you down before his fingers were running the length of your spine to your ass.
The other hand quickly pulled down the zipper on the front of his pants and finally he was able to release himself, his pants hanging loosely about his lower hips. His cock was so swollen and feverish to the touch, the moment it hit the cooler air outside his clothing he winced. The two prominent veins along the length throbbed and pulsed with his raging heartbeat and the engorged tip shimmered with a bit of precum that had leaked out.
No time was wasted as he used his booted foot to spread your legs open wider, shifting his hips in against your ass as he slid the tip of his phallus between your damp petals. Slipping it back and forth as few times, he coated himself in your juices; he was about to go all in and he would take as much lubrication as he could so that nothing would be snagging.
Once satisfied he again grabbed your hips and aligned himself, thrusting hard towards your entrance, inserting himself fully into you. You took him all in perfectly, your body swallowing every last delectable inch as if it was designed to hold all of that girth.
“Oh god baby, you’re just suckin’ me right in, you greedy bitch,” he hissed, those fingertips bruising your skin as he held on for dear life. “Christ, take it all, slut.”
He had to pause to collect himself, otherwise this would be over before it had begun. It should be a goddamn felony for you to feel this good, as if it were that first time all over again. You had to have a bit of witch in you to keep him under your spell like this.
Breathing through the waves of ecstasy threatening to undo him, he regained his composure and began pounding into you with strong, robust thrusts, pulling almost completely out of you before slamming back into your core down to the base of his cock. Your body rocked against his intense thrusts, breasts bouncing across the desk as your face was pressed even further into the surface; you could only moan as the euphoria coursing through you at his movements was intoxicating.
A strong grip around your neck from behind picked up your head and pointed it forward right back at Johnny’s face from off the tabletop. Mouth open and jaw slack as you breathed through each delicious thrust from Simon’s cock, you locked eyes with the mohawked Sargent and held his gaze.
“There we go, you keep those eyes on ol’ Johnny boy there, pretty girl” Simon growled. “I want him to see the look in them as you take every last goddamn inch of me.”
The warmth radiating from his body made your skin tingle as your back began to glisten with perspiration; his fingertips left trails of fire everywhere he touched and you were more than willing to burn for him. He kept the pace even, making each thrust count as he hit that tiny bundle of nerve endings inside of you.
You could feel your pulse match his in perfect unison, your heartbeats determining the pace he pounded that cunt of yours. The harder his hips pumped into you, the more the sounds of your bodies slapping together filled the silence of the room. What beautiful fucking music your screwing made. The force shook through your trembling body, but the precision was spot on in hitting that perfect spot time and time again until you were so inebriated on the exhilaration of the over stimulation.
Gagging on his own moan, Simon looked down to watch himself thrust in and out of you. Too much, it was all too damn much; you took him so goddamn well, the way your juicy cunt pulled his cock in. No one had ever made him this pussy-drunk, not in recent memory and as you bucked against his pelvis, that intoxication only grew.
“Fuck, sweetheart, you buck any harder and I’m going to blow my load right fuckin’ now,” he grunted between thrusts. “You want that? For me to fill that pussy full? Why don’t you tell Johnny what you want.”
You licked your parched lips as you struggled to regain your ability to speak. “I need him to fill me Johnny,” you said, your eyes pleading with the man directly in your vision staring, unblinking. Your eyes begin to water, its too good, its too much. He’s hitting deep, as deep as the angle can get while his testicles bounce of your pussy to add that extra bit of stimulation. On your tiptoes, you are backing it up until your ass is flush with him, mouth hanging open as you pant like a bitch in heat, saliva threatening to drip from your lips. “Please, I can’t take much more.”
Johnny’s hand began pawing at himself unconsciously through his pants, trying to calm the storm. It feels like you are asking him a question, but his brain was so hazy he couldn’t form solid thoughts. That desperate look in your eye, the begging swimming in their depths, he could feel the breadth of your desire for the man behind you.
“Please…”
Simon turned his attention to Johnny for the first time since before he entered you and smirked. “So needy isn’t she?” he asked. “Always making me work for it. She’s almost fuckin’ there, though, but this part is just for me.”
Quickly he pulled his cock out of you amidst your whimpers at suddenly feeling empty and spun you around, picking you up so that your ass made contact with the surface of the desk where you sat. There was no need to worry, he was back in between those legs in the blink of an eye and as you wrapped your thighs around his hips, he thrust back inside that tight, sopping wet cave.
His body shuddered harshly from the feeling of your silky walls being wrapped around him again. “Goddamn, sweetheart,” he grunted, his eyes meeting yours. You were a mess, a beautiful disaster, and his breath hitched as he admired your flushed cheeks, glazed eyes, swollen, cracked lips; all his doing.
Those primal instincts within his marrow took over and all he knew, all he cared about was the feeling of your walls constricting around him and how that pleasure takes all his cares away. His lips crashed upon yours furiously, completely muting your whines as his movements become more ferocious.
“You are mine,” Simon said repeatedly in hushed groans against your lips as if trying to pour the sentiment down your throat. “Mine.”
His, you thought. Only his.
Harder and harder his abdominal muscles clenched and retracted as he put everything into the force of his thrusts. Your tits bounced up and down in front of his face, jiggling with each hit as you wrapped a hand around the back of his neck to hang on as he rocked your body.
“Say it, I want to hear it,” he demanded suddenly; as much as he was struggling to hold it off, it wasn’t working, and he was about to come.
“I’m yours, Simon,” you mewled, your grip on his spine tightening.
Fuck, he would never get tired of hearing that. “Again.”
You swallowed the saliva gathering in the front of your mouth to coat your parched throat. “I’m yours, Simon, only yours,” you said louder this time.
“Again.”
“Simon, this pussy is yours, only yours, forever yours. …Fuck.”
With that last syllable he was gone; his cock pulsed violently inside you, his body writhing harshly while he drained himself dry, coating your walls with his fluids as he continued to pump inside of you. There was no way he was going to give up until you had come too. A few more strong thrusts in and out with steady rhythm and that was all it took, you were crying out as well, throwing your head back as you shook with the intensity of it all. That grip on your hips turned painful as Simon dug his fingertips into your flesh to keep you both steady while you rode out your orgasms until there was nothing left to give and once he finally released you, you toppled backward onto the desk exhausted.
Pulling out of you nice and slow, everything was far to tender to move quick anymore, he gazed down at his masterpiece. Your entrance dripped droplets of his seed as it spilled out of you and something about it made him shiver with excitement. You looked absolutely divine stuffed with his cum.
As he looked back up towards your face, he was met with your sleepy, ecstasy-filled smile and his heart leapt in his chest. Goddamn, this was a fucking dream. He leaned over your exhausted body and pulled your head up, mashing his face into yours as he captured your lips and held them locked until he could feel your heartbeat slow to a more respectable rhythm.
Releasing you and resting his forehead on yours, he holstered his cock back inside his pants. “Get dressed and head back to my quarters, I’ll be there in a bit. I got something to finish up here first.”
You nodded into his head and he helped you to get up off the desk and grab your clothing, holding your tired, shaking body steady while you put everything back on. “You did so good for me, luv,” he whispered his praise before walking you to the door to unlock it and let you out, re-locking it behind you.
Johnny was already on his feet by the time Simon turned around. Crossing the room in just a few large steps, he was on him. Simon’s large hand wrapped itself around his throat as his face inched in closer in intimidating fashion.
“You ever try to touch ‘er again, anything more than just a friendly little handshake, and I will make it my mission to ruin your fuckin’ life. Understand me, Sargent?”
A nod of his head. “Yes,” Johnny said quietly as he struggled against his grip.
That wasn’t good enough. “I didn’t fuckin’ hear you,” Simon snapped.
“Yes, sir,” he said more firm this time.
“And if words get back to me that you went to Price about this, well, let’s just say that certain actions have consequences. Is that also fuckin’ clear?” Those rich chocolate eye bore down into Johnny’s soul with the seriousness of his words; this would be the one and only warning he got.
The sour look on Johnny’s face let him know he had gotten the message. “Crytsal, sir,” he confirmed.
“Good,” Simon snapped, releasing the grasp on his neck just as quickly as he had taken it.
Moving back, he straightened himself up to make sure nothing would look out of place to anyone he would pass on the way back to his room before speaking again. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, Sargent. I know I will.”
And with that Johnny was left alone as Simon threw open the door and stalked back out of his office as if nothing of note had taken place here. There was no telling right then and there what would happen next, as Soap's head was still reeling, but one thing was for certain: things were about to get interesting.
Tag list: @igotmajordaddyissues , @abbiesxox
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actuallysaiyan · 3 months
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I Think You're Holding The Heart Of Mine(Part 2)
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warnings: mentions of alcohol, my own spin on cursed techniques, Kento being such a sweetheart, some violence(just from the training), reader gets drunk, usage of the nickname "usagi-chan/bunny"
word count: 2.7k
pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader
summary: Kugisaki is convinced that you and Nanami are a thing so she thinks about her next plans to figure out how to get you to confess. When you go out to dinner, a third party is there to surprise you...and to buy you drink after drink after drink until you're drunk and Nanami has to take care of you.
taglist(Wanna be a part of this? Just message me): @beneathstarryskies
Part one! Part three!
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“Ahhh so you and Nanami-sensei?” Kugisaki asks you as you usher her to a quiet place on the training field. She’s already got her hammer in her hand.
You laugh, “you and Itadori-kun have a good sense of imagination. But no, we are merely what they call “work spouses”. That’s all.”
You can tell she’s not really buying it, but she keeps quiet for the next little bit. She heads toward the clearing and gets into a fighting stance. You watch carefully as she begins to think out her first move, but you’re already ahead of her. Your fists are imbued with blue cursed energy, and from them a burst of water comes from them.
Kugisaki is so quick to deflect, and from that a sense of pride swells in your chest. She’s a tough cookie, this girl. She’s smart, clever and quick on her feet. She knows her worth and she knows how good her cursed technique is. You work on drawing forth another one of the powers of the twelve zodiac, a bonus from your own cursed technique.
You watch as Kugisaki has a hard time shooing off two cursed heads that have come from your own hands. The twins of Gemini try to bite her, and she swings at one of them. Then she slams her hammer down on the second one, just narrowly missing a bite from the other. The first one squeals in pain as one of her nails penetrate it.
“Very good, Kugisaki-chan!”
She scowls at your use of the honorific ‘Chan’, but she doesn’t allow it to distract her. She then watches you as you make a seal with your hands. This is the big one, the same Zodiac sign as your own. You’ve got a special pact with this one, and it will act on its own if you aren’t careful. Aries, the ram, charges towards the young sorcerer.
There’s a moment where you are sure she will be able to dodge it, and she almost does. But she is quickly knocked back on her ass, the ram dissipating as you call it back towards you. It disappears in a cloud of red smoke, and you know that you need to give Kugisaki a moment to breathe as she recovers from your attack.
“Well done!” You praise her, helping her to her feet.
She beams, “Thanks! I’ve been practicing!”
“I can tell. You’re getting very strong.”
You two catch your breath, speaking of other battle techniques. She’s becoming a very skilled sorcerer before your very eyes and it’s touching to see something like this. The fruit of your labor is blossoming beautifully. Someone was actually becoming stronger because of you, which was always something you doubted. When Gojo had asked you to take this job, you were sure he was losing it. But he’s got lots of faith in you.
