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love-bitesx · 10 months

Note

I loveeeedd the last story Tysm ❤️❤️❤️ Keep up the amazing work 🌈

I have another request

Hobie x fem spider reader

Reader has a weird stalker ex-bf, and the reader tries to keep it a secret from Hobie but he finds out and deals with the ex.

: ̗̀➛ STALKER. hobie brown x fem!reader

any criminal minds fans out there … i hope u see the parallels of my baby spencer also i'm so sorry, i didn't see until after i wrote this entire thing that you said 'fem spider reader' so it's a fem normal reader, so sorry! i hope it's still okay, tho!! thank u sm for ur support angel !! summary: hobie & y/n have been doing long distance for months, but she never told him exactly why. words: 2.8k (the words just kept coming, sorry its so long lmao) warnings: fem!reader, pronouns not really used but "my girl", "lady", etc. are, read at your own risk! weird stalker bf, creepy fella, hobie n y/n are long distance, very very soft hobie

“when can i call you next, darlin’?” hobie’s voice was laced with longing, bass distorted by static at the other end of the phone.

“if you’re quick, we can call tomorrow after 5,” you smiled, and if you were in an 80’s romcom, you’d be twisting the phone cord between your fingers.

“5pm it is, don’t be late,” you can hear his smirk, and a bolt of guilt strikes your chest.

“look, i need to ask something, and i think i already know the answer,” hobie speaks, and you bite your lip in anticipation, “the band and i are playing at a new venue tomorrow, it’s the biggest we’ve played, we’re all dead excited, and…”

a sigh.

“well, it won’t feel the same without you there, pretty.”

if the first bolt wasn’t enough, then the second one lived up to it, striking you into the dead center of your heart. it had been well over 6 months since you met hobie. well, “met”. you’d accidentally called the wrong number one day, meaning to contact a friend of a friend, but typing the last number wrong. picking up at the other end was a deep, almost mesmerising voice, telling you; “no bother, darlin’. it happens, just make sure not to lose this number, wanna hear more from ya.”

“hobie, you know i can’t,” your voice is brimming with remorse and you look to the ground.

“i know, shit with your parents, i get it," he tried hard to hide the disappointment, but his heart twanged with neglect and it creeped through into his words.

parents. strict, all-demanding 'parents'. that's what you told hobie when you first started dating, that the reason you aren't able to see him was because your mother was overbearing and extremely protective – it was a lie. a lie that was eating you up from the inside out. the truth was slightly more grim, however.

years ago, you got involved with a guy at work. a couple brief conversations turned into dates, and dates turned into anniversaries, anniversaries turned into toxic, violent arguments and after a long time of dating, you broke up with him. to say he took it badly, was a criminal understatement. threatening phone calls, showing up at your work, sending you gifts and menacing letters – his signature move was scaring off, and even once harming, any man or potential love interest that you interacted with. it was exhausting, and terrifying.

and hobie was different. he was sweet and kind, but rough around the edges, and his voice dripped in passion no matter the topic of conversation. his promises were never empty, and most importantly – he loved you. and you loved him. the last thing you wanted, was your ex to pop up and scare him off, so you kept it from him. limiting your relationship to phone calls at arranged times incase your ex was keeping tabs.

“i’m sorry, hobie,” is all you could muster, not even scratching the tip of the catastrophic iceberg that wedged the back of your throat.

“it’s okay, darlin’, don’t worry that pretty little head over it,” and just like every phone call, you melted into his words, “i love you, yeah? i’ll call you tomorrow at 5.”

“i’ll be waiting,” you smiled, cheeks flushed at his gentle affirmations, “i love you.”

with a ruckus of movement, and what sounded like a kiss, the call ended, and you stared at the screen silently for a moment. not much longer could you avoid it, and the malten bubble of dread spilled into your gut.

sending him a quick text:

‘good luck tomorrow, handsome. what’s the venue called again? you’ll do amazing x’

you turned off your phone, discarding it on the bed as you climbed into the hole of guilt you’d dug yourself.

“oi, you ready, blud?” hobie’s band mate yelled above the bustle and cheers from the crowd before them. large, bejewelled hands poised onto his guitar strings, he smirked.

