#snoggin you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bits-and-babs · 7 months

Text

✦ 𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐍 ✦

simon 'ghost' riley x f!reader (delta) | smut, 18+ | 4.1k

summary: you, soap and gaz make a silly bet at ghost's expense for an invaluable prize.

cw: mw3 spoiler free. 141 ridiculousness, humour, attempts to remove the mask resulting in life threatening (not really) injury, mild exhibitionism if you squint, very talkative ghost, 'interrogation' wink wink, unprotected p in v sex, reference to f receiving oral.

ghost mlist | main mlist | taglist

"Y'know, I'm sure as shit that L.t's got brown hair," Soap pipes up in the middle of the silence that had settled inside the safe house.

The members of Task Force 141 glance up one by one, querying eyes cast Soap's way as the guesstimated observation hangs in the air. It's louder than chopper blades, thudding against your skull and roaring in your ears as you attempt to recall the information you have on Ghost, what little physical attributes you can attribute to him. Each time, you hit a brick wall. The only image conjured in your minds-eye is the black voids of the mask's eyes and the piercing amber of his irises.

The wind howls outside, battering the windows with Wyoming snow and creeping in through the cracks in the panes. It makes a yowling sound as it slips through the crevices, carrying your memories of Ghost's appearance with it. He truly was like an apparition, there one moment, then gone altogether.

Gaz's brows crease in the middle, little crevices in the skin showing his mind working over the sentence.

"He doesn't," he eventually retorts, eyebrow cocked while shaking his head, "He's blonde."

"What makes you say that?" Price scoffs at his colleague's certainty, "You ever seen his face?"

The silence that follows makes the Captain chuckle. A wordless 'that's what I thought'.

"You willin' to bet on that?" Soap pushes Gaz with a lopsided smirk. There it is, that ridiculous playfulness that the Scotsman continuously let slip over coms. Simon had once reprimanded him for how it would get him killed– you were almost certain if he continued down this path in particular, he'd be in a box by daylight.

"I am," Gaz counters thoughtlessly, a smug lilt to his tone as he leans the crown of his head back against the rotting wooden wall, "He's got blonde eyelashes. He's gonna have blonde hair."

"What're ya gettin' so close tae him for?" Soap grins wide, loading the new ammunition and hitting a bullseye on the first shot, "You been snoggin' him or somethin'?"

"Lads," Price warns. It's only one word, but it says a lot; 'he'll have your head.' All of you know Simon 'Ghost' Riley well enough to know it's not a joke. Seen enough of the mangled bodies he left behind to know it wouldn't be clean, either. More like he'd hack your skull from your neck, picking out the dullest blade that'd struggle to slot between vertebrae.

"Bets on, then," Soap continues, white teeth gleaming in the low light, "First to confirm gets the honour of shootin' Hassan between the eyes."

It's like throwing a match at a body doused in diesel.

✰

The parameters of this wager are as follows... First: the competition is between you, Soap and Gaz. Price was ruled automatically exempt the moment he admitted he had, indeed, seen Ghost's face. It was a revelation that caused quite a storm- and a promise from Gaz of £100 if he'd tell.

The Captain, quite frankly, told him where to stick it.

Second: None of you could just ask Ghost himself. That was boring; no fun in that.

Thirdly, there are no other rules. Acquire the information by any means necessary to claim victory. Perhaps this rule should have been revised- because to say that 141's tactics for getting Ghost to reveal his face were a little unorthodox is an understatement of the highest order.

Despite his hulking frame, Ghost is like a cunning fox, cognizant of even the slightest changes in energy and hypervigilant of those approaching. The midnight void of his grease paint that frames his eyesockets contrasts the whites of his eyes as they dart back and forth between you all. He appears to have noted the devious scheming, practically hearing the cogs turning in your heads the moment he returned from his watch. Something is amiss, and you know Ghost knows it.

He says nothing.

Day One; the grumpy, black-clad special ops soldier sits back in his seat as he crosses his arms over his vast chest, cautiously observing the minute movements the three of you made. He'd bristled when Gaz stood from the sofa simply to enter another room, poised and ready to pounce at whatever fuckery the younger soldier would attempt.

"Hey, L.t.," Soap's drawl cuts through the humorously tense atmosphere in the room, and you brace yourself for his master plan. "When was the last time ye got a haircut?"

Ghost hesitates. Waits a beat. The silence stretches almost uncomfortably until he answers, thick, bassy voice almost booming in the box room. "What're you playin' at, Johnny?"

Soap shrugs his shoulders, exuding complete nonchalance as he settles into the seat across the table from the hulking mass of man. "Just wondered if the mask ever came off. How do you cut your hair?"

Amusement ripples through you in the sound of a chuckle, both men glancing your way. Ghost peers at you, suspicion pooling thick in his pupils.

"Shave it," Ghost rumbles bluntly, with an air of finality that leaves no room for argument or for Soap to encourage him to try something stupid like curtain bangs or, God forbid, a mohawk.

You can't help but grin from ear to ear as you watch the Scotsman's shoulders slump in defeat, already waving a white flag upon seeing how unwilling Ghost is to play whatever stupid game you're all partaking in. Even you can't deny the anxiety that prickles across your nerve endings when you see the way Ghost's biceps flex beneath the camo fabric of his uniform, primed for action.

When Ghost's aqua irises slide to you, your shoulders shrug comically, putting on the performance of your life to appear as though you had no idea what Johnny was up to. You see the way Ghost's blacked-out eyelids squint in suspicion. He doesn't believe you, but doesn't say as much.

Day Three and the polite, roundabout tactics had been discarded in favour of the nuclear option. Gaz had tried ambushing Ghost in the shower, opening the door without knocking as if pretending he didn't know the Lieutenant was in there. The door slammed so quickly into his head that an egg had been steadily growing on his forehead for the past hour and a half, blood seeping from his almost certainly broken nose.

"You'll stay out next time, Bravo 2-6, if you know what's good for you," Ghost had growled through the crack in the door before shutting it with a click of the lock.

Holding his face and slinking away, mortally wounded, Gaz uttered a humiliated 'Yes, lieutenant'.

Soap, clearly not having learnt from poor Gaz, decided that the next best option was a trip, so to speak. Executing a ludicrously overexaggerated stumble, Johnny reached out to grab Ghost's mask to 'steady himself' and ultimately drag it from his superior's head.

