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oneforthemunny · 5 months

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hot blooded |boxer!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: eddie's boxing at underground fight clubs to make money. after a victory match, he meets you at the bar. or the beginning of you and boxer!eddie.

contains: mean reader and mean eddie lol. mainly fluff. eddie munson au. happy one year!

Bloodied knuckles raised in the dim light of the bar, a triumphant yell mixed with a grunting of disappointment of those who bet against him when Eddie’s hand was raised, declared the winner. Henry Harrington fisted a wad of cash into Eddie’s hand; six thousand dollars, enough for the entry fee for the middleweight match at the end of the month.

Mr. Harrington snickered, clapping Eddie on the back. “Help yourself to anything at the bar, alright? On me tonight, Champ, you earned it.” And for a fleeting moment Eddie pictured busting his nose, knocking the smug man clean onto the concrete of the bar, letting his blood pool at his feet.

Instead, he shoved on the robe they gave, covered up his sticky, sweat soaked skin, blossoming with bruises and cuts he’d still hadn’t gotten to tend to. Maybe Max would still be up when he got back home, she could patch up the ones he couldn’t reach.

“Double Blanton’s on the rocks.” Eddie grumbled to the cocktail waitress in front of him, not bothering to meet her gaze as he unwrapped his tape from his knuckles.

She didn’t move. Electric red nails on her hip, the others drumming against the mahogany of the bar. Eddie lifted his gaze, lids throbbing with dull pain that was just beginning to set in. “What?”

“You’re bleeding.” Your eyes rolled over his frame, stopping at the cut on his jaw, dripping onto his robe, crimson droplets on the bar.

“Yeah.” Eddie clicked with annoyance. “No shit. Double Blanton’s-”

“-You’re bleeding all over my bar.” Your nail jabbed onto the counter, next to the splotches of blood dripping there.

Eddie blinked, unimpressed, annoyed. “Can you make me my fuckin’ drink or not?” You don’t move, staring at him still, nails still clicking against the counter.

“For fucksake,” Eddie huffs, teeth gritting, reaching over the edge of the bar to swipe the napkins off from your station. Palm slapping on the counter, wiping up the small spot. “There. Happy? Good? Can I get my fuckin’ drink now?”

Pushing up from your stance, you swiped the glass from the clean stack, setting it on the counter. Eddie huffed, slumping back in his chair. He should’ve just gone home, he bristled, familiar agitating heat rising in his chest, clenching his fists.

“Harrington’s tab?” You lifted your gaze to his, yanking the cork out of the bottle by the brass horse.

Eddie’s steely gaze met yours. “What?”

“Harrington’s tab?” You repeated, slower, tone teetering on an edge. “You’re on Harrington’s tab, correct?” You huffed, nodding down towards the man at the end of the bar.

“Yeah.” Eddie grunted.

You rolled your eyes, a heavy pour of the bourbon you didn’t bother to measure. “The fuck is your problem?” Eddie’s palm slapped the bar, an echoing of a hit that the people next to him scurrying away. “Are you just a bitch for fun or do you have something against me?”

“You came bleeding all over my bar,” You scoffed, brow raised in a dangerously demanding way. “Don’t bother to ask for a napkin, or even acknowledge me, really. And I’m a bitch?”

Eddie’s tongue rolled over the front of his teeth, knee bouncing furiously under him. “Sorry, I’m not feeling up to small talk. I just got done gettin’ the shit knocked outta me for six rounds. Did you miss that, sweetheart? Not see all the fuckin’ people in the middle of the room?”

“No, I was a little busy.” You were quick, response rolling off your tongue in a fiery whip of an answer easily. “Busy working.”

“Yeah? What the fuck do you think I was doin’?” Eddie scoffed. “Holding a fuckin’ tea party for the Sunday Social over there? I was working too.”

“Working?” You snort, rolling your eyes again. Eddie’s teeth clench. “You call that working?”

“I got paid.” Eddie hissed. “What would you call it? Since you seem to know everything?”

“Not enough money in the world to make me do that for them.” You narrow your eyes at him. “Hardly call that working, it’s so demeaning.”

“Demeaning,” Eddie repeated, rolling his eyes. “I provide entertainment, sweetheart. Same as you do, I’m sure.” He nodded down towards your tiny dress of a uniform.

“Entertainment? That’s entertaining?” You nodded towards the ring.

“Yeah, it is. Boxing? A lot of people find it entertaining. Thought you would know that.” Eddie snapped, viscous, defensive.

“Watching two grown men beat the shit out of each other, so these other grown men can bet on you like horses?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes with a sneer. “No, can’t say that’s very entertaining to me.”

“So why are you here then, huh?” Eddie scoffed, jaw clenching in irritation. “Just here for your wonderful personality?”

Your lips twitched, the fainting of a smile, surprising Eddie. “Something like that.” Your lips rolled, twisting back to their resting snarl. “Here for the same reason you are, I guess.” You set the glass on a black napkin, sliding it over to Eddie.

“Yeah, why’s that?”

You cut your eyes towards Mr. Harrington, loudly talking and howling in laughter at the other end of the bar. “Money’s good. Right?” Your eyes squint, nearly in challenge.

“Let me know if you need anything else.” You purred, throwing a wink in his direction. Eddie’s head was spinning, and not only from all the punches he’d taken.

He blamed it on his spinning head clouding his thoughts when he waved you over again, ordered another. And another. And a final one. When his head was swimming, mind a little clouded, nerves a lot calmer, he called you over again.

“Another?” Your brow raised, snagging his empty glass off the counter.

“No.” Eddie shook his head, the ache in his knuckles starting to set in. “What if it wasn’t here that I was fighting?”

“What?” You scoffed. “What are you talking about?”

“You said it was demeaning in here.” Eddie’s finger jabbed the counter for emphasis. “What if it wasn’t here?”

You squinted at him, lips pulling in a line that had his heart skipping. “Are you drunk?” Your voice fell flat, unamused. “Do you need me to call you a ride home-”

“-If it was at a real place.” Eddie continued, eyes never leaving yours, an intensity in them that started and intrigued you. “A real match at a real rink with real people. Nobody betting, just two guys fighting for a title. Would it be demeaning then?”

You paused, watching him carefully, studying him nearly. “I guess not.” You answered cooly, level and calmly.

“So you’d watch that then?”

“What?” You snarled. “Are you alright? Do you need me to call someone, or-”

“-Would you come watch me fight if it was at a real place?” Eddie asked, eyes narrowed in the same way they were before, burning you right to your very core. “In Bloomington in a few weeks.”

Your fingers pressed into your hip, willing yourself to stay composed, not falter though your heart skipped at his ask. “Maybe.” You sighed sharply. “I still don’t get the whole beating each other for fun thing-”

“-You don’t have to.” Eddie rolled his eyes, lighter this time, more playful. “Thanks for the drink.” Eddie pushed his chair back, groaning lowly when he pulled himself out of the bar stool, body stiff and tight. “Sorry for bleeding all over your bar.”

You bit back a smile, fighting the way your lips twitched, tracking him with your eyes. “No problem, Champ.” You quipped, eyes flashing in a daring way that had Eddie smirking, shaking his head.

“See you around.” Eddie waved, one last look over his shoulder that had you burning, turning to empty his glass, hoping to hide your fluster.

You were shocked the next day when two tickets in an envelope were waiting for you in the office, Mr. Harrington’s exaggerated tone about how much Eddie liked you. And he must have, you decided, looking at the small note that had his phone number scribbled at the bottom.

Eddie never heard back from you, let it slip his mind in the next weeks of training. Of course you hadn’t come, why would you have? You made your opinions abundantly clear to him that night.

Still, he was shocked to see you, in the sea of the crowd, sitting in the row by his corner, arms wrapped around your torso, looking a little more than unsure. You even waved at him, small and shy, and Eddie was sure his cheeks were going to split with how wide he smiled.

He invited you back to his locker room after he won, a victory Camel hanging from his busted lip, torso still covered in a sheen of sweat. You had no issues this time when the blood from his busted lip dripped on your sneakers, when it smeared over your own lips when he kissed you, pressed against the cement walls, bruised knuckles and fingers in your hair.

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poisonlove · 5 months

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Apocalypse | Jenna Ortega

Author: Yesterday, I watched World War Z… that movie inspired me.

"There it is, you can do it," I whisper to myself, tightly gripping the iron baseball bat in my hands. The awareness of the darkness outside the abandoned house begins to set in. I can no longer ignore the need to face the imminent danger: zombies.

It feels surreal to think that I have to confront creatures that once existed only in video games and movies. Who would have ever imagined that reality would take such an unexpected turn? The pistol in my pocket, the pump-action shotgun behind my back, and the kitchen knife taped to my leg become my improvised allies in this fight for survival. I step out of the house, ready to face what once seemed impossible but is now the harsh reality.

I had to go and find something to eat.

The door opens slowly under my hand, the iron bat raised menacingly as I carefully survey the surroundings. My eyes move from left to right, inspecting every corner, from top to bottom, searching for any sign of imminent threat. The silence is interrupted by guttural groans of an approaching zombie.

Freezing in place, my heart pounds as the creature gets closer. Without making a sound, I take refuge behind a wrecked car, holding my breath. I watch as the zombie—a woman of perhaps thirty—limps slowly down the street. Her eyes are white, the sign of a bite still visible on her neck. The movements are uncoordinated, and the teeth clatter together, producing a horrible sound.

The female zombie starts banging against the wall. Zombies that have nothing left to bite go into a state of absolute rest. Crawling to avoid stepping on debris, I cautiously circle the car. A horrible noise emanates from the zombie's mouth, her head turning to the left for no apparent reason.

I stay still.

The zombie turns her head the other way. I check my agitation and quickly cross the street, sighing in relief at having overcome the obstacle. The tension persists, but my determination to survive in this chaotic world strengthens.

I pick up the pace, eyes still vigilant on the surroundings, and sneak into the abandoned grocery store. Through the empty shelves, I hope to find at least some preserved food that survived the chaos of the past few days.

Footsteps make me slow down, and quickly, I hide behind the liquor aisle, clutching the bat tightly. I watch carefully as I turn the corner and see no one.

Closing my eyes, I hear fast steps approaching from behind. "Damn," I whisper before turning and raising the bat toward the noise. Before me stands another armed girl. The tension eases slightly, but I remain vigilant, aware that in this new world, every encounter can be risky.

"What the hell," I say with surprise.

The girl lowers the scarf from her face. Two brown eyes stare at me with confusion. The gun continues to point at me.

"Are you a zombie?" she asks seriously, the gun barrel shaking briefly along my body.

"What? No!" I say incredulously, lowering the weapon. "Do I look like zombies talk?" I say obviously.

"You never know," she exclaims, raising an eyebrow with confusion. "Maybe you're infected," she says, smirking mockingly.

"I could say the same," I roll my eyes at her comment. "Can we avoid humans fighting each other?" I ask kindly, and the girl analyzes my words before slowly lowering the weapon.

"Do you also want to drink to forget this shit situation?" she asks, changing the subject. She turns to the shelf, looking for something to drink, shaking off the tension. She takes half-empty whiskey and shakes her backpack, opens it, and puts the drink inside.

"Actually, I would have used it in case of emergency... to disinfect some wounds," I say, grabbing bourbon.

The girl takes a sip of tequila and squints her eyes at the strong taste. "Everyone does as they please," she says, smiling broadly.

My eyes curiously observe the girl: deer-like eyes, full lips, and a radiant smile. A dimple on her cheek when she smiles.

"Do you only need alcohol?" she asks curiously.

"Food," I say simply, and the girl nods.

"Come, I'll take you to the canned food aisle," she says, smiling broadly.

My eyes catch the tag on her shirt: Jenna Ortega. Most likely, she was an employee of this supermarket before chaos erupted.

I walk cautiously behind the girl, ready to defend myself from any potential ambush. Zombies were horrible, but hungry and scared humans were just as dangerous.

"Here we are," she says kindly.

I watch the girl, now knowing her name is Jenna, thinking that maybe she's too kind for this world now falling apart.