“always.”

with a nod to the roadie, the lights went up, illuminating the stage and instruments, hobie's glowing with a harsh red tint. immediately, his sepia eyes digested the crowd. seeing the flushed, excitable faces staring back at him sent a shot of confidence to his bones, and they moved, strumming the guitar with such vigor that the stage floor shook beneath his feet. cheers erupted, and yet felt oddly empty. it was missing something, and he knew what it was immediately.

he'd truly give his all to have you there, front stage in his eyeline, screaming his songs like gospel. not that he'd ever seen you properly, only seeing teasing selfies you'd sent him over the months you'd been together. he didn't care, inherently, he'd fallen head over heels for your personality; a pretty face was only just a bonus.

however, he did yearn for your touch. to feel his hands in your hair, to kiss your cheek, your nose, your neck. he longed to have you with him, even just doing stupid little tasks, having you by his side through the domestic side of life.

his gall spurred him on, his passion surging through his fingertips, spilling out into the sound waves. the audience were lapping it up, screams and chants only barely audible under the booming power of their set. song, after song, after song his talented blood seeped out onto the strings, and his feet were almost numb from the vibration of the bass.

the final song arrived, and his chest was burning, vision blurry, heart pounding against his chest – and he loved it. it was their biggest crowd, their most excitable achievement so far, and his blood pumped with adrenaline as he finished off the set, falling to his knees as he strum his guitar with one final chord. lights falling, his chest was heaving and his eyes scanned the audience one final time – you weren’t there. he had to accept that.

“that was fuckin’ sick, blud!” his bassist yelled as they exited the stage, palm slapping hobie’s shoulder blade and elicited a wide, ecstatic grin.

“you smashed it, mate,” hobie shouted back over the booming stereo that took their place.

“nah, man, you stole the show,” his bassist shook his head, patting him again in appreciation, “good that your lady’s here to see it, too, she must be proud.”

“i wish, mate,” he sighed.

“did you not see her?” his ears perked up, and at his confused expression, his bandmate continued, “over at the back, by the bar, i didn’t know what she looked like, but she was asking after you. ‘er story adds up.”

"shit," he mutters, feet solid on the ground. his heart pounds, skeptical of your presence, but chest bursting with hope that it just might be you, "look, bro, i need to–"

"go! go, man, go see her," his bandmate pushes him in the direction of the bar, and he almost stumbles over his own feet to push the stage door open, met with the chaos of the crowded bar.

dark eyes scanning the aimless faces, he searched for anyone who could look like you; his stature brought him above everyone else, only by a little, but gave him an advantage to seek you out.

"sorry, i need to get past," he repeated, over and over to unassuming bodies, setting through the chaos to find his peace. pushing out at the back, a wave of light met him, shining through empty pint glasses and illuminating the bar.

there you were.

standing quietly, head nodding along to the blasting instrumentals, drink in hand; you were heart-stopping. and he was pretty sure his did. even if he’d never seen you face-to-face, he’d memorised the soft plump of your lips, alluring light in your eyes, even the way your hair fell against your skin from the photos he'd seen. there was no doubt it was you, and my god, you were beautiful. he couldn’t even stop his legs if he tried, as they carried him over to you.

"y/n?" his voice barely travelled through the sound waves, but it hit your ear like a familiar embrace.

turning to him, eyes wide and bright in the twinkling of the bar lights. you drunk him in, warm eyes swallowing every part of him. you'd seen pictures, again, but it could never compare to him. dark brown skin, soft to its complexion, hugged his bones in every perfect way; folding at the creases of his handsome face. he was tall, very tall, and the detail of the curves and indents of his muscles, altered by the shadows of the dim bar light, made your head fuzzy. god, he was beautiful – nothing that a digital screen could ever portray with justice.

"hobie," your voice was crisper than he was used to, and he would bottle it if he could, "hey, handsome, you got a–"

"come 'ere," he interrupted, essentially scooping you into his tense embrace, melting into your scent, the feel of you in his arms. his heart was pounding against his chest. you wrapped yourself around him, running your hands along his leather jacket, ghosting the skin below it.

"you interrupted my introduction," you pouted against his shoulder, "had a whole little joke planned and everything, you know."

"go on, hit me, love," he pulled back a tiny bit, his arms still glued around your waist, looking down through his lashes. you faltered under his intense gaze, giddy smile bursting onto your face and you buried your head in his chest.

"nuh uh, not anymore," you shook your head against him, "you ruined it."

his hand came up to touch your face whilst you spoke, following the edge of your hairline and tucking your hair around your shoulder. he was in awe, having you here, having you with him. tightening his embrace, he didn't want to let you go – ever.

"mhmm," his voice vibrated his chest, and you pulled away, "i'm sure it was hilarious, love."

