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#Which HE deserved more than John
survivoirs · 2 years
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“They had turned an innocent child into a monster skilled at concealment and full of suppressed anger. Thanks to the endless interrogations from his parents and a series of fundamentalist preachers, John had developed an extraordinary talent: He could show others the face that they wanted to see.
In the eyes of his inquisitors, he had become a saint, a pure soul. To everyone, he was a trustworthy man, a genuine friend and confidant. Survival instinct had turned him into a chameleon, as heartless as he was shapeshifting. As a result, people told him more secrets than they told their psychiatrists, parents or priests and they never lied.
The fact that no one knew of his inner rage made him all the more dangerous. He wanted to watch it all crumble; he wanted the world to burn.”
- 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐉𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐡
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yandere-kokeshi · 2 months
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We need to know how separate TF-141 would be as house-husbands!!! Please!!!
— Yandere headcanons of TF-141 as house-husbands
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Warnings: Yandere behavior, older! characters, male gender roles, NSFW, slight delusional behaviors.
A/N: Anon, you are SO, so smart. I love you /a.
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Captain “Price” John:
The type of house-husband nobody expected for him to be– not even himself. John had partially agreed to it, and now he’s a stay-at-home dad for your cats. When he wedded you, he never thought of it this way; and now, he had promised to always care for you, did he not?
Price is well over-tired, pretty hairy and massive; beard scratchy and face all squishy; he’s a chubby man. But that doesn’t stop him at all.
John loves waking you up in the mornings. Before even shaking you awake, he loves to admire you. Watching your different breathing patterns, some dribbles of drool, and the obvious bed marks staining your face makes him smirk. But of course, it ends too short when he realizes you need to get up.
John is so, oh gentle, when waking you up. Scarred hands rubbing at your hips as he rubs his beard into your shoulder, prepping kisses and telling you to get a move on. However, if you ignore him, he’s more than happy to leave some permanent marks, yes?
He always makes your breakfast and lunch the night before, chopping the meat, fruits, and vegetables into the correct order so he can easily sleep in with you till you leave. So, when your alarm goes off, he detaches himself from you, getting up with only his red boxers– turning on the oven to preheat the food yet again and leaving them on the table for you to enjoy when you get out of the shower.
And with that, he takes your health seriously, mentally and physically, which means most foods in the house are pretty healthy. All types of fruits, veggies, protein, and fiber nourishment is given with each meal, and he expects you to eat it all. 
When shopping, he takes everything seriously. He hates getting off track, only sticking to what’s on the list, and cashiers who take too long on talking– especially if they openly flirt with him. Can’t you see I'm taken? He snarks out, showing off his wedding ring before fast walking out towards his car with his hands full.
Chores are chores. They need to be done. Dishes are easy, laundry, and vacuuming are a piece of cake. But cleaning the bathroom? Oh, that’s a bit difficult. Especially with the hidden camera he’s put out of your sight, and at times, he gets distracted; watching the many films, seeing you all naked and wet, makes Price feel... a sudden urge. How are you just so gorgeous, hm?
John is the definition of a “Pro Loyalty Card”. For all those stores he visits, he has cards for each and every single one of them, including the convenience store. They always come in handy.
Routines are his specialty; he knows everything about your schedule, to the time you leave for work, to when you call him at your lunch break, come home and collapse in his lap, all the way to sleeping in the bed naked. He’s memorized it all. 
After the long antagonizing and stressful week, John always sits you down for a long bath. He massages your shoulders, using a special lotion to rub on you after the bath. But, that’s not the only gift he's giving. Before gently and lovingly pushing you to the bed, he slowly fucks the stress and irritation of you; teeth makes ensuring you stay loyal to your man.
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Simon “Ghost” Riley
Simon is quick and sleek with shopping, getting and seeking foods that have high nutrition because you only deserve the best. Most foods he picks out are healthy, getting many baskets of fruits to ensure you enjoy your lunches. But when passing by the sugar aisle, he can’t help but choose a few sweets for you. 
A type of house-husband you’d never expect. He’s brooding, shoulders kept tight, wearing a black mask and hoodie as he sulks in the grocery aisles, holding the colored basket. You’d think he’s stealing with a gun hidden in his back pocket. However, when in reality, he’s taking his house duties extremely seriously as he eyes for the cereal aisle.
He wakes up way early, even before you start to stir awake, even before the sun rises and goals himself to get a good workout in. Even though he’s not the same lieutenant as he was years ago– he’s not lazy, and still picks up his pace whilst jogging down the street and doing push-ups in the open garage. 
At times, he wishes you could join him, and it would be fun, would it not? Having you down below, as his chest presses against yours and your flushed face being the main goal for him to continue? Or maybe, him guiding you through pull-ups, and you need his help? Oh, that’s how to make him very desperate for you in the early mornings. 
Speaking of early mornings, when you rise with his gentle shaking, whispers of “good mornin’”, and his rough stubble rubbing your neck, you realize just how lucky you are. Especially with how Riley joins in, when he notices his second favorite human is up and awake. 
Though, if you decide to ignore these two, covering your face and mumbling away, Simon will crawl over you, prep your face with sloppy kisses, and murmur hot and dirty words. His hand instinctively crawling down, snapping the band of your underwear, nails barely scratching at your skin whilst promising to get you all hot and messy, before forcing you out of bed. 
When you leave out of that door, regardless of the morning, he ensures the house is spotless before you come home. He doesn’t listen to any music, only the occasional barks from Riley as he sprays the leather couches, doing the dishes the “old-fashioned way”, and folding laundry like it’s a race. 
Most are scared of him– except for that one lady down the road. Her eyes follow Simon as if he’s a god, but he scoffs at that when she twirls her hair. You’re the real deity, he openly thinks. Of course, he shows off his pretty wedding ring, the one you got him; and somehow, Simon wishes you’d just make out with him in public, show her that he’s off limits and that he’s yours. 
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Kyle “Gaz” Garrick:
The type of househusband who immediately recognized that you needed to be cared for, and went forth with that promise between the marriage. You work so hard to make money for the both of you. And he’s devoted to doing whatever he can to be helpful too. 
Kyle is a clean freak, which means the house is nearly spotless when you come home. Every scratch at the couch has him grunting and hands vigorously trying to rub it off. Shoes inside the house are immediately put up, and he hates rainy days; looking at you with glaring pupils as you step inside with soaked coverings. But, he loves you. 
The chores in the house are easily done before the afternoon, dishes cleaned with shiny marks and the floors vacuumed. Dusting and sweeping the house with headphones on, face flushed whilst… listening to among things he’d never want you to find out. 
Laundry is always last in line, as he tends to “borrow” a good deal of dirty underwear of yours, smelling them intensely. Don’t worry though, he returns them at some point. 
Kyle is the definition of “wifey material food”. Every breakfast consists of incredible fried eggs, mixed with bacon and fluffy pancakes; lunch and dinner being different every day, which is nice. He usually sticks with foods you’re comfortable with, never going out of your zone, and tries his hardest to make different sizes of hearts out of the food. 
Though, you never seem to notice the secret ingredient, the divine particular part where the two of you are bonded stronger. Such shame, he utters. Sometimes he wishes you’d come home early– catch him desperately adding it within the dish with utter lewd excitement. 
Having you come home is the best time of the day. Waiting by the door, wearing the cactus green apron you got him years ago, with a giant smile and dinner laid out, waiting for you. By the end of dinner, you’re full; both of love, and much suffocation of affection. 
All the other housewives in the area love him. They often invite him for yoga, or work-out sessions. But, he usually uses the excuse that you need him. You do, don't you?
Every Friday, he wears and shows off certain gifts he feels that you’ll love. You work so hard for the both of you, so he should show his appreciation, should he not? Wearing all types of risqué clothing, leaving desperate messages, and having lingerie hidden underneath his black vest, coloring his skin and outlining his scars, stretch marks, and moles. Sooner or later, it leads to a heavy cuddle-sex session that he knows you’ll love. 
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Johnny “Soap” MacTavish:
The type of househusband who uses his pretty eyes and sculpted body, to get his way. Everything from seeing you at your working office and past your lunch break, to getting free food samples, all the way to a book full of coupons and all types of gifts for half the percentage. 
He’s amazing at picking food at the grocery outlet, picking up the correct portions of proper protein, vegetables, and iron. And sometimes, sneaking a few donuts, pops, and tubs of ice cream he knows you love. 
Johnny always wakes you up, the alarm rarely shaking you as your beloved husband knows your schedule by heart. He ensures your breakfast and lunch are ready by 7am, smirking at the added secret ingredients that he only knows. 
He’s more lenient with waking you up. Knowing how you like to sleep, beauty sleep he corrects, Johnny tries to let you snooze in as far as you can, before gently stirring you up as the sun rises in the opened window. 
His arms snake around your waist, cuddling up behind you whilst pulling you into his warm chest, as he nibbles on your ear and tells you to start getting up; breakfast is served on the table with awaited love. Though, if his sweet honey voice doesn’t work at this time, maybe some extremely sloppy oral will help, no? 
Johnny ensures that everybody knows you’re lovingly taken. Those hickeys and bruises on your arms, and neck show just how loveable he is. He boasts about you all the time, to his then-team, cashiers and ladies on the streets. It’s only expected you do the same, yes? 
Housewives and other househusbands either love him, or envy him. He’s pretty– too alluring to just be at home and caring for duties. Most women, and men constantly flaunt at his grown-out mohawk, often slicked back into a small bun and a few scars, especially one on his head, that prominent his face. 
He’s still in shape, working out in the early mornings and doing yoga with the other moms; who he regularly drinks coffee with. They love how sweet and handsome the man is, especially towards his spouse. 
Anyone would be lucky to have him, and many would trade a lifetime for him. But, he’s not going anywhere, not without you or your yummy neck anytime soon. 
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© yandere-kokeshi 2024 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.
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ravenromanova · 8 months
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Mine
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Pairings: Bucky x Female avenger
Warnings: Mentions of self deprecating, Sharon carter (she’s always a warning) Smut 18+ (breeding kink, metal arm kink, daddy kink, fingering, oral, p in v)
Summary: Bucky cant stand the thought of his girl flirting with someone else other than him.
Word count: 3.3k+
Main masterlist - Send me requests!!!
If looks could kill let’s just say John walker would’ve been dead the second Bucky saw you with him. Was it Bucky’s place to be jealous? No especially after he broke off your little fling a few weeks ago. But that doesn’t stop him from getting jealous at the sight of his girl with that insect.
You had been flirting and talking with walker for the past hour much to your displeasure. In all reality the only reason you had even came up with this plan in the first place, was to piss off a certain super soldier. He deserved it after he had broken your heart and left you a broken mess of a person. So even though you despised walker you flirted as if you loved the man.
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*Flash back to two weeks ago*
You had just come back from a three week long mission and you were exhausted. But you were also really excited to see Bucky again. You and him and started kinda seeing each other a few months ago. At first it wasn’t much other than just sex but it quickly became more than that… at least for you.
When you had gotten back to the compound you immediately went to take a shower before going to see him. You had done all your normal things before you slipped into Bucky’s favorite black lingerie set of yours on. Once you were satisfied with how you look you sauntered over to Bucky’s room on the same floor.
You softly knocked on the door and heard a soft ‘come in’. When you opened the door you saw him sprawled out on his bed in nothing but sweatpants.
“Hello solider” Your voice was seductive as you crawled on his bad and straddled him. Bucky didn’t say anything as you sit on his lap he didn’t even touch you like normal. A frown formed on your face at his lack of affection. What came next surprised you as well as broke your heart. Bucky put his hands on your waist and moved you off of him.
“Not in the mood Y/n” He said harshly as he sat on the edge of his bed with his back to you. Your heart tightened at his words and you felt like your world just came crashing down.
“Did something happen? Are you okay my love” The words came out a little more shaky then you would’ve liked as you spoke. You sat next to time and tried to hold his metal hand and he ripped it away from you. Tears formed in your eyes as he stood up and got off the bed leaving you there alone.
“Did i do something?” Your voice cracked and he turned to look at you. His demeanor was stiff and his eyes are dark. He scoffed as he looked at you and ran his hand through his long hair.
“You’re just too much” Bucky blurted out and that’s when the dam broke and the tears fell.
“What?” You choked out as you covered your mouth to muffle the sobs.
“You’re too much for me and i cant do this anymore” The bluntness of his words cut you deep. In that moment you didn’t know what to say or do so you just left his room in tears. You ran to your room and locked the door. You didn’t know what to think or feel all you knew is that you were broken.
What you didn’t see though was how Bucky broke down when you left the room. Truthfully you weren’t too much and he knew that. The reason he broke it off was because no other than Sharon got in his head. She had come up to him after you left for your mission asking him what you two were. He responded with ‘we are just hanging out for now. But when she gets back im making it official.’ To which Sharon scoffed.
She proceeded to tell him that if he thinks a sweet and innocent girl like you, would love a man like him that he was insane. Sharon went on for fifteen grueling minutes about how much of a monster he was and you deserved better. And he believed it and so that night he swore to himself that he’d step away from you. No matter how much it hurt he couldn’t break you and taint you.
And that was the last time you had spoke for two weeks
*End flashback*
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That day haunts Bucky like a ghost haunting its old home. He knew he had hurt you by what he did. But in his mind he did the best thing he could for you he set you free. It’s not that he thought he was a bad person now he knew he wasnt, it was his past. Bucky thought that if you truly knew all the evil things he had done like Sharon said then you wouldn’t love him anymore.
His time in Hydra was awful and the things they made him do were worse. How could anyone move past that? How could anyone love the broken man he’d become? How could you love him?
Bucky’s self deprecating thoughts were cut off as he saw walker get a little too close. He had placed his hand on your waist and brought you in closer to him. That simple and small movement was enough for the solider to see red. He knew he shouldn’t, he knew he had no place but he wasnt thinking clearly as he approached you and walker.
He was silent as he approached but you noticed him out of the corner of your eye. You can see the metaphorical daggers he is shooting to the man in front of you. You dont pay Bucky any mind as you continue your conversation smirking ‘cause you know what lies ahead.
He comes up behind you and wrap his metal arm around your waist. A smirk is quick to form on your lips as your turn around to face the solider.
“Can i help you James?” You ask playing dumb looking at with dumbly. His hands find your hips and he squeezes them and brings you closer.
“Мой” (mine) He husks out in russian and you smirk up at him. You both are quickly reminded that John is still present when you hear him clear his throat.
Bucky looks up at walker and shoots him a look that tells him to get lost. John doesn’t say anything as he just grabs his drink, nods and walks away.
“Это был довольно грубый солидер. Я был в середине разговора” (That was quite rude solider, I was in the middle of a conversation) The words are taunting as they come out and you earn a grunt in response. He doesn’t say anything as he takes your hand and leads you away from the party.
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His grip on your wrist is firm but not hard since he doesn’t wanna hurt his girl..yet. Bucky leads you up the stairs and down the hallway to his room. You don’t have time to ask what he’s doing as you’re suddenly pressed against his door.
“Bucky wait-“ You breathe out as his hips find their way to your neck. He doesn’t stop as you weakly plead.
“Bucky stop-“ And that’s what gets him to stop what he’s doing and back away a little too worried of hurting you or scaring you.
“What? What happened?” He asks almost as if you two hooking up is still normal. You look and him and roll your eyes before even attempting to speak.
“What do you mean what?” You scoff at him as you sit on the edge of his bed looking up at him. “You tell me i’m too much and that you dont want me but then go and do some shit like this” Tears form in your eyes out of frustration and Bucky looks like he’s just been stabbed.
“Doll- i know i fucked up” He sighs and he gets on his knees in front of you. “I pushed you away and made you think i didn’t want you because i was scared” His hands land on your soft thighs and then he softly kisses your inner thigh. “I was scared that you wouldn’t be able to love me for my past, That the things i’ve done would turn you away from me” His words come out a little broken as his blue eyes meet your gaze.