"Take it," before walking towards the canned food aisle, I grab walkie-talkies from the box, tear off the packaging, and throw one to Jenna.

"For any eventuality," I say with a small smile on my lips.

I walk towards the shelf and kneel on the floor. I open the backpack and start putting various cans of canned meat, fruits, tomatoes, and any long-lasting food inside.

My walkie-talkie makes a sound.

Confused, I press the button to hear what Jenna had to say. "What's your name? Over and out," I smile in surprise.

"Y/n," I reply.

"Jenna," she chuckles softly. "If you come to aisle 5, corridor 2, there's water. Over and out," she whispers, and I cautiously get up from the floor.

I walk towards her indication and put 3 water bottles inside and two more in the respective backpack pockets.

I reach Jenna, who was waiting leaning against a wall. My head turns towards the supermarket checkout, and I widen my eyes seeing two zombies: One of them has blood on the face, while the other emits guttural sounds from the throat.

Jenna is about to open her mouth, but I quickly walk towards her and put my hand on her mouth. She looks at me with confusion, her breath hitting my hand. Small freckles surround her face; the girl is relatively attractive.

With my head, I indicate where to look, and Jenna slowly obeys. I remove my hand from her face, and she raises her hand with the gun.

"Too much noise," I whisper, and Jenna puts the gun in her pocket.

"Where do we get out?" I say with concern, noticing other zombies near the rear exit.

"Storage," Jenna whispers, pointing to a door behind the checkout.

We walk slowly and cautiously towards our goal, avoiding attracting the attention of the zombies near the entrance just two meters from the checkout.

We reach the storage door, but as soon as we open it, a horrible creaking attracts the attention of the zombies.

"Run!" I say anxiously, seeing how the two zombies chase us, horrible noises coming from their mouths. With a decisive blow, my bat strikes the skull of one zombie as I close the door behind us, trying to stem the flow of invaders. However, the noise has attracted other undead, and the situation becomes more critical.

"Let's go!" Jenna exclaims, taking my hand and dragging me behind her. "We're close to my hideout!" she whispers weakly.

I turn around, and a horde of ten zombies follows us ferociously, running disoriented with annoying noises coming from their wide-open mouths.

We continue to flee, Jenna leading with determination. I hit some zombies that emerge in the alleys, the bat slicing the air with fierceness. Jenna, with agility, climbs the fire escape, seeking temporary refuge from the ever-growing threat.

In the frenzy of the fight, I grab the knife and accurately strike another zombie straight in the eye, trying to clear our path. Meanwhile, Jenna (who was behind me as she kicked a zombie's jaw) quickly climbs the stairs, pulling it up behind her, preventing the zombies from following us.

The fight continues; I shoot some zombies, trying to contain the horde that becomes more numerous. "Be careful, Jenna!" I shout as the bat moves fiercely, the knife sinking into rotten flesh. Jenna, with a concentrated look, replies, "We're making our way, hang on!"

New undead join the chaos; their moans and screams fill the air. "These don't give up easily!" Jenna shouts behind a gunshot, the deafening sound in the tight hunt in the apocalypse.

We reach the top of the building; the situation becomes critical. "We have to jump!" Jenna yells, the instructions clear in the tension of the moment. "WHAT?" I reply, my bat still stained with zombie blood. Jenna guides the jump with skill, and in the adrenaline of the moment, I follow her indication.

The fall is controlled but full of adrenaline.

I quickly turn towards the horde of zombies behind us and sigh with relief as one by one, they fall from the building, crashing into the street.

"We're safe," Jenna says, smiling broadly. "Safe? How can you smile in this situation?" I say incredulously.

Jenna opens a window and briefly checks the inside before entering. I follow her, scrutinizing the surrounding environment with a mix of anxiety and curiosity. The tension in our journey through the zombie apocalypse seems to momentarily ease, but the weight of reality persists, anchored in our gazes and the visible traces of uncertain survival.

"Well, there's no one," Jenna says after inspecting every corner of the apartment, locking the entrance as a precaution.

"Well," I say, sighing tiredly. "Don't turn on too many lights," I suggest, and Jenna smiles.

Jenna sits on the couch, holding a bottle of whisky in her hands. We settle, and Jenna takes a sip. "Tell me, Y/n... what awaits you at home?" she encourages.

I begin to speak, sharing the weight of my experience during the apocalypse. "No one... I lost sight of my family," I confess, my gaze turning to the uncertain horizon. "I sincerely hope they are still alive."

Jenna listens attentively, her eyes reflecting empathy. Then, it's her turn to share. She recounts losing everything, friends who died in front of her eyes after a car accident during the apocalypse. Sadness permeates the room as our stories intertwine in a context of devastation and loss.

So here we are, two souls seeking a bit of comfort in this ruined world, sharing the burden of our stories in a dialogue of sadness and hope.

Jenna rests her head on my shoulder, taking another sip of whiskey. Her shoulders tremble as the brunette starts to sob.

I feel her palpable pain, like an echo of the tragedies we both have endured. Instinctively, I try to comfort her. I wrap an arm around her shoulders, attempting to convey a sense of closeness and understanding. "We're here together, Jenna," I whisper gently, hoping my words can offer some relief in the darkness surrounding us. "We'll find a solution," I add, trying to infuse hope. "I'm sure they'll rescue us," I say as I run a hand along her shoulder.

Jenna clears her throat and lifts her head to look at me intently, her breath infused with alcohol mingling with mine. The brunette leans in slowly. I shyly turn my face the other way, burying my head in the hollow of her neck.

I wrap my arms around her waist, trying to convey a sense of calm and mutual understanding. Jenna timidly reciprocates the hug.

"Now is not the time to kiss... you're drunk, and we just met today," I say, smiling slightly.

"I'm not drunk... I need to distract myself... that's all," she says simply, revealing a fragment of vulnerability beneath the surface of the apocalypse.

Jenna looks up and gazes at me attentively, her eyes moving from the bottom to the top of my face. Jenna straddles my legs, the brunette leaning hesitantly towards my face, wanting to avoid a potential rejection. I can understand what she wants... Jenna simply desires to forget for a moment the hell that is burning through the streets of our city. The brunette raises a hand and places it on my cheek, wiping away soot with her thumb.

"And besides... even in clubs, you meet someone that night... before having fun..." she whispers and smiles broadly. I roll my eyes at her comment and melt shyly when I feel Jenna's lips gently pressing against mine.

I place my hands on her hips and reciprocate the kiss.

Jenna breaks the kiss and pulls her shirt over her head, looking at me with eyes that are beginning to widen due to the heated atmosphere. "I can't believe you want to have sex right now," I chuckle as Jenna unbuttons my camouflage jeans, her lips making contact with my skin.

"Don't blame me," she says, smiling on my neck.

My hands roam over her body, the skin tingling with shivers. Jenna joins our lips again in a swift movement, and I sigh against hers.

I think I can let go I think to myself, smiling unconsciously during the kiss.

(...)

"Damn," the exhausted brunette whispers. Jenna flops onto the opposite side of the bed, smiling as she catches her breath.

"Did you enjoy it?" I ask with genuine interest while sitting on the bed to retrieve the pants strewn on the floor. I put on a T-shirt and slip the jacket between my arms.

My eyes glance at my weapons lying on the floor.

"Yeah... but there was no need to dress up," I smile and turn my head in her direction. Jenna looks at me with a smile plastered on her lips, her body completely free from clothes.

I bite my lip mischievously.

"Do you still have energy?" I inquire, and Jenna chuckles softly. "No, I'm exhausted... out of steam," she states, and I laugh at her comment.

I lace up my boots and crouch on the floor, remaining at the same eye level as Jenna. "I'm really sorry... I don't want to seem like a girl who uses you," I brush a strand of hair from her face. "But I can't rest until we're safe and sound," I say, and Jenna genuinely smiles.

"I understand." Jenna brushes my nose with hers and gives me a small kiss on the lips. "Good," I smile and place my lips on her forehead.

I get up and leave the room, sliding into the silence of the deserted structure. While exploring the apartment for something useful, my eyes fall on a radio on one of the shelves. I decide to tune it, and amidst the static, the words of a national announcement emerge.

"Survivors, we invite you to reach the top of the MCI Center. A rescue operation is underway. We await you. The operation will take 3 days, and we will pick up any survivors at dawn."

I return to the room with Jenna, my heart pounding. "We have a chance," I announce, trying to convey the news cautiously. "They've organized a rescue operation. We just have to reach the top of a building five blocks away. Let's get ready for the journey."

Jenna genuinely smiles and gets up from the bed, starting to dress with determination. The atmosphere in the room oscillates between tension and hope. As Jenna puts on her clothes, her gaze meets mine, reflecting a mix of emotions.

"Three days to prepare," Jenna says, clenching her jaw with determination. "We have to make sure we have everything we need. Weapons, food, and anything that might be useful for the journey."

I nod in agreement. "Right. We need to be ready to face anything along the way. We don't know what awaits us out there."

We lock eyes, aware that time is running out. The rescue operation represents our hope to leave behind the nightmare of the zombies and find a safe haven. It's time to prepare for the journey that will determine our fate.

Three days later

"Damn! Help me!" I lean against the door, trying to prevent the zombies from getting in.

Yesterday, during our slow and challenging journey, Jenna and I encountered three-quarters of the Mayers family on the street: Martin, Emma, and Percy. We faced a myriad of zombies, and the run never let up. We were on the 28th floor of the redemption building just 10 minutes from extraction. Jenna was covered in sweat and had just finished the bullets. Percy had an axe, and Martin had a nice hunting rifle.

But ammunition was scarce.

I had long lost the knife I had thrown at a zombie trying to bite Jenna, and the pistol was completely empty. I only had the pump-action shotgun left.

"I got this," Percy, out of breath, hands me the axe, and I use it as a lock to block the door.

I look down, and my blood freezes seeing a scratch on my leg... was it a zombie? Just a scratch? Did I fall? But while I was trying to block the door, a couple of arms tried to touch me to get in.

"Go!" I say breathlessly. Emma looks at me confused and starts running up the stairs with her father. Jenna looks at me with a raised eyebrow as she approaches me, offering her hand. I look at her fearfully.

"Go..." I say hesitantly and slightly scared. Percy gives me a quick glance before following the family up the stairs.

"Don't play the hero and come with me," Jenna smiles genuinely, and I look at my leg. The brunette follows my line of sight, and her eyes immediately lose their brightness. "It's just a scratch." Jenna approaches without fear and looks at me with a small smile on her lips.

The zombie screams continue, and the door was about to give way despite having the axe.

"It could also be a zombie..." I say seriously, and Jenna sighs loudly.

The brunette places her hands around my face and forces me to look her in the eyes. "I don't want to lose you either," she confesses, and my heart flutters thanks to her words. "You're all I have left..." she says softly and leans towards my face, joining our lips in a swift motion.

I close my eyes during the kiss and let myself be carried away by the emotion.

"If I turn, shoot me, okay?" I quickly say, and Jenna nods sadly.

Jenna reaches out, and this time, I grab her hand without thinking twice. As soon as we reach the second flight of stairs, the door breaks, and the zombies run towards us. I kick one zombie, and we run even faster up the stairs.

"Help me with this!" I grab the wardrobe leaning against the stairs, and Jenna quickly understands my intentions.

The brunette leans, and together we throw the wardrobe, slowing down the zombies.

Jenna runs up the stairs, and finally, the door leading to the roof is visible. Emma was at the door, urging us to move. Emma points the rifle I had given her before coming here and shoots some zombies, blowing their heads off.

"Let's go!" Jenna yells and takes my hand again.

A huge smile appears on our lips as we see the helicopter flying over the building from above; some soldiers descend from the vehicle with AK-47s.

"Get in!" one of them shouts. "Girl, get out of there!" he adds, and Emma quickly turns around, running behind us. A horde of zombies exits through the door, the soldiers shoot at the horde and meanwhile retreat.

I throw myself onto the helicopter, Jenna behind me. "We made it!" Jenna yells to Martin and Percy. I smile broadly.