Ghost had leapt from his seat with a roar, threatening to send Sergeant MacTavish back to Scotland in a box with the Saltire draped across the lid. The standoff only settled upon Captain Price's barked orders to stand down or hang up the uniform.

By Day Six, Ghost had bruised your opponent's egos enough that neither Soap nor Gaz dared attempt to peek beneath the mask again. They look at you like you're absolutely bonkers when you finally announce it's your turn to try and tame the beast.

"Yer fuckin' mad, hen," Johnny grumbled, watching you observe Ghost from across the room. He'd settled on a chair in the corner of the room, ensuring no one could sneak up on him. "You can't seriously be plannin' on-"

"I want Hassan," you shrug, a smile playing on your lips. Though, at this rate, you couldn't care less about the terrorist and the honour of dispatching him. No, Ghost had made this ridiculous game far more competitive than needed, and you planned to win.

"Have fun," Gaz scoffed bitterly, still icing the blotchy green and purple bruise that had welted on his forehead as a medal of dis-honour. You hadn't exactly helped the healing process, poking it harshly with the pad of your thumb as you laughed at his mortifying misfortune.

You wait patiently for Ghost to move, like a stake out on a mission. Lying in plain sight in a ghillie suit, a sniper rifle pointed right between his eyes and your finger on a hairpin trigger. You wait for him to break, for exhaustion to creep in. Thankfully, you don't have to wait long. The Lieutenant rises from his chair, announcing to 141 that he's headed to bed.

A quiet mumble of 'goodnight' from each member grants him leave, and Ghost walks out of the room without further word. You waste no time in hurrying to your feet.

"Are you gonna...-" Soap winces when you stand, trailing off when you start after Ghost, not allowing either of your colleagues to talk you out of this suicide mission.

Though, the moment you turn the corner, you wish you had. Ghost's broad frame practically fills the narrow hallway like someone had plucked Everest from Nepal and shoved its hulking mass into a matchbox. He's ginormous, his usually silent footsteps causing the aged, rotting wood beneath the soles of his boots to creak with the weight he applies when he turns to face you.

The dark hallway obscures Ghost's skull-face mask, but a glittering reflection of the golden light bleeding from the bulb in the living room area flickers across the wet surface of his eyes as he observes you. You can't allow the weighty pressure of his stare to phase you if you're to push ahead with your plan- so you step forward, swallowing down the nerves that Ghost's attention inevitably dredges up.

"Lieutenant, sir," you address him smoothly, voice low as you gaze up at him through your lashes. Ghost's eyebrow arches in response, noting your somewhat suggestive behaviour. "Permission to spea-"

"I'm hopin' you'll tell me what you're all up to," his eyes spear your nerve as he interrupts you, "They're not lettin' up, but I'll get it outta you one way or another."

"What... Did you have in mind?" You chance, heart slamming up against your chest when you realise just how obvious you're being. It's dangerous- you hadn't planned to be so forward. The idea that he'd be able to read your flirting so soon set off mortars in your veins.

There's a pause. It dizzies you, throwing your previously sturdy confidence off kilter when Ghost tilts his masked head slightly. He's turning it over in his mind, considering the past few days' events. Then, he turns everything on its side.

"I know what you're doing," he speaks suddenly, the rich baritone of his voice ricocheting off the walls and ringing in your ears like he's just discharged a round of ammo with each syllable. You jerk upright, standing to attention.

"I don't know what you m-"

"You want the mask off," he interrupts you again, cutting your pathetic excuse short as he steps forward. It's ridiculous, the sheer size of him as he looms over you. "You lot made a bet."

Another beat. Ghost waits for a response, an admission of guilt. It feels like he's cornered you; every answer that springs to mind is incriminating. You know he can see your rueful expression, wide-eyed and panicked by the ease with which he puts you on the ropes.

"Was this your plan?" He murmurs, reaching to grasp your chin. His palm settles on the hollow of your jaw, fingers fanning out across the bone. "Get me into bed and see if I'll take it off?"

Trembling in his hold, you whimper as Ghost's thumb stretches across to trace the curve of your lip. It follows the delicate arc, lining the shape of your mouth and trailing the dip of your cupid's bow.

"'M sorry," you mumble weakly, cheeks hot beneath his touch. Again, you fold beneath the intensity of those honeyed irises. It's a miracle your knees don't buckle when he pushes the pad of his thumb just past your lips, so that it brushes the edges of your teeth.

"That was your plan. Y'can still give it a try, love. But..." he hums, his voice throaty and quiet and settling in the pit of your stomach. It's embarrassing, the ease with which he figures you out, but his words drip over you, easy and warm, and all you can focus on is the slip of his thumb as he presses the pad against the flat of your tongue.

"The mask stays on."

Ghost’s insistence makes you giggle sheepishly and your stomach flip in dread, like a child caught with its hand down a bear trap. Despite the lewdness of him pushing his thumb past your lips, you know that he’s being serious, deathly so. You nod clumsily in recognition of his executive order, and Ghost gently taps the skin of your cheek with his free hand, the soft slap of his palm against your flesh standing your hair on end.

“Go.”

The word hangs in the air for a moment, weighing heavily in the claustrophobic space of the small hallway. It takes a moment for your mind, rendered utterly useless by Ghost’s imposing presence, to understand exactly what he’s implying. Only when he removes his thumb from your mouth to shove you forward towards a bedroom door does his intention become clear.

Oh. Oh!

Scrambling to force your feet forward, they practically float across the threshold of the bedroom door. You can feel Ghost looming just behind you, can practically feel the heat radiating from his chest warming the expanse of your back. Fingers clasp over your shoulder, practically swallow the curved flesh, and shove you back against the bedroom wall.

The force of impact winds you, the air expelled from your lungs swallowed down by Ghost’s lips bearing heavily down upon your own. He’d ripped the mask upwards, the hem of the ski-mask balanced across the bridge of his nose. Simon’s tongue licks into your mouth– intrudes upon the space like he’s kicking down a door, like he’s swallowing the breath he’d expelled from you with his heavy hand.