“Hey sensei,” Kugisaki asks, hands behind her back. You know she’s scheming.
You smirk, “What is it?”
“Are you sure you and Nanami-sensei aren’t a couple? I wouldn’t tell anyone if you were!”
You laugh softly. If only she knew just how desperately you wanted her to be right. You’d keep it a secret if you knew it meant you could be with Nanami. You’d never tell a soul if it meant you could have his love all to yourself. Then you smile at her, ruffling her hair.
“Kugisaki-chan, I’m sure. It’s not a real relationship. Just a friendship.”
She seems so unconvinced. Which leads her to think up the next part of her plan. She knew she’d be getting the answer from you whether you liked it or not. She just had to do a bit of sleuthing. So for now, she drops the subject and pretends to be very much invested in the training. This makes you so happy and so proud of her work.
Little do you know, she’s got ulterior motives…
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
You’re running a little late as you get to the pub. Training lasted a lot longer than you intended it to, and the paperwork you had to attend to took a little longer as well. By the time you got home, you were just answering the messages that Kento had sent you almost an hour before you got off work. You apologized profusely, but he really showed no signs of being angry. He just let you know the time and place, like the gentleman he is.
What you aren’t expecting to see is Satoru Gojo sitting next to him at the booth that was meant for just two. He’s quick to bounce out of his seat and wave at you excitedly. You see how annoyed Kento looks, but his face softens when he sees you approaching.
“I didn’t think we’d be three. But the more the merrier, yeah?” You ask Kento, who’s trying to hide his displeasure.
“Right you are.”
Gojo is practically hanging off of you. He was looking over Kento’s shoulder when he had sent you the text, which prompted the older man to declare he was joining you both. Gojo was also privy to some knowledge that the pair of you were definitely so deeply in love with one another, but you wouldn’t budge. He decided he’d be the one to get you both together.
“Ahhh usagi-chan! I’m so glad you’re here! Maybe you can help uptight Nanamin loosen up!”
You laugh at Gojo’s nickname for you, “What’s wrong with Ken? I think he’s just hungry.”
Kento’s face turns a little pink when you take up for him. He’s always happy whenever you defend him against Gojo’s rudeness and teasing. Nanami didn’t really mind the teasing too much, but he had wanted this dinner to just be the two of you. With a sigh, he downs his drink and flags down the waitress.
“Make it two, please.” You ask her, flashing your best smile.
You sit down in front of Kento, and you gasp as Gojo climbs over you to be able to sit snug between you two in the booth. He sighs overenthusiastically as he plops his head down on his palms. You notice he’s got a drink in front of him, and it looks very sweet and sugary.
“This is the…what did she call it now?” He asks himself, cupping his chin.
Kento sighs, “Sweet Sunrise.”
Gojo laughs, “Ah! Yeah the Sweet Sunrise!”
You roll your eyes playfully. Kento looks at you, his heart skipping a beat whenever you flash that angelic smile in his direction. Gojo isn’t dumb, he knows when you two are flirting with each other secretly. Despite you telling him that it was just a friendship and a work relationship, he knows it’s so much more deeper than that.
The waitress returns with a tray that holds yours and Kento’s drinks, and she sets them down in front of you. Gojo then takes the time to order another one of his sugary drinks. It’s a bit silent for a bit when she leaves.
“Soooo, tell us how training went today! How is the little Kugisaki-chan doing?” Gojo asks, tilting his head at you.
You take a sip of your drink, “She’s showing lots of promise. She is a skilled fighter.”
Kento chuckles, “She’s got a good teacher.”
You blush at his praise and thank him. Gojo then gets closer and he praises you as well, a smirk forming on his face when he sees how this affects Kento. Kento scowls softly, drinking more of his drink. Then he flags down the waitress once more, ordering some appetizers for all three of you.
“Awhhh Nanamin is treating us tonight, usagi-chan!” Satoru is beaming at this.
“It was supposed to just be us two…” Kento mumbles under his breath, drinking some more.
Gojo perks up, “What was that? Care to share with the rest of the class?”
You see how Kento’s jaw tenses and he looks like he’s ready to get into a physical altercation with the white-haired man. So you soothe Kento’s nerves by changing the subject and you ask Gojo about Megumi’s progress.
Gojo smirks, “Megumi is doing well. I think he’ll probably end up even stronger than me!”
You gasp. “Really?”
He nods, turning his body towards you. You’ve got him caught in a discussion, which will keep the attention off of Kento for a little bit. You really get so caught up in Gojo’s conversation that Kento begins to feel like he’s being ignored. Eventually, the waitress returns and everyone begins eating. 
It’s not long before Gojo climbs over the top of the booth and declares he needs to pee. Once he’s out of sight, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. You slide closer to Kento in the booth and you take his hand in yours and give it a very gentle squeeze.
“Ahh finally, I get to spend a little time with my husband.” You say with a little giggle.
Kento smiles genuinely, “I was beginning to think I’d have to pull Gojo off my honey. It was terrible to see him hanging off of you like that.”
You begin playing with his long fingers, your own fingers tracing the veins in his hand. The alcohol is definitely making you even more bold than usual. Kento’s heart races a little as you become so tender with him. He wishes it was just the two of you. He lives for these moments alone with you.
“Don’t worry, you’ll always be my favorite.” You coo softly, leaning even closer.
Kento stiffens, he can smell your perfume as you get closer. The way your fingers keep tracing the veins on his hand. Then you trace up and down his expensive timepiece. He knows you’ve always been curious about that watch of his. You’ve asked a few times about how much it costs, but he’s almost embarrassed about talking about how such a little thing costs. It feels frivolous at times, but buying it reminded him of his past as a salaryman.
“My, my,” Gojo says as he comes closer. You sigh softly. “What is this? Nanamin, you sly dog.”
Kento groans, “Don’t pay him any mind.”
You laugh at the interactions between these two. They sometimes act like some kind of old married couple. Gojo annoys Nanami, and Nanami tries his best not to let his senpai get to him. You wondered if there was anything else going on between those two, but it seemed like this was all it was. Just a senpai hellbent on annoying his kohai for the rest of time.
“Oh! Usagi-chan, you should have another drink!” Gojo knows he needs to amp this up if he wants to see anything happening between you and Nanami.
As if you were going to say no to that…
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
You stumble as you make your way out of the restaurant. You have to lean on the blond sorcerer as he guides you towards his car. Gojo left a while back, but not after getting you nice and drunk. He knew that Nanami would love the opportunity to take care of his drunk little wifey.
“You alright, dear?” His tone isn’t even the slightest bit sarcastic for once.
You nod your head, “Jus’ a little tipsy…”
He helps you into his car, buckling you up in the passenger side. Then he makes his way to the driver’s side. He’s had considerably less to drink than you did. He opted out on the drinks that Gojo had been buying you all night long.
“I’ll bring you to yours,” Nanami says as he begins driving.
“No, please…I don’t wanna be alone.”
This surprises Nanami to know that you’d want to have company while you’re in this state. You lean back on the seat and groan. You wish you hadn’t had that many drinks. But Gojo was paying and he kept egging you on. After the fourth or fifth shot, that’s when you knew you had messed up.
Kento drives you both towards his place. He knows you need someone to take care of you right now. You watch as he makes himself towards the affluent part of the city and the car turns into an underground parking garage. He opens his window and presses his thumb to a fingerprint lock. The minute it acknowledges it’s him, the bar raises and allows the car to drive smoothly into the garage. Then Kento finds his spot and parks the car. Once the engine dies, he turns to you and brushes some of your hair out of your face.
“You sure you don’t want me to take you home?”
You shake your head again, “Please, just let me stay. I’m not feeling good.”
He could tell you weren’t well. Your face was pale and your eyes were shut. He gets out of the car and then walks over to your side. Kento is helpful as he gets you to lean against him. Then he brings you towards the lift, pressing the button to call it down to you both.
“Don’t worry about it. What kind of husband would I be to leave his wife on her own in her time of need?”
This makes you blush and your heart wrenches. In your drunken mind, you desperately wish it was the truth. You wish this was where you lived. You want to be his wife and have this kind of life with him. Once the lift gets down to the floor you’re on, Nanami helps you on and then presses the button for the penthouse floor.
It’s a little ways up as you lean against the blond sorcerer. He smells amazing, something musky and leathery. It must be some pretty expensive cologne. You know that Nanami has a lot of money to be able to drive the car that he does and live in such a fancy building. You think to yourself that you wouldn’t even care if he had money or not, you’d still be completely head over heels in love with him.
Once inside his penthouse suite, Kento helps you into the bathroom. Gently, he wipes your face and removes your makeup with a warm washcloth. Then he takes your hair out of the ponytail you usually have it in and brushes it out softly. You have never had anyone take care of you quite like this. Not even any of your previous boyfriends had ever done anything like this for you.
“Thank you, Ken.”
Your words warm his heart. You’re starting to look a little better. He helps you up and guides you over to the sofa. The two of you lounge about and he pulls his phone out. Then your whole body stiffens when he wraps his arm around you and pulls you close.
“Let’s order some more food, yeah? You’ll feel better if you eat something substantial.”
You nod your head and snuggle closer to him. He lets you scroll through his phone and choose what you’re going to order. Once it’s been ordered, he gets up from the couch to procure a few more things for you.
This gives you a chance to have a proper look around. His place is so beautiful and luxurious. Much more fancy than your own place. You wonder how life could be if you lived in a place like this.
When Kento returns, he’s got some pajamas for you and a bottle of water. He hands them to you, allowing you the chance to head back into the bathroom to change. You get dressed in the silky pajamas, relishing in the scent of his laundry detergent.
“There’s my pretty little honey,”
You swear you’ve died and gone to heaven when Kento speaks those words to you. He gathers you up in his arms, his own clothes changed from his usual suit and tie combo to a sweater and some sweatpants. You’ve never seen him look so comfortable.
“And you look cozy as well, my dear.”
Kento looks deeply into your eyes, his hands pulling you closer to him. It’s like time has stood still as he leans in closer. Your lips are a mere inches away when you hear a loud buzzing coming from the kitchen.
“Oh! It’s the food,” Kento declares, his cheeks red.
He reaches into his pocket to confirm that the driver is actually here. Then you watch as he goes to the buzzer and answers it. 
If only…If only… you think to yourself. If only you hadn’t been interrupted.
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elliesmainhoe · 1 year
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Happy Mothers Day!!
HBO!Ellie Williams X MotherFigure!Reader
THIS CHARACTER IS UNDER 18 SO THIS FIC IS STRICTLY PLATONIC!!!!!!!
Summary: The first mothers day Ellie has ever celebrated and she's going to make sure that it's amazing.
Contents: tooth rotting fluff, happiness, extreme cuteness
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Pancakes were supposed to be simple. Key word supposed.
Ellie woke up at the ass crack of dawn that morning, she had set her alarm clock for 6m and had switched yours off- discreetly forcing you into sleeping over time. She'd gathered all the ingredients the recipe had told her. Said recipe having been ripped out of the book they were originally in and found laying near a library a little outside of Jackson.
Ellie had squeezed fresh apple juice as she waited for the first pancake to cook through. A bad habit of Ellie's was losing track of time, she got carried away, squeezing the apple juice lead to her finding cutlery which lead to her cleaning said cutlery which lead to finding the right tray to put the silverware on. Ending up with the smell of burning flooding the kitchen.