Emma gets in, and the soldiers jump on the helicopter, which starts to move away quickly from the building.

"We made it," I say, smiling slightly, and Jenna nods at my words. The brunette takes my face and kisses me passionately in front of everyone.

"Together," Jenna whispers, resting her forehead against mine, and I unconsciously smile at her gesture.

"We were there too," Percy intervenes, and we all burst into laughter. The atmosphere was completely different now, and I am truly grateful to avoid any confrontation with the zombies now... I just wanted to sleep peacefully and wake up next to Jenna.

The brunette rests her head on my shoulder and closes her eyes to relax a bit.

I think we can enjoy this moment of peace.

#jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x fem!reader #wednesday addams x reader #miércoles addams #wednesday addams x you #wednesday x you #zombie apocalypse

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lazybutsmexy · 1 year

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I've had this idea for a while, but I wasn't sure who to ask. But after reading Bird Hunting I'm confident you'll do it perfectly 🥰

What if the reader was affectionate with people. Like before every mission they (platonically) tells everyone 'I love you' and blows them a kiss. Leaves little notes in everyone's vests, things like that. Thank you🩷🩷

Thank you for your lovely message! I appreciate the trust you put on me, I hope not to disappoint hehe. I completed this request with both bullet headcanons and a lil'drabble, hope you like it! Under the cut for length!

Warnings: none! pure fluff, GN!reader

Word count: 1200~

Task Force 141 + affectionate reader

the moment you stepped into base it became clear that you’d be the resident care bear.

you made it your life mission to make sure everyone on base knew they were loved

because everyone deserves to be loved - looking at you, Simon *wink wink*

your levels of affection varied from person to person, always being mindful of how comfortable they felt with it

for Ghost for example, you were more inclined to have a cup of Earl Gray ready for him the moment he walked into the common lounge, and sat in silence with him for however long he needed it.

sometimes you’d pat him on the shoulder (when he was sitting down ofc) when you walked past and greeted him variations of “hello mister grim reaper!”, “how’s my favorite specter doing today?”, “woah, you look delightfully cadaverous today~”

he always glared at you when you did that, but he was definitely blushing under the facepaint and skull mask, don’t be fooled.

your loving words would stay swimming around his brain for days on end

Price wasn’t against physical affection, but he felt queasy about having a subordinate hugging him in front of others

a pat on the shoulder or the back from you, with a “glad to see you, Captain!” in the mornings was more than enough to lift his spirits for the rest of the day

you also made sure to sneak in his favorite bourbon for his birthday - he scolded you lightly about rules and regulations, but once no one was around he gave you a one-armed hug and a “thanks, kid, appreciate it”

would definitely burst into tears if you told him “Love you, dad!”, so use it wisely

with both Gaz and Soap, however, you went all out.

they had no qualms at all being physically affectionate

Soap in particular would see you running towards him and immediately drop anything he was holding to catch you in his arms, maybe even give you a lil’ twirl as you planted a wet smooch on his cheek

he would definitely give you a wet smooch back and a big ol’ squeeze

Gaz wasn’t as over-the-top with affection, he was much calmer than Soap

nevertheless, he never, ever, refused your affection

he would immediately feel soothed and content the moment you wrapped your arms around him in a hug, or gave him a kiss on the cheek

receiving any physical affection made him feel giddy in general, sometimes he had a hard time wrapping his head around some of the things he had to do for his job

if you blew Gaz or Soap a kiss they would immediately blow one back

in general, something you never failed to do was to sneak little notes of affirmation in their gear without them noticing

or at least you thought they didn’t notice

they always noticed when your fingers dig a bit too far in their pockets, they just pretended not to notice

because they knew that, the moment they needed it, they would find a lovely note in your handwriting reminding them of how loved they were

Simon made you believe he tossed them away but he actually stacked them in his journal to read in his darkest hours

Soap taped them to the wall next to his bed so he could re-read them all before he went to sleep

Price also collected them in his journal, but taped his favorite one - “Can’t wait to see you soon! Take care, love you!�� - to a framed photo of his beloved team