Once the dazed dizziness dissipates, you moan in relief at finally getting what you wanted. Ghost’s gigantic paw takes hold of your jaw in a firm grip to fit his mouth perfectly against your own, his swirling fingerprints indenting in the soft flesh there in a mottled bruise. The soft pine he coaxes from you bleeds past your open mouth despite your attempt to suppress the frankly pathetic noise.

Fuck it, this was worth it– all of it was worth it. The fear of getting it wrong, the anxiety of being caught, the panic that Simon could turn you away… All of it seeps into the darkness in the corners of the room when your superior drags his tongue across your lower lip. It’s though he’s relishing in the taste of the aftershocks of the arousal he sparks between your legs, the dopamine that rushes through you.

“Was this your plan?” Ghost grunts, grasping ahold of the scruff of your neck. Gasping weakly, you’re almost certain your eyes roll back in your head when he uses his harsh grip to steer you towards the bed. “Get me out of my fuckin’ mind so I don’t notice you takin’ off the mask?”

“That’s–” you huff, rendered breathless by Ghost’s intruding tongue, “That’s not it–”

Your pitiful attempt to excuse yourself is made useless when Ghost practically launches you onto the mattress of his bed, the rusted metal frame screaming under the sudden weight of your body.

“No?” he queries, the usual boom of authority in his voice replaced by something that sounds far more like goading amusement as he places the hefty weight of his palm against your sternum, holding you down and thwarting any attempt to escape.

He needn’t worry. The last thing you wanted was to leave.

“Tell you what,” he muses in that smug tone you always hear over the comms, his free hand quick to grasp at the leather of his belt. The buckle clinks in the quiet as he works his fingers over it, “We’ll run through this mission, yeh? See if you can complete your objective, Delta?”

Your retort, or lack thereof, dies in your throat when Ghost pushes his crotch into your own. If it weren’t for the yelp of bliss that the Lieutenant had to smother with his palm, you’d hear the way he’d practically purred when he dragged his cock against you.

“C’mon then. Try it,” he urged.

It’s pointless, his mock-support. You just desperately reach for the waistband of his khaki uniform trousers, cockdrunk from the tease of its shape against you. Even in the low light, you can see Ghost’s scarred lips, the way they stretch into a smirk at your desperation.

“Abandoning mission, Sergeant?” He asks you, unzipping his trousers. “Price’ll be disappointed to know this is all it takes for Delta to go AWOL.”

“Shut up,” you moan into the cold air of the cabin. You can see your breath. “Shut up and fuck me.”

When Simon removed himself from his trousers, making some glib comment about you being demanding, you marvel at the size of him. Girthy, swollen, the ruddy tip leaks precum down the arch of his cock and traces the pulsing veins. He’s rock hard and throbbing, framed by a thatch of pubic hair.

Fumbling with your own trousers, you awkwardly try to remove them given Simon’s weighty palm still pins you down by your sternum. He watches, a glint in his eye in the low light that would almost embarrass you if you weren’t so focused on the task at hand.

“What was the prize?”

“H-Huh?” you stall, mind fried by Ghost’s unexpected line of enquiry. He picks up where you left off, violently yanking your trousers down your thighs and pushing your panties aside to expose your glistening cunt to his prying eyes.

“What. Was. The. Prize?”

You hesitate for a moment, feeling Ghost’s fingers press against the inside of your thighs as he probes this unexplored territory of you. His touch skirts the areas you want him most, teasing and goading you for more information. “H-Hassa-ahh!”

You barely manage the first syllable of your answer before Simon rests the arch of his cock against your slick pussy lips. His body jerks slightly at the heat of your swollen cunt, the ease with which he can slide himself through your drenched sex.

“You got to kill Hassan?” he asked for confirmation, his voice unwavering. You wonder how he manages to stay so steady– you’re coming apart at the seams, trembling as the head of his cock bumps your clit clumsily.

“Yes,” you breathe, eyes rolling back as he continues his laboured, steady torture. His free hand settles on your hip, arching your pelvis up slightly to meet his own. You grind your hips upward against his cock, and Simon expels a soft scoff from lungs, those piercing eyes settled on your contorting expression.

“Mhmm,” he hums, rolling his hips again. This time it’s even slower, teasing. “A temptin’ reward–”

Simon is interrupted by the moan that splits your lips when he drags the length of his cock heavily against your clit. It sparks arousal deep in your abdomen, clings to the inside of your thighs wetly.

Perhaps the disturbance is one transgression too many tonight, because Simon grasps your hips so hard that you are forced to stop gliding over the length of his cock. You pine in protest, but you choke on the pitiful sound when Ghost suddenly plunges his cock inside of you. It spears you open, breaks you apart, and you find your back arching desperately against the mattress.

The palm that had rooted itself to your sternum flies up to clasp against your mouth, smothering the shriek of bliss that threatened to expose your extracurricular activities to the rest of your squad. You sob through your teeth beneath his life line, tears welling in your eyes as you feel him stretch your walls open to make room for his intrusion.

You can’t help yourself. You need something to grasp onto, and opt for his wrist above your face. Digging your nails into the inked flesh there, you watch as the pain sparks something dark and twisted in Simon’s pupils, his azure irises swallowed by the expanding blackness.

He likes it. You can tell. His cock arches up inside of you, pushing deep and rocking against something earth shattering inside of you. Damp with sweat already, the skin of his wrist ripples as he tightens his grip on your face, refusing to withdraw from your pussy walls and instead opting for sharp, shallow thrusts that push you up the mattress with each connection of your hips.

“Fuck,” he spits, using his tight grasp to pull you back towards him. It’s obliterating you, ripping you apart and pushing all your pieces back together in a mangled, jumbled mess. You whimper as you suffer through his brutal pace, marvelling at how good it feels when he consistently spears your g-spot.

“When would you have done it?” Simon asks you, a little breathless now as he chases the high that begins to build at the edges of your body, tingling and pulsing.

“Shut up–” you beg him, the low rasp of his voice launching you towards that pleasure that threatens to consume you. Jerking your hips up to meet his, your body mindlessly reacts to the sound of his timbre.

“Oh, no,” he chuckles, shaking his half masked face. There’s a silver laden scar that stretches across the base of his chin. It matches the one that splits his upper lip to the base of his nose, the ski mask hovering tantalisingly over the bridge. “When?”