"it really was," you chuckled, giddy in his presence.

the air grew thicker, your laughter dying out and left with just his strong gaze, his dark brown eyes following yours. you could barely comprehend him being here, in front of you, around you, and he was so much more than you had imagined. feeling his calloused hand caress your cheek, you leaned into his touch, inviting him into your world. cupping your face, hobie bought himself to you, leaning down until his pierced lips were ghosting your own. months he'd dreamed of this, imagined how it would feel to kiss his girl, to taste your lips and feel your love. he could feel your breath, and you were about to give in, until you pulled away.

"wait, i–" you swallowed thickly, pulling your touch from him.

"what's up, darlin'?" his eyes scanned your face for any sign of reason, "did i do somethin'?"

"no! no, you," you sighed, "you're perfect, it's not you."

he'd be lying through his teeth if he denied the pit of anxiety building deep in his stomach, bubbling up his throat.

"what is it?"

"i–" you stuttered again, and fought to get your words out of your brain and into the thick air of the bar, "i haven't been telling you the truth."

silence. just for a second. hobie's brain working over time.

"look, if you've got another fella, or somethin', just get it over with–"

"no! no, hobie, i'm yours, i promise," your words settled him for a second.

"my parents don't care about us, they aren't strict, in fact, they were happy when i told them about you," you begun, opening the dam.

"they know about me?" his voice was smaller than you were used to, and if your brain had a spare synapse to process it, you'd probably have melted.

"yes, and i'm sorry i haven't told you," you avoided his eyes, "it's my ex."

"oh, fuckin' 'ell," he sighed, dropping his arms to his side, and he's about to speak, until you interrupt.

"we broke up years ago, but he's never left me alone," you ring your wrists with your hands nervously, and hobie notices – you looked terrified, "i've tried everything; i've tried the police, i've moved countless times, i've changed jobs, made new friends, met new people – he won't leave me be."

tears welled up now, and his heart reached for you, but his arms stayed stuck by his side.

"every guy that i meet, he's, i don't know, calling them telling them i'm someone i'm not, or following them home and slashing tires, or roughing them up outside pubs," paranoia enveloped you, and your eyes darting around the crowd, "i was so scared, because you're the best i've ever had, and probably will ever have, and i don't want him to scare you off."

"y/n–"

"and i understand if this has done exactly what i'm scared of, because i get that keeping it from you was awful, but i was only trying to protect you and–"

his lips cut you off, warm against your own, capturing your words and pushing them back down your throat. hands on your cheeks, body flush against your own, you melted into him completely. it felt like heaven, like months of tension and longing unravelling like ribbon into the wind. it was safe, gentle, like a promise – a promise that it didn't scare him, and that he was yours.

"is he here?" his voice was low, lips hovering yours.

"i-i don't know," you were flustered, your brain trying to make sense of it all, but his hand on the small of your back stopped any cognitive thoughts, "i haven't seen him."

watching him, hobie's dark eyes floated around the crowd, before falling back onto you. smirk on his lips, he placed a quick peck onto your cheek.

"hmm, i hope he enjoyed the show," he chuckled lowly, and you couldn't help but mimic it, relief flooding off your shoulders, "how about we go somewhere a bit safer?"

"like where?" you questioned, intrigued by the coaxing tone of his voice.

"well, i only live around the corner," he shrugged, before offering his hand. blushing, you slipped your hand into his, the soft skin of his fingers pulling you towards him, until he threw his arm around your shoulder.

"nothing could scare me off, you know," he whispered, placing a kiss to your hair, "i'm 'ard as nails."

"oh yeah?" you giggled.

"mhmm."

clothed eyes glued to the suspicious figure, hobie stood on a rooftop, footsteps silent as he follows the man below. tailing him through the cobbled back lanes of london, hobie's back tingled with apprehension – he'd been following him for at least a mile, waiting for a perfect opportunity.

and he'd finally found it.

pausing his heavy stroll, the man dug into his pockets and pulled out a slightly crushed pack of cigarettes, fumbling further for a lighter. a small orange glow lit up the air around him as he puffed away, smoke fluttering to meet hobie's nose.

silently, hobie swung to a platform below, pulling his guitar tighter against his back and dropped to the hard ground. the sound of his leather boots colliding with the cobble made the man turn in his direction, eyes wide at the sight.

"spiderman?" the man breathed between puffs, voice hoarse, "can i help you?"