“It also didn’t help that i had someone telling me i wasnt good enough for you” Rage filled your veins at his confession.
“Who” You cut him off before he got the rest of his words out. His grip tightens on your thigh as he lets out a deep breath.
“Sharon, She had asked me what we were when you had left for the three week long mission. Short story short when i told her i planned on making us official when you got back she told me that you deserved better. That you might think im a good person now until you heard about the things i was forced to do. She also made a comment about the arm” His eyes move to his metal arm as he makes a fist with it.
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Anger, Sadness and Love fill your body as he finishes speaking. Anger because Sharon really thought that this beautiful man was a monster. Sadness because he believed her words and thought he was a monster. And love because this was the first time he has ever been vulnerable and open like this with you.
You reach your hands out and cup his cheeks and bring him up to your face. “I dont think you’re a monster. Then or now. I think you’re the most beautiful soul in the world Bucky. I wish you would’ve told me about this because i would’ve put all those fears to bed. I know some of the things you did in Hydra. But i also know that you didn’t have a choice, that you didn’t want to do those things” Nothing but love and honesty laces your voice as you speak.
Bucky looks at you like he just might melt at your words. He finds the courage to slowly close the gap between you two with a passionate kiss. All the love you two have for on another is poured into this one kiss.
After a few minutes you break the kiss and come up for air as you both pant. “And as for the arm” You say grabbing the dark grey and gold arm and smile at it. “Is the sexiest thing i think i’ve ever seen” His metal arm whirs as he makes a fist and grunts at your words.
“Dont say things like that Malysh” He husks against your lips. You get a surge of confidence and grab his metal hand and place it on your inner thigh.
“Why not?” The faux innocence drips off your tongue as you look at with with doe eyes. You can feel the grip of his metal hand tighten on your thigh as you groans. What you don’t know is he is fighting an internal battle right now. A part of him wants to absolutely devour you and the other part doesn’t want to hurt you and wants to cherish you.
“Because i wont be able to control myself if you continue” He says honestly as all traces of self control slowly fade away as you grip his hand.
“What if i dont want you to? What if i want you to ruin me solider?” And that’s all the needs before his head is dipping under your dress and slipping off your panties.
He lifts your dress to your hips before he dips his tongue into your wet folds. His hands spread your pussy and focuses on sucking your clit which had you screaming.
“oh fuck-“ You moan as Bucky picks up his pace and sucks at a faster pace. He looses himself in the way that you taste. Bucky eats your pussy as if he’s never eaten before, They way he devours you can only be described as feral.
“fuck i’ve missed your pussy malysh” He moans into your clit as he slowly adds two fingers into you.
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“i’ve missed you daddy” You mewl as his fingers hit that spongey in you when he curls his fingers up. Bucky smirks at you as you moan and picks up his pace as he fucks his fingers into you.
“you’re mine” He grunts and brings his face up to yours. “You hear me malysh? You’re fucking mine. No one else’s. This pussy is mine and so are you” As he finishes his sentence that’s when you claw at his back and scream as you hit your climax.
“Fuck yes im yours!” You say as you try to catch your breath. He smiles he leans in and kisses you with more passion that earlier. You moan as you taste yourself on his tongue. The kiss goes on for what feels like forever until Bucky breaks it and looks at you.
His hands rub up and down your sides and he grows frustrated that you’re still in your dress. So Bucky being Bucky rips your dress off of you and leaves you naked at the edge of his bed.
“Much better” He smirks and then rids himself of his own clothes. Your eyes widen and your mouth waters at the sight of his hard cock standing at attention. He motions for you to lay against the headboard and you do as your told and wait for his next instruction.
“Now im gonna remind you who you belong to malysh.” He husks as he crawls over to you and hovers over you. You eagerly nod your head and slowly take his cock in your hand. His head flys back at the contact and he lets out a guttural moan.
You pump his cock a few times before he stops you and pushes himself in you without warning. “OH FUCK!” The moan comes out broken as it passes your lips. He bottoms out quickly but he doesn’t move as he waits for you to adjust to his size.
“move” You whisper as you pull his face towards you and place your lips on his. Bucky wraps his arms around your neck and thrusts into you at a medium pace. The both of you moan in satisfaction when he moves against your g-spot.
“You feel so good baby, i almost forgot what is like being in this pretty little pussy” His words are filthy as they come out and you can help but be even more turned on.
He continues to thrust into you and kiss your g-spot with the tip of his cock every thrust. Bucky dips his head down and grabs a nipple and starts sucking as he thrusts get harder.
“Yes-yes oh fuck” The moan that comes out of your mouth is straight out of a porno. He doesn’t say anything as he takes his metal hand as wraps it around your throat and lightly squeezes. Your mind goes blank and fuzzy as the pleasure builds in your stomach.
“Fucking shit babydoll i can feel you squeezing my cock. Keep doing that and im gonna fill you up and fuck a baby in you.” His words unlock something in you as he speaks. Were you aware of your breeding kink before? no. But you sure as hell love the idea of carrying his kids.
“Do it. Fuck a baby into me daddy” You egg him on as you feel yourself about to cum again.
“Oh you’d like that wouldn’t you baby? You’d love to carry your soldiers seed wouldn’t you? You’d love to be my breeding whore wouldn’t you?” His questions are clearly rhetorical but you nod your head in response not being able to form words right now.
“Fuck baby im gonna cum” He moans as his pace starts to get sloppier and you get closer and closer to your high.
“FUCK!” You scream as you cum all over his cock. That’s when he grabs your hips and fucks you relentlessly as he reaches his high.
“Oh fuck malysh gonna fucking fill you up.” He moans as he finishes inside of you. But he doesn’t stop fucking you as he fucks his cum into you since he really does want to get you pregnant.
“Too sensitive” You protest as he grinds his hips into you. He stops his movements and nods his head then slowly pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss.
“You did so good baby. just sit here for a minute okay?” And then Bucky leaves you on the bed real quick while he grabs a cold cloth to clean you off with. When he comes back he sees you sprawled out on his bed and smiles softly.
“Come here baby” He say as he gets in between your thighs and uses the wet cloth to clean you up. You squirm as the cold hits your core but you soon relax and enjoy the feeling of him cleaning you.
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Once he’s done he throws the rag on the floor and moves to put you both under the covers. He pulls you to him so you are laying in his chest. You absentmindedly grab his metal hand and start playing with it and watching the light of the moon bounce off it.
“It really is beautiful” The words are barley audible as you say them but he heard them and smiled. He feels all his worries and fears melt away as he looks at you.
“Y/n?” He asks softly as his blue eyes look at you with anxiety.
“Yes my love?” Bucky’s cheeks go bright red at the pet name and he tries to compose himself before responding.
“I know i fucked up and i know that i dont deserve it but will you give me another chance and officially be my girl?” His nerves are starting to get the best of him as you just look at him for a moment.
“Of course i will solider” In that moment Bucky feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders as you respond. He leans your head up and kisses you in a soft and loving manner. When he breaks the kiss he just looks down at you with love and admiration.
“I love you doll” Your eyes widen at his confession not because it was too soon or anything but because he’s never said that to you before. Your heart melts at his words and your eyes fill with tears.
“I love you too solider” You whisper the words against is lips before you kiss him again.
And the rest of that night was filled with showing one another just how much love the other had. Bucky smiled down at you after you had fallen asleep and just admired you for a while before he fell asleep as well. He felt at peace with you in his arms again and he vowed to himself that he’d never hurt or let you go again.
~ Little bonus scene~
The next morning when you had woken up you were on a mission. And luckily for you your target was very easy to find. You walked into the kitchen in one of Bucky’s henley’s and walk up to your target. It took both you and her by surprise when you had pushed her up against a wall and held her by her neck.
“You ever disrespect him again and i will not hesitate to kill you and hide the body somewhere they will never find it” You spat as Sharon just stared at you with wide eyes. She immediately nodded and once you out her down she was gasping for air.
“crazy bitch” She coughed out as she rubbed her neck to soothe the pain. You smirked at her before walking back to Bucky’s room and slipping back in bed with him as if nothing ever happened.
~the end~
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soap-ify · 2 months
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i was wondering if you could write Price praising/body worshipping his girlfriend (the reader) for being so good even when he gets home from a mission? ᰔ She’s been so good waiting for him to get back and always listening to him in bed, he missed her so much and wants to thank her for everything she always does
instead of him coming home and crashing he’s so happy to be back with her and praises her endlessly while fucking her so good !
oh price would just be the sweetest!
cw — cunnilingus, unprotected p in v, soft sex he's so in love, subtle religious imagery.
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this mission was a brutal one, grotesque images simply etched onto price’s head as he opened the door of his house, his mood nothing short of foul. that was until he smelled the comforting scent of his home and you that his mind started to clear a bit, features softening up out of pure adoration.
oh, you. he could never be less grateful, just so enamoured by how dear you were. quickly undoing his boots and putting them aside, he marched towards the bedroom, fully determined to thank you properly for waiting for him.
ending up in between your legs while he kneeled on the ground with all your clothes scattered besides him, he didn’t even let you greet him properly after you saw him, silencing all your worried questions with his mouth that was busy with your cunt, his tongue dragging up and down your sensitive clit deliberately slow while applying just the right amount of pressing, two thick fingers gently thrusting in and out of your warm hole, curling up inside to hit that sweet spot that made you moan oh so deliciously.
“been so good f’me, hm? such a sweetheart, always doing an amazing job taking care of everything while m’gone for work.” he mumbled and pulled away for a second, letting you catch a glimpse of his beard glistening with your wetness, those blue eyes of his half open and soft, looking at you so fondly.
he hated leaving you all alone in this house in agonising suspense whenever he’d be gone for missions, even after all the promises he’d make of coming back safe to you, promises he never broke. still, all the time away from you was simply torture. he needed to make it up to you, show you how lucky of a man he is.
diving back into your cunt, his fingers continued to thrust into you while his mouth latched onto your clit, gently sucking onto it until you came apart on his fingers, letting him patiently taste you up, the moans leaving your lips sounding nothing less than the songs sung by angels.
“oh, john…” you breathed heavily softly, your orgasm leaving your body feeling tingly, eyes looking down at price who was still on his knees, beginning to press soft kisses on your thighs now, moving down to kiss both your knees and calves, kissing you over and over, mumbling sweet praises to you — he adored and worshiped you as if you were his very goddess, which you were. he’d even get on the ground and kiss it to show how much you meant to him, how you are the holy light comforting the filthiness etched within him.
“you’re beautiful.” the smile adorning his lips made your heart skip a bit, watching him get up on his feet once more before climbing on top of you, gently easing you down onto the mattress. “i love you. fuck- i love you, sweetheart.” with a groan, he moved down to press some more kisses on your neck, making you feel the rough edges of his beard scratching your skin. “can never tell you enough of that, y'know? never.”
he nearly melted right there and then when he felt your fingers gently scratching his scalp, your breathing soothing his nerves. “my baby, i love you.” he just couldn’t stop repeating it, it almost hurt. he didn’t deserve you, didn’t deserve someone so perfect who was still willing to put up with a wrecked mess like him hidden beneath all that sternness.
“i love you too…” your voice came out quiet yet assured, brimming with nothing but pure love.
soft rustles of clothes could be heard as price got rid of his own a bit too eagerly, eyes fixed on you. “oh, fuck.” he grunted under his breath once his hand held the base of his cock, all girthy and already leaking almost pathetically. he gently tapped the tip of his cock on your puffy clit a few times, grinning at the little whine that escaped you before he finally aligned it against your tight hole, gently pushing it into your cunt. your warmth enveloped him, his hips stuttering just a bit once he was overcome with emotions, poorly hiding them.
“my sweet, sweet love.” slowly caging his strong arms around your head, he felt your legs wrap around his hips while he began to slowly thrust his girthy cock into you, fully pressed down on you. your hands dug into his back while his face was aligned with yours, giving him the perfect chance to press loving kisses on your forehead and nose.
his embrace felt like a prayer of its own, his thrusts not losing their momentum despite his body aching to go a bit faster. no, not today. it was all about you today, to give you all the gentle love he held deep within him. you could feel his bushy happy trail rubbing against your clit, making it a bit achy in a good way. he probably didn’t have time to trim it properly during deployment, and oh were you grateful.
“j-john, feels so good.” you moaned blissfully into his ear, pleasure coursing through every fiber of yours, your walls clenching around him with every kiss he gave to your face, drowning your moans once he pressed his lips to yours.
it wasn’t long until your orgasm came crashing down on you once again, washing over you pleasantly while you drenched his cock. he twitched inside you, grunting as his arms came down to wrap around you and pull you impossibly close, his head burying into your sweaty neck while he continued to fuck you until he felt his balls tighten, filling you up with his warm cum.
he wasn’t willing to get away from you after that, running you a warm bath and washing you while he kissed your tits, hands massaging your thighs with the foam of the soap, the sweet aroma of lavender lingering in the bathroom, both of you fully content.
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buckysegan · 2 months
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With all my gratitude, hope and returned adoration - Part Two
Summary: John writes back to his friend from home and we hear from our friend across the way. John x She. Word Count: 1.2k. A/N: we are def rolling with some historical inaccuracies in regards to letters here but sue me. he deserves it. pstttt also should we name her? do you all want to send me random john prompts. my baby isn't ok and i'm not ok. Part one linked here. Part three linked here.
John was sure he wasn't sweating a normal amount as he looked down at the piece of paper that Buck had offered him. It had taken two whole days of questions from the man for Bucky to even decide that he was going to reply. He’d been offered the hope, what more could he ask of her. Could he ask more? There had been a return address on the letter which Buck had insisted was there for a reason and she had opened herself out for a reply from him but the Major couldn’t help but be unsure.
It was an odd feeling for him, before the war he hadn't been unsure of anything and since he’d been here? Well he hadn’t been sober enough to doubt anything that he had done. These days though Bucky felt like he doubted every single thing. The thing was, he wasn't sure that he could afford to doubt this, to look past the life line that had been offered to him. Not when each day he could feel his mind draw a little further toward the edge no matter how much he or Buck tried to keep it in check.
With a sigh he pulled the pen into his hand, eyes locked on the page for a moment before he began to scrawl.
Dear Friend From Home 
You’re gunna have to forgive me because I ain’t going to be as good as this as you are. I’ve written so many letters this war you would think that I’d have gotten a handle on it by now but I find myself at a loss when it comes to what to say to you. 
I think the first thing I got to say is thank you. I don’t know if the words I can put on paper are ever going to really tell you how much your letter meant to me. See I was a certain type of man that didn’t think much to pen pals. I figured that I’d be ok, you know, that with my boys I’d have what I needed to make it through the hard days but watching the letters for everyone else roll in has been harder than I thought it might. 
There are things that I can’t tell you cause I don’t know who might read these letters, and where I am I can’t get you no picture but I can tell you that my favorite dish is a meat and potato pie, simple I know but really I’m a simple hearty kind of guy. What makes me laugh, you asked? That’s kind of simple for me too, just good company, myself sometimes, Buck, he’s my best friend, he makes me laugh a lot. What makes you laugh? I’d like to know that. 
May I know where you are? I know that might be a big ask but you said I could ask anything I know and if I get out of here…we get some leave, I’d like to know where I need to ask for me leave to be. Then I can show you what I sound and look like and know that in return. 
If this letter doesn’t reach you for a while, know you’ve been with me the whole time. 
With all my gratitude, hope and returned adoration
Major John Egan 
“What if she doesn’t get it?” He found himself questioning quietly to Buck as he handed over the letter to make it out of camp. His best friend settled him with a soft look, one that always made Bucky feel like he had some worldly knowledge the rest of them had missed out on, that assured him everything was going to be alright. “You just gotta have hope she will John, she’ll get it.” 
With a huff Bucky nodded, pulling his hat on as he watched his letter vanish from his view all together. “Alright well I can’t sit here and wonder, I’m off to play baseball or something.”