She slammed the kitchens door, attempting to stop the smoke from wafting through the house alerting you of her antics and waking you up. She opened the window, the chilly air ventilating out the smell of smoke before she turned off the stove.
To say the pancake was a little crisp would be a bit of an understatement.
Shit. She only had enough for two, one for you, one for her. Oh well... She'll have the burnt one, today's about you anyways.
Take two was a little more successful a bit crisp on the edges but it'll do. She flopped them onto the two blue and white china plates- covering yours in fruit and hers in chocolate, balancing them on a wooden tray with the two glasses of juice before she took to the stairs.
She nudged open the door with her foot as she walked into the dark room, curtains closed and blocking out the ever insistent sunrise from seeping into your bedroom.
Cautiously, she placed the tray on your bedside table quietly before tiptoeing over to you window and drawing the curtains apart- the warm glow of the morning lightening the space.
Ellie watched as your eyes fluttered open. "Fuck kiddo. What time is it?" You grunted rolling over to look at your alarm clock 7:45am. 1 hour and 30 minutes late for patrol. Before you opened your mouth the soft voice of your daughter interrupted you.
"Don't worry Mom... I talked to Maria and she cancelled your patrol today" her hand gestured towards the tray of overlooked pancakes, before she whispered a shy "Happy mothers day mama..."
"Oh sweet girl come here" you opened your eyes as a blur of brown hair launched itself at you, her arms wrapping around you and giggling when you pecked her forehead lovingly.
"I tried to make you breakfast. It's not the best but-"
"It looks amazing kiddo. Thank you so much_ you smiled into her hair, before scooching up the bed- your back meeting the headboard as you move the tray onto your lap.
You took a bite of the fruit covered pancake, and honestly you couldn't tell whether or not Ellie was a culinary genius or you were just a smitten mother. Because fuck it tasted good.
Ellie's doe eyes looked up at you expectantly and with worry and anticipation. "Well done Ellie. This tastes so so so so good. You gotta cook for me more often now kid." You hummed, she seemed content with your answer.
"oh wait I got you something else" the girl said darting off your bed and out of the room before swiftly returning with what looked like... A sketch book? "I uh didn't really know what to get you and I thought you would enjoy something personal... So..." She shoved the sketch book into your hands "here."
You set your food aside, opting to open up the leather bound pad of paper instead. The first page read.
To Mom.
I know how much you like my drawings so I decided to put something together for you. Happy Mothers day.
Love Ellie.
You flipped to the next page and there was a beautiful sketch of you, sitting a the barstool of your kitchen island, glasses resting on the bridge of your nose as you read a new recipe
The next one was of you and Ellie. She had sketched out and traced the photo you both took in the malls arcade.
The next one was of a cartoon giraffe wearing a space suit on the moon.
It went on and on and on for 80 pages, sketches of you, her favourite things, her favourite hobbies, her favourite people it was so so so beautiful.
A single tear dripped down your cheek, "come over here baby" you sniffles hugging your girl tightly "my baby's so talented..." You hummed hands playing with her hair as she smiled joyfully.
"Thank you so much kiddo.."
---------------
I actually celebrated mothers day 2 months ago! But I have baby fever rn so here I am again, healing Ellie Williams mommy issues.
Taglist:@aunslie @lonelyfooryouonly @eywaskisses @daryldixonh0e @kittynnie @lovelyyevelyn @randomhoex @moonlightdivine @haerinwho @mufflaa @mial1l @sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare @moonlighting87 @escaping-reality8 @magicalfreakcowboylawyer @hejdevkdbdjsd @dergy @half-of-a-gay @ellieismami @cyberlainn @gollumsmygel @sseorii @kyleeservopoulos @taloulalila @ellieluhme @kiiyoooo @delusionalvioleht @joelscharm @hi2647 @gumdropkoo @coffeeandbookskeepmealive @womaniza @namgification @kimiisims-blog @tayyyystan @abigaillovestoread @whoreshores @kylieeluvstlou @knowitsforthebetterr @endureher @erikaar @lanasluverr @sayah13 @ilovebufflesbians @srryhoneyy @222fine444u
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1-800-local-slut · 19 days
Text
Back and Forth
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Franklin Saint x Black! Fem! ex-gf! Reader
Franklin is that toxic ex that won't leave you alone, you're no better. Franklin and the reader are on again off again but for some reason they just don't work every time.
This is for all the girlies who bounce on business, I would fold for Franklin instantly. This man could be my favorite evil ex, idc. Stand on business tho y'all, Franklin is my favorite fictional liar but best believe I stand ten toes down.
Warnings: allusions to smut, drinking, drug dealing, typical Snowfall violence, season 3 Franklin, smoking weed (stay off that booga suga y'all), mentions of death, toxic relationship, Franklin is also pretty possessive, both of y'all are really jealous, reader is described as a crazy bitch, reader was caught in a drive by in the past, mentioned kidnapping
Request are open <3
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A cloud of smoke streamed from my parted lips, the smell of weed blanketing the car. Tasha and Latisha both scoffed at me after my last statement, their disappointment in me as thick as the smoke filling the car.
"You know he's gonna be right back in yo draws come tomorrow after church, stop playing." My eyes rolled before I could stop them. My brain felt fuzzy and the world seemed peaceful in the dead of night. Passing the blunt to Latisha, she took a deep inhale and held her breath.
'Between the Sheets' blared from the cars radio, adding comfort to my addled brain. Comfort and a slight hint of anger. This was one of our songs, that played while we were under the blanket in his back seat.
The car steamed up that night, similar to the smoke filling the car right now. I had an irrational fear that night that we would shake the car so much that it would roll off the hill we were parked on.
That was before he fucked it all up again.
Latisha was wrong. I was done with his bitch ass this time. This time, I was done playing with him, all his bullshit, his hypnotic eyes, the mountain of lies.
"Girl it's okay, no one blames you for giving into Franklin. Brother's fine." Tasha stuck her tongue out teasingly, which prompted a laugh from me.
Perched on the edge of the back seat with Latisha and Tasha sitting in front, I pulled my sweatshirt over my legs and pressed my head against the window. Latisha gave her a playful smack.
"Oh girl watch out before she do you like how she did Ki and them. Remember how she kicked through that bitch screen door?" Latisha laughed and Tasha cackled. I still remembered how hot it was last summer, when I put my foot through Kira's screen door and ran in swinging. Bitch shoulda closed her front door too but her broke ass couldn't afford air conditioning.
Sure, Franklin and I were technically broken up at the time but what does that matter? Especially after Leon rolled up on Delroy, my 'special friend', and Delroy told me to get to stepping the next time I saw his ass. I know Franklin told Leon to do it too. I don't think I gave Leon any reason to purposely make my life harder.
"Hey now that bitch deserved the ass whopping she got, she could fuck with that nigga all she wanted but how you gonna talk shit about me knowing you can't fight? Let's be serious y'all." It was funny, how she swore that Franklin wanted her over me. After I put my foot through Kira's door and caught her by her tracks, Franklin was at my bedroom window that night.
He was in my desk chair ten minutes later, handing me a box of chocolates that he knew were my favorites. Then he was in my bed giving me some deep, slow strokes that should be illegal. Looking deep into my eyes, pressing soft kisses down my neck and whispering apologies in my ear. Promising me that things would be better this time, that he would be better this time.
He hadn't even looked at her ass since.
Maybe he was over there right now. It had been six hours since he told me it was over, that he couldn't deal with my 'controlling self' and I told him to go ahead and kiss my ass.
Controlling, like he didn't have Peaches following me around all day because he had the slightest suspicion that I might've been considering cheating on him. He wouldn't have that problem if he wasn't ducking me out of nowhere and then when I pressed him he thought it was cute to lash out on me and tell me to get the fuck on.
"Look at her ass. Dick has her stuck." Latisha snickered and I snapped my head towards her. A lazy smile spread across my lips. The smoke stung my red eyes, it was a beautiful summer night and I was planning on getting so high I could shake hands with God, I was with my friends just having a great time. Fuck Franklin, fuck everything.
"If you don't leave me alone." I giggled and stretched back. I could feel it now, and wanted nothing more then to enjoy the feel of the seats under my skin.
It was like I was sinking into a wave of comfort and sleep. And before I knew it, I was floating through my dreams.
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"So y'all are over?" Franklin's eyes were burning into the house phone, his eyes willing it to ring. His long arms stretched over the back of the couch, head facing away from the TV the minute something interesting stopped happening. Leon, as always, had doubts, but as long as he stood ten toes behind Franklin, he didn't really care.
The moonlight casted in on Franklin, his eyes lit by the moon and the TV. Jerome and Louie were cuddled on the couch, while Burst City played from the TV.
"Yeah. She was all over me, I couldn't take it." Finally he turned his head back to the TV and stopped trying to force the phone to ring. A loud noise from the movie, amplifies by Jerome's speakers
"You the only nigga I know who'd be mad about a bitch that fine being all over him." With a chuckle, Leon took a drag of his cigarette. Jerome chuckled and Louie rolled her eyes before she smiled. The way she always smiled when she was with Jerome. The way Franklin's girl ex-girl used to grin uncontrollably when she was snuggled into his side.
"Shit, you fuck with her then." Franklin grumbled bitterly, taking an annoyed sip from his coke. He hated knowing that others could see how fine she was. If it were up to him, she'd wear a potato sack and stay in the house. He'd stay in the house with her too, the two of them together forever. But that just wasn't how things worked.
Why the fuck were they talking about her anyways? Franklin broke up with her, Franklin told her to get lost, Franklin was telling himself that it was over this time. Not just for his sake, but for hers.
Would you believe that she brought out the worst in him? Not his fucked up job, not his dad abandoning him and coming back now that he's grown, no. His ex-girlfriend.
She made him jealous, possessive, down right nasty. Nasty in a way that was different from when he would be pushing into her and could feel her nails dragging down from the nape of his neck. Nasty in a way that was just mean.
Yes, they had their highs. When they were the happiest people on Earth, but when they had their lows they were so low that it might have been in Hell.
"Aye man, I ain't mean that. All I'm saying is you two do this every week." The tension now palpable while they all sat in silence.
That wasn't even true. It wasn't every week, more like every three weeks! Usually Franklin fucked things up, usually by getting annoyed at something (work, her, they hadn't been having sex, he was arguing with his mom or Jerome or Louie or Leon, someone hit on her, she wore something sexy and he knew other niggas would like it just as much, he was hangry) and taking it out on her.
But not this time! This time, they had she started the argument when he came by her house late and she asked him where he'd been. When she came at him with the evidence that he let a stripper toss her ass in his face (which he put a stop to quickly) and refused to tell him who told her, then he got mad. Then she was like 'okay but why did you lie' and obviously he couldn't tell her he went to the club for business purposes because then she'd demand to know why it needed to be a strip club.
According to her, it was just about him lying to her. Which made sense or whatever. He even tried explaining she was the only girl for him and that he only wanted her ass in his face. He even tried cupping her chin and making her look him in the eyes, which usually made her weak in the knees. Franklin just wanted to come over, fuck, have a meal and spend some time with his girl but of course he can't just get what he wants.
So naturally Franklin felt caged and decided to tell her it was over.
"Whatever man, I said it's done."
"Alright then, damn." Easing back into the silence, they both sat and watched the TV. Franklin more so stared, his brain focusing instead her.