"you know what, i think you can," hobie strutted, hands stuffed into his leather jacket, lanky stance towering him, "are you y/n's ex fella?"

"who's asking?" he questioned stupidly, and hobie let out a laugh.

"bruv, who's– are you stupid or somethin'?" hobie punched him lightly in the shoulder, "do you not see the whole get up?"

"the fuck have you got to do with y/n?" he spat, defensive stance taking over his body.

"none of your business," hobie knew that would sting, "but you're gonna leave her alone, fella."

"you don't know what you're talking about."

"i'm not askin', mate," hobie stepped closer, "and i'm not givin' you a choice."

before he could even utter a response, hobie had swung his spike-studded arm in his direction, knuckles colliding against the pathetic man's jaw, knocking him to the ground below.

"tha's my girl you're messin' with now."

#hobie brown #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x reader #spiderpunk #spider punk x you #spider punk x reader #spider punk #hobie #hobie my beloved #atsv hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie x reader #across the spiderverse #hobie x you #across the spider verse spoilers

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nicromancytarot · 28 days

Text

HOW WILL YOU MEET YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE?

This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I don’t change for these readings and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I got but I pull like 20-30 cards each reading and that just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.

PICK A CARD READING

I asked my spirit guides how you will meet your future spouse, pick a pile to see what they had to say!

Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3

PILE 1

For you guys I am getting the feeling that you’re at some type of work convention, possibly an important business opportunity. There seems to be a theme of money and work for this pile, I’m getting heavily that this is something that you either didn’t want to go to, or we’re reluctant to attend.

This mindset could have something to do with you possibly being nervous about what this opportunity has in store for you. Some of you may be at some big gala type event trying to build your reputation so you can get more business, or even a promotion. I see someone who is really on the edge of their seat with nerves, they keep topping up their wine glass. I can’t help but notice the outfit that they are wearing, for me I’m seeing a feminine figure, they’re wearing a long gold sparkly dress, apologising for almost knocking over a glass of wine as they pour themself another, this person does seem very anxious lmao.

I think you will be introduced to your future spouse through either a friend, or some older male figure that you work with. For a few of you, you will be really not wanting to meet anyone new during this time, you’ll be stuffing your mouth full of all these delicacies like pastries in order to not have to speak to anyone.

It’s at this point that this masculine comes over to retrieve you, for some it may be your boss, or manager, for others this will be one of your closest friends.

Your future spouse will take control of the conversation when the masculine leaves, they will be quick to bring you into an engaging discussion over possibly something to do with your job. You’ll be very confused as to why you don’t feel uncomfortable around this stranger, some of you may even notice that this is your future spouse since the spark will be there in an instant.

A select amount of you will be asked for your number, or email, something so they can contact you for “business”, this form of contact will absolutely not be used for business lmao.

PILE 2

You guys are really going through the ringer around the time that you meet your future spouse, for some of you, you maybe even be around the age of thirty at this time, the only reason I say this is because it could be your Saturn return which is influencing all this hardship. However, a lot of you will be pretty young, as I’m seeing someone going out to a club/party to go get absurdly drunk.

A lot of you will be going through a really hard breakup during this era of your life, this could be with a partner that you were will for a long while, as I’m getting the feeling that you though this was your forever person. I don’t think you’ve really given yourself much time to heal from this partnership before you go out clubbing to detach from the feeling of aloneness.

For a very select few of you, you may have been cheated on by your partner, and find out only a few days prior to this meet.

You’re going out to feel free and completely out of control of whatever is going on around you, some of your friends might even try to encourage you to leave before something happens, as I do see you trying to cope with your sadness by drinking yourself into oblivion.

A small amount of you will meet your future spouse, eye them up and then take them to the back or to your place, possibly even their place to have some intimate time. So yes, this could start of as a hookup.

Others of you are going to embarrass the hell out of yourselves, I’m seeing some tripping over and falling onto the lap of the other, in another scenario there’s someone falling down some stairs and some other person catching her just before she plummets.

This person may even stay with you to help you sober up lmao, you may confide in this person a little too much and cry to them about your failed relationship while in a drunken state. They could even hold your hair back while you’re busy throwing up #cute.

I’m seeing that they may ask for yours or your friends number so they can check on you later that night, or in the morning.

PILE 3

You guys are also going through something during this time, for some of you it’s a failed situationship which I think you were committed to for a long time, this seems to have come out of the blue, a completely unexpected betrayal.