The seriousness of his tone makes your thighs quiver when paired with the sharp thrust he punctuates his question with. Years of training in maintaining a cover-story while a hostage are blown to bits as though Ghost has launched a mortar at your resolve, because suddenly all your state secrets are spilling out of you quicker than you can shove the incriminating words back into your traitor mouth.

“I’d– Hagh… I’d do it j-just as you’re cummin–hhah!”

“And spoil my fun?” Ghost hums, that heavy timbre licking up your spine and sparking viscous embers at the base of your spine, “Anyone ever told you that you’re very fuckin’ selfish, Delta?”

You’d offer a witty comment, but Ghost’s angled his hips just right, and your jaw is falling loose to let out a panicked whimper.

“There it is, shit. Look at you, Sargeant. Fuckin’, you’re so tight–”

You’re like a slip knot, tightening around him further with each knock of your g-spot with Simon’s ridiculously large cock-head. Prickling tears of bliss threaten to spill over the edge of your waterline, continuing to sting even when you shut your eyes. You’re shaking, trembling beneath his rocking hips as you mewl his name.

“S-Simon! Fuck–”

Wild, wet squelches of Simon sinking into your soaked cunt echo in your skull as he ramps up his violent thrusts, the springs of his mattress screaming an unmistakable rhythm to anyone walking by. He doesn’t seem to care now though, his eyes zeroed in on your expression like he’s stalking a victim with his sniper scope. Aiming for complete obliteration.

“C’mon Can feel you squeezin’ round me,” he murmurs, the steady tone he’d offered earlier shuddering slightly as you squeeze impossibly tight around him, coil threatening to snap, “You’re so close, Delta. C’mon, paint my cock an’ I’ll eat you out with my cum in you–”

✰

“He’s blonde.”

Gawping jaws drop to the floor at your very simple observation, Soap’s eyes nearly rolling across the uneven, rotten floorboards after falling out of his skull. You can’t help the smug smile that threatens to tug at the edge of your lips, especially given the sensation of Ghost’s eyes boring holes into the back of your skull.

The awe only worsens when Price gives a subtle nod of confirmation from the corner of the darkened room, crowning you the winner of this utterly ridiculous joust.

“How do you know?” Gary is as shaken as Soap by the confidence with which you’d offered your final answer, in disbelief as to how you could have possibly obtained it without being maimed, given the egg on his forehead was still throbbing despite days of icing it with the snow from outside the safehouse.

“His pubes are. I assume the curtains match the drapes,” you shrug dismissively.

The sheer incredulity that flashes across Johnny’s face is utterly hilarious. The smirk that had been threatening to break finally cracks across your lips at the confirmation of your victory. Ghost’s eyes appear to have lazered through your skull, singing brain matter with the ferocity of his scowl. Frankly, you couldn’t care less– you can see it in your mind's eye; the gorgeous contrast of a blood-red crosshair settling across Hassan’s forehead, the weight of the trigger beneath your finger as you pull it back.

cod mwii/kinktober taglist:

@mockerycrow @bubuslutty @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @levi-llama @thebiscuitsheep @maelstrom007 @alexxavicry @bug-sy-boy @glennrheesworld @kittenfrostt @luvfromkat @blingblong55 @whore4dilfs @wolfyland07 @doggydale @dog55teeth @cabreezer0117 @cathnoneofyourbusiness @marygraceee @thatchickwiththecamera @legend-o-zelda @whore-for-anime @i-love-ghost @cyberpr1m3 @mockerycrow @bubuslutty @lundenloves @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @babychoi03 @infectedkura @allekat1988 @whore-for-anime @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @mockerycrow @cyberpr1m3 @i-love-ghost @allekat1988 @infectedkura @babychoi03 @freakquenci @maviee @yunggoblin @sleepystaarr @watyousayin @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @damn-dean-blog @pheonyxmoon @magicalreviewphantom @limegreenbabx @johfaam0 @iaur @justsayk

@mortallyuniquepeach @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @crybaby-blue-blog @heart-atttack @pansa-1-san @maviee @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @s-u-t @ghostslynx @solidly-indulgent @glitterypirateduck @gummyfang @bii-aan-ckaa @konigsblog @crissteetee @crissteetee67 @sylvanasthebansheequeen @akaym2 @exploremyworldsm @thriving-n-jiving @su57 @cabreezer0117 @cathnoneofyourbusiness @marygraceee @thatchickwiththecamera @legend-o-zelda @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @tusk89 @bellasbees01 @dog55teeth

2K notes · View notes

katsumox · 11 months

Text

domestic moment with bf!hobie <3

hobie brown x black reader. he loves u so bad its sickening. was a blurb but i’m obsessed with this man so it’s kinda long lol.

"Anyway, 's not stupid. 'S oxymoronic," you pout, rummaging through your makeup bag.

Your Erykah playlist is ringing through your small shared flat in south London. You pull your bohemian braids back into a ponytail before continuing your search.

"Dunno what that means, love," Hobie drawls as he picks at his nails, "Besides, thought you was gonna do my eye-black or whatever, seems you're chattin' me up instead, yeah?"

"Whatever, Bibi," you smile, finally finding your liner. "And you know what an oxymoron is, you ain't dumb. Sit."

"Oh my days," Hobie mutters, fighting the smirk creeping across his face, "Can't believe you've got me following orders. Get on with it, then," he says as he sits on the loveseat.

He's fiddling with the chipped black paint on his nails again as he watches you size up his face, fingers posed like a picture frame.

You huff, two-toned lips poked out in thought. You open the liquid liner, and as you're about to do the first line of black on his eyelid-

Hobie's deep voice breaks your concentration.

"Babes. Don't fuck me up now, yeah?" He hums, looking up at you as you purse your glossy lips, head cocking to the side.

"Can't concentrate if you can't keep your mouth shut."

He smirks at your slight attitude before retorting, "Sides, you're not close enough, innit? Come sit with me," He says, patting his thighs.

You sigh as you grip the liner pen with your teeth, sinking down on his lap. His arms reflexively come to rest loosely around your waist, as his fingers drum out nameless little beats on the meat of your hips.

"Go on then, love," Hobie encourages as you raise the pen, finally making the first marks of eyeliner across his dark eyes.