Gaz kept your little notes in the drawer of his bedside table, and every morning he’d choose one to keep in his pocket at all times during the day

~~~~~~

You waited patiently by the door, blinking slowly at the hallway within the base. It was zero-two-forty-five and you should definitely be asleep by now - this was not a mission for you, after all. But you wouldn't simply go to sleep without your little departing ritual.

The footsteps echoing in the hallway perked you up, your fingers fiddling with the tiny pieces of paper in your pockets.

Captain Price was the first to arrive, as usual. He shot you a warm smile the moment he noticed you, and you replicated it while opening up your arms. He glanced around and, once verifying there were no other soldiers in the vicinity, he relented and let you give him a quick hug.

A little smirk found his lips when he felt your fingers dig a bit too hard in the area near his smaller holsters. He said nothing, though, and you looked up at him with a grin.

“I hope everything goes well, Cap!”

“Thanks, kid,” he patted your head before stepping out of your short-lived embrace, he walked out and went to have a word with the pilots.

Ghost was the next one. You hadn’t heard him approach you, but he patiently waited for you to notice his presence. When you finally did, you patted his shoulder and shot him a wink, your lips still stretched into a grin as you slipped a paper in his radio holster.

“Be safe out there, ‘kay? I’ll be waiting for you, LT.”

He only answered with a small grunt, but the softness in his eyes was noticeable miles away. He waited for your touch to leave him before stepping away - he didn’t want you to think he was shrugging you off.

“Hey, Y/n!” Soap called you, and you opened your arms wide for him to fit in the middle. He let his weapon hang to wrap both arms around you, effectively picking you up and giving you a tight squeeze, “don’t miss me too much, eh?” He smirked down at you, and you answered with a chuckle and squished his cheeks between your hands - after slipping his note into one of his back holsters.

“I'll always miss you, though,” you hummed, “I promise not to watch Wednesday without you, so don’t worry about that.” He gave you another tight squeeze with a “you better not!” growl into your neck, making you giggle and kick the air.

Gaz’s own chuckle brought you back to the present, and Soap lowered you to your feet before jogging towards the helicopter. You cupped Gaz’s face and brought him down to you, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. “Take care out there, yeah? Don’t do anything too crazy, hm?”

Gaz snorted and shot you a smirk, “you sure you shouldn’t tell that to someone else?” he teased, his head tilting toward the Scot.

“And you think he’d listen to me?” you shot back, before wrapping your arms around his shoulders in a hug - also slipping his note in one of the back holsters, “see you soon, Gaz,” you mumbled in his neck, and he reciprocated with a squeeze.

Just as Gaz joined the others on the helicopter, the engine roared to life, and you stepped closer just so you’d be heard above the noise. You cupped your hands around your mouth and yelled out, “Love you! Take care! See you soon!”

You knew you wouldn’t be able to hear them say anything back, and you sometimes doubted they could even hear you over the roar of the engines. But you never failed to reassure them that there was someone waiting for their safe return.

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ghouljams · 9 months

Note

it’s my bday today so i’m kindly asking if you can write a bday thingy for goose and ghost? like it’s either one of their birthdays and how they would be during that day.

I have some 1870s Goose and Ghost queued for later, but we can do some modern birthday babes. Here is Goose knowing Ghost, because to love is to be known. Also eeeeeey fellow Virgo.

Ghost's birthday is not something he celebrates. In fact he's managed to keep it quiet for long enough to be redacted on most dossiers of information. Obviously he has a birthday, and someone must know it, but he hasn't told anyone for quite some time. You are not about to let that slide. Not when your daddy knows it.

It takes very little coaxing to get the exact date out of your father. His bear trap memory finally serving your personal whims. You waste no time popping the date on your calendar and starting your planning. Simon finds out you know about a week before the day.

He corners you in the barn, because where else does he corner you, and politely demands to know what you're planning. You are, unfortunately, adamant that it remain a surprise. You both know there's no changing either of your minds once they're made up. This makes him irritable all week. You don't see what the big deal is, but Simon is snappy. Anxious, you think. He doesn't like surprises.

He's worse the day of. He seems to wake up in a bad mood, and when he snaps at you over breakfast he only seems to get worse. He and Soap get into it over the horses. He gets into it with Gaz over how to unload hay. You're almost worried your dad will tell you to cancel his birthday with how poorly he's behaving. Especially after the fight he gets into with him over spilling the beans on the fact he actually has a day to celebrate.

When you're both finally back in your house after work he's right on the edge of explosion. Tossing his hat on the chair by the door and swearing at his boots as he tugs them off. You cross your arms and watch him throw his little tantrum with more concern than actual anger.

"Alright, let's have it." He huffs. You raise a brow.

"Have what?" You don't like his tone, but it's his birthday so you're giving him a pass.

"The party, or whatever you have planned. Give me the details, I'm not doing the surprise thing."

"You hate parties." You remind him.

"And yet here we are," He swipes his hand in front of him. You look around the room.

"Exactly, here we-" You point between the two of you, "-are."

"What?" He frowns, losing a little steam. You screw your mouth to the side, furrow your brow. You're not really sure what he isn't getting.

"You hate parties, why would I throw you a birthday party?" You explain, it doesn't seem that hard to you. Pretty easy to understand actually.

"Then what are we doing?" He asks, suspicion still evident in his voice.

"Nothing," You shrug, "I have today's footie match taped, a bottle of decent bourbon, some cake, and a couple presents. I told Soap and Gaz that we'd be 'trying something new' tonight, so they won't bug us until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest, and I thought we might order pizza, if that's alright with you."

Simon stares at you, and you stare right back. You're not going to be intimidated by a man you know as well as you know yourself. The absolute idiot.

"I might cry," Simon's tone is flat, he's joking.

"Do not cry."

"Where's the cake?" He looks around the room.

"Fridge."

"Are we lighting candles?"

"Only if you want to," You tell him, already scrolling through your usual pizza order on your phone.

"And the presents are-"

"Small, one of them's the bourbon, sorry to spoil the surprise." You smile at him, see his shoulders drop with relief. "It's your day Si, we're doing what you want to do." Another gentle reminder. You wonder what horrors he'd conjured up in his mind that had him picking fights with the whole farm.

"Whatever I want to do?" His eyes spark with excitement. You don't know if you like how quickly he's flipped this switch.

"Whatever you want to do," You agree, trying not to laugh at how relieved your boyfriend seems to barely even be celebrating his birthday.

"Fuck I love you," He breathes, scooping you up into his arms. It's not a big space but his long strides make it feel even smaller. The time between being picked up and being deposited on the bed is barely enough time to submit your pizza order. You figure it's probably best to get that in before Simon gets too singularly motivated.

"Happy birthday," You open your arms for him, holding him tightly when he climbs on top of you and presses your foreheads together.

"Thank you," He tells you with a smile, absolutely genuine.

#cod x reader #simon ghost riley #x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x oc #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost call of duty #ghost x oc #oc: goose #cowboy!ghost #I'd have complicated feelings about my birthday too if I was legally dead #anyway I genuinely think Ghost just eats Goose out for hours after this #the man has an oral fixation I just know it #why else would he wear a mask #you're trying to hide it Ghost but I see right through you #Goose tries to tap out but Ghost just tells her it's his birthday and she goes “fine”

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goldengirlls · 2 years

Text

security tape

pairings — beefy!biker!bucky x fem!reader

warnings — dom!bucky, unprotected sex, breeding kink, lap dances, talks of sex tapes/pictures/audios, dumbification, beard burn, mentions of balls, oral fem receiving, daddy kink, exhibitionism/public sex, dirty talk, spit kink and cum play

summary —only for our eyes.

wc — 3.2 k

authors note — AHH !!! OVER 2.5 K OF YOU BABIES!!! LOVE U ALL SO MUCH !!!! SO IN HONOR OF THAT, HERES THE FIRST INSTALLMENT OF MY NEW AU VERSE !!! will be part of the for our eyes only verse

࿐ m.list 🂱 s.stan list

“Well look who finally decided to make an appearance.” Bucky’s voice rang through the beer infused air, back pressed back up against the dark color cushion and behind the wooden table that was littered with papers, a screen and a nearly finished glass of bourbon. The hum of the ice makers coming to life and the music fading from one song to another.

A sympathetic and amused look, thrown in his direction as your legs took you to stand in front of the table. Hands pressing themselves against the cool wood table and resting your body against them.

“I told you I’d be here around six.” Leaning further on to the table and at the pout forming against his lips and the space growing larger between his hairline and eyebrows.

He scoffs at the audacity, looking at his watch, “Yeah, a whole forty seven minutes after.” Firm glare or what was trying to be, but the glimmer of his midnight eyes proving otherwise that he was happy you were here, with him where you where were suppose to be.

“Yeah ‘s in the general area of six.” You protest while holding back the laugh that you so desperately wanted to let go off at how childish the six foot four leather clad biker was being about this.

His arms uncross from one another and his lip untucked itself from his pearl white teeth. Not saying a word as he slid out of the booth and over to the low lit bar where the open bottle of bourbon sat, pouring himself another glass.

It was comical when you really thought about it. The six foot something tattooed cover biker with a sour look and grumbling under his breath. To anyone and everyone else he was labeled as grumpy and scary, but to you— he was a big softy, with a weak spot for you.

Making your way over to him, you squeezed your body between him and the cool wooden bar, doe eyes already begging for forgiveness, “‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to be late. I, uh got distracted.” Tucking your lip between your teeth, your cheeks growing warm at the faint thought of what made you late.

Grabbing his attention, the midnight eyes searched your face for an answer to said distraction. The pink dusted cheeks— warm to the touch, the dazey hooded glimmer in your eyes and the slightly ruffled hair was drawing a conclusion, but couldn’t quite draw a conclusion.

Then, with one last sweep over your enhanced features, it all clicked.

Bucky biting back a smile— or a smirk, “Distracted?” His voice dropping low and hands bruising your hips as he deposits you up onto the bar. “Care to explain, Ace.” Glimmer of hope you’d spill all the details he was desperately trying play in his mind.

“Uh, I couldn’t find my keys.” That was believable.

“Really?” His hands trailing up your bare legs, only covered by a denim cladded mini skirt. “When I left an hour before you, could’a sworn the were on the gold dish on the counter.” Challenging you.

Your eyes growing ten times in size, “I, uh mean my wallet. Yeah, couldn’t find my wallet.” The goosebumps rising the closer he got to the hem of your mini skirt. Fingers playing with the distressed material as he hummed at your answer — not believing your words for a moment.

Bringing your body closer to him, his lips hovered over yours, “Sure it wasn’t something else that made you late?” Bourbon mixed with mint meeting your cotton candy like lips, “Maybe something like on your phone.”

Wicked, delicious and a dangerous game.

One of Bucky’s ring cladded, tattooed hand leaving your thigh as it met the heat of your cheek, thumb brushing against the high point, encouraging your answer, “How’d you figure it out.” Sheepishly asking with a glimmer of pride.

“Cause ‘m usually the one makin’ you look that way.”

“Bucky!” A hand meeting his concrete shoulder, doe eyed and face warmer than before and far pinker.

“Love it when ya scream my name.” Smiling before pressing his lips against yours. Bucky’s tattooed hands seemed to have a mind as they wandered around your body, meeting your legs , under your skirt and ever so lightly ghosting against your thighs which elicited a moan letting him deepen the kiss and sliding his tongue into your mouth.

A fucking dream come true. His best girl — perched on the bar, leather jacket and all, nape of the neck exposed for his lips, sloppy kisses and even messier hands.

“Which video did ya watch?” Bucky spoke against your lips, trailing down your jaw and to the column of your neck, a trail of destruction everywhere his lips connected to your skin.

“I— the one of us after Sam’s house party.” Gasping out when his teeth grazed your skin. “Y’know the one where you tore my panties right in half.”

“Didn’t seem to mind when I made you cum four different times that night.” He hums against you, eyes gleaming with pride when he met your eyes that were watching his every move.

Four years of love and two years of living together. Soulmates. Complete opposites, but alike in many ways.

A crisp autumn night, layered in a waffle white long sleeve tucked away in a leather jacket with light washed denim jeans. One too many tequilas as your sneaker cladded feet took you to the very man that you’d come home to every night and show you how much he loved you every morning. And Bucky thanked his lucky stars every day for those doe eyes and wicked tongue.

You fell hard and fast for the six foot something, leather wearing, tattoo covered biker.

Neither one of you loving someone the way you loved each other. Day in and day out proving your worth to one another.

“‘Specially when I did that thing with my tongue.” He mumbles out, his forefinger running between your wet folds followed by many curse words.

You gasped out a string of incoherent words when his cold rings could be felt when his finger dipped into your messy hole.

“Gonna let me wreck you.” Other ring adorned hand squeezing your bare thigh, voice dangerously low and the midnight eyes pleading for your acceptance. “Let me destroy this little pussy. Make her cry and squirm.” Retracting his finger to bring to his lips— tasting his favorite thing.

“Sweeter than ever.” He hummed out pressing his lips against yours so you could taste you on his lips. “And always so messy for me, for daddy.”

“Bucky.” You whine grinding against his jeans, trying to alleviate the ache between your legs. The pleading, close to pathetic look you were giving him was enough for him to flip your skirt up and blow against your puffy pussy. “Don’t tease me, touch me.” Lips pouty and prominent with the taunting promise of watching them quiver.

“Yeah? Want me to make ya sing, baby? Play with her all night? Make her weap and cry till she can’t take it anymore?”

A moan escapes from your bruises lips with a nod and eyes fluttering closed.

“Gonne let me eat your pussy, baby? Know you’re gonna be my good girl for daddy tonight.” He questions licking his lips as his eyes follow your glistening pussy, “Shit, baby. A drippin’ mess, s’all for me? Needs me that bad, huh?”