Whoever the person you were dealing with is, they are the type to say that “labels are pointless”

Others of you were under the impression that you were in a relationship, but instead you were actually in a situationship and your person slept with or got with another person, this caused an uproar and you were quick to make the decision to leave.

For a very, very small amount of you, you possibly got up and left off to another part of the world, wanting to be completely disconnected from this person and their terrible sense of loyalty.

The rest of you are also travelling or on vacation in another country/state etc (depending on where you are stationed) I see that you may go into a store or to a market place and have to ask the clerk/seller for the price of the piece, or possibly you accidentally ask a random person, thinking that they are a worker.

Whichever way this goes, that is your future spouse. They will do their best to help you, if you mistook them for a worker, they will be sure to laugh it off.

I’m seeing someone that you just instantly click with, they may not be your ideal type, but the two of you just make so much sense together.

This person will either say something about your beauty, compliment your style or even the item in your hand, this will then turn into a long winded conversation about whatever it is they have brought up, some of you may give your number, others of you will leave and come back to the store/market place another day while on your trip and meet with this persons again.

Bonus: they have a gorgeous smile.

#tarot #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #tarot witch #free tarot #tarot reading #tarot cards #pick a card #pick a pile

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alonetimelover · 8 months

Note

I was wondering if you could write Harry kissing reader lips all the times. No matter where or with whom. During sex or doing domestic things pls

pairing: boyfriend!Harry x reader

summary: Harry's love language is physical touch, but especially showering you with kisses. Here are just a few types of them.

warnings: Suggestive content (alluding to smut, but nothing explicit, alluding to reader being submissive), lots of kisses.

a/n: Just boyfriendrry and his obsession with your lips. No specific trope of mine here, just cuteness overload. Thank you for requesting!!!

masterlist taglist

At the beginning of your relationship Harry tried not to be overly all over you. He didn’t like the word clingy but he was the equivalent to it. In the dictionary, there could be his photo next to the definition of the word. But he tried to repress the urge to just touch your arm when you were sitting on the couch, holding your hand at all times while strolling all those World’s streets, keeping his hand on your thigh while driving, caressing your hair while you tried to fall asleep late at night, massaging your sore shoulders after coming home to him after work, or just squeezing you tight whenever he was passing you. He tried to repress it, making you wonder if there was something bad going on.

“What is your love language, Harry?” You finally asked him, while watching one of the movies from your TBW (to be watched) list. It was yet another time when he sat a metre away from you, as if you were contagious. It got you thinking.

“Why the question?”

“It’s just, I can’t crack it. I feel like you appreciate all of them but not one from what I do is your favourite. It’s just, I just want to cherish you the way you want to be,” you explained, now sitting sideways on the couch, face to face with Harry.

Harry breathed heavily, “well, I didn’t think I had one. I learned to do things that my partners appreciated and roll with it.”

“You mean none of your partners asked you the question?”

“Is that a usual question you ask?”

“I do. I mean, don’t you want to know what your partner appreciates and what they don’t like? I think the best way is to ask. It’s not only for pleasure but for creating boundaries. Those are as important.”

Now, Harry was thinking. One of the most important things he wanted to do in all of his relationships during the years was making his partners feel good, appreciated, and most importantly secure. He didn’t want them to be scared or not comfortable or even not sure about his feelings. And he now realised, you weren’t sure.

“I think it’s physical touch,” he finally said.

Well, that shut you up. And it did for a while, so Harry started to worry if you even heard him.

“Yeah, I heard you. I’m just,” you stopped for a moment. “Just surprised, I guess. I’m glad I asked.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Well, now that I know,” you prolonged the last word and moved on your knees, crawling towards Harry.

“What are you- oh!”

In seconds you were making yourself comfortable, laying down on Harry, head on his chest, one of your legs wrapping around his and arms embracing his waist, making him stop talking.

“I love physical touch. Please don’t hold yourself back anymore,” you whispered in his chest, not wanting to strain away from his warmth.

“Just tell me when I’m too clingy.” Harry kissed the top of your head.

“I will. It’s gonna be okay when we communicate,” you explained and added, “you have something else you want to do more as a couple?”

“Kisses,” he now said without hesitation, confident with his feelings and needs. Coming clear to you.

“Oh, the more you know, the more you know.”

So you spent the rest of your evening sharing kisses, touches and sweet nothings. Now sure about each other more than ever.