"Aw shit," You mutter, looking at his liner, "Fucked it up a bit, but I'll..." You trail off as you feel the intensity of Hobie's stare.

“You’ll what, babe,” he rumbles, low eyes trained on yours.

“Smudge it,” you mutter, as Hobie tucks a loose braid behind your ear. “…Finna smudge it out.”

Hobie’s eyes flicker from yours to your lips as his ringed hand holds your jaw. His lips part, his gaze never leaving yours as he runs his thumb over your cheek.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, Bibi?”

“You,” he drawls, pulling your jaw downward, towards him.

His lips are on yours, one hand still cradling your jaw as the other rubs comforting circles into your hip. Your acrylics are scratching at his neck as he presses you impossibly closer to him, smiling into your kisses.

“Gotta finish… Lemme finish, Bibi,” you breathe into the kiss.

“Kay, then,” he hums, “Hurry, wanna keep snoggin’ you.”

You giggle at his honesty, taking the pad of your thumb to smudge his liner. After a moment, you lean back, analyzing your work.

“You so pretty, Bibi,” you mutter, softly squeezing his cheek.

“You’re talkin’,” Hobie rumbles, chucking your chin, “Pretty ting like you, callin’ me pretty.”

His lips are shiny, covered in the brown gloss and lip liner from your kisses. His fingers never stop rubbing soft circles in your hips as he looks up at you.

“Give the pretty girl another kiss,” You demand, hastily tacking on a “Please.”

Hobie snorts at your demand, pierced eyebrow cocked in question.

“You think you give orders round here?”

You raise your brows in turn, watching and waiting.

Hobie huffs in feigned exasperation.

“Alright then, fine. Fine,” he sighs, “Not doing it ‘cause you told me to. ‘M doin’ it ‘cause I like snoggin’ leng tings like you.”

He kisses you again, sighing sweet nothings into the kiss.

#astv hobie #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x black!reader #spider punk x you #spider punk x reader #spider punk x black!reader #spider punk x y/n #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #spider punk x black reader #my writing !🏛️🧁

391 notes · View notes

rotten1angel · 1 year

Text

press (j. potter)

requested? yes / no

content — rugby!james x fem!gf!reader

a/n — since i carried this fic over, i don't have the original request but here's the actual work ^-^

word count — 0.6k

—

you shied away from the flash of the numerous cameras surrounding you and your boyfriend as you walked into the practice gym. james had his duffle bag slung over his shoulder and you under the opposite arm, grinning ear to ear at the paparazzi attention. once the two of you got inside, james kissed the top of your head.

“you okay, lovely?” the boy murmured into your hair and you nodded. he knew you sometimes got overwhelmed by the attention that he got in public. you followed him to the changing room where he dropped his bag on the ground and swiveled to fully engulf you. you giggled into his chest as he littered the crown of your head with kisses.

“james you need to get changed,” you tried to be stern with the boy as he groaned.

“your coach will have my head if you’re late again.” reluctantly, james let go of you, opting to head towards his bag to grab his change of clothes.

“well we don't want that, do we?” the boy grinned.

soon he had finished changing and you two headed into the practice area, both of you still getting an earful from james’ coach. sirius bounded up to the two of you, wrapping his arms around his mate’s shoulders.

“were you two snoggin’ in there or what?” sirius asked, getting a jab to the side from james as his answer. james shrugged sirius off him as he kissed your cheek and left you on the sideline as his coach called him over. as you went to sit on one of the fold up chairs, you saw james’ empty water bottle. you grabbed it and left the gym to find a water fountain, fortunately, there was one right outside the gym that james was practicing. you unscrewed the top of the bottle and began to fill it up. as you were screwing the lid back on you felt a tap on your shoulder, after turning around, you see a press guy with a microphone in his hand and cameras behind him, however the cameras are pointed down at the moment.

“hi, i'm sorry to bother you, are you james potter’s girlfriend?” the reporter asked, unable to muster words, you only nod at the man.

“would you mind if we interviewed you for the press?”

“not at all.” you gave him a smile, you figured this would happen eventually, what with dating a rugby star.

soon the cameras were on you and the reporter held the microphone up to your mouth as you spoke. you droned on about how proud you were of james, and it even shocked you how easy it was to praise the boy. you’d been gone almost 30 minutes when james came looking for you, getting nervous at the amount of cameramen that had surrounded you, he started to trek towards you before he was stopped by the sound of your voice, confident and clear, praising him for all his work.

“..he’s come so far since high school, i’m overall just really proud of him, this has been his dream since i don't even know how long, and i'm just happy to be by his side during it.” you finished your spiel, getting thanks from the reporter as he closed the recording and headed towards the exit. swiftly you felt hands engulf your waist and turn you around. you could barely make out james’ face as he pressed his lips to yours. one hand still holding his water bottle you cupped his cheek and pulled away, a confused giggle leaving your slightly swollen lips.

“what is it, love?” you asked and he scoffed.

“what is it? you were practically singin’ my praises to those reporters, I have half a mind to ditch practice at this very moment.'' james retorted, kissing up the side of your face as you breathily laughed.

“come now, jamie, you need to get back to practice.” you pulled his hand as you led the way back to the gym, james in toe like a puppy.

“jamie? there’s no way i can resist you now, dove.” he grinned, following you into the gym, tuning out his coach’s scolds.

—

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #rugby!james #rugby!james potter #marauders

349 notes · View notes

skinnywalker · 1 year

Text

When we met: part 2 that's my sistar!!

Roy now has a girlfriend. It's strange to have a hidden relationship, not that he minds having a secret over Jamie.

It's been two months since Roy and her began dating. He hasn't felt loved like this for as long as he can remember.

He stands outside her apartment with her favorite flowers.

"Hello."

"Hello Roy."

She kisses his cheek. God she is perfect.

"Are ya ready for our date?"

"More than."

They leave and drive to the restaurant. It's a beautiful place not too fancy and not too busy. She lights up the whole place Roy thinks.

They sit and begin to eat.

"You didn't tell me how the game went."

He looks up confused.

"The one against West Ham."

"It was fine."

She laughs.

"You always say that."

"Do i?"

"Everytime. When I ask you how something went it because I really want to know, Roy!"

He smiles feeling weirdly warm.

"Yes Ma'am."