Nodding your head in response, your walls clench around his forefinger and middle finger, your head becomes even fuzzier when his lips connect with your clit as his tongue begins spelling words that word spoken between the two of you.

“Got the prettiest fuckin’ pussy ever. Can’t wait to show you what she looks like when ‘m done with her tonight.”

Your senses are in overdrive. Hypersensitive. And when his beard brushed against your folds the most pornographic sounds falls from your bruised lips and he inserts a second and a string of saliva leaving his lips runs against your folds to your hole.

It’s filthy and delicious.

The pathetic whimpers leaving your mouth mixed with the wetness from your pussy and the moans from Bucky are driving you closer to the edge.

“D— Daddy, ‘m gonna cum.” You cry out, squeezing your legs around his head, only making him shove his face further into your sensitive pussy. “Don’t stop, please.” Whining out rubbing your face against his mouth and beard. The burn of his hair increasing the pleasure and without a doubt leaving the promise of him on you tomorrow.

Bucky’s tongue laid flat against your clit, his eyes connecting to yours holding eye contact telling you to cum, to be his good girl. He’s desperate to taste you — your warm cream filling his mouth. He needs you spread on his beard and he’s begging for it with every lick and curl of his finger.

A few more swipes of his tongue — spelling his name, the promise of coming home and the curl of his cool cladded fingers brushing against your spongy spot was enough for you to cum, squirming against him as you see the stars.

Bucky continues to clean you up. Never missing a drop of the warm cream lapping up every last drop. Standing tall and proud with a smirk plastered on his lips, noticing how floaty and fucked out you already look.

Your slick glistening against his beard, swollen pillow like lips and blown pupils, “Think ya can give me another on, baby?” Bucky husks out, nudging his nose against yours — smelling you on him.

Your eyes lashes flutter close when your lips meet his, moaning into his mouth with the taste of you on the tip of his tongue, as you palm at the prominent bulge hidden beneath his jeans.

The zipper makes a loud, thick sound, as your hands find the bottom of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head— only left in your mini skirt when his angry cocks’ finally able to breathe.

“Shit— gettin’ pretty everytime I see you.” The butterflies soaring in your stomach when you feel the mushroom leaky tip drag up and down the reminiscence of the mess he created earlier before he eases the head into your sore but desperate hole.

“Just stretched her out this morning, how’s she this tight already.” Bucky continues, “Guess ‘ll have to fix that, seein she’s gonna suck me back in everytime I pull out.” Bottoming out — pelvis to pelvis, chest to chest.

“Gonna fuckin’ ruin her and you, baby. Gonna have her a weapin mess, beggin’ me for more after I fill her up.” Bucky states as he slams in and out of you at a bruising but promising speed.

Bucky fucks into you as if his life depends on it. His midnight eyes connecting where his cock meets your needy hole, moaning when he sees himself covered in your slick. Bucky’s balls slapping against your ass as words fall from his lips when he feels you suck him in and clench around him.

He pounds into you relentlessly, the girth is snug and length is delicious. His bulbous tip brushing against your g’spot, the delivering of every thrust is deliberate and tasteful. He’s demanding you feel everything that makes his cock — veins, crevice and mushroom tip.

“Daddy needs you to be a good girl. He needs ya to drench his cock. Need ya to make a slutty mess, c’mon I didn’t fuck you that stupid, yet. Cum for me. Make a mess so daddy can make a mess in you.” Bucky states, eyebrows furrowed, cock slipping in and out of you.

His balls are heavy. Begging for a release. Begging to fill your silky creamy walls. Needing it.

“Be a messy slut and cum for me.” Buckys fingers start rubbing your little clit, in small deliberate circles, as you moan loudly clenching his cock like a vice making his balls tighten and body tighten.

Your legs to shake and spazz around his thick thighs, as your pussy wheeps and creams around his cock riding out your orgasm.

“Good girl, baby, fuck, gonna cum.” Bucky moans ropes of his seed shot from his bulbous tip, spewing into your bruised and velvet like walls, flooding your pussy to the brim, riding out his and your orgasms.

A few moments of labored breaths and stolen kisses, he slowly slides himself out, careful to not let anything spill out. His fingers coming down to collect the cum that’s dripped out, collecting it and running his fingers along the rim of his glass— a promise to taste you the rest of the night.

“I have to save some of you for later Ace” Licking his lips and fingers once done.

Tucking himself away and helping you collect yourself you catch that lovestruck boyish look he’s given you a million times.

He cups your cheeks, cold rings flushed against your pink cheeks, keeping you close to his heart and the steady thumps beating at the same rate. Passionate and messy. Desperate and yearning. Actions speaking louder than words. Each kiss expressing the impact and heaviness of his love. Everything pouring into this kiss.

“Much as I love those sweet lips, gotta get ready to open the bar.” Speaking lowly and with a huff. Meeting your eyes as he leaned down for one last kiss.

“Oh and Ace,” Your eyes connect with his, your head titling to the side — indicating for him to continue, “Can’t wait to watch the security tape later.” His tongue licks the rim slowly and deliberately as he goes to get the supplies to clean the counter.

taglist: @mackenzielovee @r0und3bitch @glitterandsparklessss @onmykneesforrafe

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captain-mj · 3 months

Note

Hiiiii can I please request a PriceGraves fic where General shepherd would like sexually harass Graves (ass slapping/grabbing, comments, etc.)? And like Graves is a bit scared to do anything of that nature with Price? Idk this came to me as I was under the effects of anesthesia 😂

I certainly can! I'm assuming you mean Graves is nervous to enter a relationship due to concerns that Price would start acting like that but if I misinterpreted, just send me an ask with clarification and I'll rewrite!

Graves felt his skin crawl every time he thought of Shepherd. Now that he was dead, he definitely felt better, and he'd never admit this to anyone, ever. But some of the... behaviors he had exhibited had put Graves on edge.

Graves was not a stranger to locker room talk and how men bragged about touching people, regardless of whether it was asked for or not. As a teen, he would participate, trying to fit the mold of straight man in the American South. As he got older, he started to avoid it, claiming he thought it was childish to talk about people, especially women like that. Which was partially true. He naively thought this was something straight men did. His bubble was quickly burst when he joined the military and found himself the target of that derogatory talk.

But hey, he managed. He kicked ass. Started a company. Made sure anyone that spoke or acted like that either learned their lesson and shut it up or was booted off to scramble for work elsewhere like a dog.

When Shepherd stood behind Graves during an explanation and his hand just brushed against Graves's thighs, he brushed it off as an accident and kept talking.

Then his hand firmly grabbed his ass and squeezed. Under his breath, just loud enough for Graves to hear, “firm”.

Graves despised working with him after that. When he sent his men to die in Russia, he started working through the red tape to separate themselves. Every time they were in the same room, there would be some comment, some line, even just full on grabbing and the only reason Graves didn’t kill him was that his Shadows would be dealing with the repercussions of it. So he sucked it up, minimized contact and kept it moving.

Almost a year later, with Shepherd dead and him in an entirely different position, he'd think the idea of it happening would be the farthest thing from his mind.

But he... felt Price's eyes on him. He was polite and a gentleman.

Unlike Shepherd, Graves liked Price. Really. He wouldn't mind rolling around the hay with him. But they worked together and he didn't want another situation like before.

Price sat with him one day, after a mission and everything had simmered down. He even bought him a drink at the bar. The Shadows and the 141 mingled some, chatting normally.

Graves hesitated to take the drink. "Not going to owe you anything, am I?" He didn't sound like he was joking.

Price paused, bourbon almost touching his lips. "I'm not that kind of man, Graves. I won't lie. I want you. In a way that's not that gentleman like. But I won't ask you for anything. Not unless you ask first."

Graves looked at his drink. "I don't think you'd take advantage of me. I wouldn't let you. Worried you won't respect me."

Price frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Shepherd. He didn't respect me much."

"Did he ever?" The sudden anger in Price's voice was shockingly reassuring.

"Besides grabbing me a little, no. Made some disgusting comments."

Price downed his drink. He ordered another round for the two of them. "I don't allow that kind of behavior. Not among my men. Hate to see someone in power take advantage of it."

Graves was quiet a while, finishing his drink up. He wanted to. He really, really did. He glanced over and they made eye contact.

Price never bothered to hide his emotions. It was an admirable trait. He looked at Graves with such passion and ardor.

Graves broke the gaze and kept drinking. Price patted his shoulder, like they were just friends. "Phillip, I'll always respect you. You made a company from scratch. Stronger men than most."

"Thank you, John."

They separated and Graves wanted to ask him to come back. He didn't. He kept drinking until the Shadows could pull him into karaoke. This was all he needed. They were great. The best friends and coworkers he could ask for.

The bar got ready to close and they were all kicked out. Graves felt that surge of confidence that only came from being too drunk for your own good. He grabbed Price's arm and they stumbled forward.

Price let him into his quarters. He kissed him softly. Sweetly. They both tasted of bourbon.

"Graves, you're too drunk."

"Only time I'll be dumb enough to say yes."

Price smiled at him, though it was a tinge sad. "Let me get you in bed, love." He picked him up, like he didn't weigh anything. He carried him to the bed and laid him down, making sure both of their boots were off and on the floor.

Graves pulled off his shirt and pants, quickly waving his hand at Price's grunts. "I refuse to sleep fully clothed. I'm not in the field."

Price sighed but didn't stop him, only kicking off his own socks. "I'll make tea in the morning."

"....no coffee?"

"Don't drink the stuff."

Graves groaned loudly. "Should've just went back to my own room. No dick and no coffee."

"You're too drunk for me to sleep with you."

"You're buzzed. Cancels out."

"I don't think so." Price ran his fingers through Graves's hair, admiring his flushed face. "What are the chances you pretend you don't remember tonight?"

"Higher than I want to tell you."

Price nodded and leaned down, kissing him again. Graves could feel his heart in his throat. "Not being much of a gentleman, am I?"

"You're the one person I'm okay with it." Graves told him softly. "Look, sleep in the bed with me. Nothing has to happen, but I don't want to kick a man out of his own bed."

Price nodded and crawled in with him. They pressed close together and his arm went around Graves's middle.

It felt nice. Being held. His hands didn't wander. He didn't make any comments. Even pressed against his body, where he could no doubt feel the muscle and how his hands fit around his waist and his ass pressed against him, Price said nothing. Just held him.

Graves felt his eyes start to close. "John, I want you back."

"I know."

#cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #Phillip graves #Price x Graves #Graves x Price #Captain John Price

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marsdontbesade · 6 months

Note

Headcanon: Holiday Gifts for Keanu's characters.

𝐻𝐸𝐴𝐷𝐶𝐴𝑁𝑂𝑁 ス ˚ ₊ ‧꒰ ꒱ ‧ ₊˚

ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑔𝑖𝑓𝑡𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑘𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠:

𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑎𝑛

the *stoner accent* murst happy cheery boy on xmas!

he loves, LOVES gifts

christmas is one of his most favourite holidays, or in fact, IS his favourite holiday; halloween just being a close second

not just cause of the food

or the snow

the bodacious music or jolly vibes

or the free school holidays so he won't need to do stupid bogus history homework

but because of the presents!

ted would absolutely love if you gifted him something for christmas

it doesn't have to be elaborate or big, but something that a neurodivergent (/j) rock-enthusiast weird kid like him would like

custom guitar picks, comic books, a bucket of tutti-fruity bubblegum & cheese puffs, cute little stickers, fruit-flavoured candy (not too much though as they hurt his teefies), a nintendo gameboy, drawing books....

he'd also like makeup, like black eyeliner & eyeshadow and a couple of nail polish so him and bill can use for their wyld stallyns performances

gift him some eddie van halen posters, cds, keyrings, trinkets, or any of that paranphelia and he'll worship you for life

oh yeah, he don't play around with his eddie van halen

less you forget that

he'll also love tapes and cds and merch of other rock bands he adores

RUBIX CUBE! he'll love a mean rubix cube as his personal fidget toy 🥺

ted's very easy to please, just don't buy him an air supply or beatles vinyl album

𝑗𝑜ℎ𝑛 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒

antithesis of ted

this man is the grunge adaptation of scrooge, but with less hate and more indifference

doesn't really care about xmas

mostly thinks it's for kids

giving gifts to this guy will be a little bit hard because this man is such a depressed little nihilist sometimes

he'll scoff and bluff, but deep down his emotions speaks otherwise

he never really states what he like or anything personal about him - he's a very private man with only one thing on his mind (lyke idk saving the world from satan and the apocalypse ???)

but what you do know about him is that this man is a chronic smoker

john would definitely fw a silver plated lighter

like the vivienne westwood ones

or a custom black one with his initials on it

he also drinks a lot of whiskey

jack daniel's? jim beam bourbon? jameson?

pair that up with a leather hip flask and he's good to go

silver jewellery type of guy? mhm!

he'd love a cross chain necklace

like deep-silver cross/crucifix pendant ones

would look so fucking cool on him

silver accessories always look so hot on daddy constantine

other than that, nothing much

he's not invested in xmas but he doesn't hate it

his mind will be more occupied on demon hunting and existential brainrots than that

yet he still has a soft spot (secretly) so xmas with him won't be so bleeping bad

𝑗𝑜ℎ𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑐𝑘

pretty normal about xmas

celebrating with him would be so freaking wholesome though

you're so used to seeing john as his stoic dilf self that him being all lovely with you during this jolly season would be a fever dream

giving him gifts would be, again, pretty normal

he's a simple guy, and already rich enough to buy himself whatever, after all, so your xmas shopping spend will be looking pretty alright

john is a traditional manly man so his gifts would be of that orient

he's also a bit old so keep that in mind...

brown leather-strapped watch, woody oak cologne, men's grooming set, a brand new dog that won't randomly disappear after a few months

john is a bookworm, he'd love some good ol' classic fiction novels and philosophical/critical/mindfuck books to open up and out his mind

he's a handy man so a brand-new toolbox would be nice

he's also a lover of whiskey and wine, so again, some jack daniel's or bourbon and malboc or pinot noir