Inside he felt shaky, weird. Kinda like how he imagined the addicts he sold too felt without his rock.
She got jealous, but it was kinda sexy how mad she got. How crazy she was over him. Mostly she was only mad because he lied. He could go without lying. He never met to hurt her, just avoid the stress of her knowing he was around strippers and having to answer all her questions. But if he told her earlier that he was going and explained to her that it was for work then he could've avoided all of that all together.
Whatever, it was done now.
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"WHOSE AT MY GOD DAMN DOOR?!" It was 7:00 PM, Saturday night and there was a jumping party that needed me on the dance floor. Yet as I slipped in my earrings, my shorts rubbing against my thighs, someone was repeatedly knocking at my front door. Rather loud too.
As I stormed through my apartment the banging got louder. My apartment was filled with warm colors and the radio I picked up from Jerome's ages ago was humming 'Turn Off The Lights' and it put me in the mood to maybe someone over tonight. Fuck someone who wasn't Franklin.
More banging at the door, it wasn't Latisha or Tasha, they'd just use their keys. A sense of dread hit me suddenly like a car hitting a pedestrian. Being Franklin Saint's girlfriend had put me in two drive byes and one almost kidnapping and now there was someone beating down my door.
My hands found the knife I'd used earlier to rip open a package I'd gotten earlier, small remnants of the cut up box scattered on my carpet right under the coffee table in front of my couch.
Slowly I stepped to the door with my heart thudding around in my chest and the music fading away around me and now I just had to open the door. The knocking continued and suddenly my thoughts cut off by my foot thudding into a box.
A box full of shit. A box filled with Franklin's shit that I intended to drive by his place and fling out the window before never seeing him again. The sweatshirt I stole from him last winter, some cash he left here, changes of clothes, some socks, a bracelet he got me and a bunch of other jewelry wrapped carefully to avoid damage, plus some framed pictures of us. I could only hope he took the same care with my stuff.
The way the box smelt of him made me want to just run back to his arms. It was weird, being without him. But I knew it was for the better, my refusal to go back to him unwavering. As long as I stayed far from him.
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Well damn.
There he was standing in her door way towering over her small form. A bunch of flowers, foxgloves and oleander (my favorites he knew that), held in his hand in contrast to her knife which she now knew she could never bring herself to use on him.
He smelt so good that she had to fight the urge to jump in his arms.
Girl don't do it, send him on his way, her brain told her but her heart, like always, wanted to ditch the party and just spend the night laid up with him. Without any of the bullshit, the way things used to be when they could just be happy together.
Her legs on the other hand wanted to split open on their own. His eyes had that effect on her. He could just control her body with a look. What even was it about this nigga, was she that vulnerable to seduction?
Was it his smell? The rich cologne he bought with his new earnings with the slight smell of cigarettes and the night air. Plus the smell of his mommas house. Maybe.
Was it his strong jaw, the dark eyes that tore right through me like the sky being torn open by a gust of wind.
Fuck how the nigga smells, tell him to go. Do NOT let yourself get hypnotized
"You gon let me inside or keep pointing that at me?" That smirk crossed his lips. Damn. I wondered if I had this affect on him? Did I make him weak? Did he miss the sex so bad he was pathetically trying to get himself off every night thinking of that thing I do with my tongue that he likes? Was he damn near humping his mattress without even realizing it? No matter if he was, as sexy as it was to imagine Franklin touching himself to me. He had to go.
With a kiss of my teeth, I extended my arm to block the door way. This nigga could not pass.
"What you want nigga?"
"You."
"You came here to tell jokes? Take your shit and get the fuck on, I got somewhere to be?" A deep chuckle was his response. He had the nerve to laugh, teeth and all?
You can do this, you can do this, tell him to get to stepping
"Yeah I see you going outside looking real good. I just wanted to talk, see if we could get some closure. I promise I'm not gon take all night." He stepped closer, knowing my body would drive me back. Instead I dug myself into the ground, I stepped back then he'd be in my house.
I had to scan him up and down, find some way to even the playing field. Or make him think his seduction skills weren't working but damn they were working.
Remember how he acted, remember the lies, you wanted out
He smiled and looked like the guy I grew up with. The nice mammas boy who would never try to hurt anyone. I knew better, but he looked so...non threatening.
He was standing there, all washed up wearing a black jacket that he knew I loved him in. He held the flowers up in his right hand and knowing that he probably had a gun on him turned me on some how. The danger of being with Franklin always turned me on. Watching him get aggressive with others and knowing in a few hours he'd be taking it out on me.
The music I had playing wasn't helping me not get weak.
I don't know when he got so close that his chest was pressed to mine. He could hear my breathing and probably my heart beat.
Fuck his closure, send him packing
"Take your shit and go." It slipped out as a whisper, a breathless sound.
His face was right in front of mine and I couldn't do anything to stop myself. I should push him out my way and get to that party. Go find some other nigga who couldn't be as fine as Franklin but he would do for now.
"I'm sorry." He whispered against my lips. I could feel basically every part of him.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry for getting mad. Baby, please. Take me back. I'll do better. I'll stop lying to you. I'm sorry." He was inside now. Pushed through the door, his body against mine and my head spinning.
"What do I have to do to make it up to you baby?"
"I don't believe you. You always do this, you know your not going to change." I whimpered, my eyes shutting. My brain was fogging, an effect Franklin always had on me. But I would be stronger than this. I had too.
"I swear I will." He planted a soft kiss on my neck and I jumped. He was so warm. He tossed the flowers on to the little table I usually throw my keys on when I come in. Both hands ran up and down my arms.
"I promise I'll change. You don't have to pretend you don't want to come back baby, I'll do better this time. Just let me treat you right tonight, I'll start changing right now." More kisses undid me. I needed to tell him off. But the funny thing was, whenever Franklin and I broke up it was like I could only remember the best parts of him.
Not the lashing out, the screaming, the controlling, the random lies, the secrets. Only the gentle moments, where he held my face and gave me soft kisses that chipped away at me. The gifts that would adorn me when we went out, the way he proudly showed me off, the shopping sprees and little weekend trips, even the normal nights we would just sit around with our friends.
Sitting on his lap where I belonged, on whoevers porch as we just talked (and disturbed the peace of the neighborhood) and passed a blunt around and drank. He always made sure I got home safe afterward, my designated driver.
It was weird. Maybe it was feeling him kissing down my neck and him gently caressing me, but the good memories were just rushing to me. Like water smashing into a wall, slowly chipping away from it.
"I'm sorry I got mad at you. I'm sorry for lying, I just didn't want you to worry. I understand that I hurt you by lashing out and I'm gonna work on that. And you know I'm not perfect, just like you not and we both gon have to work on that. But I want to work on us, and I'm going too do whatever it takes. I'm building an empire and I want you to be right there with me when we make it to the top. It wouldn't be right without you." He was staring into my eyes, staring into my soul and heart and making his way back into both.
"Just one more chance. I promise this time I'll be better." I was never gonna hear the end of it this time. Another kiss, another piece of my self control.
"And if I'm not, I'll never bother you again. You have my word." It wasn't like he was all bad all the time. Standing trapped right next to my doorway, the city howling outside I felt the chill of the Summer night air blowing in from my open living room window. Somehow I was able to find it in me to push him off of me, stepping away into the living room putting more distance between us.
"I'm sick of going back and forth with you Franklin. It's constant with you, you lie for no reason and expect me to just forgive you. Why can't you just be straight with me?" He glanced at his feet, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. He looked guilty but I knew no matter how beaten up he looked I knew the next thing out of his mouth would probably be a lie.
"When my dad started coming back around, I couldn't tell my mom the truth. That I was the one who bailed him out that time. And I have to hide shit from people all the time, because I feel like I know better than they do and how news will effect them." He sighed, coming in and placing the flowers on the little side table next to my door. He ran a hand down his face, and I took another cautionary step back.
"You can't decide for me how things will make me feel. It isn't fair. You demand I tell you everything but it just isn't fair." That's bullshit! Yeah, Franklin had it tough growing up. His dad ran out and what not, but that has nothing to do with me!
He stepped closer in two large steps and took my hands in his. He ran his thumbs over my hands and I found myself admiring how big and perfect his hands were holding mine. Franklin really was beautiful and our everything just went together with pure perfection. If only he stopped keeping things from me. My eyes met his and he looked so..sad.
Sympathy overcame me even though I knew his ass didn't deserve it.
"I know. I know and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't be better for you. But I'm gonna try and do better this time. Imma give you everything you deserve this time. No more back and forth." Crouching, his forehead touched mine and I saw his eyes closed. He always did this, it was like a hug for him. I closed my eyes too.
"You promise?" It came out a soft whisper, and I could feel relief washing over him in waves.
"Promise."
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vampiretendencies · 1 year
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ok but jj reaction to reader getting catcalled or smth? bro would be so pissed
he definitely would be :,)
warning; catcalling, reminding that i age my characters up, they are eighteen here.
it’d be walking in town, and you’d have something on that emphasizes all of your features. from shorts that show the bottoms of your ass, to a shirt that has your cleavage practically bursting out. but it doesn’t matter.
you look painstakingly pretty, and jj’s girl wears whatever she wants. heads can turn and looks can be gained but you still look perfect, and he can fight.
“how old are you?”
a man would ask all whilst whistling, clearly aware that you have a boyfriend next to you and jj’s already suspicious because how the fuck does your age concern him. it’s a kook, because everyone on the cut knows better than to talk to jj’s girl like that
“what the fuck is it to you?” he’s pulling you into his side and throwing an arm over your shoulder prior to holding your hand, your less of choice in clothing and the question making you feel naked in broad daylight. he’s defending you no matter the circumstances.
“had to find out her age before i tell her how good her ass looked in those shorts.”
he’s fuming like do you see the smoke coming out of his ears?
he’s jerking the guy up by his collar and slamming him against the closest building in gritted teeth, drawing so much attention, still holding you close but he thinks twice with you present.
“think you’re fucking funny huh? pulling some look ass cat-calling bullshit like that?!” he looks back at you again before looking at the guy. “this aint over, so be glad she’s here or i would’ve caved your Goddamn face in, got it?”
you’d feel secure that you have someone around to take up for you, though you aren’t defenseless something so ignorant as cat catcalling can’t help but make you feel nothingness.
and still he’s putting you first.
“you okay baby? i’ve got you okay?”
send me your thoughts on jj and i’ll elaborate
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goldnhourwrites · 3 months
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Not enough people talked about these so I'm gonna do it myself because oh my god (commentary and headcanons below, it's just long)
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Sett has a little travel-sized sewing kit in his bag... it's so tidy... sett stitching things back together when his bandmates rip them...
Sett just casually carries around like 20+ pounds of dumbbells. Mans is literally always working out. The grind never stops.
"yo Ezreal can you grab my bag for me?" "Yeah sure--what the FUCK do you have in here? This thing weighs a hundred pounds."
His little exercise headband... and is that a hair tie behind it? Sett with his hair tied back??
Sett's energy bar collection. Sett's the type of person to pack an entire backpack full of snacks for a road trip.
Ezreal has a plushie OF HIMSELF on his bag.
this guy practically collects aesthetic glasses. 3 pairs in the bag plus the circle ones he had in PARANOIA.
Sharpie (for signing autographs???) His signature on the polaroids of himself???