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The letter that Bucky had so carefully handed over changed hands many more times, some fingers as rough as the pilots, some dirtier, some softer, but the last set of fingers to slide the letter from her post box had perfectly manicured fingers. Her flicking of her post was greedy as she looked for the same thing that she had every day since she’d posted her own letter.
At first, her hopes of finding what she was looking for had been unrealistic; she knew that, it hadn’t even been long enough for her letter to be received, let alone for him to get one back to her, then the other girls at the centre, they’d gotten letters back, notes, anything. That was when she had allowed her hope to return, for a moment at least. Days without anything had turned into weeks and then weeks had turned into months. Anything could have happened, that was what she tried to tell herself, he might not have gotten her letter, he might have thought it was weird and had chosen not to reply. That thought was enough to miff her, he could have at least said thank you. When she had decided no one could be that mean, her diminishing hope had turned to worry, what if he hadn't been able to receive her letter.
Flicking through each white envelope today, she almost missed it, how she didn't know because it was clearly different from the rest of them, maybe she hadn't wanted to look. "Not…" Trailing off she flicked back to the second to last letter, her eyes taking in the scrawling of her address, her eyes checking the postage before she was taring inside. "It's here, he wrote it's here." She called through the halls to the other girls that she lived with, all of which had been holding their breath with her. "Oh god I can't read it, what if he's telling me I was weird!" She cried, thrusting the unopened letter into the hands of her eager friend.
"Don't be dramatic, he's going to be throwing down his gratitude at you being a doll, you should have attached a picture with it I told you!" Meg beamed easily back at her, the same sense of reservation missing from her actions as she tore into the letter so that it could be read to the group. "Dear Friend From Home. You’re gunna have to forgive me because I ain’t going to be as good as this as you are. I’ve written so many letters this war you would think that I’d have gotten a handle on it by now but I find myself at a loss when it comes to what to say to you." That was enough, pulling the letter from Megs hands she was quick to scramble away from the group once more, locking herself into her room as re-read the opening line herself, the tears in her eyes only welling even further as she continued.
An ache in her chest formed as she read the words once more, taking in each strike of his pen where he had corrected himself or smudge from whatever he'd had on his fingers. The state of the letter was enough to make her wonder, but at least for now, she knew her friend was ok. He was alive, and he wanted to hear more from her. It couldn't have been normal, to feel this level of emotion for a man that she had never met, but she had found herself here regardless and in the middle of so much uncertainty, she wasn't going to question the pull she felt across the way to England.
Pushing from her bed she moved to her desk, paper pulled from her stationary pot, the quicker she could post this the quicker it could get to him.
"Dear Major Egan,
I'm delighted to hear I'm with you. I hope you know, that you've been with me too…"
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celaenaeiln · 5 months
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Robin Dick Grayson Characterization
I'm not sure how or where this started but there's been a rampant misunderstanding of Dick Grayson as Robin.
For some reason there have been posts upon posts that dick was some kind of angry robin and I don't know where this is coming from because in every single comic Dick is said to be the happy one. It seems to be a Covid craze because such defamation was not even in existance before 2020. Every one of the comics - Justice League, Batman, Detective Comics, Nightwing Comics, Jason's comics, Tim's comics, all of them! Talk about Dick being the happiest of the robins.
Some people say that he wanted to avenge his parents death by killing Tony Zucco. However Dick could never do that. John and Mary raised their son better than that.
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Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight Issue #100
Where do you see a raging blood-soaked boy fanon makes him out to be?
The biggest supporter of happy Dick comes from Alfred so if you're going around claiming Dick was angry, you're literally spitting on his grave because Alfred ADORED Dick. He thought of Dick as the sole reason for Bruce's happiness which made him love Dick even more.
Alfred is Dick's biggest advocator. When Bruce is hesitant in his initial days of Robin - Alfred says
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Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1000
"They will be easier than they ever were for you."
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Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1000
"He will see excitement and adventure...and he will help you see it, too."
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Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1000
"He's gotten a taste for it, Master Bruce. He has the natural skill and talent. Do you really think you could stop him at this point?"
"He could make you better. He could BE better."
"A hero forged in the LIGHT."
And Dick feels this too.
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Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1000
"Then WE help them find the better path. Together."
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Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1000
"Let's show them how to do it right."
Calling Dick an angry robin - that's an insult to Dick, Bruce, and Alfred. It's an insult to who they are as characters and it's an insult to the very creation of robin.
Dick wasn't made for vengeance. He was made for the light.
Dick is the embodiment of hope and a brighter future. He's what people look forward to on their darkest days, their shining light. He's the hero of all heroes that came after him. There is no one like him.
There are tons of comics on Dick's journey as Robin but here's a clear one as to his thoughts before he became Robin.
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Robin & Batman Issue #3
Dick wasn't angry. He's was sad, lonely, and scared.
But.
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This good boy doesn't deserve what you call him. This small loving child. Don't you dare push your evil agenda onto him.
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"I don't need to be the next batman. I can be something else. Something better."
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"And you know the best part?"
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"Now I know I don't need to be alone. And I don't have to be the dark."
"I can be the light."
"I can be Robin."
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Batman (1940) Issue #687
Dick was an excitable, brilliant, and over-excelling child. He was a ball of sunshine and happiness who loved laughing, playing games, and being crazy. He was a hypercompetent, crazy child who lived for the love of living and adventure.
It's the loss of the original dynamic duo that Alfred grieves over.
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Batman (1940) Issue #687
Just look at this adorable baby!!!
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Batman/Superman (2019) Issue #16
"Hey, Batman! You took down one of 'em and I took down three! I told ya I've been practicing!"
"Good work, Robin."
What the heck you cute adorable baby.
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"Holy--! Is this a warden's office of a museum of horrors? Look at that old rocket ship!"
"Ew. There's a skeleton inside!"
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LOOK AT THAT BABY FACE!! THE PURE ENTHUSIAM IN THE WAY HE TALKS - HE'S JUST A HAPPY BABY BOY!!
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Batman/Superman (2019) Issue #17
IT'S A CRIME TO CALL HIM ANGRY.
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Love this sweet, adorable child.
Another issue with the “Dick Grayson was an angry Robin” take. It’s not just a different perspective, it’s just blatantly wrong.
How wrong?
In order to fight the Batman who laughs, Bruce creates a machine that will emulate the joy of the happiest person he has ever known-who?
Robin Dick Grayson.
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"Happiness is seeing the world though the eyes of children."
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The Batman Who Laughs Issue #4
"Dick was the first robin. He had the happiest eyes. Circus eyes. Weightless - leaping, never falling."
Bruce drives himself insane from the joy he feels by looking at the world through Robin Dick's eyes.
Every comic. In every. single. comic. All of them talk about how Dick was a happy child and a happy robin. Dick's talk about it, Jason's talk about it, Tim's talk about it, the Justice League's talk about it, the Batman's especially - all the batman comics - talk about.
I would've actually added about 50 more panels but I ran out of image space because posts only have a 30 image limit.
I'm not kidding when I say it's IMPOSSIBLE. ABSOLUTELY, INCONCEIVABLY IMPOSSIBLE to say that Dick was angry Robin. Dick, Jason, Bruce, Tim, Damian, Alfred, Barbara, the JL, the titans, the Gotham villains - they all talk about Dick was a symbol of hope, joy, and light to Bruce and Gotham.
Not only that but if you read the comics, you would know that Dick was a happy robin because all the following robins had a cascade effect on their personality based solely on the fact that Dick was a happy robin. Jason's personality was the result of Dick being charcterized as happy, and Tim's personality was based off Dick's being happy.
But you know what the biggest piece of evidence against this blasphemy that Dick was angry robin is?
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Secret Origins (2014) Issue #8
"...Becoming a much needed FOIL to the batman, whose own grim obsession with revenge could easily have caused him to cross the line..."
Explain something to me. It canonically states the Dick was a foil to Bruce Wayne who used to be revenge obsessed and grim. A foil in literature means a character who contrasts with another character to highlight the differences between them.
So if Bruce was dark, gloomy, angry, and revenge filled and Dick was the foil, then how on earth is it possible Dick to also be dark, gloomy, angry, and revenge filled?
On top of this impossibility of Dick being angry and full of hatred, can we take a step back for a minute and think about Dick's position in all this? Dick is the very first child hero, the one countless heroes after him look up to because he, Robin, was the embodiment of light and goodness. He single-handedly dragged Bruce out of his pit of self-destruction merely by existing because of his charming and playful demeanor. How, then, is it possible for every single character in the entirety of DCU along with every single writer who has ever written a comic - to be wrong?
Let's be clear. Bruce's personality, is written to be the opposite of Dick's personality. And Dick's personality is the opposite of Bruce's. Furthermore, Jason and Tim's personality were written to be a response to Dick's. There's also Alfred waving a massive banner about how Dick is a literal godsend front and center. So. If you still believe, that Dick was not a happy robin, then you have effectively mischaracterized every single person in the entire batfamily aside from Kate.
Congratulations. It's truly an accomplishment to be so wrong.
So no, Dick was not in fact, ever, the angry robin.
Dick was a happy robin and that is the FOUNDATION of understanding the batfamily.
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Middle Class Lady Who has the Gang Sneak in Her Window
"The gang falling for a woman of a higher class and a father that doesn't approve of them so they usually sneak through their window to be together" @livingdeadgirly​
Genre: Fluff - some angst if you squint (Fem Reader uses she/her pronouns) Featuring: Arthur, John, Dutch, Javier, Charles, Sean, and Sadie Warnings: Mentions of guns, outlaw type of stuff
AN: I'm so sorry these took me forever to write! if some of them seem a little out of character please ignore it and pretend they aren't :D ---> Requests are open! Check out my guidelines if you have any questions
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Arthur Morgan:
Your father owned his own saloon which gave him an incredible insight into the type of men who frequented his establishment. He thought of this as a blessing once you started growing older and wishing to be courted, he could keep an ear out for anyone that he deemed unworthy for you.
Unsurprisingly, anyone who frequented the bar was not someone your father wanted anywhere near you. Especially when it came to an outlaw by the name of Arthur Morgan. The two of them had a long-standing feud (actually it was your father who hated Arthur and Arthur was too busy being infatuated with you to notice).
The first time Arthur was seen speaking to you in front of the saloon, your father came barreling through the doors to usher you inside. He instructed you to never speak to him again. Of course you didn’t listen.
Months go by and Arthur has made an extreme effort to get as close to you as he can without your father’s knowledge. The two of you will just so happen to go to the same general store at the same time every Friday by ‘accident’, you just so happen to run into him when you take your horse for a little trail ride to exercise, and every once in a while you both somehow end up behind the theater at on show nights by some strange chance of fate.
After a while, you’re so sick of having to keep your interactions short and sweet and secret in the public eye (lest anyone witness it and run off to tattle to your father). You write a quick letter to Arthur one day asking him to meet you at the side of your house at midnight.
When he gets there and you’re nowhere to be found he’s beyond confused; it’s not until he hears a sharp whistle and looks up to see you waving at him from your second story window that he understands your plan.
“The things I do for you, woman.” He grumbles with a smile and begins hoisting himself up the tree conveniently located right by the window.
You’ve already got the window open as he reaches the top and you begin helping him crawl inside. Now Arthur is a large, bulky man he isn’t exactly as nimble as he might have been once upon a time. You can barely contain your giggles as he lumbers into the room ungracefully and nearly face-plants into the rug on your floor.
“I ain’t had to do this since I was a boy,” He smiles down at you once he steadies himself as you grin up at him widely.
“You’re still young enough to climb through a lady’s window yet, Mr. Morgan.” You tease.
It’s the first time the two of you have ever truly been alone since you met and the tension in the air is palpable. Arthur looks between you and your carefully cleaned and decorated bedroom, then down at his dirty boots on your rug and worn denim pants. He was the complete opposite of you - he didn’t deserve to ruin your space with his grimy life and clothes.
“What you thinking about, Cowboy?” You place a hand on his cheek and turn his head to make him look back at you. He’d confess a few of his doubts, not trusting himself to tell you that he doesn’t deserve you flatout, and you’d shake your head and lead him over to your bed and have him sit down.
You’d kiss him and quiet his thoughts, allowing your actions to say more than words ever could and from that moment on he’d find himself climbing up a tree every other night.
Your father didn’t figure it out ever, even though Arthur and you were hardly ever quiet.
John Marston:
You were the most beautiful person that John had ever seen in his entire life. You were walking in the middle of town with some man nearly twice your age and John figured you were married to him - some lady victim to a man with money and a ring.
John fantasized about swooping you into his arms and saving you from a life of excruciating monotony. He’d tell the old man to kick the bucket, maybe rob him of whatever cash and valuables he had on him, and let you live your life free with him.
When he overheard you refer to the man as your father John felt absolutely giddy. He took his hat off and tried to smooth his hair down as he moved to approach you and introduce himself.
Your father watched the outlaw walk up to the two of you with a skeptical eye. He was hoping the cowboy would walk past you, but he stopped right before you and held out his hand to you. “John Marston, Miss….?” He prompted.
Your father shut it down immediately. He was so incredibly unamused that he stepped between you and John and shoved his arm down. He told John to basically get lost, but John ignored him and kept his eyes on you.
It was like love at first sight.
You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his and couldn’t hide the growing blush that heated your cheeks as he ever-so-slightly smiled at you. A small smile that disappeared as your father demanded his attention.
“Now son you get out of here before I get angry. I don’t want you anywhere near my daughter, you got that?”
John wanted to laugh at his vague threat. Who did this guy think he was? John put both hands up to show he meant no harm and took a few steps back.
“Didn’t mean nothing by it, sir,” He shrugged, “Was just being friendly.”
Your father scoffed saying he didn’t want any of John’s kindness and neither would you. You caught John’s eye while your father was speaking and mouthed ‘sorry’ with a sweet smile.
John was smitten immediately. He may seem like a big tough outlaw, but the guy is secretly a huge soft romantic. He was already envisioning your wedding and the type of house you two would build together in the middle of the prairie where no one would bother you and you could leave your respective lives.
He may have been getting ahead of himself.
Your father dragged you away and into the general store, John went off to finish a few more errands. He didn’t think he’d actually ever see you again until the moment he went back to his horse to ride back to camp.
He felt a quick tap on his shoulder and there you were looking at him with a mischievous glint in your eye.
From that moment on the two of you had to meet in secret - away from the watchful eye of your father. John took to sneaking in your bedroom anytime he got the inclination to see you (which was a daily occurrence tbh).
He’d take a stroll around the house to make sure your father’s room lights were off and see if yours were on and you were still awake. Due to his frequent visits, you were always up late waiting for him to call on you.
It was all fun and games until he’s waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to climb back out of your window before your father woke up to find him lounging in your bed. That would be a messy scene.
Dutch Van Der Linde:
Dutch thought he was too old to have to worry about meeting parents and getting the approval to see the lady he fancied. He was an old dog; he liked younger women of course but never the type who were of a higher social standing than him and needed that.
Then he met you.
You swooped into his life with your pretty dresses and sweet words and you didn’t want him at all at first. It made him want you even more.
It’s no secret that rich men are corrupt and willing to meet with anyone to make a quick buck. Your father met with Dutch to provide some intel about a train full of valuables and treasures that were interesting to both parties involved. Your dad wanted a cut of what was on that train provided the Van Der Linde gang robbed it.
Your father wasn’t a good man. He enjoyed money a little too much, and saw you as property more than his daughter. He was overprotective of you - to the point that he refused to ever let you out of his sight for even a second.
You went to every meeting between the two men and at first didn’t give a damn about Dutch. You thought he was handsome, but not the type of man you’d ever be interested in. Not until your father warned you to stay away from men like that.
He even went so far as to comment that he didn’t like the way Dutch looked at you. It fueled something inside of you. The idea of rebelling in such a way. Dutch was attractive, he had money, an exciting life, and most of all it would piss your father off if you courted the gang leader.