—

From the moment that conversation happened very early on your relationship, the physical touch was an indispensable part of it. It was everything from light touches under the table during all of the dinners you had in the public and holding hands while doing groceries to kissing you breathless against the door after coming home from a party, where you’d been teasing him throughout the whole night.

And those kisses and any other type of them were Harry’s favourite way of saying ‘I love you’ even when those words were not apparent in your relationship’s vocabulary.

At the beginning, the surprising kisses, being placed on your lips on any unexpected moment during your meetings were his favourite.

“You really can't just not scare me any time we see each other, eh?" you finally asked him, hand on your heart and trying to steady your breathing.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I'll do it softer next time," Harry promised, wrapping his hands around you and turning you so he could properly see your face.

"Softer? How about without giving me a near heart attack experience?"

"Mhmm."

But those words really just went in one ear and left through the other. Harry had something much greater to concentrate on. Your lips, smeared with tomato sauce you'd been preparing to go with dinner, were just a thing he gazed at.

"You're not listening."

"Of course, baby."

Just the way your lips were moving with the upper lip extra red made him answer not knowing what. He just wanted to drown into the endless waterfall of your kisses.

“Okay, great! That’s why I was thinking about breaking up. It just seems to be not working, you know?” You tested him, if your prediction of him not being actually there in front of you, was true.

“Yes, baby.”

Bingo. He was not listening.

“Harry, do you realise that we just broke up?”

Now, he was listening. You used his name. How could you use his actual name and not one of the established nicknames. You used ‘Harry’ and he now knew you meant business.

“What?”

“Oh, now you're listening! Great! Uhmm - I am making a spaghetti bolognese and need you to taste the sauce. It’s just missing something,” you said like not a minute ago you didn’t use the words ‘break up’ and ‘Harry’ in one sentence.

“Wait a minute. What ‘break up’?”

“Oh, you heard that?”

“Well, you called me Harry! Of course I heard what was said later.”

“That’s your name, love,” you teased, turning to the pan, stirring the sauce.

“That’s,” he emphasised. “That’s my name. Love, baby, my sweetest boyfriend, sexy, hottie. Whatever. You know it.” He pouted, making his way between you and the stove, as to have your undivided attention.

“Oh, is that true?” Teasing smile on your face, turning into a loving grin.

“Yep.” He popped the ‘p’ and dived towards your face, giving you sweet three kisses on your lips in a way to say ‘I love you’ without using those heavy words.

—

And somehow even after being used to saying ‘I love you’ all the time, those three kisses meaning those words stayed in your relationship ritual. Whenever he was leaving for tour - three kisses -, whenever you went to visit your family - three kisses -, whenever you stayed at home and he was going to the store - three kisses -, right before falling asleep - three kisses. It was just engraved in you both.

“I’ll see you in two weeks,” you said for the third time, assuring him.

“That’s too long.” He grimaced. “Can’t you just go with me?”

You laughed, “of course I can’t. I have a job, and I promised mum I would spend some time back home. And then,” you placed both of your arms around his neck, placing your hands in his overgrown locks. “And then I am joining you.”

Harry smiled, leaning in and placing his warm lips on your cold ones, making your breath hitched. No matter how many of those kisses you shared, each and every one of them, no matter how long or how needy they were, made you stumble and felt like it was the very first time he stole your breath away.

He was cursing himself in his mind, when the kiss grew very heavy and needy. When your hands pulled on his hair just the way he liked, and his knee was going right where you wanted. His hands slowly moved under your baggy shirt, sending shivers down your spine. His cold fingers slowly stroke your lower back and hips, then making their way just under your ass, so he could hold you up.

“Your plane is leaving in two hours, baby,” you said breathlessly, when Harry plastered your neck with some tiny and some mark-leaving kisses.

“Mhm, don’t care.”

“You’ll hate yourself if you’re not early enough at the airport.”

“Ugh,” he groaned. “How are you always right and rational even when I am very prominently trying for you to forget about everything, huh?”

He placed you back on your feet, now stroking your cheeks with his thumbs, gazing into your eyes, searching for any sign of ‘keep doing what you’ve been doing for the past five minutes’. Finding none.

“Need to put that on my resume,” you joked.

“If you were working for me? Sure. For anybody else? Uh, uh. Don’t need others thinking about you like this,” he whispered, eyeing you up and down.

“Possessive, are we?”

“Nah.” He shook his head. “Just in love.”

You smiled at him, and placed those final three kisses on his awaiting and slightly swollen lips.

“I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

“I’ll miss you. I love you.”