this would be the funniest shit ever but please gift this man a pencil as a joke

i swear he'll be so oblivious at first but when he clocks, this mf will death stare you like hell whilst you try so hard to not burst into laughter

but on a wholesome note, a ring will put a smile right back onto that man's face

like cute couple rings you and him can wear, like he'll smile so hard

a heart locket necklace with a picture of you and him inside

oh he'll absolutely die inside

john's such a sucker for classic romance, you don't understand

he'll love vinyl records of 70s and 80s vintage classics, taking him back to his younger days

john will cherish these well... 💌

𝑗𝑜ℎ𝑛𝑛𝑦 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑟ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑

the very antithesis of ted

this man is scrooge

does not not care about xmas and probably never will

"mindless fucking consumerism"

he definitely thinks that shit is for kids

gifts for this guy will be as hard as an harvard acceptance letter

90% of the time this man is never really happy

he's either miserable or annoying or insulting or all at the same time

he would, however, accept it, if it's from you

but johnny never tells personal information

he's a very egotistical individual so the most personal you'll get from him is the edge of how big his c*ck is (*facepalms.png*)

𝑟𝑢𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑡 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑎

another happy cheery boy on xmas

and another favourite himbo of mine 💘

he obviously loves xmas

it's the only time he won't have to be digging under trash heaps for diamonds

he's a very weird and random kid so you know he'll like anything

finding a xmas present for him would be easy cause as long as the shit's entertaining, he's pretty much on board

and it's the 80s, so what really can a broke teenage runaway enjoy back then?

but anyways, that's whatever

rupert would definitely like these as gifts: comic books, candy, shakespeare novels, an eight ball, rubix cube, wristbands, money, a crown (???)-

SLIME! give the boy some green slime to play with! (helps with his stims)

*murmuring* why can i imagine him in a skir- yeah give this boy a skirt

and a skateboard

gnarly combination

𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑐𝑜/𝑗𝑢𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑛 𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑟

basic as fuck

these dudes are like the hallmarks of xmas

both are different genres of white men in hallmark-esque movies

standard white guy, 30-something year old millennial who's into sports and having a beer with the boys vs twink stock image standard white man who's a doctor and every old karen white woman's dream come true

one, however, is more generic and conventionally attractive hallmark white male than the other (julian)

shane's a manly man so he'd probably like some fishing equipment or men's grooming kit or some kind of sports team merch

he'd also like those beer keg stands or mini fridges where he can put his infinite supply of heineken or guiness inside

a handy man also so a nice new toolbox too

julian...... yeah julian i don't actually know about

he's probably just bisexual or something, idk-

that's about it.

#𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑠𝑣𝑜𝑥𝑥𝑦𝑥𝑦 #headcanon #keanu reeves #xmas #ted logan #ted theodore logan #john wick #john constantine #shane falco #rupert marshetta #julian mercer #johnny silverhand #*#x reader

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nobrashfestivity · 2 years

Photo

TO PACK AND WEAR: 2 skirts 2 jerseys or leotards 1 pullover sweater 2 pair shoes stockings bra nightgown, robe, slippers cigarettes bourbon bag with: shampoo toothbrush and paste Basis soap, razor deodorant aspirin prescriptions Tampax face cream powder baby oil

TO CARRY: mohair throw typewriter 2 legal pads and pens files house key

“This is a list which was taped inside my closet door in Hollywood during those years when I was reporting more or less steadily. The list enabled me to pack, without thinking, for any piece I was likely to do. Notice the deliberate anonymity of costume: in a skirt, a leotard, and stockings, I could pass on either side of the culture. Notice the mohair throw for trunk-line flights (i.e. no blankets) and for the motel room in which the air conditioning could not be turned off. Notice the bourbon for the same motel room. Notice the typewriter for the airport, coming home: the idea was to turn in the Hertz car, check in, find an empty bench, and start typing the day’s notes.”

—Joan Didion, “The White Album”

Photo- Julian Wasser – Joan Didion, Stingray, Side (1968)

#joan didion #julian wasser

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frenchnewwaves · 1 month

Text

Joan Didion's Packing List:

TO CARRY: mohair throw typewriter 2 legal pads and pens files house key

—Joan Didion, “The White Album” (1979)

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coleskingdom · 8 months

Text

Overheard

Pairing Adam Page x f reader Adam Cole x f reader

Rating: M Explicit

Warning: oral f receiving, fngering, thigh riding, squirting,male masturbation, praise kink, daddy kink, threesome.

This was my first attempt at a fic it’s long and got away from me

It’d been a while since you had been at a taping for Dynamite, you had stopped traveling when your own career as a sports agent had taken off. Having helped negotiate the deals for the Elite and since they were signed now you felt comfortable traveling to be with your boyfriend Adam Page.

You were standing at the monitors and after so many years together you could feel him behind you before he even spoke a word. Hey Darlin he said in his southern drawl, you let out a deep breath his presence was like a breath of fresh air. You relaxed back into his chest never taking your eyes off the monitor where Adam Cole and MJF were battling each other in a promo war. Adam put his arms around you and let you stay there against him, perfectly content.You were captivated by Cole taking Max to task, he always was a God on the mic, especially when he slipped back into the ROH version of himself. You hadn’t realized it but you had been biting your lip watching him, but Adam had. The segment ended, and you turned around to find a puzzled look on Pages face. “ Adam, what’s wrong?” you asked genuinely confused by the look on his face. “Nothin Darlin, let’s get out of here. I have a surprise for you later, and right now I could use a drink.”

At the bar in the hotel you both settled in with your drinks, you felt the months of stress melt away. You hadn’t told Adam how hard it was the past year and a half had been, as hard as it was on him, it had been equally as difficult for you. Tonight however everything felt lighter, and you felt more playful as the bourbon coursed its way through your body. Never one for big public displays of affection, tonight you slid closer to him curling up in the booth beside him your hand on his thigh. Adam took a deep breath and took another long swallow of his drink and you watched his face as you moved your hand up his thigh. “Careful, sweetheart” he warned “I know your secret and I have your surprise and if you want to know what it is, you’re going to have to be a good girl” he whispered in your ear. His voice caused a shiver up your spine, and again you bit your lip, you forced yourself to focus back on your drink. Your mind wondered what secret did he know, you had nothing to hide. “You know you have a tell y/n ?” He said laughing “What do you mean?” you asked not knowing where this was headed. “When you’re turned on sweetheart, you bite your lip” You coughed choking on that last swallow of bourbon and motioning to the waiter for another. Adam just laughed pretty pleased he had gotten this reaction out of you. “ I don’t know what you’re talking about “ you said in a haughty tone. “No Sweetheart, none of that, we are not at work and you don’t have to be in control. I think it’s funny, after all of this time you think you can hide things from me.” He said slowly stroking your arm up and down. Your breath caught when he placed his lips on your neck in that spot that made you sigh. “ Do you really think that I don’t know every single thought in your head and that I don’t know every single inch of your body. That I don’t know that I can make your brain shutoff by doing this” He pulled you on to his jean covered thigh, his leg parting yours. “That I can’t make you lose your composure in public just by doing this” He moved your hips discreetly along his thick thigh. You moaned and buried your face into his neck. “That I didn’t see when you bit your lip watching Cole in the ring tonight” You looked at him in his cornflower blue eyes and started to explain. That involuntary response wasn’t on purpose and that you loved him and only him.

“I’m not mad, I’ve suspected for awhile that you’ve had a thing for him.I overheard you and your girlfriends months ago talking about us after that match in Dallas. Tonight just confirmed it.” He said with a slight edge to his voice. Your face flushed and he placed a finger to your lips to silence whatever words you were going to say. Instead kissing you thoroughly and deeply. “Let’s get out of here” you said needing more from him, needing to be closer to him to convey that your body was his and his alone. He lifted you off of his lap through money on the table and led you to the elevator to the room you shared.

In the quiet of the elevator, you turned to face him, searching his eyes trying to read him. He stood there smug in knowing he had truly knocked you off balance. As the floors clicked off one by one you wondered what his surprise was.

The elevator opened into the penthouse suite, this had not been the room you had checked into a few hours ago. Your confusion regarding the change in the room had not allowed you to focus on who else was in the room. “ Surprise Darlin” Page whispered from behind you forcing you to focus to see a relaxed Adam Cole sitting in the living room of this penthouse suite.

Looking at Page then at Cole you could feel your entire body blush and you could feel your panties dampen just by looking at the two

Adam’s. Literally two sides of your darkest desires coming into play at the same time.

“Darlin tonight is all about you, whatever you want,however you want. If you don’t want this he was never here.” Page explained in a soft reassuring voice “If you do want this then tonight is all about your pleasure and making your fantasy come true.”

Cole patted the spot on the couch beside him, “Y/N, I’ve watched you for months and have wondered what it would be like to touch you, taste you, make you say my name. So if you want this know that I want you” You walked over to the couch never losing the grip of Pages hand in yours.

“I want this” you said confidently at Cole, looking at Page “but I don’t want it at the expense of us.” Both Cole and Page just laughed, lost at what was so funny you looked at both of them for a clue. Cole said “she doesn’t know, does she?” “Know, what?” I asked indignantly looking at Page for an answer. “ Sweetheart, you know we were roommates in ROH together, and well on occasion we had been known to share an evening with a beautiful woman.”Realization hitting you that there was much you didn’t know about your Adam.

“ You’re okay with this?” you asked one more time , Page nodded as you as you sat next to Cole. Page took the seat beside you and took down your hair, knowing how much the sensation put you at ease running his fingers through the soft strands. Cole smiled and leaned in kissing you slow at first, searching for reassurance that you wanted this as much as he did. Once satisfied he moved to your neck sucking, biting just hard enough to feel but not enough to leave a mark. You moaned when his mouth left your neck as his hands had gone to the hem of your shirt, lifting it slowly letting his hands slide across your stomach slowly making his way towards your breasts. Learning ever inch in a painstakingly slow torture that set your body a blaze. You heard a chuckle from Page who had moved to the chair across from the couch. “She’s getting impatient, you better speed it up Cole”. Cole lifted the shirt over your head and finally off your body. Taking a moment to admire you in the dark sapphire blue bra and sighed in appreciation. He kissed your shoulders along your collarbone and down to the top of your breasts. Reaching behind you, you unhooked the bra offering your breasts to him, needing his mouth and hands on you. He weighed your heavy breasts in his hands deciding which to give attention to first. He dipped his head taking your right nipple in his mouth, sucking and blowing on your hardened peak. You moaned in pure pleasure at the attention he paid to your body, running your fingers through this hair and pulling him closer urging him on. His ice blue eyes darkening with lust as he continued his ministrations, now attending to your left breast in the same way. You caught Pages eyes as he watched you being attended to by the other man. He began to rub his hand up and down his thigh, and toying with his belt buckle as the bulge in his pants grew. You were surprised at how turned on he was getting just watching you being slowly tortured by Cole.

“She likes to ride thighs, I heard her talk to her best friend about what she wanted to do to your thigh” Your body betrayed you by moaning at Pages words as Cole situated you on his leg. Your eyes tried to hide your desire. “Seeetheart, what is it that you wanted to do with my thighs? Your wish is my command” Cole said “ I ummm,” you stumbled over words that were on the tip of your tongue. “Darlin Be a good girl and tell him, you don’t want to disappoint him do you?” Page said urging you on. “ I want to use your thigh, I want to make a mess on your thigh.” Cole groaned as he began to glide your hips “What else?” He growled never losing the rhythm he had set for you, you words faltering “I, oh uh, oh God, I want you to go down on me, your face between my legs, tasting and touching me making me drunk.”That earned a groan from both men simultaneously. Page reached down unbuckling his pants freeing his cock stroking it in time with the pace of your hips. Cole lifted you off of his thigh standing you up and he kneeled in front of you unbuttoning your pants , removing your heels, and sliding the fabric down your legs. You felt like your body was on fire , being stared at under the lust filled gazes of both men. Cole moved back to the couch and repositioned you and began to set the pace of you on his jeans clad thigh your back to Cole facing your Adam. “She’s soaked” Cole groaned as your hips began to stutter as he raised his thigh to provide more friction. You felt the pressure building, you knew you were close you whined needing more friction. Cole moved one hand from your hip to the front of your underwear applying pressure on your clit using the fabric as the last bit of friction you needed. You came hard, gushing slick fluid on his thigh, as you looked at Page, as he brought himself to climax. “ Fuck that was hot” Cole said as adjusted him self realizing he was hard as he had ever been.

“Bedroom now” Page said firm and decisive helping you to the bed. Page situated himself behind you, your back to his strong chest as he positioned you at the edge of the bed. Cole strode into the room looking like the cat who ate the canary. “Cole that was just a sign you did a satisfactory job, it’s not the first time that has happened so don’t seem so smug.” Page said coolly studying the man in front of him. “ I bet I can make her do it again” Cole said smugly “I bet I can make her come so hard that she can only scream my name as my tongue and fingers are buried in her." You moaned and shifted raising your hips ready for the challenge. Page laughed “Good thing it’s my name as well, if you can do it maybe we will let you play with us again.” Page began rubbing your breasts in a possessive causing you to moan when he lightly pinched your nipple. A little reminder to the other man he was simply a guest in this situation. He kissed your neck sucking and marking biting making sure there was no doubt you were his.