The next time there was a meeting between the three of you, you bat your eyelashes and laughed at Dutch’s jokes a little too hard.
Dutch bid you farewell by kissing the knuckles on your hand, and you loved the way your father basically had smoke coming out his ears at the action.
Your father didn’t bring you with him the next time he went to a meeting with Dutch. He locked you in your room, and only unlocked the door to check on you before bed that night.
You were pouting and writing a long sob-story in your diary when you heard a soft tap on the glass of your window.
You pulled back your blinds to see Dutch crouching in the dirt by your window with a wicked grin on his face.
“Can I come in, Darlin’?” He cooed with a sweet voice. You opened your window immediately and he ducked through the frame.
“You didn’t come with your father today, he said you didn’t want to attend the meetings anymore.”
You explain that you’ve basically been kept a prisoner in your room all day since your dad was convinced Dutch was trying to steal you away from him. You grumble out a few curse words after you explain and roll your eyes.
“What if I am tryin’ to steal you away?” Dutch whispered, his eyes dark and sparkling in the lamp light. You didn’t realize how pretty he was.
You bite your lip and smile, trying to keep on a tough act at his words. It’s no use, though. He’s charming, it’s why he is who he is.
“Maybe I’d let you,” You reply in a sultry low tone.
That’s all Dutch needed to hear. He helped you pack a small bag of items to bring with you and he brought you back to the camp where the gang was staying.
On your bed, you left a note telling your father you were running off with a man. Shortly after that Dutch mailed out a post saying he didn’t want to do business with your father anymore. It was all settled.
He stole you away to join him at camp, and that’s where you stayed.
Javier Escuella:
You met Javier by chance one night when you were being harassed by a local lawman after a night out at the theater. Javier rushed to the alley when he heard your shouts ordering the man to stay away from you.
Javier saw red and let his instincts take over him. He grabbed the man by the collar of his very nice shirt and used it to throw him to the mud.
“The lady asked you nicely to leave her alone. Now, I won’t be so nice if I have to ask. So, tell me, do I have to be the one to request you leave her alone?”
The man scrambled in the mud, splattering it on his dress pants and coat, as he picked himself up and ran away.
Javier introduced himself and offered to walk you home. You were a little wary of him at first, what with the guns at his belt and the knife at his thigh, but he assured you that he was not a threat. He just didn’t want you risking getting harassed again on your journey to your house.
You took him up on his offer and as he dropped you off at your front door you gave him a quick, shy peck on the cheek and asked if he wouldn’t mind coming to visit again in the future.
Javier is a blushing bumbling mess but somehow finds the words to agree and see you again later on in the week.
From that point on, this man spoils you in every possible way. He brings you flowers, fine pelts, jewelry (don’t ask where he got it), and little poems he writes or likes just so that you have a little piece of his heart.
Does your father care about all of that? No. He just cares about Javier’s status as an outlaw, a killer. He’s heard the rumors about the Van Der Linde Gang and he refuses to allow one of the members anywhere near you.
Javier is willing to do anything to see you, though.
You started leaving your windows perched open during the warm summer nights, and a low whistle alerted you to a person sitting right outside the glass. Your curtains were fluttering slightly with the wind and so all you saw was the shadow of a figure causing your mind to think of the worst scenarios possible.
You drew a knife from your vanity and clasped it in your hand ready to call for your father, but you heard a familiar voice lowly call out.
“Mi amor?”
You let out a sigh of relief and pulled the curtains back fully to see Javier smiling at you with a bouquet of wild flowers in his hands. “I wanted to see you and I couldn’t wait any longer.”
You asked him to wait outside while you barricaded your bedroom door with a stool, then opened the window wider for him to duck inside.
At first he didn’t really know what to do with himself, he planned to give you the flowers and have a quick kiss before needing to leave -  he did not expect you to usher him inside.
You took the flowers from his hands and placed them on your dresser next to the box of trinkets and gifts Javier has given you before.
You sit on your bed and make a spot for him to sit beside you. He isn’t really sure what the gentlemanly thing to do is in that situation, but just to be safe he sits on the floor by your feet. He’s gazing up at you as if you were the moon itself and doesn’t even try to hide the way his breathing quickens every time your eyes meet.
It becomes routine for him to visit you nearly every night and wait for you to barricade your door before allowing him in. Eventually he gets more comfortable and feels better about sitting next to you on your bed - though he knows it was not the proper thing to do.
He really wanted to court you the proper way, but with your father being so hesitant to know him outside of his status he had to be a little lenient on conventional courting methods.
Charles Smith:
Charles has been sneaking into your room for years.
You were childhood sweethearts, but your father had hated the relationship from the moment you expressed any sort of soft feelings for the boy.
When he first started sneaking in, it was just because your father didn’t want you to be friends. You and Charles were inseparable, so he’d sneak in when he could to read your books and play with your toys while your father was at work.
As you grew older, your feelings grew too.
You developed a strong crush on Charles and he was completely oblivious to it. At first, since you didn’t know how to express your feelings, you pushed him away and told him to stop visiting you.
Charles was crushed when you essentially told him to get lost. He couldn’t understand what caused your change of heart - he figured maybe your father had finally gotten to you and you realized you were too rich, too pretty to be his friend.
Charles stopped climbing through your bedroom windows and started only seeing you in public spaces or whenever you took your horse out for a ride.
Eventually, though, even those interactions dwindled and Charles stopped seeing you altogether.
It broke you when you didn’t speak with Charles anymore. You thought it better that way. He couldn’t find out your feelings for him - especially since you were certain he didn’t feel the same way.
Years go by, you stop seeing Charles even in fleeting moments. You heard he ran off and was living alone in the wilderness.
It was your fault, you thought. You pushed him away during his time of need and now there was no way of knowing what became of him. Whether he was alive or dead.
You grow older, your heart growing cold and calloused, and you never really recovered from the hurt you put yourself through.
One night, you’re a passenger on a train taking you deeper into the west of America when there was a loud commotion at one end of the passenger car you were in.
You put down your novel and see a group of masked men with weapons demanding valuables from every patron they pass by. They were slowly moving down the aisle, approaching where you were sitting at an alarmingly fast pace. You couldn’t think of a way out of the situation without giving away every last bit of money you had on you.
That is, until one of the masked men gets to you and instead of the harsh demands and pointed threats you expected to hear, you hear your name being whispered softly.
You look up, skin ablaze with fear and eyes watering. Through your tears you can see a familiar set of dark brown eyes peering down at you as if you were a ghost.
“Ch…Charles?” You squint. You questioned if it was just a mirage, a trick of your brain due to fear, but there was no doubting it. Those were Charles’ eyes.
He softly grabbed you by the arm and helped you out of your seat.
“Come with me,” He whispered as he pushed you through the aisle towards the exit. “I promise nothing will happen to you.”
It was stupid, but you blindly agreed as he led you out of the train and onto the dusty earth.
Charles and you caught up as the rest of his posse finished robbing the passengers of the train. You learned that he had been taken in by the Van Der Linde gang and was making a living as an outlaw. After seeing what you did on the train, that part of his story checked out.
You caught up with him as well, you informed him of your father’s fate and how his will left everything to you. How you regretted pushing him away as a teenager and how you wished he could forgive you.
“I never even hated you for it,” He said softly, “There is nothing to forgive, it’s how the world is sometimes. Cruel.”
You tried to explain your feelings at the time, but the embarrassment of it never let you fully explain.
Charles offered to take you home, but you wanted nothing more than to continue catching up with him and learning about his new life, his new family. Charles took you back to camp, and you ended up staying there with him for a few weeks. (For a fee of course, as Dutch had so cleverly thought up)
Your feelings for Charles rose to the surface once again, and you weren’t sure when or if there would ever be a time to explain how madly in love with him you were.
Sean MacGuire:
The first time y’all met was when he was sneaking through your window late one night.
Dutch had given Sean a vague plan about robbing a local lawmaker’s house while the man was scheduled to be two towns over for some political business. Dutch figured it would be a quiet, simple mission to grab some extra loot and not worry about being caught.
Sean paced around your house a few times after midnight the day your father left, and when he didn’t see any lights on or movements he figured it was safe to go in.
He checked a few key points of entry, but the windows on the ground-floor were locked and he didn’t want to risk leaving any evidence of there being a break-in for when the lawmaker came back.
Sean noticed that a window on the second floor was open the tiniest sliver, he’d be able to use a dagger to wedge it open wide enough to slip his hand in and open it fully.
He climbed up some vines growing on the side of the wood paneling and pulled his dagger to wedge it open. Once he got himself inside, he turned towards the window to close it.
His entire body stiffened when he heard the metallic click of a pistol being cocked from behind him.
“Now I’ll only say this one time, Mister, you need to get outta here before I blow a hole in you and make a mess all over these clean floors.” The threat was serious, Sean knew that, but he couldn’t help but perk up at the sweet sound of your voice as you told him you were going to shoot him if he didn’t leave.
He put his hands up, dropping the dagger he had, and turned to face you slowly. The house was dark. Shadows danced across your face and shielded your eyes making you look lethal with the gun pointed at his chest. Sean thought you were beautiful.
“I mean no harm, Miss. Just business ‘s all,” Sean gave you a toothy smile which only made you narrow your eyes.
You told him you were going to give him one chance to leave and he’d only stay if he had a death wish.
Sean wanted nothing more than to stay with you and use whatever methods he could to woo you, but he was familiar with the look in your eyes and the tone of your voice. He was scheduled to meet the gods above if he didn’t slip back out that window and into the night.
After he left, he was already planning the ways he could meet you again - under more favorable circumstances of course. He decided to visit you the next day with a peace offering and a smile.
Once dawn broke over the horizon, painting the world in a golden orange light, Sean was already up and out of camp heading to your large house on the hill.
He knocked on the door and you answered after a few minutes. Your hair was messy from sleep and your nightgown was covered by a long robe that was hastily thrown on to save your modesty.
“What the hell?” You grumbled and looked at Sean as if he had grown three heads. “Either you are the stupidest man on the planet for comin’ back here, or you truly do have a death wish. If it’s the latter give me a second to grab the gun.”
Sean was in love immediately.
“I wanted to apologize for last night. I never woulda thought ‘bout stealing from a man with such a pretty woman living under his roof.” He handed you a small box saying that it was a piece offering. Inside was a large silver coin and a note that said ‘thanks for not shooting me’.
You rolled your eyes and scoffed, but pocketed the coin and note nonetheless. You invited him in, but warned him any funny business would not end favorably for him. He only shot you a coy smile and promised that he was only coming as a gentleman, not an outlaw.
The two of you grew as friends at first but once things seemed to grow more romantic, you had to start sneaking around and avoiding your father finding out about the relationship and how it started.
Sean was glad he got the practice sneaking in your window that first night, though, because it was common practice while the two of you had to keep your romantic relations a secret.
Sadie Adler:
Sadie was a shell of herself when you met her.
She was still mourning the loss of her husband and trying to become accustomed to her new life as a member of the Van Der Linde Gang when you stumbled into her one day.
She was just starting to get back on her feet and was at the tailors in town when you strolled in with your fancy clothes and styled hair.
She wasn’t intimidated per say, but she felt a little inadequate in comparison. What with her ragged hand-me-downs from Miss Grimshaw and her few coins that she saved to buy a new linen shirt - you were like royalty compared to her.
You approached her first at the tailors. You asked if she had been in town long as you didn’t recognize her, where she came from, where her husband was (assuming she was married). Sadie didn’t know how to answer all the questions you threw in her direction.
You broke down her walls, though. You bought the shirt that she wanted and even invited her to tea with you at your house to talk about what had been plaguing her the last few weeks.
She didn’t want it to help, but Sadie could physically feel the relief flood her chest as she stopped holding on to her emotions and let them flow freely. A friendship between the two of you grew quickly and rapidly.
Then, it grew to be a little more.
Sadie had been working on jobs with Arthur and gaining her confidence back. In doing so, she finally got the nerve to kiss you goodbye one night when she was getting ready to go back to camp.
She gazed at you nervously after she did it. She couldn’t figure out what your expression meant - whether she went too far, or if you even liked her back in that way.
Tears slipped from your eyes as you looked up at her and grabbed her cheeks, shoving your lips against hers. Her kiss was sweet and gentle, but yours was aggressive and needy. You didn’t realize she felt the same way about you, and knowing that she did created a swell in your heart that never went away.
After your first kiss, you had to keep your relationship on the downlow. Your father knew that the two of you were friends (he hardly liked even that), if he found out that y’all were girlfriends he would separate you for good.
Sadie came up with the plan to visit you during the day as a good honest lady of society, but at night she would climb up through your window to enjoy spending time with you as a partner instead.
Friend by day, girlfriend by night.
Sadie slipped through your window every other night, quieter than a shadow when she came in. Sometimes you’d turn around and she would just be getting in and it would make you squeak a little as it startled you.
She kissed you to keep you quiet when that happened, though (teehee)
Sadie would spend hours with you at night. You’d help her brush her hair when there were missions she was on that took days and she wasn’t able to care for her locks. You’d let her borrow your nightgowns if she ever wanted to stay and relax in your bed until dawn.
The two of you would hold each other and talk until the mourning doves sang their melancholy songs in the early hours of the morning.
<><><><>
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bingoboingobongo · 1 year
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If the asks are still open may I make a request. I read your cuddling headcanons for task force 141 and it got me thinking. How would they react to being cradled to their fem s/o's chest. With their fingers running through their hair, listening to their heartbeat? These boys deserve to go to sleep in comfort. Let them go into such a deep sleep they almost go into the light. If you don't feel like doing the whole squad can I just have Ghost?
task force 141 + being cradled
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Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra
Warnings: none
A/N: help i've been watching neymar jr/jude bellingham edits for so long my fyp thinks im a real soccer fan
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simon "ghost" riley:
alright so simon's definitely more used to being the cradler rather than the cradled
he likes holding your head to his chest and feeling you bury your face deeper into his shirt
but honestly he's never been held by someone else
i mean just on size alone the schematics are kinda awkward
which is why he's sort of caught of guard the first time you pull him to your chest
the two of you were sitting in bed and he was telling you about his day
and you could tell that even though his voice was neutral he was absolutely exhausted (plus all the stuff he had to say just sounded so tiring)
so without saying anything (and a bit of struggle ngl this man is huge and therefore heavy) you manage to pull his head into your chest
he kinda stiffens and tries to get away but you hold him firm against your chest because you know that if he really wanted to leave he easily could
but when he sees how determined you are to keep him there it sorta flicks a switch in his mind that maybe this isn't the worse thing in the world
like obviously you wanted this and he's spent enough time with you to trust you
and besides you're so warm and even though you're not as big as him he can't help but feel secure in your arms so he starts to relax
and you tell him to pick up his head so you can take off his balaclava and he happily obliges
and he takes this opportunity to readjust into a more popular position so that he's more shifted on his side with one of his arms wrapped around your torso
and now he can feel the tiredness start to creep around his eyelids but he doesn't want to fall asleep because he wants to be able to savor this moment
but when you bring your fingers to his hair?
oh. my. lord.
simon melts IMMEDIATELY
he's kinda embarrassed about it but his eyes literally rolled into the back of his head
and after that point it is literally so hard for him to not fall asleep
like he is fighting demons just so he can stay awake and listen to your heartbeat longer
but with the way you're fingers are working magic on his scalp it's not long until his eyes are closing
he honestly doesn't even realize he fell asleep until he wakes up the next morning
and is he stiff as hell?
yes.
but was it worth it?
yes.