—

Like in each and every relationship there were times where you didn’t agree on certain things. Times when you argued. Times when you had silent days. And during those silent days, Harry still, a little bit proud and sometimes with a bruised ego, didn’t want to speak. But he couldn’t live without kissing you. As confusing as it was, you appreciated that. Even though you both were angry at each other, or disappointed in one another, or too proud to admit that the other was right - you would never refuse his kisses.

Well, you once tried.

“I don’t want you to kiss me,” you said seriously, immediately going back to reading your novel.

Harry’s brows scrunched and he cleared his throat. That hurt more than the argument, he thought. But he wouldn’t say it. He was mad and promised himself, childishly, to give you a silent treatment. It was a one time situation that he never redid.

So he sat down next to you on the couch and waited patiently for you to speak up. He waited for hours till the moment you finished a part of a book that you had promised yourself you’d do. Then, you closed it and turned towards him.

“Are you going to talk to me now?”

He sighed, placing one hand on your knee, squeezing it gently.

“I’m sorry.”

“I am too.”

“For the argument and the silence that I thought would be the best,” Harry resumed his apology after you said yours. “I know, we agreed on communicating. I’m sorry.”

“We’ll do it next time. No one said that we are perfect and are going to stick to the plan all the time. Mistakes are going to happen, probably more frequently than not. It’s just the way humans, we, are.”

Harry smiled as you started stroking his cheek lovingly. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“And you were right,” he added. “My ego couldn’t take it.”

“I understand. Mine couldn’t either. We need to keep each other in check, shouldn’t we?”

“Yes. But I have one request.”

You encouraged him to continue by nodding your hand.

“Never, and I really mean it, never refuse my kisses. It hurt me more than anything ever. No matter how angry we are at each other, just promise me, you won’t refuse a kiss from me.”

If it was possible your eyes would immediately flow with tears and sobs would come out of your mouth. Harry was too good and sweet for this world. And his obsession with kisses just added up to his lovingness in an attempt to make sure you knew how loved you were.

“Promise.”

And you sealed that promise with a sweet kiss.

—

There was one more special type of a kiss that Harry provided you with. One that just screamed: bedroom. Or, you know, just let’s go and be alone with each other. It was discreet so whenever you were in public, or with your family or friends, they wouldn’t know what was going on.

It was very simple. Harry would look like whispering something in your ear, but in reality he was kissing and sometimes slightly grazing the skin right under with his teeth, showering your body with goosebumps.

The first time he did that was in his bed, no one was around, just you and him. You were lying for him, just the way he wanted you to. In the middle of the bed, pillow under your head to make you comfortable and hands placed underneath it to forbid you of touching. You laid there at his mercy watching as he moved around the room in just his dress pants - belt forgotten on the floor (already done with its job), button and zipper open, his underwear peeking.

He finally stopped walking, standing at the end of the bed, right in front of you. Holding both of your ankles in each hand he moved them apart, placing them just far enough so he could fit between your legs. With eyes locked into yours, he kneeled on the bed, kissed one and then the second of your knees still not averting his gaze from you. Your breath hitched, a moan daring to escape your lips.

“Don’t hold it in. I want to hear you, sweet girl,” Harry said.

Of course he noticed the shallow and rapid breaths, warm skin and shy gaze from you. He noticed how you were forbidding him from hearing your voice, hearing how good he made you feel even though he barely touched you today. He needed to know your every thought and feeling right now.

He smirked when you moaned after he squeezed and then caressed your inner thigh.

Finally, to end your misery and yearning, he leaned down, bearing down on one of his forearms. His face daring closer and closer to yours, edging you endlessly. You wanted to just grab his head and kiss him right this moment, but knew that wouldn’t lead you to any good. You learned your lesson the hard way.

“Now,” he started, his face just inches away from your ear. “I think I can start to properly thank you, huh?”

You gulped, not knowing if the noise that would come out of your mouth would be a coherent sentence (a simple ‘yes’) or a loud, needy moan. You knew Harry would encourage you to speak up. He needed to hear you and he could wait more to just hear those three letters.

“Words, sweet girl. I need to hear you saying it.”

His hand once again moved to your thigh, his fingertips tickling your skin, so delicate, so familiar and needed. He was testing you, almost as he wanted you to fail his little test, wanting to see you crumble underneath him.

“Yes, yes. Please.”

He grinned, and it had nothing to do with a teasing smirk he liked to send your way nor the teasing smile he flashed you from time to time. That grin was just perfection, like showing your entire love on your hand, giving it away to that one and only.