Cole stood in front of you lowering to his knees removing your panties and tossing them to the floor. The time for teasing was over, he was a man on a mission. He kissed up your thighs, his hands teasing and spreading them so he can settle between them. You began to squirm your hips searching needing relief . “You’re being such a good girl, darlin. Are you having a good time? His mouth on you and my hands on you at the same time. I however will be the only one who fills you tonight, who will feel your walls flutter around my cock. You’re mine.”Page said in the lowest tone of a whisper. “ Yes Daddy”you mewled low enough only he could hear knowing the pleasure those words brought him.

Cole did not take his time he dove in like a man dying of thirst, nipping and sucking your clit, tongue exploring deep in your void. A moan fell from your lips between the sensation from Cole between your legs and Page massaging your breasts and pinching your nipple to provide just the right amount of pain. You ran one hand through Cole’s hair while your other reached back to run your hands through Adam’s. Cole slid two fingers inside making a come hither motion causing your pussy to clinch around his fingers. Jesus he hissed she’s so close , he continued his motions his mouth never leaving your clit. The pressure building was more intense than anything you had felt before. Words started to fail you you were chasing your orgasm “Oh God, oh Adam, oh my god, don’t stop keeping going, please harder right there…. Oh god Adam I’m going to come.” He moved his fingers in a fast deliberate pace, the pressure building in you that you were trying to suppress not wanting this to end but needing it to you. Page stopped massaging your breasts placed his hands firmly on your hips to stop them from rising to meet Cole and whispered “that’s my good girl come for me” that was all it took for you to let go, pleasure ripping through your body in spasms that never felt like they were going to end, you cried out for Adam as the waves kept sweeping through you as Cole worked you through every last moment of your orgasm as he rutted his hips against the bed. Breathless and spent you looked into your Adam’s eyes who were ablaze with need and his hard cock poking you in the back.

Adam moved swiftly on top of you, “Darlin, I’m gonna need you to stay with me, we’re not done yet, be a good girl and trust me” You nodded your head and rolled it to the side where you could see Cole in the chair stroking his cock. Adam turned your face to look him in the eye as he carefully slipped inside you, allowing time for your sensitive pussy to adjust to him. He groaned deeply when he bottomed out and began a slow deliberate rhythm, that was meant to show you how much he loved you. You began to flutter around him,he raised one of your legs around his powerful hip to allow him to set a pace that was bring you both to climax. He could feel how close you were and he never broke eye contact and you felt him twitch inside you so you gripped and pulled him with you as you both came together instead of screaming in ecstasy you chanted his name like a little prayer that only he could here, he collapsed still inside you as you both basked in the afterglow of what happened. He gathered you in his arms, whispering the words only for your ears. Neither of you noticed that Cole had made himself disappear, you were both so blissed out and happy. You fell asleep that way as close to people could be, happy and in love.

#adam page smut #Adam cole smut #adam page #AEW smut #Adam cole

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prolix-yuy · 11 months

Note

i spun the wheel and got the Octopus 🐙 i have no idea what it is but i'm gonna request it with javi p! i am so curious to see what you do with this 😂

I was so hoping someone would get the Octopus! It's a little athletic, but Javi P is a well-versed man, I'm sure he can handle it.

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Position: Octopus

Word Count: 1299

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, fingering (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), brief oral sex (f receiving), discussions of negative self-image and body changes.

Notes: This can be read as a plus sized reader, or reader who has gone through a change in her body. It's not specific, but she does mention clothes not fitting right. Javi is here to quell some of that.

When Javier enters your apartment, a faint cloud of cigarette smoke and Big Red gum trailing, he doesn’t expect to find you sitting on the floor of your galley kitchen, mascara streaks down your face. Your legs are bare and spread wide to accommodate a pack of Virginia Slims and tumbler of bourbon. The baggy t-shirt barely covers the scalloped edge of your simpler panties - Javi had seen all of them by now, knows your mood by what you pull out or off. It’s a comfort outfit, and Javi can clearly see that’s what you need now.

“Hermosa, what’s wrong?” he says softly, kneeling beside you as you try wiping the dark streaks away. It only succeeds in smearing the mess around.

“It’s nothing, Javi, it’s…just girl stuff. I’m sorry, I thought you wouldn’t be coming tonight.”

Javi’s brows knit up, circling your ankle with his warm, strong hand.

“Why wouldn’t I come tonight?” he asks, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb as he watches your face. You bite your lip, exhaling hard like you’re frustrated with yourself.

“Julieta,” you say simply, crossing your arms and staring down at the ripples in the rocks glass. Javi shifts his jaw, settling down to lean on the cabinets across from you. The kitchen is too narrow to stretch his legs, digging the toe of his boots into the baseboards.

“It wasn’t personal,” he says, hand still soft on you and eyes conveying as much apology as he can muster.

Julieta is a new informant, embedded deep in the Colombian government and trying to dig herself out. She was snuck into the DEA offices today, fitted with a wire and given instructions on what conversations they needed to make moves. Javi had been the one to tape the wire to her chest, thick fingers gliding over smooth skin. She was nervous, flirting in that way that Javi knew meant nothing more than deflection from how scared she was. He spoke to her soothingly, and rebuttoned her blouse. At one point he held her hands in his and gave as inspirational of a speech about her bravery as he could manage.

You must have seen. It must have hurt.

“I know it wasn’t, but then I thought, well if his eye is wandering, better give him something better to look at,” you say, words spilling out as you refuse to meet his eye. “So I went through all my clothes and tried on all the outfits I used to wear when I went out, and all the lingerie I had, and I just wanted to look really hot when you got here.” Your voice gets watery and Javi’s hands itch to pull you into his lap. “But I guess I’ve…changed or something, because everything fits weird or was too tight or emphasized all the wrong places and I just…it just hurt, that’s all. It made me feel bad about myself and I was already feeling bad about myself and I just hoped that you wouldn’t come tonight because I didn’t want to have to explain it to you because I know you would say…”

“What would I say?” Javi says, and it’s far from annoyed or angry. It’s understanding, and compassion. You sigh, and a small smile comes back to the surface.

“That it was work, and that you don’t have any attraction for her. That I’m…beautiful, and you wouldn’t be with anyone else but me. That you’re here, and that’s proof enough of how you feel.”

Javi smirks, sadness starting to fizzle off your bodies.

“Guess you’ve been listening then,” he says, smoothing his hand up your calf.

“She was really pretty. Smart. Brave,” you say quietly, and Javi finally holds his hands out. You follow easily, letting him drag you into his lap. Fitting his forehead under your chin, you both breathe for a moment as he lays soothing paths along your back.

“Can I show you what you are?” he murmurs, lips plush against your neck. Hands roaming, he kneads at all the places you bemoaned before, pressing you down on his hips so you can feel his cock fill against the harsh zip of his jeans.

“You’re kind,” he says, sucking on your collarbone just enough to sting. “And resourceful. Patient. Clever.” His hands travel up to cup your breasts, thumb swiping over your nipples to make you suck in a breath. “So fucking sexy. Delicious. Perfect.” He shucks your t-shirt up your chest to take one peaked bud into his mouth, swirling his tongue and sucking as he begins thumbing at your clit through your underwear.

“Javi,” you breathe, emotion crumpling the edges of the calm you’d finally achieved.

“Look at you,” he rasps, tilting you back to sit between his splayed legs. He drags your panties down your thighs, discarding them somewhere to be found later. Cool air caresses your folds just before Javi’s rough fingers part you, sliding from your entrance to your clit.

“Javi please, I can’t…” you plead, and Javi’s helpless to deny you. Fishing himself out of his jeans, he angles himself down to notch at your entrance.

“I’ve got you, hermosa,” he soothes, pressing into your slick pussy with incredible restraint. Your head falls back against the cabinets, fingers scrabbling on the linoleum. Your face pinches in pleasure, but it’s not enough. He needs to show you more, better, what you deserve from a man that has walked the wrong path often enough to know what the right one looks like.

“I’ve got you,” he says again, fitting his hands under your calves to lift them up and onto his shoulders. You whine, the new stretch intense as he plunges deeper into you, helping hold your hips as you plant your hands behind you. It’s cramped and awkward and hard on his back but you’re looking at him like he’s hung the moon and if Javi doesn’t concentrate he’s going to bust right now.

He doesn’t have much leverage this way, but he can thrust deeper in, the slide out just enough before pummeling against your g-spot again and again. He knows he’s hitting it just right when you ride him back, tilting your hips to zero in on every pleasure center he can light up. Banding an arm across your thighs, he buries a hand between your legs and rubs the flat of his thumb over your drenched clit frantically. He’s not gonna last, you’re too good like this, you’re too good for him, he’s gonna…

“Javi, I’m cum…” you try to say before clamping hard on his cock, forcefully drawing his orgasm out and into your climaxing cunt. He hisses and curses through his teeth while you rock and gasp on his cock. When the final flutters subside he guides your legs back down, but instead of pulling out he lifts you back onto his lap, pulling you into a warm embrace that has his own heart swelling.

“I’ve never met anyone like you, hermosa,” he says, letting you lean back and take his face in your hands. The kisses that follow are slow and indulgent, as sticky as the cum now dripping out of you. Javi reluctantly slips out, watching your face relax and fill with adoration.

What does Javi want with adoration? To reward it, of course.

Quicker than you expect, he lifts and lowers you to the floor, peeling your t-shirt up and over your head.

“I’m glad you didn’t find anything to wear. I much prefer you like this,” he teases, sliding back down your body to kiss your swollen clit. Your hips buck, snapping his gaze up to you.

Your eyes say thank you.

His reply I’ll spend eternity proving it all to you.

Then he dives in to prove it three more times tonight.

END

LJ’s Bangathon 2023

#javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x female reader #narcos fanfiction #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #prolix fics

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starsarefire824 · 26 days

Text

moonflower

Chapter 8: Hideout

The Hideout is still as divey as Will would expect, its walls decorated in neon and deer heads. He hasn’t been here in years, but that doesn’t really matter because nothing has changed much since the last time he’s seen it; one strange day when he had been left with his dad, before Lonnie decided to stop coming around for good. The booth he sat in as an eleven year old is still there, tucked away in a dim corner with duct taped leather and water marks littering the wobbly lacquered table.

Peanut shells crunch under his feet, one of the last few places he expects that still allows it. He looks towards the large bar and spots Max in a white tank top behind the counter drying a glass. She smiles when she notices him and Will goes over, suddenly realizing that his buzz has faded.

Max puts the glass away and greets him as he sits down. He shoves away how awkward he feels and forces a smile on his face.

“What can I do you for?” she asks, her smile widening.

“Bourbon?” he orders with a raised brow and tapping nervously at the bar.

Max immediately sets a tumbler in front of him and pours. Will takes it and swigs the entire two fingers down, happy when Max refills his glass without asking.

Will wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and glances around the room, watching various patrons. His eyes settle on a man in dirty tight jeans hanging on the jukebox looking for another song to play for a wasted man and woman sloppily slow dancing and two other men play pool nearby. One looks up as he chalks his stick, his tanned, young face seemingly curious.

There have been rumors about this place for most of Will’s life. What’s….available after a certain time of night. What people will turn a blind eye to.

“You lookin’ for something?” Max asks with a nod of her head towards the pool tables.

Will can’t help the blush that warms his cheeks at his obviousness, but he chuckles softly. “Hmph, I don’t know—” he tells her honestly with a shrug of one shoulder. “I just couldn’t go home yet.”

Max rests both hands on the bar, the ends of her long braids kissing the wood and her milky blue eyes watchful. She squints and ducks her chin, her gaze settling on Will’s exposed neck in his plain, dark tshirt. “Looks like you might have already found somethin’."

The bruise.

Fuck .

#byler #will byers #stranger things #mike wheeler #justmyname #byler fanfic #max mayfield #moonflower

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stevesbipanic · 1 year

Note

2 hurt/comfort #Bhits5k

Congratulations on the 5K! You are awesome and deserve it

Thank you <3

2. "What do you want?"/"I want you to choose me!"

Steve was ready to spend Valentine's Day alone this year, well not completely alone, he and Eddie had decided to drink the capitalist holiday away with booze and dumb movies. Robin was supposed to join in too but fate had other plans when Nancy finally asked her out a couple weeks prior. Steve didn't mind though, he was happy for the girls, and he was happy to spend time with Eddie.

The two boys had grown closer after the almost end of the world. Eddie made Steve laugh, a real laugh deep in his gut and with a smile so wide it crinkled at the edges. He never made Steve feel stupid, often explaining quietly things the kids said that he didn't understand. He had held Steve as he cried when he came out, sandwiched between him and Robin.

So no, he wasn't really alone, he was going to be spending the day with Eddie, pushing down the feelings that he would've wanted to spend the day with Eddie for other reasons.

He was working the opening shift, happy couples coming in to rent cheesy romcoms that they'd ignore for the sake of other activities. His and Eddie's movie selection was tucked safely under the desk. Other years he may have been just like them or spending it doing dumb shit with Robin like he had last year. He looked up at the sound of the door's bell jingling, the usual welcome spiel dying on his lips as he sees Eddie come up to the desk.

"Hey, Stevie, bad news about tonight?"

Steve feels the disappointment start to pool in his stomach, "Don't tell me Gary called in sick, you said you got the night off?"

Eddie's face pinches into an awkward expression, "No, no, still got tonight off, um well, I guess it's more good news, I kinda got a date tonight."

The disappointment plummets into dread, "You did?" He tries to cover the shock, forcing a smile onto his face, "That's, that's great, Eds."

Eddie's nervous face brightens, "It is? Oh good, I was worried you'd be upset."

Steve's face softens, his heart taking a backseat, "Course not Eds, I'm happy for you really."