john "soap" mactavish:
alright so soap's definitely more chill about it than ghost
like he was the one to put his head on your chest not the other way around
he just likes how soft and warm you are and it makes him feel cozy
but he can't do it all the time because sometimes it gets to hot or he gets worried his head is too heavy
it's like being the little spoon
it's nice but sometimes you just wanna sprawl your entire body over someone else's
so he honestly doesn't let you cradle him very often
plus it's just like an awkward position for him
he doesn't wanna have to crane his neck up to see you and he has to do that when you have his head in your chest
that being said he will sacrifice seeing your face for a bit if it means having you scratch his head for him
although his favorite is when you're sitting on the couch because then he can lay his head on your lap
and then he has a good visual of your face and he gets to have you scratch his head
so it's a win win in his opinion
that being said having his head on his chest is one of his favorite positions to fall asleep in
especially when he's too tired to worry about if it's comfortable for you or not
something about your heartbeat is just soothing what can i say
kyle "gaz" garrick:
hmmm so tbh i don't think gaz is really into the head scratches
like it doesn't really work with his hair texture anyways and they feel funny to him
sorta like how some people love asmr but others can't stand it
and honestly i hate to say it but i don't really see gaz as being super into having you cradle his head and stuff
idk why i just can't see him doing that but maybe im just blind idk
like he might lean his head on your shoulder or even your head or something like that but idk he's just not a cradle kind of guy imo
he definitely loves cradling your head though
like he loves it when you're sitting in the car or on a couch and you lean your head on his shoulder and he can wrap his arm around you
definitely gives a top of the head kiss then too
maybe when he's sleeping he'll put his head on your chest
but again he'd much rather have your head on his chest
plus gaz has found that he has a very sensitive spine
(probably from falling out of like twenty helicopters let's be fr)
and so often when he falls asleep with his head on your chest he wakes up with a super stiff neck
off topic but one time he did fall asleep with his head on your chest and you moved it to his pillow once he fell asleep
and ik it sounds counterintuitive but that day gaz knew he was falling in love because the fact that you knew to do that made his heart soar
john price:
okay so price is obviously older and therefore more mature
and like the wise man he is he's never afraid to rest his head on the chest of a beautiful woman
that's honestly one of his favorite ways to spend his off days
the two of you laying on a couch watching a movie
he let you pick bc you both knew he would pass out by the thirty minute mark
i mean how could he not?
especially when he's laying on your chest and you're fiddling with his hair
twisting it and braiding it and combing through it
also you know he let's out the most guttural groan as soon as your fingers touch his head
and at that point he's more than happy to close his eyes, lay back, and relax as he listens to your heartbeat over the sound of the movie
sometimes you'll say something and he'll grunt in reply
but you both know that he has no idea what you said because he's in that perfect limbo of barely being awake and barely falling asleep
i mean he literally fantasizes about spending his days like that
alejandro vargas:
hm alright so alejandro would definitely rather have you on his chest than lay his head on yours
but also in the end his root motivation for everything is just making you happy so if you ask him to lay his head on your chest he will obey any day
i mean guys...
he is whipped for you let's be real
you say jump he says how high
he'll also never admit it or explicitly ask for it but he does love it when you play with his hair
especially when you curl it around your finger and tug on it a little
sometimes though if he's had a long day he'll come home and just lay his head down on your chest so he can listen to your heartbeat
usually he'll get up after a while so he can talk to you without his words being muffled by your chest
sometimes though he's too tired and he'll just straight pass out
still in his gear and everything
rodolfo "rudy" parra:
hehehehe rudy my favorite
all right guys im sure you already saw it coming but rudy definitely LOVES resting his head on your chest
like it is his preferred position for everything
he will outright ask you to lay down so he could go rest his head on your chest
and yes he will ask you to play with his hair too
and he will sing your praises when you do
this definitely started way early in the relationship so you've had lots of time to get used to it
and it's not like you can complain because even if it does get uncomfortable at times rudy is always sure to let you know how much he appreciates it
i mean it just lets him actually sleep well for once
like as soon as his head is on your chest he is passed out
snoring quietly and drooling ever so slightly
and you know when he wakes up he's gonna have those red indent marks on his skin lol
but all jokes aside it really is his favorite thing like if he could he would record the sound of your heartbeat and play it back during missions
and also when he's on duty and has to sleep alone he definitely props up some pillows and tries to pretend it's you
it's not as good as you though
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Competition: knight!price x princess!reader
I have to thank @konig-is-bbygrl for helping me come up with the idea for this part. Thank you love!!
Price was used to being around nobles and royals.
It was his entire life, especially because he was tasked to be your personal bodyguard for nearly half his life now. He had gotten used to their delusions, to the fact that most of them are disconnected to the people they rule over, and their snobbish behavior.
What he was not used to was the fact that there were many people vying for your affection often, which meant he had to be around desperate lords and princes who made fools of themselves around you just to get you to look at them.
He cringed at their failed attempts to woo you. Their flowery words mean nothing, especially when many of them are throwing themselves at other ladies who are in their kingdom or towns when you inevitably turn them down.
He couldn’t quite understand why he found it so annoying. Maybe it was the fake devotion and empty gestures they gave that looked more like an insult to you, something he didn’t understand why you let happen, or maybe it was the fact that he knew you personally.
The lords and princes wouldn’t try for your hand if they knew who you were behind closed doors. They didn’t know who you were when he didn’t let you spend time by yourself or when you were forced to do your studies.
Or maybe, in his best judgment, they were so far beneath you that they didn’t deserve you at all. You were so much more than them, more elegant, too beautiful for them, they were not worthy as opposed to-
“You are awfully quiet, Sir John.” You spoke and brought him out of his thoughts.
Price grimaced as he spotted the flowers in your hands, no doubt from the current lords who were preparing for the jousting tournament.
An attempt by the Queen to find a proper suitor for you, something she has been adamant about doing as of late.
“What is there to say?” He grumbled and you raised an amused eyebrow.
“My, you are incredibly ornery this afternoon.” You teased and he sent you a sharp look. “Are you upset that you’re not down there?”
He glanced down from the raised platform you and the Queen sat upon above the tournament floor. Two lords were preparing, both of them too scrawny for this type of sport, too soft and not at all in their element.
It wouldn’t even be entertaining to watch.
“Why would I compete for your hand, your highness?” He wondered. “I’m already bound to you by oath and know the unfortunate fate of that.”
“The lords wouldn’t say the same.” You shot back and he watched them mount their horses.
“I’m not inclined to believe anything that falls out of their mouths.”
The lords were quick in the competition. To anyone else, their fancy swings were entertaining but to Price they were unpracticed.
He glanced at you to see if you were entertained and noticed the boredom in your eyes. He hid his smile, knowing that if it were him or his men, you’d be entertained.
The lord that won bowed to the crowd and flaunted, earning a scowl from both you and the Queen. A bad look.
“Perfect for you, your highness.” Price teased and you sent him a look.
“He’s handsome, yes.” You ignored him and he looked at the lord.
Handsome was generous, he looked rather plain to Price.
The lord walked up to you, a prideful look on his face, and gave a gaudy bow. It took everything in Price to stop himself from rolling his eyes.
“Your highness, your majesty, I thank you for this opportunity.” He said as he stood up straighter. “If it’s too much to ask, I would be honored to join you for dinner.”
“Before that, perhaps you’d like to show your skills again for us.” The Queen spoke and his face fell. “To see you win against my best knight would surely make dinner worth it.”
Price stiffened up but said nothing. The lord looked nervous while you had an unreadable look on your face.
“As you wish, your majesty.” Price bowed and made his way towards the ring.
He missed the sickly sweet words that fell from the lord’s mouth, the near pleading eyes as he spoke to you and the way you tensed up at the lack of preparation for someone so pushy.
However, he didn’t miss you giving the lord your handkerchief, of all things, as he grabbed the lance.
A spike of anger he didn’t understand rushed through him. You showed no signs of wanting the lord yet you gave him something of yours? Did you despise Price that much? Did you want him to lose that bad?
Price wasn’t one to gloat, in fact he hated it and would much rather let his skills show through action, but anyone knew that he could beat the lord easily without much straining.
You knew that too and yet you gave the pompous, worthless man your attention as if he deserved it.
Price kept his composure and didn’t break a sweat at defeating the lord almost instantly. He didn’t pay attention to the roars of cheers from everyone, especially from his own men, or the cries from the lord as he laid haunches over on the dirt.
Instead his attention was on you. He’s not sure what he expected from you but the looked of horror on your face wounded his pride a little more than he wanted.
It didn’t matter. The lord wouldn’t have your hand.
Price made his way back to you and you wasted no time in arguing with him.
“Were you trying to kill him?” You exclaimed and he raised an eyebrow.
“I was light on him. He couldn’t handle it because of who he is.” He argued and you stared at him in shock.
It was the truth. If he had been against any of his men they would’ve laughed at him for that type of treatment.
Just another testament of how the lord wasn’t a good fit and that you had made a mistake to give him something of yours.
“You should be happy. A princess who’s loose with her affections shouldn’t be vied for.” He spat and watched you glare at him in disbelief.
“You’re barbaric, someone as cruel as you should never win someone’s hand.” You curled your hands into fists and he huffed.
“It was Her Majesty who wished for me to compete, I have no desire to win you over.”
You opened your mouth to argue more before the Queen approached you both. In an instant, you both composed yourselves as best as you could, though neither do you could hide the anger you had for each other.
The Queen ignored it in favor of giving Price an approving look.
“Sir John, an excellent performance.” She complimented and he gave her a polite nod. She turned to you. “You’ll be fine without him for a few moments while I discuss the lords with you?”
“Happily.” You said from behind your teeth.
“Thank you, your majesty.” He bowed and watched you walk away with your mother.
Was he cruel? He wouldn’t say he was and yet that seemed to be all you saw him as.
He didn’t like the way that made his stomach churn.
A/n: jealous price anyone? didn’t mean to make this as long as it was oops lol
@deadbranch @makayla-666
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starry-hughes · 5 months
Text
secret santa (jack hughes)
day 17 of star’s ficmas
jack hughes x reader
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Jack Hughes tolerated you. He didn’t like you, he didn’t hate you, he tolerated you. You worked in the Devils organization, working as an analyst behind the scenes, meaning you were always around. You’d be in your office, analyzing the game from the night before or practice.
You weren’t exactly sure why Jack didn’t like you. Maybe you made too many suggestions to his game or got him in trouble which forced him to work on faceoffs more. You got along pretty well with everyone else, why not him?
The Secret Santa Tradition was always fun, you looked forward to it every year. You’d appreciate any gift really, no matter how big or small it was. You had pulled Jack. You were excited, hoping this was the chance for Jack to like you. You had given him the gift early, leaving it in his stall, half of the items on his list were bought. But, now it was the last day of the Secret Santa and you tried not to be sad that you hadn’t received your gift.
Jack had drawn your name. He was hoping for one of the other boys, but he got you. He knew who you were. Jack walked by your office every day, seeing you hunched over your laptop, sometimes he’d see you by the bench, or in team meetings. You were smart and he knew it. He actually thought you were really smart and pretty, but he had made a bad impression on you.
He didn’t know what to get you, staring your list of items you suggested, looking at what you like. He wished he didn’t participate. He saw your office decorated for Christmas and could just assume you liked the holiday. Jack picked the smallest item from the list.
The present was thrown into a gift bag and left on your desk. You saw your coworkers getting big gifts and nice things, and the keychain you asked for stared back at you. You blamed yourself for even putting the item on the list but you didn’t want to seem like you were expecting a big gift.
“Dude, my Secret Santa got me this nice blanket,” Erik said. “I got mine a keychain.”
Jack suddenly had the whole locker room staring at him. “You got them just a keychain?” Dawson asked. “It was on their list!”
“Who’d you even gift?” John asked. “(Y/N).”
“You’re a dick,” Nico scoffed. Jack’s eyebrows furrowed together. “What did I do?” Jack questioned. “What did your Secret Santa get you?” Luke asked him. “Like four things off my list…”
At the end of the day, you shoved your stuff into your bag. It was hard to not be upset over the small keychain you were given. But you had tried so hard to be in the holiday spirit, buying everyone hot chocolate, decorating your office, offering to do extra work so other people could spend time with their families. And you got a keychain.
You began the walk to your car, when you were stopped by Jack. “Hey, (Y/N), you got a second?” Jack was just going to apologize, make amends. “I was your Secret Santa, and it was a bad gift I guess,” Jack confessed. The guys had all convinced him to apologize. “It’s fine Jack. I put the keychain on the list, I didn’t want anyone to be forced to buy me something special, I appreciate it,” you blurted. Jack frowned, “I’m sorry.”
You shrugged. “I just,” you sucked in a breath, “I don’t know if I did something to upset you or anything, I put the keychain on my list, I got what I asked for I guess.” Jack felt bad.
“I gotta go Jack. By the way, I hope you liked all your gifts. Surprise, I was your Secret Santa,” you sighed before walking away.
Jack felt like a dick. He remembered how excited he was for getting his own gift, knowing how much his teammates spent on the gift game, he was an absolute jerk. You deserved more than that.
The next day, your office was empty and Jack had brought a bunch of gifts and left them on your desk. The day after that, you were out again. He was thinking it was because of him until you walked in on the third day. Jack finally didn’t have to throw away the extra coffee he bought. “(Y/N), here,” he greeted. “What’s this for?” you whispered. “I’m trying to make it up to you?”
“It’s fine, it was just Secret Santa. Your gift to me is useful, I haven't lost my keys in two days,” you joked. You went to open your office door. Your eyes landed on all the presents. “Jack, I didn’t need these. I’m okay.”
“A date then. To make it up.”
You looked at him, “Really? A date, just to make it up?”
“I don’t hate you, I just don’t know how to act around you. I want to impress you. I’m sorry. Just one date, a Christmas present?”
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Text
Inspired by the fanfiction link above; kind of an aftermath scenario. I love the idea of Wayne being extra protective of Steve after Steve saved Eddie's life, and getting even more protective of him after he and Eddie start dating. What can I say, I'm a Wayne Munson simp. Also, while I might not have a lot of respect for him anymore, see if you can find the John Mulaney quote I slipped in here! @artiststarme I hope you like it!
Finally Protected
Wayne Munson was a lot of things. A salty grump, a loner, an uncle, a father.
But most of all, he was loyal.
Once someone earned his loyalty, it lasted for life. He would stick with them through thick and thin, and defend them against anyone. And against all odds, Steve Harrington had earned his loyalty.
Anyone with eyes could see that Steve was head over heels in love with Wayne's boy. Which was why he could not comprehend why it was Steve who was on the receiving end of all these goddamn shovel talks.
Found family, my ass, he thought to himself. Even that Buckley girl had given Steve a talk. Were they all stupid? They'd known Steve, really known him, for much longer than Wayne or Eddie had. How could they still think that Steve would hurt anyone, much less Eddie?
The worst thing about it was, Wayne knew that Steve would forgive them. It didn't matter how many times the Party hurt him, Steve would just shrug it off, like his feelings didn't matter. And considering Steve had already earned the loyalty of the Munsons, Wayne had a problem with that.
A big problem.
The day after Eddie apologized and the two boys made up, Wayne dropped by to talk to Steve. Even as he settled on the couch in the living room, he could see the tension in Steve's shoulders.
"You can relax, kiddo," he said. "I'm not mad at ya. Not here to give you another goddamn shovel talk, either."
Steve's eyebrows rose. "Really?"
Wayne nodded. "Eddie's an adult now, and he knows how to take care of himself. No, I'm here to talk about the rest of the Party."
Steve looked confused. "What do you mean?"
Wayne sighed. "Boy, you need to set some boundaries with these people."
"Boundaries?"
"Steve, I know this ain't the first time these folks have hurt you. Lord knows Eddie has gone on many rants about how the kids keep calling you an idiot, or how the Wheeler girl cheated on you after 'she ripped your heart out of your chest and stomped on it.' Eddie's words, by the way."
Steve looked uncomfortable, now. "Well, the kids are just messing around. And I shouldn't have tried to hold on to Nancy the way I did."
"The kids are old enough now to learn how to mess around without being disrespectful. And Nancy should have been honest with you instead of leading you on," Wayne countered.
Steve still looked apprehensive. Wayne sighed (again-he'd been doing that a lot lately).