Dinner goes well, it always goes well with her. They drive back to her apartment but Roy is pulled inside by her. She wants him to stay. God she is hypnotizing.

He presses her against and wall and the two kiss. Deep and wild and emotional. It's raw. Roy hasn't never felt the world fall away like it does when he kisses her.

"JESUS CHIRST ROY!!"

The two turn to see Jamie in sweats frozen in shock.

"WHY THE FUCK ARE YA HERE SNOGGIN MA SISTAR!!"

"Hi Jamie."

She smiles blushing. Roy is unable to speak.

"Does someone want to tell me what's gonna on!?!"

"We're dating."

"Yeah."

Jamie is even more shocked.

"Ya dating fucking Roy Kent!?! How long has this been happening?"

"Two months."

They say together.

"Fuck me. Then it's official."

Roy turns to her and she nods.

"It's official."

Part 3 coming!!

#ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso #ted lasso x reader #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #roy kent #roy kent x reader

205 notes · View notes

noirvette · 1 year

Text

WE NEVER EXISTED

[band smau]

[TWENTY ONE]

masterlist.

prev. | next.

“Thanks for having us over, Y/n.” Nichole gushes, packing her bag up and heading over to the door.

“Of course, anytime, and I’ll see you later tonight with some of my own things.” You answered.

“See you later! I’ll make some calls for locksmiths in the meantime for you too.”

“Thanks Nicky! I really do appreciate it.”

"Girl, you know I got you, besides we haven't been together in so long, Kyle's been snoggin' all your attention lately and I'm startin to feel jealoussss." She teased.

You roll your eyes and lightly push Nichole's shoulder, "You know it ain't gonna be like that."

Nichole puts her hands up, "Hey! I'm just sayin' Kyle's a good guy.. you guys do work.."

You hum, "It's too soon, I just.. Kenny and I just ended you know and it would be awful to take advantage of Kyle's feelings like that."

Nichole freezes, she looks around and lowers her voice, "You..know?"

You nod and lower your voice too, "I overheard... Kenny and Kyle's fight I.. I overheard specifically Kenny saying that Kyle likes me and just.. Kyle doesn't know I know."

Nichole gasps and covers her mouth in shock, "Girl... oh my god. Girl to girl, right now what are your thoughts on him."

You smile bittersweetly, "I love Kyle I do.. I don't.. I don't know if it's like that though you know? Time could tell but.. no I.." You sigh, "Everything is too soon."

Nichole nods, "Smart, you've always been smart with your feelings, Y/n. He's waited this long for you though.. I'm sure he'd wait longer."

Nichole straightens herself up and heads out the door, "Well... I'll see you later!"

You offer a wave in return and sit to think about Kyle. You cared deeply for him, he's been a good friend to you for years, a good bandmate, a good man. You know his actions to you came from the heart and that he isn't trying to be superficial and selfish by helping you out. You didn't doubt that if Kenny hadn't asked you out those years ago, you'd have probably been with Kyle at this point in time. You didn't doubt that Kyle wasn't a good man, you just didn't know if.. you exactly wanted a relationship right now.

Relationships were draining, at least your last one was, mainly towards the end. Kenny was also a good boyfriend but he could be rather.. greedy with things. He often would take and rarely gave. He'd often ghost you at times but then make up for it with the affection bombing afterwards. It wasn't rare for Kenny to go mia for a few days, return like nothing happened, and devote all his time to you before doing it all over.

You sighed, boys suck and your heart was torn, on one hand it was comforting that Kyle still liked you, you wouldn't be lying if you said that somewhere in your heart you naturally held a soft spot for him, but you knew it was too soon to jump into anything. The press would have a hay day and you knew how the media reacted to whenever a female artist got into a new relationship. That wasn't the only problem though.. you didn't want to think Kyle to think he was being used either.

God you wished life was easier.

"Y/NNNNNNN" Clyde whines out, running over to you and enveloping you into a hug.

"Oh- Clyde! Hey You're up!"

"We're all awake, anyhow I hate to goooo, can't I stay?"

Chuckling you remove yourself from Clyde's embrace, "As much as I love you Clyde you gotta get back to your own apartment, I'm sure Tolkien would like to see his roommate for once."

Clyde rubs the back of his head sheepishly, "Yeah.. I think Tolkien is sick of me though, especially after I gave him his gifts from New York."

You purse your lips, "I told you that those New York shirts were tacky and he wouldn't like them."

"That's exactly why he should like them- they're tacky!"

"Yeah well isn't Bebe sick of you being at her place this entire time?"

"Oh... yeah.. hey Y/n..."

"No you can't stay here, go back to your OWN place Donovan."

"Yes mom."

You scoff, "HEY!"

Clyde chuckles and starts heading out the door, "See you Y/n!! Love youuuuuuuuuuuu."

You snort, "Bye Clyde, love you too."

You turn around and come face to face with Stan next, "Stan! Next to go?"

Stan nods, "Yeah, hey I just wanted to check in again, how are you?"

You offer him a smile, "Thanks, I'm doing good Stan, thanks for constantly checkin up on me, you're a good guy."

Stan's face becomes tinged with a blush, "Oh dude, thanks Y/n, Wendy says all the time that friends are one of the most important things in life and we're friends! And my friends' health is important to me."

"You're too sweet Stan. Tell Wendy I said hi."

"I will! You better text her though yourself."

"I'll text her in a bit, see you later Stan."

"See ya!" Stan heads out the door.. which left Kyle.

You pad into your living room, glancing at Kyle who's clearing up where he slept and packing away his things, "Late to waking up?"

Kyle groans, "Yeah well Stan likes to move when he's sleeping."

You move to sit on the adjacent couch, "Oooo, ouch."

"Mhmm."

Kyle finishes the rest of his packing, "Thanks for having us over, Y/n."

"Anytime! You guys are always welcome. You think we'd do these more."

Kyle tilts his head in thought, "We do spend months together when we tour, so.."

"Right.. right I can only stand you for so long after all." You tease.

Kyle snorts, "Yeah I know I'm a lot to handle."

You both walk over to your front door, "You'd let me know if.. if you needed anything right Y/n? You know that I care about you right and if something was up, or if you're not actually doing okay or if something was wrong or if-"

You hold a hand up to stop Kyle's rambling, "Yes, Kyle. To all, I know that you care for me. I know that you're all there for me, especially during this. And I would obviously let you know if something happened."