Cause that's how it had always been hadn't it, others before himself. Anything different felt like his King Steve days again. So, Steve watched Eddie go, to go get ready for his date, to go leave Steve behind. The shift stretched longer after that.

When Steve finally got home the pool of dread had seeped into his veins as a deep feeling of loss. He knew it was selfish, that Eddie wasn't his. Steve dumped the bag of tapes on the table, the cruel humor of fate letting the cheesy romcom he'd slipped in there thinking it would be funny to watch with Eddie fall onto the floor.

"Fuck it," Steve said cracking open his first beer of the night and popping in the tape. Steve was crying by the end, an hour in he'd opened his stupid dad's stupid bourbon, beer bottles clattered around on the ground. The credits were rolling and Steve wished he could have a cheesy happy ending too.

He didn't even realise the phone was in his hand and ringing until he heard the Munson's answering machine. The word vomit tumbled out of him.

"I'm not happy for you Eds. I'm not happy because it should've been you and me together tonight, should've been me you were getting all dressed up for, should've been me getting your flowers and should've been me holding your hand while we got fucking takeout and watch our stupid movies that I watch so you do the stupid fucking impressions just to make me laugh and it should've been me that got to kiss you tonight, it should've been me Eds because I want you to choose me."

"Stevie?" Steve had been to wrapped up in his confession to hear the click the phone had made when it had been picked up halfway through. Steve slams the phone back into the receiver in surprise, panic slowly overwhelming him. He'd ruined everything, now Eddie knew and he'd never want to see him again, he'd go off with his new boyfriend and replace Steve. Steve couldn't keep his mouth shut and kept one of his best friends, he'd had to be selfish, he hadn't changed at all.

Steve didn't know how much time had passed, he had sunk to his knees, jamming him his palms into his eyes and sobbing. Gentle hands wrapped themselves around his wrists pulling them slowly from his face as a soft voice soothed him.

"There you are, sweetheart."

"Eddie?" Tears threatened to spring up again.

"Say. Say it again, Stevie, what do you want?"

Maybe it was a tear-induced dream but the answer came easily, "I want you to choose me."

Chapped lips brushed against his as the two boys sunk into each other, when they pulled away Steve squinted in confusion.

"But your date?"

"Cancelled it, had a feeling."

"Want to watch dumb movies with me instead?"

"It's a date, sweetheart."

Prompt List

#lots of people like prompt 2 so expect to see it a lot haha #hurt/comfort #ficlet #Bhits5k #stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things s4 #eddie munson #st4 #steddie #valentines day

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lazybutsmexy · 1 year

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Task Force 141 + affectionate reader Pt.2

Pt. 1 Pt. 3

Warnings: ANGST, character death, blood/injuries, cursing

A/N: This is for my good girl @gogh-with-the-flow because she asked very nicely 🫶♥️

Under the cut for length!

It's hard to breathe, each inhale burns your insides. Blood is flowing out freely from the wound, and you can feel it corroding your insides as well.

Your hand trembles over the wound, unable to hold a steady pressure. You can't even inform your status on the radio as your tongue grows numb and the taste of iron invades all your senses, and a brief thought flashes in your mind - you were always meant to die alone, with no one noticing. With no one caring.

You can hear Price calling for you, begging you to inform your status and location. You push yourself to raise your free hand, spitting out the blood mixed with saliva, a last effort to communicate. They could still come and save you, perhaps one of them was just outside, with a med kit. Maybe you could be stabilized and evacuated.

Wishful thinking, but hope is the last thing one should ever lose, right?

Your finger hovers over the button of your radio when you raise your sight. A shadow approaches you, the barrel of an m5 staring down at you.

All hope is lost.

You press the button.

"...love you, goodbye."

They all immediately knew the moments they heard you on the radio, they had lost you forever

Your last words weighed heavily on them

They were the same words you'd shout at them whenever they left

And now it was you who left them

Riding the helicopter back to base became a torture, knowing that you were in one of the few body bags they managed to retrieve

No one could say a word, really

Price limited himself to talking to the pilots

He had lost so many subordinates before, and he had been hesitant to accept your affection because of this

But you had been relentless, and wormed your way into their hearts without caring about the consequences

The consequences for them, at least

The moment he arrived at his office and saw your note taped on that one framed photo of the team, he realized he wouldn't be able to get any work done

He poured himself a drink in your honor, pretending the salty taste was the cheap bourbon's fault and not his tears streaming down his face.

Gaz stared at a spot in the floor of the helicopter, losing himself in his thoughts

Every now and then, his eyes would shift to the bag, before quickly shifting them away and blink back the tears

He was quieter than usual that night, barely limiting himself to answer if anyone talked to him first

When he arrived to his barrack, he took the last note you had given him, still tucked away into one of his holsters

He was going to put in in the drawer with the others, but didn't find it in himself to shut it

Instead, he took all the notes you had given him and put them under his pillow

Maybe that way he would dream about your loving words to him once again

Soap glared down at his own hands the entire trip

Out of everyone else, he had been the one who was the closest to your location

He had been the one to shoot down your killer, before he had even known he was the one

Had he known, he would have made it last longer

Probably would've made him eat a grenade and transform him into a fucking flesh puzzle

Make it hard for anyone to gather his fucking pieces

(He did plant explosives under his corpse before they left, whoever moved him would blow up in pieces too)

As soon as they arrived at base, he headed straight to the training rooms

He unloaded all his frustration on the punching bag until the skin of his knuckles broke and blood smeared the equipment and dripped on the floor

After almost two hours, he finally stopped

The floor was splattered with a mixture of blood, sweat, and angry tears

He cleaned it in silence, and bandaged his hands before heading to his barrack

As he laid down in bed, he shifted on one side and the other, unsure of whether he wanted to see your lovely notes on the wall, or not.

Ghost couldn't get his eyes away from Gaz and Soap during the trip.

He could hear your voice echo in his head as you said your last good-byes

What would you say at a moment like this?

He was never good at offering comfort, but as their superior, he supposed he should say something

Then it dawned on him

He was also your superior

When was the last time he openly showed any gratitude towards you?

You had never been subtle when showing affection, you simply adapted yourself to whoever was your target

You never once made him feel uncomfortable

Instead, you made him feel loved, worthy of having someone waiting for him

Although he had tried to push you away many times in the beginning, he ended up finding himself eager to come back alive

Because you were waiting for him - for all of them

Had it always been your plan? To make them feel the need to come back?

As he sat down at his desk that night, all your notes displayed on the hardwood table, he couldn't help but think

Who would he try his best to come back for, now that you were gone?

#platonic task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #task force 141 drabble #task force 141 headcanons #captain price #captain john price #captain john price headcanons #captain price headcanons #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley headcanons #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish headcanons #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick headcanons #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod mw2 headcanons #cod mwii headcanons

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whorekneecentral · 1 year

Text

december 24th - ribbons and bows // d.r3

Daniel Ricciardo x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Daniel being cheesy, two shots of vodka vibes lmao + alcohol and the consumption of, bondage/being tied up, finger sucking, penetrative sex, choking, cream pie.

Word Count: 1,335

Author’s Note: once again, sorry it’s late :) this one was fun to write tho + y’all wanted some big dic daddy ric (is that what it was? did I say that right??) so here you go

Holiday Advent Calendar

---

You just want to wrap your Christmas gifts but Daniel had other ideas; too many glasses of spiked eggnogs and you’re covered in ribbons and bow.

Christmas was fast approaching and Daniel left all the gift wrapping to the last minute, simply because he left all the shopping to the last minute. You two had just got home with the last bit of shopping and things you bought for his niece and nephew.

“I need more tape!” You shout to your husband from the living room.

Daniel returns, the tape looped over his wrist and two glasses, one is each hand, with some sort of milky content. He sits on the edge of the couch, handing you a glass before sliding the tape off to you.

“What’s this?” You smell the glass and he smiles.

“Eggnog.” He takes a sip from his glass before you mirror his actions.

Your face grimes at the overwhelming flavour of bourbon. “How much liquor did you put in this?”

“Like 2 shots?” He puts the glass on the coffee table.

“Is your two shots like that lady that put the whole bottle of vodka in?” You laughed, taping the edge of the box shut. Daniel smiles, leaning back into the couch as he sorts through the bag of bows you had on the cushion.

Daniel reaches forward while you’re wrapping another box, he loops the ribbon around your chest and ties a little bow behind you. “Daniel,” you chuckle, glancing over your shoulder at him.

“What?”

“What are you doing?”

“Wrapping my gift.” He smiles, sticking a bow on your boob.

You huff a laugh, smiling at your husband. “You're like an overgrown child.” You pull the bow off and stick it on his leg, undoing the ribbon and actually wrapping it around the box you had in front of you.

You and Daniel sit in silence for a bit, wrapping the last of the gifts as you chat over the extremely strong glass of eggnog. Daniel tries on numerous occasions to stick bows on you and wrap you up in ribbon, joking about opening his gift but you just wanted to finish up the wrapping before he could distract you.

Because if your husband is good for one thing, it’s distracting you.

Finally, after what felt like a million years, you were wrapping up the last present; a lego set for your nephew.

Daniel tries his ribbon trick once more, wrapping it around your middle and you lift your arms a bit, letting him slip his own under you to tie a little bow on the front of you.

You leave the ribbon he’s tied on you there as you get up to set the present with the others but you feel a hand smack your ass and you can see in the reflection of the window that your husband had stuck a bow on your ass.

Laughing, you pull the bow off to find your husband on the floor. “What are you doing ?” You ask for the millionth time that night.

You watch as he reaches up, pulling on the bow he had tied with the ribbon, putting on one end of it. “Unwrapping my gift.”

Daniel pulls you down to sit on his lap, your legs on either side, straddling him. “Is that so?” You ask, letting him take off your top.

He hums in response, eyes fixed on the red lace that covers your tits. Daniel leans forward, kissing along your collarbones and down to your tits, you were so distracted by the feeling that you missed him pulling your hands behind you and tying a perfect knot with the ribbon he had previously taken off of you.

“Daniel!” You scolded him, wiggling your wrists in an attempt to get them loose.

He smiles, satisfied as he scoots you off his lap. You were now on your knees in front of your husband, hands tied behind your back as you looked up at him. He leans down and kisses you, his knuckles brushing the underside of your chin when he looks at you, kissing you once more.

Your husband grabs your chin, tilting your head back as you look up at him.

His index fingers taps your cheek lightly and you open your mouth, “good girl.” He squeezes your face slightly before he slips his thumb into your mouth.

Daniel crouches down in front of you, eyes fixed on you and watching your every move; the way your own eyes study him or perhaps the way your lips wrap around his thumb, the feeling of your tongue on his finger.

“Bet you wish that was my cock, hm? Always did look pretty with it in your mouth.”

He smiles at the way your eyes widen at his filthy words. Daniel pulls his finger away, kissing you once more; sloppy and messy, your hands stuck behind your back before he pushes you to lay down for a moment.

His hands are quick with your shorts, giving them a tug before pulling them down. “Okay come on now,” you look up at him when he helps you up again.

“You have no patience,” he tsks, squeezing your chin between his index finger and thumb. He sits on the floor, his back against the couch when he pulls you down onto his lap.

“It’s not fun with me all tied up.” You complain, hoping he'd untie you.

Daniel smiles, “it's fun for me,” he kisses you, tapping your hip softly so you’d lift off him a bit before he lines himself up with you and you sink down onto him. The two of you let out a sigh at the same time; Daniel feeling you clench around him and you feeling him stretch you out.

"Relax,” he tells you, a hand rubbing along your thigh. “Take it so well, baby.” He mumbles against your lips before his hand wraps around your neck, fingers squeezing against the soft flesh causing a little whimper to slip past your lips.

Daniel’s eyes fixed on you; chest heaving, the thin layer of sweat across your soft skin made it glisten under the white light of the living room, your hand wrapped around his wrist.

A literal angel on earth if you asked him.

His hand finally moving from your neck, letting you take a deep breath; the air burning your lungs.

Daniel’s hand wanders down your chest, fingers brushing over your nipples before moving down your torso to your clit. He presses down, rubbing slow circles.

You fall flat against him, your husband reaching behind you to undo the knot, the ribbon tossed next to you. Your arms wrap over his shoulders, his hand resting on your lower back as he bounced you up and down on his lap.

His hand slips between the two of you once again, rubbing slow circles on your clit until he feels you clench around him again.

“Dan- fuck,” you breathe, your hand gripping his arm as he leans into you.

“I know, sweetheart.” He stops you, his hand moving in time with his hips.

Between the two, he pushes you over the edge. The knot in your stomach comes loose and your husband watches as you cum. The wetness wrapping around his cock, and with a few sloppy thrusts, Daniel follows behind you.

Your face buried in the crook of his neck, his hand rubs along the curve of your spine. “You’re so annoying,” you mumble and you can feel the rumble of his chest when he laughs.

“You know you love it.”

“I know I love you,” you sit up, your hand on his cheek. Daniel smiles, “I love you too.”

You go to kiss him but both of your phones chime at the same time. You lean over to check it and it was the little calendar reminder; it was 2 minutes past midnight which meant it was officially Christmas.

“Merry Christmas,” you smile at your husband and he kisses you. “Merry Christmas.”

---

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#anj’s holiday advent calendar #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x reader #f1 smut

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