"Look, Steve, I'm not saying you have to cut them out of your life. I know that'd be devastating for ya. But just letting them hurt you, and not saying a word about it... You deserve better than that."
Steve's eyes misted over. "No, I don't," he choked out. When Wayne opened his mouth to protest, the kid shook his head rapidly. "You don't understand, Mr. Munson, I was a really bad person in high school. The things I said about people... I'd tear them down without a second thought. I-"
Sensing that Steve was about to go on a self deprecating tangent, Wayne cut him off.
"Did you know that Eddie used to rant about you?"
This seemed to startle the kid. "Um... What?"
Wayne chuckled. "Yeah, I won't go into details, but he was very vocal about how much you bugged him... But then, out of nowhere, in 1984, he stopped. I asked him why, because I was curious. Do you know what he said?"
Steve gulped. "What?"
"He said, and I quote, 'he hasn't actually been an asshole in a while, and now that everyone else is trying to kick him down, I don't want to contribute to that.' You made a change, Steve. Not many people are willing to do that. Hell, most ain't even willing to believe that there's something wrong with em. But you were. I'll keep telling you, as many times as I have to for it to sink in. You don't deserve to be hurt."
The tears Steve had been holding back this whole time finally seemed to overwhelm him. Wayne scooched over to him and wrapped him in a hug.
"You've had to be strong for so long, kid. Let me look after you, yeah? Lord knows you deserve protection just as much as Eddie does."
Steve didn't answer, but he nodded. That was enough for now.
--0--
Wayne had been pacing around Steve's living room for about ten minutes when he finally heard the doorbell ring. It would appear that this group traveled as a pack, because every single member of the party was there.
That is, every member but two.
"Mr. Munson?" Dustin asked confusedly. "What's going on? Where's Steve?"
Wayne grunted. "All of ya just come in. I'll explain once you get settled. And I'm sayin this now, I expect you all to listen."
When everyone was sitting around the living room, Hopper was the first to speak up. "So Wayne, what's going on? Where's the kid?"
Wayne scowled. "If you mean Steve, he's at my trailer with Eddie. If that were big enough, we'd be there instead, but there's too many of you, and I need you all to hear this."
The Buckley girl looked extremely confused. "Why would you want us here if Steve isn't?"
Wayne took a deep breath in an attempt to control his anger. "Because it would seem to me that you lot forget just how much that boy does for all of you."
Joyce furrowed her brow. "Um... What?"
"You folks got a lot of nerve, acting like Steve is the one who's gonna hurt Eddie. He ain't a ticking time bomb, and you gotta stop treating him like it. After everything he's done for you lot, it astounds me how you can still treat him like crap. Found family, my ass."
Nancy Wheeler opened her mouth with an angry expression, but Wayne cut her off. "Don't go acting so high and mighty, Wheeler. Did you even realize that Steve still flinches when anyone uses the word bullshit? You tore his heart out of his chest and stomped on it, and then slept with another guy before you even broke up with Steve properly."
That seemed to shut her up. Good.
"And as for you kids, how many times has Steve taken a beating for you? The only ones that I've seen being respectful to him are Will and El. The rest of you... You've all been the victims of bullies, according to Steve. So explain to me, how in the hell can you justify the way you all treat him on a daily basis? Insulting his intelligence, bossing him around, disregarding the work he's done to change, all of that has to stop."
The kids tried to protest, but Wayne was on a roll. He rounded on Joyce, Hopper, and Robin. "Hopper, Joyce, Eddie is my kid. He ain't your responsibility. You had no right to give Steve that goddamn shovel talk as if he were still the guy he was in high school. And you, Miss Buckley? You call yourself Steve's best friend. You might wanna try acting like it.
"Now, I know that Steve sees you all as family. That's the only reason I ain't told him to cut you folks out of his life. But Steve has got no standard for how he should be treated as a human being. Whether you lot realize it or not, you've all taken advantage of that. He thinks that he deserves it, but I've seen the effort he makes every day to be better than he was. Most won't even accept that they need to be better, and it would seem that you folks are a part of that majority. I know that he deserves better, and I ain't even known him a whole year. That says something about you, don't it?
"Now, you are going to give Steve as much space as he needs. You won't ask him to babysit, you won't ask him to chauffeur you around, you won't ask him for money. You'll take some time to think about how you've treated him. And when you feel you're ready to apologize-not because of guilt or obligation, but because you mean it-you tell me. I'll let Steve know. But only when Steve is ready to see you all again, and not a second more, will I let you talk to him."
Wayne shared a vicious smile with El and Will, and then looked at the rest of them with a raised eyebrow.
"Now get the hell out of my future son-in-law's house."
Fin
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yandere-kokeshi · 5 months
Text
— His stress reliever
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Pairing || yandere John Price x gn reader
Summary || being Captain's favorite soldier has its cons, one being that he wants to fuck you every chance he gets.
Warnings || Yandere behavior, talks about the reader having signs of PTSD, dub-con, possessiveness, oral (Price received), drugging (by syringe), spit used as lube, abuse of authority, slight choking kink. Also talks about readers wearing boxers (Who wouldn't? They are comfy af).
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You swallowed thickly, hovering your knuckle over the door before knocking gently. “You wanted to see me, Captain?” you say through the door.
You hear a grunt, before his chair squeaking; his thick voice speaking up, “Come in.” he calls back, and you try to still your hand as it reaches for the doorknob.
Every time he calls for you, you can’t predict what will happen. Sometimes he’s all work, no play, giving you assignments like he does the rest of the 141 with a straight face and serious look in his eyes.
Other reasons, it’s for less business. More fucking. He starts slowly, offering you a nice glass of scotch before making you suck his cock.
It wasn't anything you were used to; he used you like a fucktoy. Making sure to call you a cunt, his whore, and his Sargeant.
He cums down your throat within minutes, his come salty yet delicious. If he’s kind enough, he fucks all of your holes and leaves you filled. Eating you out before starting all over again.
You faked a cough as you pushed open the door, reminding yourself to keep calm. And as you came in, and shut the door, you quickly saw paperwork stacked on his desk; which, you, cursed at yourself.
You wish someone was here, but everyone had gone home. Missions had been kicking ass and everyone deserved a break.
Especially you. But you doubted you were going to get one any time soon.
“I really hope you aren’t banning me from training again,” you laugh out, pulling the cushioned chair out of his desk as you sat in it — Price leaning back in his own, cigar curled in mouth as his bucket hat is hung behind him.
He let out a dry laugh, “Nothin’ like that again, don’t worry.”
You watch him closely as he huffs the cigar out, quickly putting it out on the dish before getting up, and pouring himself a glass of scotch.
He, of course, grabs another glass, making sure to fill it high enough — then, he pushes the second-full one towards you. “How you holdin’ up?”
“Fine.” you reply, trying not to think too hard about the last few weeks. You bit your tongue, wanting to ask why you were here. But with his quiet and demanding demeanor, plus the sly share of his beloved alcohol, it was obvious what he was going to demand.
He raised his glass, giving you that certain look before you took after him and took a sip.
The burn of the scotch now going down your throat and your nervous state was making it worse than it should. His prying eyes kept you on the edge of your seat.
“Ya’ know,” he starts, “I’ve been missin’ you, darlin’.” he finishes meekly, his eyes traveling down to your unfinished glass, and your thighs before back up to your face. “Been avoiding me like the plague, did I do somethin’?” 
Your face gets hot, but you quickly think of an answer to his intense gaze. “Just been… busy, y’know?”
“Ah…” Price says, clicking his tongue. “Well, who’s been keepin’ you busy?” he inquires, eyes deepening with his question. “It certainly ain’t me– and whoever it is, you do understand the last time you tried going on a date, somethin’ bad did happen.”
You cleared your throat at his calm threat. And from the way he grunted at your reaction, realization struck you like a rod as he, the person you had to follow orders from, knew you were purposely ignoring him.
And, I mean, who wouldn’t? He’s a man of dignity. A man of strength, — your Captain, many men who looker up too, loves to abuse his power, always reminding that you owed him.
Price would constantly remind you that until you relented. It didn’t matter how close the two of you were, because, at the end of the day, he dangled your freedom over you.
Before you could say anything, he added on: “Besides, we both know what will happen if you go out of your orders I placed — right?”
Your throat feels dry. He was looking at you so closely. Like he could see through you, right to how fast your heart was beating. Or how he could see your thoughts in a cloud above your head, as clear and thick as the smoke in front of him.
You could only nod before finding the courage to speak up. An act of bravery and need of escaping pulling at your legs, making them bleed violently.
“Captain, I—”
“—It’s John,” he interrupted, heaving a heavy sigh.
You suck in a low breath at the sound of his first name. Your eyes nearly flutter shut. You nodded again, cursing yourself at the obedient behavior.
“Good.” he laughs, bringing the cigar back up to his mouth. You watch him intently, smoke curling and fogging in front of his face. Ash drops onto the desk, and his giant hands swipe it away quickly.
“So,” John starts, his hands resting on the table, “Are you gonna tell me what’s on your mind, or am I gonna find out the hard way?”
Goosebumps traveled from your spine up to your tongue, sizzling it shut with a steak; the never-ending screaming in your head.
“I—” you started, pausing with a sharp inhale, “...didn’t mean to ignore you,” you snapped, biting your lips as his eyebrow quirked. “I—I’ve been dealing with some... things.”
He grunts. An obvious noise of him asking you to continue on.
You turn your gaze to the floor. Fingers already making their way to your nails, picking at them. A habit you were trying to break. You pinched your nail, eyebrows creasing in shame before speaking.
“I’m just saying, Ca—John. Not meant as a jab at you or anything. But, I just wasn’t expecting company later in the day. I’m tired.”
He didn’t reply. The both of you sat in silence for a few seconds before he nodded; leaning back in his chair with a large squeak.
“Tired, yeah?” he hummed out, to which, your eyes nearly shut completely, feeling the warmth of his hand on yours.
His hand covers yours completely, thumb automatically starting to trace along your knuckles. They’re still covered from the fading bruises of the last mission, and he pays extra care not to press too hard.
His eyes stay on your touching hands, the rough pads of his fingers drawing aimless lines on your skin. “So, that’s all? Ya’ haven’t been getting enough sleep?”
“I haven’t.” You confessed quickly at his question. Your voice is hardly above a whisper.
You couldn’t sleep, not with the continuous night terrors. Waking up in a cold sweat. Tears fell as you gasped for air. Hiccups and the feeling of an elephant standing on top of your chest. It was terrible. Just like the man in front of you.
Yet, you somehow loved him. Craved his attention and praises like gold in a mine shaft.
“I can help if ya’ want. More than I can chalk up to just admiration,” he responds, his voice strained. Only then, when you finally look up at him, his pupils nearly overtake his eyes. “I want— need to help you the right way.”
You couldn’t get anything in, your mouth open and ready to say something; but he continued.
“I need you, love.” he immediately expresses, a gentle smile appearing before he leans back, taking a few more puffs of the cigar like a reflex. Something you knew too well.
You hum, “I assume you mean…” you trailed off, nodding your head at his obvious bulge in the rather tight pants. It looks like it hurt; probably does.
It wasn’t hard to ignore. Not with the way of his legs man-spread amongst his seat. How he was tilting his head at your adoring face, taking another drag of his cigar, making you watch his mouth intensely, letting your eyes linger with the dare of his confession.
“Well, can’t deny a confession to ya’ pretty body, now can I?”
He smirked darkly before standing up, rounding behind you as he pushed your chair back, clearing the distance around the table in two steps.
You knew what he wanted. The ways his eyes lingered too far down. How his hands automatically attached to your shoulders. How his black boots were still covered in thick dirt and mud, tracking footsteps all over the hard wooden floor, and you had a feeling he wouldn’t take them off anytime soon.
You follow him instinctively, getting up from your cushioned seat as his giant fingers trailed down to your hips; a grunt coming out of him as your hand glided over his clothed bulge.
“Get on ya’ knees, pretty thing.”
Dark eyes stared at you as you made it to your shaky knees, taking note on how he leaned his lower back on the table for support; forearm flexing on top of the desk, the sunset shining around him like a God.
You unzipped his pants, undoing the belt. Fingers working deftly as you pulled the cargo pants down. And within seconds, your face heats up — looking at the outline of his leaning cock inside the boxers, your hot breath making it throb.
His green boxers, which you’ve grown to know well, were stained with pre-cum, and the dark patches made you bite your tongue, — the outline of his cock was hypnotizing.
Already, your thighs were trembling and the flame in your sex was rising. A need of something. But yet, you had to treat the Captain first. He always cums first, no?
You dragged your fingers down the band of his boxers, before releasing his half-hard cock to the air. He let out a shaky groan, and leaned his head back.
“Fuck—”
His pants and boxers thudded against the floor, you licked your lips before your hands gripped his warmed and hairy, yet muscled thighs; breathing on his head before kissing his tip, which, his hand immediately flew to the back of your head as you wrapped your fist around the base of his cock.
Slowly, you started licking and tracing a finger on the underside of his cock.
He released a guttural moan and curved his fingers into your scalp. You started to pump your fist around his shaft as you swirled your wet muscle around his flushed tip.
You slip him deeper between your lips, feeling your cheek sucking the length that could fit in. It made him groan, already sensitive from the pent-up work earlier today. God, do you know what you do to him?
“Shit, yeah. Jus’ like that hun’.”
You felt him swell up in your mouth, the veins on his cock pulsing against your wet tongue and cheeks, — the salty, and thick taste of pre-cum staining inside of your mouth.
Bobbing your head back and down, you take him further down your throat, gagging. And that makes him curse, his British accent coming out as he gripped your head harder and deeper.
You moved your head faster, feeling drool slide out of the corners of your mouth whilst your hand worked on the part you couldn’t reach.
His stomach clenches rapidly, his groaning echoing throughout his office. “Fuck, what would I do without ya’, huh?”
Thick balls were slapping against your chin with every thrust. His unkept pubic-hair was itching your nose, but you couldn't say anything.
Not with your mouth stuffed with his cock.
Price begins to jerk his hips roughly in your face, repositioning himself to really start fucking you — which, sent his cock lodging down your throat. His desire crawling for more, exciting chills sending down his spine. You muffled a scream, the surprise when both of his large hands, who were originally on the table, were now supporting the side of your head, throwing your face back and forth in a ritual motion.
You choked, bubbling in the back of your throat as your hands started to grasp tighter around his thick thighs. Nails indenting and scratching for air. But he didn’t care. He kept going. He loved that he could see your spit dribbling down your chin, and cheek as well as smearing against his cock
Tears begin to roll down your face, and Price grunts loudly whilst he face-fucked you; his movements getting rougher and uneven, grip tightening around your head which made you focused on breathing through your nose.
“What a good sergeant, yeah - you so are.”
His thighs started to quake, getting tighter before his right hand removes itself, repositioning on supporting him on the desk behind him, and using the other hand to grasp the nape of your neck; throwing his head back while a harsh moan tumbles from his lips.
“Gonna blow—”
Hot strings of cum floods down, coating your tongue. You swallow, obediently listening to Captain rules. He keeps his hand on your neck, grasping some small pieces of your hair.
His groans were long, and deep. His blue eyes stare down at you, “Make sure ya’ swallow all it.”
You nodded, eyes watering more as you swallowed the rest. Before you know it, he lets go of you, and you gasp out; coughing lightly and rubbing the back of your neck as it hurts.
Unknowingly to you, your boxers were damp. Your crotch was flaming hot, and it was getting harder to ignore. But you couldn’t do anything. Not without his permission.
Both of you sat in silence. A sign of remembering and his torture.
“God,” he starts, his cock resting against the beefy abdomen of his. “You do too well,” He adds, as his head strains down to look at you before scrunching his eyebrows together at your massaged and uncomfortable state. “Did I hurt you, sweet’eart?”