Kyle breathes a sigh of relief, "You're.. important to me- to us. You know?"

You put a hand on Kyle's shoulder, "I know, I appreciate it. I appreciate you. You've done a lot for me recently and I don't know how I could ever repay you. You take care of yourself too, yeah? You've been focusing so much on other people that you gotta remember about yourself."

Kyle blushes in embarrassment, "Yeah.. yeah you're right. I'll see you later, Y/n."

He heads out the door and you wave as he leaves. Once the door closes you exhale, maybe you need to revisit how you're feeling.

TAGLIST: @captivq @kimiesstuff @bwljules @the-cooler-kira @1one1person1 @kenny-the-ken @neenieweenie @n0tangeliccc @frogindisguise @revzxn @ryenwritess @mirophobic @gonefiishiing @musiclovebot @bootsieboo @bonez4brainz @s0l4riss @1996kj @sweetadonisbutbetter @scinclaitnoir @okarigold

#we never existed series #south park x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #kenny mccormick x reader

91 notes · View notes

1920sladydectective · 11 months

Text

Snoggin' in the Rain 2.2K

Aesop and Eliza butt heads, leading to a rain shower kiss and possibly (definitely) more.

I'm a little sensitive about writing stuff like this so please be kind. My stupid pun title made me laugh more than it should.

Minors DNI. :D

Eliza knew she’d fucked up, storming down an unfamiliar forest path, petulant anger leading her astray. It was supposed to be a nice holiday, filled with calm mornings and gaudy nights, but she seemed to explode at the littlest things, and Aesop seemed to keep slamming these buttons whether he intended to or not.

The sky was darker than she’d realised and along with that came a heavier rain that she had observed some hours previous. Eliza was of course without a coat, the damp ground muddying up her skirts as she fought a rough shiver. The argument was far too trivial for her to get pneumonia over, and yet here she was muttering to herself as her hair clung to her cheeks and frizzed outwards, light pink fabric clinging to her torso as her summer dress was well and truly ruined.

Gulping in air, slightly lost and upset but not willing to admit it, she paused slightly to push the hair out of her eyes.

“Bollocks,” It was anguished, as she attempted to remember the way back, if only to save her health, when she heard a familiar bellow.

Aesop knew the argument had been ridiculous, starting over a dispute about socks and landing on a shouting match about ties. When Eliza had stormed off, he had let her, giving her space to cool before they eventually talked out their stupidity and got back to their little cabin holiday.

When he began to notice the torrential rain, eyes darting to Eliza’s green coat resting on the armchair, his mood changed entirely. It had been too long, and she was no doubt lost and already sneezing. It was an amusing thought for a few moments, until images of finding her in a more injured state distressed him and he dashed out of the door as fast as his body would cooperate.

Thundering down the path, Aesop began to curse Eliza’s lack of forethought, each stretch of path without her tightening the vice around his heart, as his eyes blinked back the water threatening to cloud them.

Finally, after an age and a slight twinge in his leg, her mop of ginger curls came into sight. Screaming her name, he watched as she turned to him with a slight scowl, though her relief was palpable.

It was then that Aesop had his last rational thought, eyes glued to the drenched pink chiffon as everything went blank. The fabric was clinging to her, its pastel nature now nearly see through, her nipples visible, the sight making his mouth water. All angst forgotten, Aesop felt his cock harden at the sight of her dishevelled, soaked body. Rosy cheeks and curves hugged by waterlogged fabric, she looked edible. He had sped up subconsciously, his mind desperate to taste her.

Though she was frustrated, Eliza felt equally spellbound by his strong figure approaching her, hair delightfully messy and shirt showing tufts of chest hair, with an expression she could not interpret at such a distance.

As he got within ear shot she sighed, slight anger sparking again, “Nice of you to join m-”

Aesop grabbed Eliza, arm slipped around her waist as he pulled her close, letting out groan as he crushed her lips with his. His kiss was warm and inviting, making Eliza melt slightly against him as she kissed back with a mindless urgency.

Having her in his arms, he shoved her against a tree, kissing down her neck as she gasped, fingers locked in his damp hair. Part of him growled that he should just take her here, soaked and surrounded by nature, but he was no longer a young and able bodied man,

“Let’s get you home,” Aesop said voice dark and sweet, making Eliza nod aimlessly, his kisses neutralising her as he pulled her to him and apparated to the cabin’s entrance.

“Forgot we could do that,” Eliza murmured, earning her another nip to the collarbone.

“Evidently,” Aesop joked, thumb brushing roughly across her red cheeks, as he pushes her into the cabin.

Eliza let out a happy sigh at the rush of heat blowing through her, moving to take off her soaked clothes and change into something comfortable, when she was spun around and promptly shoved against another service.

“No,” It was practically spat, his hand pinning her wrists up and away from her buttons.

“But I’ll freeze,” She whined, pupils blown as she stared at his lips, pulling slightly at his restraint.

He tightened his grip, a growl slipping out as he wordlessly bent down, mouth covering her rock hard nipple through the icy fabric and biting.

Eliza’s shocked moan made him bite harder, tugging at her clothed nipple with his teeth, the sudden heat of his mouth making the sensation stronger. His hand came up to play with the neglected nipple, rolling it around in his fingertips as her gasps spluttered out, the sounds making his cock ache.

Having her against a wall, unable to do much but writhe, Aesop felt a happy darkness settle in him. Her knees were weakening, body malleable beneath him as he touched her as much as he desired. He would undress her soon, wanting to avoid sickness for them both, but for now he wanted to melt her as she was, soaked through and glassy eyed.

Eliza was struggling to think, twitching in her fixed position as the mix of temperatures and fabrics made her moan wantonly, her cunt begging to be acknowledged as she trembled. She needed more, but the words wouldn’t come.

��Aesop, please,” She sighed, desperate eyes staring into his, as she sucked in air.

“Yes?” He asked, lips returning to her neck as he nibbled gently, knee planted between her legs as she ground down slightly, triggering a dark laugh from him.

“Please,” She repeated, almost petulant, lips pouted as she attempted to lean forward into his touch.