The photo under the lip balm looks like it might be Ezreal and Aphelios. Ezreal's the type of person to make sure he has photos with all of his friends. Ezreal hanging up his favorite polaroids in his room.
can we talk about the all-white fit in the very bottom photo omg
Aphelios has back-up headphones for his headphones.
WHO SENT THE SNACKS. WAS IT ALUNE. WAS IT SOMEONE ELSE.
The writing on the note looks like Korean but unfortunately I don't know any Korean :(
his sticky noted book... is it a journal? is it full of lyrics? who put the little smiley face sticker on the front!! does he write in it!!
I love the idea of Aphelios just pulling out a little keyboard whenever he wants to write down a tune. How well can he play the piano? Only enough to write music, or does he have songs memorized? Does he ever play for anyone?
K'SANTE'S DRAWING TABLET
he's not just in charge of putting together their fashion, he designs it himself. i'm going to scream
I am in love with those glasses. I need art of k'sante in those glasses ASAP. i will do it myself if i have to.
What is his book!! What does the W stand for!!
The way the button on his gloves matches the one on his jacket in his LoL splash art. This tiny detail is driving me insane.
Also, the cologne? The top is the same as his necklace? Does he have a specific personal cologne? So elegant...
Kayn's Pentakill guitar pick. Let me see him play the guitar I beg
The crumpled up receipts. This man goes Shopping (also see: cash, various coins). And he just has a bunch of random shit in his bag because he never bothers cleaning it out.
the open leaking bottle of hair dye. please. do you NEED that
The random jewelry... I love the idea of him either a) taking it off, shoving it in his bag, and forgetting where he put it or b) bringing backup drip with him everywhere in case he needs more
While Sett, Aphelios, and Yone all opted for headphones, Kayn's gone with good old-fashioned corded earbuds. Does he not like headphones? Is it because they mess up his hair?
Big ass box of matches and For Why? Does he smoke? Is he too cool to carry around a lighter? Does he just like setting shit on fire?
Yone keeps a little emergency travel kit. Band mom energy. He's got band-aids and a toothbrush and toothpaste At The Ready.
Bottle of lotion? Yone with a skincare routine? Yone who stays moisturized? Everybody in Heartsteel asking Yone for lotion?
Earplugs (for sleeping on long bus rides, maybe?) I want to see Yone going "I'm sick of this shit" and tuning the fuck out.
Yone is the only one with a real headphone case. Aphelios has his around his neck 24/7, but his wireless earbuds have a case. Sett's just shoving his in there with twenty pounds of dumbbells and hoping for the best.
Yone's got so many little gadgets and I don't even know what they all are. He has his laptop and (probably) his phone, plus a smartwatch, and maybe a portable charger? He's that prepared.
I can't tell what the object beside his smartwatch is (looks wooden?) If anyone knows, let me know? I'm so curious
This man's got even more stuff inside his bag. Yone doesn't leave the house without like fifteen things in case of an emergency.
good news everyone. i'm still losing my mind over them
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shoezuki · 3 months
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random ass sampo and gepard (mostly sampo) headcanons to curb my writing itch and also to get out of my fucking head:
sampo is extremely self-dependent. he crafts his own bombs and weapons, is handy with repairing relics or creating mock ones, he stitches himself up and patches his own wounds, he mends his clothes, cooks his own food, can find ways to make money no matter where he is, knows how to get into the right conversations and social circles, can dismantle and hack robots or security systems
its kinda to a concerning degree, how self sustaining he can be. but its all part of the play to him. he has to be able to take on any role anyways, right?
sampo really, really, really really likes being the center of Gepard's attention; he delights in the fact that gepard is extremely possessive of the investigation and arrest attempts against him
kids are sampo's weakness; adults are liars and have their own masks, but kids are just as they are and that tends to get to him.
he constantly finds himself taking some time to play hide and seek or mess around with Hook and the moles
he unconciously will pocket useless trinkets or toys he finds when pillaging around the cold plains and the ruins around belebog, which he will hide around for the moles to 'find'
once, gepard found sampo sneaking around the overworld back alleys and went to corner and arrest him. but he stopped and hung back when he saw sampo scare a kid around a pile of boxes, saying 'i finally found you, kid! youre the last one it' and proceeding to chase play hide and seek with a bunch of school kids who just got out of class.
gepard watches for a bit. its one of the few instances where he lets sampo go without trying to bring him to justice
It happens a few times on the odd patrols gepard takes into the underworld. Gepard stays back and just. Watches. Every time. He hopes sampo doesnt notice him.
Gepard is very very insistent on bring sampo to justice. He handles all things regarding him, assesses and investigates any criminal activity that Might even be related to sampo. He has sampo's case file in his office and all reports of sighting sampo go to him. Its not supposed to be his responsibility but its just something thats an unspoken rule in Qlipoth fort now
If gepard isnt assigned to a case investigating sampo, he'll show up to 'assess the situation' anyways
Despite how intense gepard is on arresting sampo. He just... keeps letting him get away with things.
He'll see sampo play with kids, catches him hanging around helping natasha. He could corner sampo during their chases, he could lash out and freeze him in place on more than one occasion.
He's started getting used to Sampo's smoke bombs, learns the small tells when sampo is going to throw one. It doesnt choke him up anymore but he still coughs as if it does
Once on a routine patrol around the outskirts of belobog he stumbled (literally) on a heavy metal trapdoor that led down into an abandoned mine. Gepard shouldve alerted others, shouldve blocked it off and cut off one of sampos escape routes. But without thinking he covers it with snow before other guards notice.
It drives gepard insane. He doesnt understand it. He knows so many of sampos tricks, where he usually vanishes, knows where and when he'll appear. Hes found hints of his hideouts underground, out in the snow plains. He could arrest him. He could.
Gepard pulls back every time. He 'slips up', hesitates before slapping cuffs around sampo's wrists
The thing is. He'd miss the chase.
Sometimes, when gepard is exhausted and nearly falling asleep on his feet, he'll find still warm cups of coffee left at his secondary office at the front lines
Gepard thanks dunn and some other silvermane guards stationed with him, but none of them know what hes talking about.
Theres drawings on the paper cups, on the lids, smiley faces and swirly hearts. Gepard realizes its from sampo and it makes him feel. Strange. Its the best coffee hes ever had
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thechekhov · 1 year
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Dungeon Meshi: Quick Reacts (CHAPTER 1)
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Hey guys, what’s up! I’ve been neglecting to read things for a long time, being as busy as I am, but I thought it was about time I actually consume some media instead of making it for once. That’s the healthy way of doing it, I hear!
Anyway, since I like to react to the things I read, I figured I may as well record my reactions to the manga known as ‘Dungeon Meshi’ or ‘Delicious in Dungeon’ as its localized title. 
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You can read the manga on your own here! Or find it elsewhere, though I encourage you to support the artist as much as you’re able. 
I cannot promise that this will be an ongoing series, I just wanted to have a bit of fun with it. This read-and-comment liveblog will contain spoilers - obviously!
Let’s get right into it!
For the sake of clarity - this comics reads RIGHT to LEFT!
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Immediately, this is way more intense than what I was expecting! I thought this was gonna be cutesy, but this is straight up intense! I wonder how the eating portion of the story will tie into--
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ah.
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Gotta say, this style is one of my favorites. This is such a simple yet expressive way of drawing characters, distinguishing them and yet keeping it mildly realistic! It’s a delight to see. 
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The resource scarcity realism is.,.. impressive. I wonder if the author based it off of a specific videogame or a ttrpg? I know TTRPGs aren’t huge in Japan, but this really does have fantastically recognizable RPG vibes. 
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This is great, but I have to comment on the fact that (unsurprisingly) this is such a Japanese array of foods. It reminds me of an izakaya menu. Specifically the ‘thick-cut bacon’ bit - what is called ‘bacon’ in Japan is not bacon as Americans know it. It’s the same cut of meat, but it’s not cured nor smoked... It’s simply HAM. 😂 
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Shockingly, I really can sense that these guys are friends with just a few pages.
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What do you mean ‘noo’??? It’s literally a giant ass mushroom 
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I think I can honestly this this is the point at which I realized I might just love Laios. 
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you may not like it, but this is the ideal man. rabid and ready to cook anything he finds at a moment’s notice. 
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IT’S A WOK. I THOUGHT IT WAS A SHIELD. HE’S CARRYING AROUND A POT ON HIS BACK. Incredible.11/10
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I do so appreciate the seasoned-adventurer energy here. She straight up said ‘oh huh this thing killed me once before! a traumatic memory! neat!’ and then got right back to it. 
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Never have I wanted to create a character based around this whole concept more than I do now. 
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oh I SEE. 😂
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silverzoomies · 6 months
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Politely requesting “he’s so…” for Jimmy Darling and James March, please and thank you.
💙 nsfw ahead !! pretty filthy, just a warning !! 💙 
"he's so" headcanons under the cut. so im not crowding up anyone's dash with my bullshit !! these might be wayyyy off,, pleasse do not trust my judgement at all. also, liz, i adore you just fyi ty !!
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💙 james march is so... 💙
he's so watches you at a distance solely with the intent to kill. bloodthirsty af. starts to notice how much of an innocent, little thing you are. you heart is purer than his could ever be in a thousand lifetimes. he keeps his distance for some time, but then you start to notice him. maybe he'll try and dance with you, so close you can feel his breath on your skin. listening to oldies you've never heard a day in your life. but he knows every lyric. every note. every beat. you can smell cigarette smoke on him. he reeks of it. along with...something else. but you'll never be able to place it. you can't seem to figure out why he's so ghostly pale. or why he gazes at you with a pitch black, void-like coldness in his eyes. He lures you in with promises of romance. tempting you into intimate, love making sessions. he'll ruin your perception of men forever. because no other man could treat you with such careful, sultry attention as he does. there's something almost...sinister about the way he touches you. his cold hands feel for your pulse points. making note of the jumps in your heartbeat. he touches your body, squeezing the muscles hiding beneath your delicate skin. you won't know it, but he's thinking about how aesthetically beautiful you must be on the inside. literally. he's thinking your innards are probably lovely. when you're finally together as one, his length moves with slow elegance inside you. drawing out your pleasurable suffering for as long as possible. he'll overstimulate you until you're sobbing. until you beg him to stop. but he won't. he'll grab your jugular and make you see white. in the end, you won't survive. your death will be gruesome and painful. someday, he'll regret having killed you.
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💙jimmy darling is so...💙
he's so diner date with a shared milkshake. orders whatever flavor you like. he has eyes like black cocoa. and, honey, they're lookin' you up and down every few minutes. he flirts nonstop. finds any and every excuse to touch you. patting you on the shoulder. guiding you along with a big hand on your back. grazing gloved knuckles over your arm mid conversation. he's pretty forward. unapologetically so. once he finally has you one-on-one, he tries to take things a little further. isn't afraid to be direct. but - ah...the two of you keep gettin' interrupted. he'll be leaning in for a smooch, a hand on your hip; but someone walks in. maybe it's eve, askin' his assistance settin' up new banners. sometimes, you find him stumbling around, drunk off his ass. it breaks your heart how often it happens. but he's so horny about it. says a lot of raunchy shit to you when he's completely smashed. it makes you blush. when he's hungover, he's grumpy as hell. his frustration'll slip in little ways, but he apologizes once he's sobered up. overall, he's real sweet on you. very sweet. even gets a little bashful once you're finally making out. he tastes like the booze he drinks on the daily. he'll get really handsy. and his hands are so, so massive and warm. they grab you hard, focusing careful attention to the squishy parts of you he loves so much. would take his time in bed with you. eases himself in slow, with consideration for your comfort. even though every instinct in him wants to stuff you so full so fast, you'll be aching for weeks. gets vocal, calls you little petnames. fixates mostly on your pleasure because that's what he's used to doin'. he doesn't expect you to focus too hard on his needs. but when you do, he's pleasantly surprised. cums a little sooner than he meant to. he'll lie with you afterwards. daydreams about stealing you away. maybe he'll run off you with you. make you his little housewife. but nah. he can't do that. his family needs him. he wonders if you'd be willing to stick around.