You nodded, forcing a cough. Your throat hurt. But it didn’t matter. You delivered a lovely gift to Cap, didn’t you?
He noded with a slight frown, before leaning down to grasp your forearm — easily pulling you up as he helped you steady yourself, hands going on your hips as you regained center of gravity from the horror of a ride.
Price gripped your chin, forcing you to look up to him. And his eyes were predatory, flashed with lust. And you could tell he wasn’t satisfied nor finished.
“You did well, hun’,” he started, wiping away the leftover spit you didn’t get. “But, I’m still pretty hungry. So, hop on the desk, won’t ya?”
He left no room for questioning or begging to stop because when he said that, his hands immediately wrapped around your waist and lifted you up onto the desk despite your size. The added weight makes the desk squeak.
Price hummed in your ear, hands desperately yanking off your standard military T-shirt, and tactical pants. He threw them to the floor, as well as your boxers.
He chuckled, seeing your thighs trembling and smeared with your own slick. It was funny, really. Even though you say you despite him, look at you. A mess is what you are.
Starting gently, a surprise that came to you, Price kissed and sucked at your skin; hot breath blowing at your neck, ready to devour you at any given second.
“Ya’ drive me mad, love.” he states, giving your skin one last bite before mumbling into your skin to lay back — not caring that his papers will be damp by the end of this.
He removed the glasses of scotch and placed it on the floor; immediately driving his attention back to you and your soaked thighs.
“Le’s get you attention that you deserve, hm?”
You hesitantly nodded, and he frowns; his beard shining in the orange lightening of the dawn. “Don’t be like that, M’ promise I’ll be gentle.”
He unraveled his hand from your naked knee and spat in it; sliding your thighs apart and pushing you backwards until your legs popped with how far you’re spread.
He lubricated your hole, a finger entering despite your squeak that you erupted; which he smirked at. Price always enjoyed how loud you get after the first finger.
His other hand went to his cock, starting to jerk it off — redirecting it towards your hole.
You gasped, feeling it prod and tease you; coating himself in his spit, own pre-cum, and your own slickness before he lines his tip with your ready and awaiting entrance.
Price’s gentle but rough exterior came down, his giant hands rubbing your hip as he whispers within your ear, “I’ll go easy on ya. Jus’ this time, since you’re tired.”
Your breath hitches in your throat when without warning, he plunges his length deep within your cavern; the force of him has you jolt forward and sob out a cry.
A throaty groan escapes him as he feels your warm and tight hole accommodating his whole cock. He stills for a few seconds to appreciate how you feel around him.
“Shit, love, you feel incredible.”
He pulls out till only his tip is in you before he forces himself in again, doing so a few times to build up his strength. His hips snap against your chest in a rough rhythm; the sound of skin-on-skin echoes throughout the office, and your hands tightly pull on Price’s hips closer to meet his erratic thrusts.
“Fuck—!” you whine, leaning your head back on the edge of the desk.
And within a second, Price connects his lips onto yours — the kiss quickly turning into a sloppy one, as his thick tongue slips in and he starts to really fuck you into oblivion.
The desk starts to rattle, some of the containers and pens instantly falling to the floor as his hips brutally meets yours; your moans getting louder and louder as you felt your abdomen feel incredibly tight. A pit of lava landing on you as he kept fucking you.
It feels so good that it hurts, but still, you never want him to stop using you like he is now. Your eyes closed in bliss as Price has his way with you.
“Love it when ya’ captain fucks you raw? Huh?” he grunts, and you frankily nodded at his stern question. When did you not?
It’s wrong on so many levels for you to enjoy your Captain fucking you like this. But you can’t deny that you love every single second of it. Especially now, when nobody is around, and it’s just the two of you.
“—aptain—god!” you babble, feeling his large hand gently wrap around your throat and cup your pulse point, extending your head further as his teeth started to nick at your collarbone.
Usually, you’d whine. But you didn’t care. Not at this second.
“You’re mine, you’re fucking mine, ya’ here me?” his hips slap rapidly into your raw and sore hips as he utters those possessive words. “No one gets to touch— or treat you better. You got that?”
“Yes- Cap!”
He heaved, chucklng at your obediant behavior as he kissed your sweaty forehead; spreading your thighs even more apart as his large length penetrated you faster.
Your entire body was sizzling. Finegrtips and thighs zapping. And his tip brushing that spot has your whole body shudder in ecstasy. His fingers toying with your body, pulling at your nipples added to the sensations.
You felt your abdomen tighten and stomach bloom with pleasure; everything becoming too much. You struggled to get the words, his permision to cum with how he clutched your throat, bracing himself for his own release.
“Shit— gonna blow again, ya’ ready?” you nodded, hands tighetning around his forearm before a particular hard thrust hits that spot again, and you’re left screaming; your very own climax hitting you.
Cum — his cum — coats your puslating and tightening walls. Every of your nerves was shot, and you couldn’t help but moan silently. You can feel his hot liquid pulse, making its way down and making sure to coat every single area of red. It was addicting. So fucking addictive.
Your arms struggled to keep yourself upright on the desk as your body shook violently— eyes shut tight and tears threatening to come down your cheek at the intensity. No sound managed to escape you as Price still kept a firm hold on your pulse.
He groaned loudly, finally letting your throat go and you gasped loudly; air making its way back into your already defleated lungs.
“Sorry baby, didn’t notice hat’,” he grunts out, leaning down to be level with you.
he gently kissed your sweaty forehead, moving away some little pieces of air that were stuck, and kissed you on your monroe. You gently smiled, but forced a few coughs from discomfort.
“Tired?”
You nodded at him, and he only grumbled; hands already makingw ay to your raw thighs that are hurting.
“You lack nothing without me,” he states, and your heart banged out of your chest. Oh god, what did you do? “Good thing you belong to me, hm?” he hummed, ocean blue eyes turning into a deep blue sea — capturing you yet again in his boat, and taking you under his demand.
You hummed a quiet sound at him being so kind and gentle with you after having taken you like an animal only a few moments ago. But, you felt a slight prick on your neck; hand immedialty going to your neck, and seeing a droplet of blood. The fuck?
As you made eye contact with Price, your vision quickly got blurry — everything becoming slow and too much of a jumpstart to move. Your ears started ringing. And before you know it, it turned black and you fell back gently.
Of course, Price caught you. Ensuring that you’d awake comfortably and full.
He did say you were his, did he not?
Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!
© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 6 months
Text
Your Husband John "Soap" MacTavish
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To all you Soap lovers, this was fucking due after how much they did Soap wrong in Mw3.
I could really write something about those last two scenarios, I just can't promise you a happy ending AHAHA.
Taglist: @puff0o0,@katz-chow,@celestialhole.
(Mostly gender neutral Reader hcs)
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Your Husband John MacTavish who does everything in his power to protect you, he feels as if it's the one of the only things he can provide for you because you take care of him and he can't ask for anything more from you. You refuse to let him think that's it's the only thing he's good for and that he means everything to you.
Your Husband John MacTavish who loves like he means it, never ever failing to express how much he loves you in every way possible.
Your Husband John MacTavish who wipes your tears in the most gentle way possible even with his calloused hands.
Your Husband John MacTavish who doesn't realize it but stares at you like his life depends on it. You often find yourself patching up his injuries, straddling his lap while you do what you need to. You feel him run his hands through your hair, hoping to see more of your face while you look up at him and smile. Fuck, you looked amazing.
Your Husband John MacTavish who loves it when you rub his back, he pouts and give you puppy eyes whenever you two are in bed and you stop rubbing his back while you two cuddle.
"Bonnie..." John whines, burying his head further into your chest.
"What..?" You asked, almost laughing.
John let's out a soft grumbling noise before giving your backside a light smack.
You roll your eyes playfully and continue to rub his back and discontinue the teasing.
Your Husband John MacTavish who shows his love mostly through praises and serving you. This man will NOT let you lift a finger most of the time, he thinks that it's enough alone that you take care of him and that he wants to repay that. He still of course appreciate that you do these things however more often than not he'll be the one pushing the cart while you two are shopping for groceries. No buts, he'll be the one to carry them and bring them inside the house.
Your Husband John MacTavish who will continue to support you with whatever you choose, whether that'd be a job and career or to be a stay-at-home spouse. Which honestly he thinks you deserve to be spoiled and pampered no matter what.
Your Husband John MacTavish who keeps a photo of you in the breast pocket of his tactical gear, he makes sure he never loses it. You were the one who suggested to him to keep it with him while he's deployed. It's been with him for so long that it's a bit worn down, the seems of folds being visible and the date and note written at the back with the ink of a pen being a little smudged and chunky looking.
"I miss you bonnie" John whispered, talking to the photo...
John smiles, flipping the photo over to see the note you wrote almost 6 years ago.
"I love you Johnny, I'll wait for you, no matter how long it takes. I'll be here till the end <3"
"I promise, I will come home soon bonnie, just you wait.." The sergeant says before kissing the picture and folding it back up to keep it. He knows to himself that if it goes down to it, he'll crawl home to you...
Your Husband John MacTavish who always and I mean always keeps his promise no matter what happens, he keeps his word..
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What kinks/fetishes Saw character would have
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Warning : minors don't interact/read, smut/kinks, they all have a female partner
Characters : Mark Hoffman, Lawrence Gordon, Adam Stanheight, Amanda Young, Peter Strahm, Eric Matthews
Info : Again something for Saw and what can I say exept. Have fun reading like I had my fun writting it ;)
masterlist
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Mark Hoffmann
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Degradation = He would love to degrade his partner in a game for small mistakes or when she teases him at work. The way his knuckles turn white when he imagines what he would do. As soon as they are alone and he takes her, whispering in her ear in a harsh voice and reproaching her for what she has done wrong. Knowing that with every word she tightens around his cock and wants more
°,,Did I fuck you stupid? That's what happens when you want the attention of all men...a slut gets what she deserves"
Gun Play = He had tried it with prostitutes but they were all unwilling, unlike his partner who couldn't get enough of the adrenaline. The way the cold metal moved over her body and he drew in his breath sharply when he was sent a video of her fucking herself with his gun unlocked. He loved it when she let her tongue glide over the dark metal before he pressed her onto the knees in front of him.
°,,Show me how much you want my cock sweetie"
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Lawrence Gordon
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Medical play = A relationship between a doctor and his nurse a fantasy and a game that Lawrence and his partner had realized. Whether directly in the hospital in storage rooms or in longer sessions at home or in hotels. He loved it when she whimpered, he performed a routine examination on her and loved to stand over her.
°,,Spread your legs wider for me sweetheart would you?
Oral = More of a position than anything else but since he had lost his foot and his movements were choppy, especially at the beginning, it was almost painful which made sex more complicated. Which is why oral satisfaction became almost a daily thing for him and his partner. He loved it when she knelt in front of him, they kissed beforehand and she let her hands wander over his sore flesh before she opened his pants. In return, he lifted her onto his desk and, like the doctor he was, took care of his patients.
°,,Let me comfort you since you spoil me like this let me pleasure you"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Adam Stanheight
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Photography = He would love to take photos and videos of you with or without her consent. He would snap and record intimate moments when she was changing her clothes, in the shower or when he was having sex with her. Watching her fall apart around him, her tear-stained face or her fingers wrapped around his cock and taking pictures of the blush on his cheeks. He loved looking at the photos of her developing at the end, praising her and running his fingers over her body. While she snuggled up to him and praised him before they both ended up in a mountain of photos and he took them.
°,,Fuck look at this next time I'll make a whole collage baby"
Teasing = Initially not wanting to admit how much he likes it, Adam gets all the more whiny and whimpering when his partner teases him. Be it during the day with pictures, her extra short skirt or her hand on his body. At the end of the day, he would press himself against her and ask her permission why she was teasing him like that before directing him to bed, but he would only become more of a babbling, whining, pleading wrag.
°,,Ah-please-please baby finally touch me I'll do anything just please"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Amanda Young
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°Pain Play = She is a recovering and former junkie. She had suffered a lot of pain in her life and with John's teachings something had changed in the way she felt. It seemed like the pain she could finally inflict on others was getting better and better. Which is why she was careful with her partner to a certain extent, of course, but when she drew the knife or the hoe across her loved one's skin and heard the sound of it was her favorite. When she could run her fingers over the wounds and spread the blood on her girlfriend's body or try it herself.
°,,Shhh I know you can do a little more my love"
Leather = The feeling of leather shackles, panties, tops, pants, etc. She likes how it feels even better to wear it herself and to see it on her partner. It always seemed to be a big part of her life and she wouldn't give that up now. Instead, she went on several shopping trips with her sweetheart to buy the perfect outfits. To try them on in front of each other and make a strip show out of it.
°,,Look at you my beautiful girlfriend"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Peter Strahm
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Handcuffs = One thing he does bring home from his job are handcuffs. He loves to tie you to the bed with them. to see how you try to get loose while he takes you and can't do it. Tying your hands behind your back while you ride him and he holds you by your hips. Then kisses your maltreated wrists lovingly and tells you how good you were.
°,,Only bad girls get tied to the bed...but you're my good girl aren't you?"
Humping = He would love to have you on his lap after a long day's work and watch you whimpering against him. Giving you gentle kisses and playing with the strands of your hair - his big rough hands on your hips, directing you sweetly and painfully. Before he turns to you in praise after you have almost come crying and he takes care of you completely.
°,,That's it just a little bit more so it's good darling"
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Eric Matthews
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Daddy kink = He didn't have a son for nothing, didn't become so bossy for nothing and didn't become a cop for nothing. It gives him a sense of power and excitement to hear his darling call him that. At first it's just fun flirting, but as soon as the door to the bedroom closes, it's just the two of them.
°,,You'll be good for daddy, won't you? You will, sugar, I know it"
Praise kink = He wants to hear how good he is and he needs to hear how good he is. Whether it's small gestures, the moans of his loved ones or whole sentences. Eric loves it when he knows that he is good for his sweetie, that he is doing everything right and it only makes him even more energized and proud when she praises him.
°,,How good am I? One more and I'm all yours"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
@slut4hoffman , @thatonebeetchthatisirrelevant , @lola-max-sugar @megustadilf , @capan-deveraux2 , @horrorxgorewhore
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adnauseum11 · 3 months
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Joint Task Force (John Price x Reader)
You're harbouring guilt and John makes you feel better.
It's still Valentine's Day here, and thus it seems like the correct time to post this. It is mostly smut, heavy dose of fluff.
longer than normal 2.3k words
CW: swearing, explicit sex
feedback welcome!
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You aren’t proud of it, but John’s illness the other night scared you. You’re not as quick to needle him and more annoyed than usual when your friends have a go at him during Trivia night. John has a thick skin and manages to laugh it off better than you do, but your touchiness doesn’t go unnoticed. You have to work in the morning and John’s promised to drive you if you want to spend the night. You do, but you’re realizing now it was a trap.
“What was going on with you and your girls tonight? They do something to piss you off?” He’s asking you, blocking the only exit from the bathroom as he casually leans against the doorjamb. You turn wide eyes at him, slowing your brushing motions to spit into the sink. John has got you pinned with his deadly blue eyes, watching for clues.
“What do you mean?” You feign cluelessness.
“Love, you can pull that innocent and clueless bit on just about anybody else. What’s really going on? You don’t normally row with those two.”
You drop the act and pout for a moment before rinsing your mouth. When you’re finished you turn to face him, fisting your hands on your hips.
“I just didn’t like the way they were talking to you. You’re not an idiot just because you don’t have a Masters’ degree. They were being catty bitches.” You sniff, trying to be flip about it but anger bleeding into your tone all the same.
“Try again.” John extends an arm, catching your wrist and using it to reel you in to him, using his bigger body to keep you corralled in the bathroom. He’s clearly not buying what you are selling and knows you too well to turn you loose.
“Well, fine, maybe I should be a little nicer to you, too.” You snap and then press your lips together in frustration, knowing you’ve given yourself away and contradicted yourself with your delivery all in the same breath. Brilliant.