Aesop rolled his eyes, a particularly rough twist from his fingers causing her to shout, eyes flickering, “You know better than that,” He almost sounded condescending, head tilted in false pity, “All you have to do is tell me what you want, Eliza,”

Eliza swallowed heavily, searching for the words, yet each time she moved to speak he would bite or pull, reducing her to whimpers and sighs.

“What was that?” Aesop murmured, mocking her as she groaned grumpily against him.

Finally, mercifully, he paused for long enough that she could speak, though the words were stuttered, “I want you to use me,”

Aesop’s cock jumped, making him gulp, hand roughly grabbing her head, “Use you?”

With a flick of his wand her clothes had popped open, slamming to the floor in a wet pile as moved her, forcing her onto the table as he removed his own shirt, “You should have just said so, my Angel,”

Her hair was splayed out, a frizzing halo as her nipples ached at the change in temperature, body finally drying in the warm cabin air. A giggle left her lips as she rolled her eyes at him, “I was somewhat preoccupied,”

With her spread before him, he murmured a charm under his breath, her wrists staying fixed above her head as ran a finger from her cheek all the way down to her pelvis, relishing in her shocked little whine.

“Preoccupied?” He repeated, voice like honey, finger hovering above where she needed it, “Such a needy cunt,”

Eliza’s mind was blank, desperate for any pleasure she was given, as she stared dreamily at the visible hardness in his trousers, legs twitching yet again at such a thought. Aesop’s mind wasn't much better, his cock pleading with him to just slam into her warmth, use her as she’d asked. Though he was tempted, he knew he could pull more pleas from her and he wasn’t willing to fuck her until she was begging deliriously for it.

Rather than flick her clit with his finger, Aesop stared into her eyes and lowered himself as much as his leg would allow, tongue making contact with her drenched core.

Eliza’s babbled cry was all the encouragement he needed, his mind going blissfully quiet as he sucked and licked at her sopping cunt, groaning with self indulgent happiness as she writhed on the table, wild and aflame, whispered prayers for more spilling from her.

One hand snaked upwards, gripping her hip and pressing down so that she was unable to escape from the stimulation, the other coming to rest at her entrance as he gently slipped two fingers into her, an unsolicited moan coming out as his eyes slammed shut.

“Such a lovely girl,” Aesop said, voice thick with lust as he held her gaze and spoke against her flesh, fingers moving rhythmically as she keened and shouted, “You make such pretty noises for me, don’t you?”

When she didn’t respond, head slammed back against the oak, his tone darkened and he stopped his actions, raising a brow, “Don’t you, Liza?” It was a prompt that was not to be ignored, as his tone overruled the fog in her head, repetitive agreements leaving her as he restarted his ministrations.

Happy with her answer, he ate at her cunt with the urgency of a man starved, feeling the tension build in her as she shouted nonsensically, caught on the edge of an abyss. His hand moved upwards from her hip, playing with her nipple as she began to tense, anxiously waiting for his voice to fill her ears.

“Cum for me, little dove,” He murmured against her cunt, pinching her nipple as she froze, body exploding with heat and sensation, her orgasm crushing her.

Aesop was usually more patient, but the feeling of her cumming against his face made his cock burn so much it was almost painful, as he rose and tugged his trousers off, leaning his hips against the table as his cock rested against her. Eliza’s hips bucked upwards, an empty gaze drinking in the sight of his hard cock pressed so close to her. It was enough to make her whimper as he smiled softly, fingers stroking her hip.

“What do you want?” He asked earnestly, clinging to his last modicum of restraint.

Eliza giggled slightly, dizzy with anticipation, “Ruin me?” It's a plea wrapped in a joke and she barely has time to finish saying it before he’s balls deep inside of her, letting out his own groan at her drenched heat.

“Fuck,” A sigh as he begins to thrust, leaning down to cover her torso with kisses, “So beautiful,”

Eliza whined happily at that, meeting his thrusts, desperate for more friction as his cock stuffed her again and again.

Aesop was beginning to lose himself, the image of her obedient and mewling beneath him making him drunk on her, as he forced himself to keep the same leisurely pace.

“Faster,” Eliza moaned, more confident with his cock in her cunt, voice raspy.

“Beg,” His tone was like ice, cutting through her warmth and making her clench against him, her mind reeling. It was rare that he was so demanding, but when he was she found it difficult to deny him.

“Please,” She tried, blinking up at him.

“Louder,”

Eliza begged again, voice almost hoarse as she twinged around his cock.

“Good girl,” He murmured, speeding up, his hands crushing her hips as he pulled violently against her, making them both cry out, “My girl,”

“Yours,” She affirmed, smiling delightedly at his happy sigh, the word earning her a heavy kiss as he wrecked her cunt.

Very little filled the space other than their joined moans, as he lost himself in her, fucking into her with abandon, using her as she had asked. He loved owning her, as much as she loved being controlled in such a way, happy to relinquish her power to him. In the end she was the one with the power anyway, as he thrust desperately, wanting nothing more than to please her.

They were both so close, thrusts stuttering as he bit her shoulder, growling in her ear. The noise sent her over the edge, clenching painfully around him as she pulled him over, as he spilled roughly into her.

Aesop was quite certain that her cunt had stolen away his brain, as he stood trembling slightly with a mind made of mush. Eliza was much the same, slurred murmurs and huffing air, as he released her restraints, massaging her arms.

Gathering her up slowly, Aesop focused on cleaning her up and bundling her in soft fabric, nuzzling her cheeks as she played absentmindedly with his chest hair.

“You did so well, I am so proud of you,” His voice was like a hot knife through butter, the only thing keeping her aware as tiredness and bliss ate away at her senses, “Such a perfect girl, I am so lucky to have you,”

“I love you,” She managed, bumping her nose against his in a lazy attempt at a kiss.

“I love you too,” He replied automatically, curling them both onto the settee next to the fire, “Close those heavy eyes, little dove,”

Satisfied and safe, Eliza did as she was told, drifting into a dream as he rocked her and peppered her crown with kisses.

Perhaps running off in the rain wasn’t the worst thing after all, Aesop considered as he looked down at her, even as a slight sneeze tickled at his nose.

#aesop sharp x reader #aesop sharp #reader insert #hogwarts legacy #aesop sharp x oc #professor sharp #aesopsharp

21 notes · View notes