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sanjisblackasswife · 1 year
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What I think the Monster Trio’s Dick Look Like(NSFW)
Ft. Zoro, Luffy, Sanji
A/N: I’m a pervert…I’m bored…and I may end up drawing this so…yeah. Also this isn’t TOO descriptive considering idk how tf to describe a man’s tallywackle.
Luffy
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About 4-5 inches on soft and hard. He can stretch it out so have fun with that.
He has one small vein you don’t really see or feel unless he is hard or about to cum
Pretty lightly brown and pink tip, doesn’t curve, his family jewels aren’t huge but they’re not that small either you can like pop em in your mouth ig
No pubic hair: he just doesn’t grow any down there
He cums A LOT (not as much as Sanji) and if semen And Dick has specific tastes depending on a man’s diet then they both taste terrible because of his terrible diet
Twitches uncontrollably when you blow on it
It gets friggin huge when he is using Gear 2-4
When he is in Gear 5 it naturally grows 3 inches and it’s thicker with his vein protruding out more
Zoro
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Absolutely the most thickest out of the three, could compare the thickness to a banana
Pretty tan with a brown tip and pink/red undertone. Blushes a lot when he’s hard
He’s a grower not a shower; 4 inches soft, 7.2 hard.
Curved slightly to the right 2 large veins under and on top of his shaft
Hairy ass monkey down there—his happy trail is absolutely dark green with a hint of black btw
Hefty ass balls I mean what the hell man
Reminds me of a damn bull
When it does twitch you barely notice it
Just like Luffy his Dick and semen would probably not taste that great. You know how some guys say women that they’ve eaten out taste like pennies? Well yeah he’d taste like a very faint metal of some kind so hold your breath ladies
Cums like a damn river and if you don’t start breathing through your nose you will choke
His Dick print shows a lot when he wears pants so he man spreads most of the time
Will throw hands if you say his Dick is his 4th sword worth it
Sanji
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Yeah let’s pretend my user name doesn’t exists and I’m totally not being biased right now.
Pretty dick it’s so pretty
He is the longest out of the three, 7.4 all around, but very skinny. He has one large vein up the side of his cock up to the tip
Speaking of tip I want his so bad
His tip is of course a pretty pink, is naturally blushed idk if that’s a thing but let’s roll with it
Alsways fucking semi hard because he is a horny bastard
Can hide it very well in his slacks usually takes him a few minutes though
His happy trail/pubic hair is so pretty, nicely trimmed for the ladies he can’t seduce and the same color of his beard.
Taste like nothing? Like skin like lick the back of your palm and that’s what it taste like.
Oh wait he smokes like a train
Okay it’s still not the best taste but it’s better than Zoro’s and Luffy’s
I heard semen can be really watery so I’m giving him that HC. Because look at him.
Once he cums he literally can’t stop it’s like him bleeding through his nose but his nose is his Dick and the blood is semen so…have fun with the mess
I Petition Oda to give this man some 🐱 before the series end tysm.
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lunerenzo · 10 months
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more prison gf! Ymir hcs ♡
♱ Content. drugs, swearing, fluff , NSFW , not proofread, pls let me know if i missed anything :)
♱ Notes. I see yall love her just as much as me 😋. These are just hcs of her when shes out of jail.
♱ Word count. 848
Pt. 1
REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
lower case intentional, Enjoy!
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prison gf! ymir…who knows how to do your everyday make up and for some reason it always looks better even though she does the exact same steps as you. as well as the more extravagant ones, like the type of make up naezrah does, it always looks amazing cause she has such a steady hand. there is only one rule when she does your make it’s that you HAVE to be straddling her waist when she does it.
prison gf! ymir…who knows all your orders by heart (even your long ass starbucks order) and will order for you so that you don’t have to.
prison gf! ymir…who will side eye you and will order for you anyways if you say “oh im not hungry” while ordering take-out.
prison gf! ymir…who will smack tf out of your hand if you try taking her food with out asking first. somehow you still end up with half of it and she has a small scowl on her face but she still loves you.
prison gf! ymir… who REFUSES to let you smoke her product or get involved in her business no matter how many times you beg and plead.
prison gf! ymir…whos had a polaroid of you in her phone case.
prison gf! ymir…who makes fun of you for eating mint chocolate or cookie n’ cream (whichever you prefer) as if she dosen’t eat pistachio.
prison gf! ymir…who will knock your ice cream on the floor if you make fun of her for it. (don't worry she’ll buy you another.)
prison gf! ymir…who owns two cats with you and if your petting her cat ( you have a “child” and the other is hers) she will grab him and say “leave my son alone”.
prison gf! ymir… who knew you in hs and you were one of her dalma’s when she had her quince. You picked the dresses and if any one complains she would give them the nastiest stank eye.
prison gf! ymir…who was all giddy when she found out her contact name was “pretty girl🩷” with the contact photo of her in her quince dress.
prison gf! ymir…who has a pintrest board for you guys future wedding and has it privited so you don’t know.
prison gf! ymir…who follows you on pintrest and buys you stuff based off what you pin.
prison gf! ymir…who wears this cologne that makes you weak in the knees. before you guys moved in she would spray extra on so that your apartment still smelt like her after she left.
prison gf! ymir…who if she feels like it or is around when you get your nails done will get a matching set with you.
prison gf! ymir…who loves going to the beach with you.
prison gf! ymir…who will carry everything from the car with the maddest look on her face but you better not help cause she will tell you to “push off”. like damn my bad.
prison gf! ymir…who will be sitting there looking like a fucking guard dog if your tanning. let a volleyball accidentally lands near you. she ready to catch another felony.
prison gf! ymir…who will give the ball back, buck at ‘em, and will call them a “pussy” if they flinch.
prison gf! ymir…who is big australia hater
prison gf! ymir...who instigate fights at the waffle house.
prison gf! ymir…who is a big cory and berlezzy fan. like she ALWAYS quoting berlin.
prison gf! ymir…who, if your an artist, keeps every drawing that youve made of her. 
prison gf! ymir…who will be all over you if you wear a skin revealing/ clinging outfit. no matter if you rarely wear stuff like that or most of the time. this is the main reason why you guys are late to parties sometimes. homegirl is struggling with her self control. most of the time she does a good job others? *evil laughter*.  
prison gf! ymir…who loves spoiling you and got you a custom necklace that says your name and a pandora bracelet for your birthday. then got you a chrome hearts necklace for valentines day.
prison gf! ymir…who picks up everything you put down in the store and doesn't care about the price. if you worried about spending her money she’ll tell you it’s fine cause “your worth going broke for ma” with a kiss to seal the deal
prison gf! ymir…who will buy you anything the moment your eyes start tearing up and that little pout comes out. Then she will kiss that little pout away no matter how many it takes.
prison gf! ymir…who buys a strap in your favourtie color.
prison gf! ymir…who would apologize if you tell her its to much and then immediately slams her hips afterwards. 
prison gf! ymir…who would kiss your tears away and say “aww don’t cry”.
prison gf! ymir…who whines and bucks her hips like a bitch in heat when you give her head.
prison gf! ymir…who grips your hair so hard she damn near rips it out. If you have a wig on don’t worry she’ll pay to get it reinstalled but damnit you just put it in. now you hairstylist is cussing you out.
prison gf! ymir...who is absolutely inlove with you.
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♱ A/N. My favorite jailbird ❤️. Also THANK YOU @hotxcheeto FOR HELPING ME WITH SOME OF THESE. MWAH.
© 2023 lunerenzo, please don’t plagiarize work or translate work.
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merakiui · 8 months
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VNSJSCJSKKGKSKWKF PUNK JADE????? as a jade stan i am CLAWING my walls istg
so we have himbo jock virgin floyd,, WE HAVE TO ELABORATE ON PUNK JADE CUZ THE THOUGHT OF HIM JUST MAKES MY WORLD SHAKE
seriously still kicking my legs at that tag omg the thought of punk jade fkkfjsjjc like those stereotypical wattpad bad boys but somehow he's a little more charming and... tolerable (to an extent), i guess...
he leans on lockers, probably rides a motorcycle his rich ass mafia father gifted him, and is definitely brooding and mysterious, but oh my god is it so attractive... you don't mind and it's as if you were put into a spell; especially after you realize you're tangled up in the sheets of his bed, your mind hazy and memories hardly legible <3 you realize he's just as bad as his brother but then again, he's soooo much better in bed, you don't mind in the slightest anymore !!! <33333
fjsjjfjdkrjv i'm just spilling my brain worms now jade has affected me once again
— (a new-ish follower named star hehe <3)
orz punk Jade is so fine omg,,,,,, he has so many piercings, a few very intricate tattoos here and there, and in my heart he kills it on the electric guitar. <3 he rizzes you up with just a few chords and you know his fingers do more than skillfully play chords. Omg omg and he has a split tongue!!!!!!! He always wears his hair in messy styles, uses hair gel to keep it spiky when he wants it to be, and maybe he smokes on occasion; perhaps even coerces you into smoking. >:) getting high with him is an experience omg,,,,,,, maybe you hotboxed with him in Floyd's van once and the two of you kissed a few times and you learned that he's so good at kissing???? So much better than Floyd, and you have to wonder how he's leagues better when Floyd's so social, loved (and feared) by all, popular enough to be with anyone he wants. Jade's just so alluring in a way that his twin isn't. Whereas Floyd's all broad shoulders and bulk and muscle, Jade's all lean muscle and willowy and agile.
You don't trust him to take you for an innocent ride on his motorcycle, so Jade suggests using Floyd's van for stuff. Floyd doesn't really care because he's so busy with sports; his van is already messy enough (he draws the line at cum stains, though. At least, cum stains that don't belong to Floyd himself lol). It's a little unfair that Jade's really good at sex because you want to experience all of this technique with Floyd (who has yet to make you cum with his dick, mind you). Jade just knows what tips you over the edge. He wrings orgasms out of you like he's trying to prove something, and maybe he is. You never really paid much mind to him because he was the "quiet twin," the one who, despite his notable fashion and style, didn't really draw your eye.
Jade just loves showing up in your life when you're trying to avoid him and his bad influence. He teases you about that all the time, playfully calls you good girl/boy/goody-goody when you insist you're only visiting his apartment to see Floyd. He has the stickiest, sleaziest smile on his face when he lets you in, speaking in that mocking drawl of his, "You know Floyd has practice at this time, right?" And god you want to punch him, kick him in his dick, tear his hair out. But you don't because you can't. Because he's addicting. Because he's good at fucking you and talking to you and being your friend and making sure you're safe and sound when you have a bad trip and asking if it feels good when he lays you down in Floyd's van and ruts into you like he has all the time in the world. You hate him, but then you don't because he's so much better than Floyd. And of course you still like Floyd, but he doesn't hit in the way Jade does.