“This about the migraine the other night? I told you, I’m alright, love.” John’s soothing, but you’re still guilt wracked. You feel like an idiot, constantly figuring things out too late. The realization he’s been suffering alone was like ice water to your consciousness. Saying that out loud means admitting to being a shit friend, which means John deserves better. You’ve been spiralling internally for days.
John’s massaging up your arm, having worked out the quickest way to defuse you is to override your nervous system. It’s hard to stay anxious when your methodically being turned into jelly. His sharp blue eyes stay on your face though. It’s like he can sense there’s something else circling underneath your bluster and concern. When he gets to your shoulder he steps back, steering you out of the bathroom and over to bed. You let him, his warm, mollifying touch turning your energy from frenetic to something more malleable.
He's got you spread out on your belly on his bed before you can think of a reason to resist him, his big hands smoothing under the tank top you wear to bed, pressing into tight muscles with practised swipes. There’s an epic battle going on between the anxious tension locked into your muscles and John’s determination to figure out what you’re stewing over.
If there’s one thing John knows how to do, it’s extract answers from people that aren’t eager to give them up. He complains gently about your tank top getting in the way, that he could do this better if he could move more freely. You’re just on this side of ‘too relaxed to care’ by now and oblige him, letting him help you remove it over your head. He doubles down, long slow strokes pressing you into the mattress firmly, forcing little groans out of your lungs. You can vaguely hear him hum in satisfaction; your mind completely focused on his hands.
“Why do you think you need to be nicer to me? I think you’re pretty nice as it is darling.” John presses the issue, not stopping in his work, using the heels of his palms over your lower back. You can hear the smile in his voice and know instantly he’s thinking of the times you’ve put your mouth and hands all over him. You wonder if the flush that’s taking over your face and chest extends to your back and if John can see.
“Do you get migraines often?” You ask instead of answering and John is quiet for a moment. Your brain drifts as his hands seek out the knots along your spine.
“My nerves get confused sometimes. Been around a lot of explosions and gunfire, must have rattled something loose. Not usually as bad as it was the other day.” He jokes gently but he’s being truthful, giving you the answer you’re actually looking for.
“I hate that I didn’t... I didn’t even consider that, John.” You admit to the mattress, completely unable to even partially face him while you force the words past your lips. John’s silent but his hands continue to move, sparking hope that maybe he doesn’t agree with your internal assessment that you are, in fact, an awful selfish person.
You don’t even think when he hooks his fingers in the thick elastic of your sleep shorts, lifting your hips for him automatically as he shimmies them down. His strong hands grip your thigh, running his thumbs up the middle of your hamstring. You’re moaning before you can stop yourself, loud in the quiet of the room. The sensation of his thumbs pressing down firmly on the big muscle enough to make you weep.
“Like that, do you?” You can hear the smile in John’s voice again and he repeats the motion to the same effect.
“My god, that should be illegal.” You manage to slur out and John chuckles, switching to your other thigh. He makes his way down to your ankles and then back up before responding to you. He’s got handfuls of your ass before you know what’s happening.
“This should be illegal. I want a medal for managing to hold a conversation with this to contend with.”
You finally laugh, letting him break your sour mood. Your muscles are so relaxed they feel weighted but you feel lighter inside somehow, your affection for the man pinning you to the mattress only ever growing. When he rolls you onto your back, you’re too suffused with relaxed pleasure to feel self-conscious about being naked with the exception of a pair of panties.
You can see the warm smile stretched across John’s face, making his blue eyes twinkle. It’s reassuring, his solid warmth pinning you down. He leans over you, balancing his weight on an elbow by your head, bracketing you under him before he kisses you. The taste of him is familiar to you now, and a thread of desire begins to spool tighter, low in your belly. You suck on his tongue when he swipes it between your lips, garnering a groan from somewhere deep in his chest. His teeth rasp lightly over your bottom lip, making sparks fly at the back of your scalp and behind your eyelids. He breaks the kiss but only to continue to press kisses over your jaw, nuzzling at your sensitive earlobe before sucking on it gently.
John’s lips are hot, anchoring you in place as he explores down the sweep of your neck. His whiskers drag across your delicate skin, sending shivers down your spine and directly to your pussy. It makes all thought impossible, words nearly beyond your reach. Your fingers find his biceps, the hot press of his mouth dizzying.
John misreads your grip on his arms and pauses, looking down at you.
“Want me to stop?”
“What? No, don’t you dare.” Your breathy voice has a pleading quality that galvanises him, teeth rasping over your pulse point before swirling his hot tongue over the same spot. He’s shifting overtop of you, resting more of his weight on you. His hips snug against yours, his erection slotting against you like a hot brand. You’re suddenly desperate for movement, friction, and hook a leg over his hip, arching against his solid body. John won’t be rushed but knows what you want, and rolls his hips against yours in appeasement. The flash of pleasure stutters your mind and you moan, your leg tightening around his hip.
John’s palm settles on your breast, squeezing the soft flesh with tenderness, the hunger on his face at odds with his touch. Your fingers curl into his shirt, tugging it up and he obeys immediately, leaning back to tug it up between his shoulder blades and toss it. His hand resumes its exploration, his thumb circling your nipple as his hips rock, grinding against you. You’re certain he must be able to feel how wet he’s making you, the fabric trapped between your bodies damp beyond measure.
He bends, wrapping his mouth around the tight bud of your nipple, making you arch, desperate to get closer to the pull of his lips. Your fingers find their way to his hair, gripping the short strands as he groans his approval.
John’s hand has slid down your body and is tugging your panties down, leaning back to guide your leg down off his hip while he strips the last stitch of clothing from your body. You have to release him to let him work and you do so with a whimper, dropping your hands down over the hard planes of his body. You can only wonder at what John sees – flushed cheeks and wild hair, legs spread and eyes glassy with desire in the semi-darkness.
“Alright, love?” John asks, leaning over you to plant another searing kiss on your lips, returning to his place between your legs. You can feel him leaning, hear his bedside drawer and realize he’s getting a condom.
“Can I?” You ask breathlessly and if John’s surprised, he hides it well, the expression on his face pure mischievousness.
“Not if you want this to last more than a minute.”
Leave it to John to be sarcastic while he’s hard as a rock, with your legs wrapped around him.
He’s propped himself up on an elbow, the other hand wrapped around the base of his cock to guide himself into your body. The blunt head of his cock sinks in and you can’t help the answering moan that sounds suspiciously like his name. John curses, his hips flexing as he slides home, your head tossing on his pillows.
“Fuck me, you are gorgeous.” John groans, pressing his face into your throat, setting a steady pace with his hips as he moves over top you. Your fingers dig into the back of his shoulders, gripping his big muscles as he strokes into you, again and again. You can feel the coil of tension tightening in your belly, each rocking thrust just grazing your clit.
“John” You gasp, and you want to tell him to move just slightly, want to tell him where you need his touch but when his blue eyes meet yours a wave of emotion closes off your throat, leaving you panting helplessly. He hitches your thigh over his hip, grinding into you, understanding somehow anyways, making you moan wantonly. The sounds of your pleasure only drive him on, the slap of skin a counterpoint. Your hands slip off his shoulders, the heat between you making you both sweaty. Your nails rake down his side, tearing a groan out of his chest.
He shifts again, leaning back to slip his arm under your leg that isn’t hitched over his hip. The back of your knee slides into the crook of his elbow and the change in angle is enough to nudge you to the edge of orgasm. Your eyes go wide as you feel your body respond to John’s thrusts, your inner muscles low in your abdomen fluttering on the precipice. You can’t help but call his name again, needy and high pitched. You slip your hand between your bodies, stroking your clit and drawing John’s gaze. It doesn’t take long for you to fall apart.
He hunches over you, his rhythm breaking as your entire body clenches around him, a wailing cry rattling out of your throat. John’s hips stutter as your body clutches at him, his thrusts turning shallow as his orgasm slams through him.
You spend the next few moments panting, John's forehead resting on your shoulder as he tries to catch his breath.
“Sorry sweetheart –“
His voice is ragged, rumbling against you.
“god John, why are you sorry for making me cum like that?” Your eyes are drifting shut, every muscle in your body feeling like lead after the massage and then orgasm. You are certain your brain is partially liquified.
“mm, was going to make it last longer.” He murmurs into your ear, making your back arch and your nipples tighten all over again. You force your eyes open to look at him and the tenderness on his face makes your throat close again.  
You make a small noise and grip at the thick muscles of his shoulders, which he seems to understand and kisses you repeatedly. He pulls out, disposing of the condom and brings you a water on his way back to the bed.
You haven’t found the energy to move an inch so John rolls you onto your side, spooning you tightly. You clutch at the arm he slings around you. Sleep drags you under, still tightly gripping John’s hand.
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xxkiller-muffinxx · 4 months
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You and me, Against the world
Floyd x reader (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)
Summary: once saved, Floyd can't help but still feel uneasy about losing you. It doesn't help that he's been thrusted back into reality surrounded by trolls who he doesn't exactly know, nor does it help that a mysterious figure in a black cloak is looking for something in town. His anxiety is through the roof, until a familiar face reappears.
Words: 1393
Warnings: just some slight angst.
A/N: this could've been better, but I just got too excited to share this one with you guys. Thank you all so much for your feedback! You guys make writing enjoyable! So please, enjoy this part! I cant wait to see you in the next story. Stay golden, and enjoy.
✦✧✦
Floyd looked out on the world as he thought deeply about everything that happened, he was safe. His brothers saved him. He should be happy, but something is holding him back.
He was so lost in thought that he couldn't hear footsteps approaching behind him. He closes his eyes and looks up at the sky, ignoring the sounds of a troll sitting beside him. He took a deep breath, smelling the refreshing air of the outdoors.
“Hey Floyd,” Branch said, leaning forward to look him in the eyes. “Everything alright with you?” he said while putting a hand on his shoulder. Floyd’s eyes opened and he looked at Branch. His eyes tired, and his smile deeply saddened.
“Yeah, yeah I'm okay.” Floyd’s feet swung over one another criss crossing his legs to feel a little more secure.
Branch raises an eyebrow and elbows him, “Come on. You can tell me.”
Floyd looks forward and then down at his hands. “You probably don't remember them, but there was this person back during our Band days. They were so sweet, and kind. Gentle. So much so that…” He stopped, capturing his breath back into his throat before he continued,
“They got trapped in the diamond prison with me, but…they didn't make it.” He brought his knees up to his chin. Sniffling slightly as the moments played through his head again, your exhausted face. Your laughter, your pain. He was tired of thinking about you, but he couldn't help it.
Branch looks up to where Floyd was looking beforehand and grimaces. How the hell is he supposed to comfort something like that? What angle does he go with? Poppy is usually good with comforting but she's with her sister right now and-
“I'm sorry, I'm burdening you,” Floyd said, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment.
Branch shook his head. “No no, I just…I want to say you can get through something like that but… it's easier said than done. They would want you to enjoy your freedom.” He said, placing a hand on Floyd’s shoulder once more.
Floyd glanced at him and smiled sadly. He took another deep breath. “Yeah. They would, wouldn't they.” He takes a deep breath and stands up with Branch. The two head home shoulder to shoulder.
✹✺✹✺✹✺✹
About a month had passed, and news about Brozone had spread like wildfire. Pretty much everyone knew about their adventure and Floyd’s tragic mistreatment, but no one knew about yours. That upset him the most,
You died, in that room, you were thrown out of a window. However, he couldn't bring himself to be mad. He knew you wouldn't like the attention anyway. Even then, he didn't care if he was in Brozone or you were, you both deserve equal recognition for what happened.
He woke up and brushed his teeth, patting himself down. He did his hair quickly and then walked to the exit to go outside. The branch must've already left. Along with Clay and John Dory. When he got outside he let his eyes adjust and immediately walked into town.
The sun basically screamed into the ground which hurt Floyd’s eyes. He walked until he found his usual spot and sat down, watching the world go by. He still has to get used to people again. Especially used to trusting people again.
His eyes wandered until catching the sight of a cloaked figure. Which was new for most of Pop Village, they seemed to be looking for something Floyd, out of his nervousness, reached for the closest troll. “Uh, hey-” He mumbled, causing the troll to turn around. It was Guy Diamond. “Do you know who that is?”
Guy Diamond looked in the direction Floyd was pointing and simply shrugged. Saying maybe it's someone new and it wouldn't hurt to introduce themselves. He then walked off to do just that. Floyd watched from the sidelines as the Glitter Troll made himself known.
Floyd’s attention fell out of pure secondhand embarrassment. Standing up and walking off to go sit down elsewhere. He sat down and took a breather, for some reason he felt like a kid again. Right after a concert when everyone's trying to talk to him but he doesn't want to talk to anyone else. He'd only make time for one person, and that one person’s gone.
He sighed and leaned into his seat, then suddenly he heard a voice. He didn't dare turn around, he liked imagining it was you. “Hey…you okay there?” this voice was quiet, raspy, almost as if they lost their voice. Floyd felt a shudder of deja vu run down his spine.
“Yeah yeah. I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,”
“You’re not sure.”
“Okay fine.”
Floyd flinched when a hand grazed his shoulder, and another troll sat beside him. A part of him was confused while another was genuinely frustrated that this person sounded so much like you. There was silence before the other troll spoke again.
“Talk to me Floyd.” The troll said. That woke Floyd up fast.
His head shot up to meet the face of his Companion. So familiar and yet so new. Something about how you looked took him back. Post show stuff and all that. His first instinct was to reach out and touch the troll's cheek to see if they were real.
“That’s a weird way of talking-” you snorted. His hand pressing into your cheek and you simultaneously leaning into it. “Hey there.” You said, squeezing his hand on your cheek.
“What? How? How did you- I watched you- you're here!” Floyd asked, his thumb caressing your cheek. Then almost in an instant his arms wrapped around your neck in a tight hug. So cozy that you ralax into his arms.
You laughed quietly, inhaling his scent into your nose. “Well, it’s a long and troubling story, but let’s just stay like this for a while okay? I need it.” You mumble into his shoulder, and when Floyd nodded you both took a deep breath together and let it out slowly.
The waves of weight on their shoulders now a distant memory. They were together again, nothing else mattered. As long as they were together it was okay. That’d usually be the end, but there’s something they’re forgetting to do.
After about 2 hours of just holding one another, they finally pull away. Floyd has tears in his eyes and you've probably cried too many times to cry now. You’re very dehydrated. Floyd wipes his eyes and looks at your cloak.
He pulls on it to look at it some more. “You were the new troll in town? You were looking for something? Did you find it?” He asked, raising an eyebrow and smiled once your eyes made eye contact. “Did you meet Guy diamond?” he’d lightly chuckle.
“I was looking for you! And yeah he was really nice. He did introduce me to anyone he could, which is why I knew you were here. Because Branch was here. Speaking of which he was also looking for you and-“
Your words turned into ringing as Floyd stared into your eyes, you were real. Rambling the way you used to, your eyebrows furrowed as you kept remembering things. Your hands move every now and then to display your point. Then by the time you snapped out of it, Floyd’s face was super close to yours.
“Woah- you okay?” You wound up asking, your cheeks flushed to the nines. Floyd shook his head and leaned back.
“Sorry. I just uh- I just- I missed you.” He said, looking down. You pull his face back up to meet yours. He looks between your eyes then your lips, his cheeks matching yours. “Uh…can I…can I kiss you?” He asks nervously.
You’re taken off guard by this, then you look at his lips. You're on autopilot when your lips meet his. You hold eachother like that for a while then pull away. “Does that answer your question?” You smile slightly then hug him tight. “Thank you.”
Floyd’s eyes are wide and his cheeks are red. He hugs you back. Then in a fit of emotional breakthrough he mumbles “I love you.” He said with a smile, and then in response you say.
“I love you too.” You pull apart, pressing your forehead against his. “It’s you and me.”
“Against the world.”
❀✿❀✿End❀✿❀✿❀
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