You wake up in his bed more times than you can count, twisted up in the sheets or, more recently, in his arms, and Jade has such a fun time teasing you for it. But then he's so tender in the mornings, so soft and gentle, caressing your cheek or pressing kisses over the marks he left the night prior. The two of you are way more than friends, but neither of you say anything to make it official and so you're stuck in a situationship that feels so comfortable and enjoyable.
Omg and when he plays the guitar for you....... orz Jade is the worst thing to ever happen to you (or so you adamantly claim), but he's also the best because if it weren't for him you'd never form such a genuine connection with him. <3 also, he opened your third eye. You shouldn't settle for bad, sloppy sex with his brother when he can fuck you six ways from Sunday and leave you satisfied each time. He takes immense pride in this, too. Annoying, but you love him. You really, truly, honestly do.
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empty-movement · 1 year
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sorry but please... post your akio plastic covered couch tweet here... the world needs to know...
Warning: pics of gross shit happening on the couches
I'll do you one better and include the STORY! So, I, Vanna (note: Yasha mostly does the Tumblr and I mostly do the Twitter,) was smoking enough weed to knock out a large horse or put a very tiny dent in my constant back and shoulder pain, as one does when when they're a middle-aged Registered Nurse in the year 2023. (I'm 39 but it's an old 39, lmao.)
Scrolling through Twitter, I stumble on a fanart of Suletta from Witch of Mercury sitting goofily on a white couch. Now I haven't seen this show yet, but the white couch....looked familiar, and I know the show is very much a descendent of Utena in terms of creative teams. For those that don't know, the series is written by Ichirō Ōkouchi, who also wrote the two Revolutionary Girl Utena novelizations...which if you didn't know about before, you know about now, and can read translated on our site here! (Warning: Touga and Miki uh, in the novels...)
Anyways, so I hop onto my own website and start downloading the images that will constitute receipts, before realizing 1. these images are all on multiple computers feet away from me, 2. the couch isn't an identical match, 3. that'd have been weird anyway, and most importantly, 4:
AKIO'S COUCHES DON'T LOOK RIGHT. OBSERVE:
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The edges of the armrests have sloppier upholstery than the blanket I have covering my computer desk. I took the time to tuck seams at least. What is this??
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Now it could absolutely be leather, I thought. It would absolutely track. But leather upholstery doesn't look like this. It doesn't wrinkle quite this way. It would have cleaner seams.
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No. No that's too shiny for leather. So here I am, presented with this strangeness I'd never really considered in how Akio's couch is drawn, and having spent the last few months learning about my Italian-American family history, my chemically altered ass came to the only reasonable conclusion:
Akio Ohtori has plastic coverings on his white couches, like he's a depression era American in poverty.
Fuck yeah, I though, A HIT TWEET, there, at the end of all Tweeting things. (Yeah I'm working on that, stay tuned, lmao. I of all people know when to bail on stupid men with stupid power.) Because I am me, I framed it as semi serious by pulling a context to explain it out of my ass:
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I was joking.
But the replies? They were not. And then I thought about it some more. And I've kept thinking about it. Do I seriously think Ikuhara and Co literally are intentionally drawing a plastic covered couch? Doesn't that feel, Vanna, like a bit of a stretch, even for Utena meta?
Listen to that CRONCH when Akio sits down in episode 31, before Anthy is seen by Nanami. Look, the buttons on the back rest don't quite fit, but the rest? Yeah it kinda does. I was high, but not wrong!?
Akio *does* surround himself with a bizarre hodgepodge of Americana as an aesthetic. The arm garters. The piping and cut of his cowboy-ass shirt. His American car. His mullet. His miniature fucking golf. Why not the plastic covered couch? It's a trope of American poverty that would absolutely have fallen neatly into the diet of American pop culture that influenced Ikuhara. (He makes references to E.T. and The Godfather and Suspiria and all kinds of things in his other work, Utena itself is a little less obvious with individual references but inherits HUGE amounts of vibes from the same content--Ikuhara and Co watched Lost Highway in theaters during the production of the Akio Arc and I will not be convinced otherwise.)
So yeah. That's the story, and that's the theory. Do I seriously believe it was deliberate? Maybe. Probably. Possibly. But it fits so well it's headcanon for me, and in the Utena fandom, pretty much all canon is kind of headcanon so enjoy this one.
What an asshole.
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enviedear · 6 months
Text
nervous neighbor ⟶ ben solo
description ⌙ you're back at home from university, living with your parents for the summer because it's cheaper than trying to pay for an apartment while on a student's salary. but after you meet the new neighbor's son, ben solo, you're not so sure it's worth it.
pairing ⌙ neighbor!ben solo x f!reader
warnings ⌙ inebriated reader & ben, they're smoking weed and being petty together, mean!ben because when do i not make him a bit mean, ben jokingly attempts to solicit reader, reader has a blatant sort of fascination with ben, ben has severe blatant yearning for reader, reader is described to need a belt to wear ben's pants (don't question me it comes up), some high kisses (they're so fun oops), somewhat getting caught, tiny little bitty cliffhanger, ben's personality is totally based off this brent faiyaz song lmao
word count ⌙ 3.5k
— request (frl especially for ben/kylo) | masterlist
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i love the idea of neighbor!ben so ofc i had to put my thoughts into a little fic! if anyone is interested... i wouldn't be mad at making this a series. i love neighbor!ben!
the sun is low in the sky, casting a warm and appreciated golden glow on the world around you. you revel in the sanctity of the suburban environment as you step outside your front door. the rays burn into your exposed shoulders, spaghetti straps lightly digging into the skin.
the fragrant scent of freshly cut grass hangs heavy in the air, leaving an earthy flavor in your mouth. you pull at the hem of your shorts, feeling the soft fabric brush against your exposed thighs as you make your way to the black mailbox straight ahead.
you flip through bills and junk mail, all in your parent's name for a minute before you hear the unmistakable rev of a car engine approaching. the engine seems to purr the closer it gets, and you're all too familiar with the sound. you feel glued to your spot as it approaches.
soon enough, ben solo's sleek aston martin swerves into his driveway, coming to a stop just a few feet away from his closed garage door. you watch as he gets out of the car, his dark hair falling messily over his forehead, and meets your gaze with his severe brown eyes.
there’s something about the way he looks at you that causes your heart to race. the sensation is unwanted or, at least, you tell yourself it is.
he looks like he always does; clad in dress pants and a pristine button-up, face etched with subtle haughtiness, and pink lips curved into a deliciously heretical grin. the previous sanctity you felt dissipates as his stare beats down on you, hotter and more all-consuming than the sun above.
"neighbor." he anoints, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "how much allowance are mommy and daddy giving you for checking their mail?"
"very funny," you retort, eyes rolling, "maybe they're drawing from the same funds your parents did when they bought you that ridiculous car."
you liked playing this game with ben. where he attempts to seem as if he's got something over you, some unspoken win. as if you're not both twenty-somethings still living with your parents.
he does have an actual retirement plan type job though, so, perhaps, he has you beat in some areas.
he works full-time, a fact you learned after dinner with your parents and his. brought up by your parents so they could dote on him— effectively buttering up han and leia further. the ass-kissing earned the family privileges to their in-ground pool though.
he's pretty prestigious, unfortunately. ben organa-solo, the youngest associate at his legal firm. he apparently had over forty offers of employment before he ever even looked at the bar exam.
he's doing well, sure— but the sheer fact that he still lives with his parents is enough to quell your nuanced jealousy. somewhat.
"my db-nine can never be called ridiculous. do you know the specs on this car?" he taunts, opting to lean against his aforementioned car.
you begin to turn away from him, not willing to go into a conversation regarding his stupidly expensive automobile. you can feel your ears warming as you try to ignore him, but ben is relentless, as usual, "you know, you really should relax a little, i'm only joking, kid.."
"excuse me?" you snap, fronting him again and crossing your arms defensively, "i am plenty relaxed, solo. thank you very much."
in truth, you haven't been relaxed or even casual since the organa-solo's moved in eight months ago. wealthy and recently retired, leia and han are amusing, charming, and almost constantly travelling.
the pair managed to befriend your parents the second they moved in. bringing over a plate of brownies, the duo easily meshed with your parents, making for countless dinners, conversations, and visits between the two homes.
the opposite can be said for ben and you. when you finally met him, a few weeks after his parents moved in, it was because he was yelling at your dog for 'purposely' pissing on one of his tires. since then, you haven't exactly seen eye to eye.
"mhm, of course," he drawls sarcastically, "that's why you're always so wound up,” he’s smirking now, "you ever thought about smoking a joint or something? might help you chill out."
"really?" you scoff, raising an eyebrow, "that's your solution? drugs?" you choose to ignore his quip about you being tightly wound. as if he's not— you've seen him after work, he always looks tense, shoulders tight. at the recollection of his job title makes you almost comment on his choice of illegal activity, but you stop yourself.
maybe this was his vice after hours of listening to legal jargon?
"i'm just offering a suggestion. i've got pot and an empty house." his voice is biting, holding his hands up defensively, "take it or leave it, kid."
your mind is wrought with confusion over his words. in the few months you’ve known him, you would have never thought he’d be suggesting what he is.
ben solo, who drives an aston martin, only wears button-ups or suits, and is always willing to make you look or feel idiotic, is trying to convince you to smoke pot with him.
you worry for a brief second if you’re deluded.
you would have never suspected the famed judiciary to unwind in such a way.
no, your first guess would have been whiskey, or maybe something a bit more scandalized and indecent. you try to shake that idea out of your head.
"fine," you blurt it out before you can stop yourself, surprising both you and the arrogant figure in front of you.
"seriously?" ben questions, his eyes widening in apprehension. "you're actually going to do it?"
"yeah, solo," you shrug, drawing out the first word, trying to sound more resolved than you feel, "nothing i haven’t done before."
"okay, cheech," he mutters, grinning wickedly, "let me smoke you out."
you follow him into his house, heart pounding in your chest. you're familiar with the layout— almost identical to your own home, only nicer. everything is nicer.
the air inside is cool and smells faintly of lavender, mixed with something decadent you can’t quite place. glancing around the space, you take it all in. it feels different now that you're alone with ben. less homey and more belly of the beast.
there are windows everywhere, letting in an abundance of natural light despite the evident tint. the furniture is modern and obviously hand-picked though comfortable and no doubt, expensive.
you try to make yourself cozy on the couch, tucking your legs underneath you. ben disappears for a moment and returns with a tray, a red grinder, a lighter, and a baggie of green herbs.
your hands go clammy as you watch him grind it down. you try to wipe them on your pants, hoping he doesn’t notice.
he doesn’t seem to, instead beginning to roll a joint, packing the herb down with his thumb. his movements, precise and hypnotic. he's defiling all previous conclusions you had of him. he’s sure, magnetic, and undeniably confusing.
“ready?” he asks, holding the rolled paper out to you. you nod, and he lights up the twisted end, inhaling deeply before passing it over to you.
you place the joint to your lips, feeling the warmth of the light spark grazing your fingers. the earthy plant kindles with a soft crackle, and you inhale deeply. smoke fills your lungs, coiling inside you.
the cloudy smoke immediately hits your entire sinus system, choking you on its descent down.
you cough and ben laughs, “shit, take it slow, kid.” he huffs, before handing you a tepid water bottle, no question he figured you'd wind up coughing a lung.
you drink gratefully, feeling the water cleanse your burning throat. you look at ben, who’s watching you intently.
your eyes are watery and slightly hazy, but ben has never look better. eyes red and low, posture easy with one arm behind his head, and faint pink flush.
“what?” you ask, self-conscious. the room seems to swirl around as ben sits beside you, close enough that you can feel the heat of his body.
"nothing, neighbor," his stare is mocking, "do you feel relaxed yet?" he asks with a smirk.
you give him a meager thumbs-up, suddenly lightheaded and giggly. your thoughts are wondering to ben's pretty lips, but your mouth remains whetted and silent. adorning thoughts remaining within your capricious mind.
the tension in your body melts away, and you lean back against the couch cushions, letting out a deep sigh. ben's hand brushes against yours to steal the joint away, and you feel the heat of his touch all the way to your toes. it's as if the world has narrowed down to just the two of you, and nothing else exists.
“are you cold?” he asks, taking a drag, dress shirt sleeves rolled up, leaving his arms on full display.
you look at him, bewildered for a second, and he continues with an eye roll, “you’re shivering.”
looking down at your body, you note that you indeed are. either from the weed or the proximity you have to your novel neighbor.
with a gentle breath, you reply, “i guess.”
he holds the joint with his lips as he stands to look down at you, “c’mon i’ve got blankets in my room.”
you look up at him, unsure of what to say, but find yourself bobbing in agreement. you follow him upstairs, the both of you languid in reaching the destination. when you do finally get to his room, you note the array of muted jewel tones and dim light, different than the rest of the house.
ben keeps his blinds partially closed and curtains that mostly fall in front of them. his bed is huge, pristine white sheets and an inviting navy bedspread.
you watch as he pulls out a thick woolen blanket from his closet and spreads it over your shoulders. you feel the weight of it settle over you, cocooning you in warmth.
"better?" he asks, voice low.
you nod again, feeling the hazy ardor of the drug swimming through your body. everything feels fuzzy, and for the first time you don't feel so out of place with ben.
he takes a seat beside you on his all too comfortable bed, the aroma of his pomelo-scented cologne filling your senses. you discern it's probably dangerous in some way to be alone with ben like this, but you can't seem to bring yourself to care or reason why.
you let yourself peer into his large and expansive open closet. clothes, mostly suits and dress shirts, hang neatly on identical black hangars. he's tidy. the fact feels unmistakable, and you think you should already know just by the way he carries himself.
ben's voice interrupts your absent mind, "anything you like?"
you look back at him, leaning up against the headboard of his bed, joint billowing smoke from its rested position in his fingers. he looks less severe like this, less perfect, more mortal.
you're certain the drug has taken effect now because when you move to get closer to him, it feels as if you're floating.
you take the joint from him, stealing another hit before replying, "you just have a lot of suits. i wonder if you own anything besides them. i've never seen you in anything but."
"is this one of your long-winded jokes?" he briefly closes his eyes, but you can see them roll through his lids, "because if so, i'll kick you out. i won't hesitate to send you back to your house, neighbor."
snorting, you take yet another hit of the joint, "i did see something i liked, actually." you confess, your drugged mind deciding to be just a bit genuine.
he hums, "really? i've never seen you in a suit, or anything formal."
the sentence sounds stupid coming out of ben's mouth, but you chalk it up to his tipsy state, "maybe you will. one day."
your reply sounds equally as dumb, but you feel good, and you're actually having a conversation with ben. one that doesn't involve him undermining you or snickering at what you're saying.
"really? wanna try mine on? for practice." ben is smirking, eyes narrow, searing, and bloodshot.
you give him a ditzy look, joint still dangling from your fingers, "whatever, solo."
ben lets out a genuine giggle at that, and in your inebriated state, you smile at the sound. his dimples are on full display as he leans further into his cushioned headboard, eyes glazed and focused purely at you, "i'll pay, if you do."
his face is gentle, almost winsome, but the words that tumble out of his mouth sound murky— riddled with a slight hint of hunger. for what exactly? you're not sure.
your lips contort into a frown before you reply, "you'll pay me to put on your clothes? god, ben how much did you smoke?"
you mean for your words to come off as a joke, easy and light. instead, it comes out as timid and shy. you'd normally feel a tinge of embarrassment but either the drug or ben's starved stare makes the would-be feeling detach from your mind.
"enough." he shrugs, answering your rhetorical question, "i've got five hundred in my wallet right now," he pauses, leaning over to you and grabbing the joint, fingers brushing against yours, "and i want a show."
your mind seems to blank for a second, leaving you to blink your dry, red eyes in front of him. when the small wave of shock subdues, you reply, "i don't know how to give you a show."
ben shakes his head slightly, his eyes still set on yours, “yeah you do. swear it's not hard, kid.”
“says you,” you giggle, “but i’ll try on your clothes. for the money.”
he breathes in, contented, “for the money.”
without much more thought, you rise from his plush bed and make way for the closet. it's big enough to be another room, a stark contrast from your own closet, and it smells of his citrusy cologne merged with the lavender scent throughout the home. you find it comforting.
you look back over your shoulder, ben's watching you intently from his seated position, "what should i start with, solo?"
he hums before replying, "your pick, neighbor. what's mine is yours."
you can't help the dorky smile that graces your lips at his sentiment, even though you know he's being flippant. you hastily turn away from him, hiding your weak-willed reaction.
taking a deep breath, you begin to rummage through his wardrobe. your fingers brush against the luxurious fabric of his suits before settling on a satin black button-up that looks silky smooth to the touch.
you grab it and turn around to face ben, who's now standing and walking towards you, his eyes fixed on the shirt in your hand.
"that's a good choice," he says, his voice low and husky, "you'll look better in it than i do."
you roll your eyes at his comment but can't help the warmth that shoots through your body at his words. you quickly slip it over your cropped tank, eager to see it on.
as you're buttoning it up, you feel his swarthy eyes on you, watching your every move. you can't help but feel giddy with his ardent gaze and your own euphoric state of mind.
as you finish up the last button, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the ornate mirror hung upon one of the closet walls. you look decadent in his pompous shirt.
the feeling of contentment that washes over you is startling.
it's a beautiful cut of fabric, but it's the way it represents the achieved man behind you that has you stalling. you notice ben's breath hitch as he takes in the sight of you.
"i was right. it looks much better on you." he says, his voice rough.
you grin at him, feeling a newfound confidence wash over you, "is that right, solo?" you question, your demeanor one of leisure.
without warning, ben steps forward, right hand coming to rest on your shoulder as he leans down to you, "here," he says, his breath hot against your ear, "you missed the first button."
his fingers dance at your chest, fastening the skipped button. you fight a smile at the act, keening at his rash action. high ben is certainly less sardonic than sober ben, finding a nice middle ground at graceful teasing.
"you pick the pants, and grab a belt so that they'll fit." you smile.
he hums, pulling away and trifling through his clothes. his nimble fingers card through various pairs of slacks, settling on a matching black pair.
he turns on his heels, facing you. he raises his brows, a silent request for you to take the pants. when you do, his hands begin to fumble with his belt.
your eyebrows scrunch in confusion, "what are you doing?"
"i want you to wear this one. just let me play dress up with you, doll." his black locks are falling into his eyes.
you huff out a weak chuckle, focused on his action and new endearment. when the belts slides away from him, you notice the way his slacks droop slightly.
with a curt and nervous smile, you slide up the dark pants, fitting his belt around your hips afterward.
you study yourself in the mirror, opting to tuck the shirt into the pants messily— an attempt to somewhat display your waist.
ben comes up behind you, hands resting on your shoulders, humming into the top of your head, "i quite like you this way. ever thought about getting an office job for me?"
you give him a sarcastic pout, "for you?"
he smiles, canines showing, "yeah, doll, just for me."
you're dizzy at his words, "yeah, then who'd watch my parent's house all day? it's a full-time job being a stay-at-home daughter, you know."
ben groans a bit at your words, "that makes you sound like a little brat, you know." he drawls out the last two words, mocking.
you smirk, facing him now, lips becoming level with his when he leans down to stare into your eyes, "my mom calls me a brat sometimes. she says i'm never going to find someone acting like one," you pause for a beat, "d'you agree, ben?"
at the emphasis of his first name he sighs and lets his hands fall to your waist, "i agree that you're a fuckin' brat," he cranes his head closer, breath brushing against your lips, "but i don't think i mind very much."
your eyes flutter against your better judgment, and ben takes an evident note of the fact. his hands tighten at your waist, fingers digging in possessively. you feel a beat of caution before it flies away from your resolution. you press forward just as he does the same, lips meeting in a slow, heady, absolutely exalting kiss.
ben's fingers dig into you, timidly pulling you further into him. you crumble at his touch, hands fisting into his hair as he deepens the kiss further. he tastes of sweet honey and sunlight that fills you with warmth and affection.
you're both weakly fighting for more— an incessant craving for each other that quickly overtakes your common sense. the looming man continues to cast an unbreakable spell with each aching kiss as his gentle hands caress every inch of exposed skin on your body.
you let his hands fumble with the buttons of the borrowed shirt, slowly slipping it away from you. it brushes past your shoulders, and ben breaks the hungry kisses to trail sloppy ones on your exposed neck.
you're lost in the feeling of him— all-consuming. neither one of you willing to be pulled back to reality— but eventually you both have to break away from one another with heavy breaths and flushed cheeks. ben looks down at you with an amused grin on his face before planting a chaste kiss on the top of your head.
you hum and he mutters against you, "you like that? hm?"
"duh," you steal a glance up, "feels s'nice." there's a stupid grin stuck to your face.
"you taste so good, doll," he places a teasing kiss at the dip at the bottom of your neck, "and your lips are so fucking soft."
you give him a questioning look, lips upturned, "really? sounds wild coming from the same man that just called me a brat."
he hums darkly, "you being a brat," he places another kiss to your exposed neck, "just makes this little game of ours more interesting," one of his hands lifts your chin, pulling you closer, "c'mere, kid."
his lips are back on yours, less languid and with much more fervor. you feel so full in his arms. divinely entangled in the coveted luxury of ben organa-solo.
suddenly, you hear commotion from downstairs, drugged mind abruptly anxious.
"what's that?" your voice is barely above a whisper.
ben growls, "fuck— i'm sorry doll, i think my parents are home." you catch the faint flush on his cheeks.
you bite your lip, concerned, "but... i'm high. and wearing your clothes."
ben is about to say something else when the deep baritone of han solo's voice booms from behind his closed bedroom door, "come on out, son. the neighbor's are over for dinner. their daughter should be here soon," han's voice drops a bit, "and try to ease up on the flirting this time, okay?"
you stifle an uninhibited giggle, earning a glare from ben.
"yeah, sure. just let me get out of my work clothes," he peers down at you, eyes wicked, "don't want them to think it's all i own."
your eyes widen at his subtle dig, and he seems to revel in your amusement.
han grumbles something back before leaving. your breathing is erratic for a good few seconds. ben's hands remain on you, gentle grin on his lips.
"you heard the man. dinner." his voice is low, and you fight the urge to pull him into another kiss. the thought of more than kissing weighing heavily on your stoned mind.
your reply knocks the smile off of his face, "how are you going to explain the fact i'm already with you and high off my ass?"
he groans, head falling into the crook of your neck, "shit."
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