And then he kissed that spot for the very first time. And you weren’t silent, loudly giving him a pointer that it was a way to see you fall apart from the simplest of pleasures.

“Mhmm,” he chuckled. “I’m gonna use it more from now on.”

—

a/n: a little challenge for myself to write something more intimate. i hope you liked it!

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #boyfriend!harry

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sturnioloskyline · 2 months

Note

Can’t stop thinking about Matt pulling a prank on reader that makes her cry so she runs downstairs to tell his mom 😂

tattletale

pairing: matt x fem!reader

warnings: language, anxiety, injury(fake), crying, cheesy fluffy ending, not proofread

summary: matt hurts your feelings, so you tell on him.

thank you for the request, anon!! 😋

nick adjusted the camera he had set up on matt's desk, angling it so it recorded matt's bed. chris watched him, standing on the other side of the room and making surre the camera looked decently hidden. matt sat on the bed, scrolling on his phone while waiting for his brothers.

"camera's set up," nick stood up and turned to look at his brothers, grabbing both of their attentions. "you guys ready?"

matt and chris nodded, walking towards the camera so that they could record an explanation for their plan. nick reached over and clicked the record button, stepping back and clapping his hands together.

"hi guys. okay so," nick began explaining, a small smile tugging at his lips. chris grinned at the camera, rubbing his hands together mischievously. "today we're going to be doing a couple's prank!"

matt groaned and rolled his eyes at the term, shoving nick in his side. nick only laughed at his reaction.

"so basically, we're gonna call y/n and act like matt got in an accident or something, and we're gonna call her over and matt's gonna pretend he got hurt." nick turned to matt, who shook his head.

"i can't believe i'm agreeing to this," matt murmured, crossing his arms. chris and nick looked at each other, giggling.

"this is gonna be so good!" chris yelled jokingly, bouncing on his toes.

downstairs, the triplet's parents were spending time together while waiting for them to finish their video. matt explained to them that y/n was coming and they were going to be loud, but chose to leave out the main premise of the video, knowing that marylou wouldn't approve of their plan.

"okay, chris, call her,"nick instructed. chris complied, pulled his phone out of his pocket and searching for your contact. he held out his phone so his brothers could better see the screen.

"i don't know what to say," chris looked to his brothers for advice.

"just call and start, like, yelling," nick shrugged. matt's eyes widened.

"no, c'mon, don't scare her that bad," matt said nervously.

"that's the whole point matt!" nick scoffed. matt looked to chris for backup, but he shook his head.

"yeah, i agree with nick, sorry matt," chris said, opening your contact and hovering his thumb over the call button, hesitating. "nick, can you do it? i can't."

nick rolled his eyes but took the phone from chris, hitting the call button and putting the phone on speaker. matt buried his face in his hands. dreading the conversation that was about to happen. the phone rung out a few times before clicking, causing the triplets to shuffle tighter around the phone.

"chris? hello?" your confused voice sounded through chris's phone speakers. causing a smile to spread on matt's face.

"Y/N? ARE YOU THERE? IT'S NICK," nick screamed into the phone. chris immediately turned away to keep himself from laughing out loud.

"yeah, i'm here nick, what's wrong? what's going on?" your voice was laced with worry, causing matt's eyebrows to furrow in guilt.

"IT'S MATT," nick yelled. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED, BUT HE GOT HURT, YOU NEED TO GET OVER HERE."

"WHAT?" you screamed back in shock. your heart immediately droppeed at the mention of matt's name. "WHERE IS HE?"

"IN HIS ROOM, LISTEN, I HAVE TO GO—"

"NICK, WAIT, DON'T HANG—" nick hit the red end call button on chris's screen, handing his phone back to him.

"nick, what the fuck?" matt turned to his brother. "that was insane! she's gonna think i'm fucking dying."

"no she won't, it'll be fine, relax," nick shrugged, only causing matt to become more stressed.

"oh my god, guys!" chris jaw dropped at his phone screen, causing his brothers to snap their heads towards him. "she's calling again,"

"oh my god," matt groaned, putting his face in his hands.

"don't pick up! just let her come over," nick giggled. matt sighed and walked over to his bed, laying down and throwing an arm over his eyes.

"so... what do we do now?" chris asked, moving to sit at the end of matt's bed.

"we wait," matt pulled out his phone to check your location, and sure enough, you were already on your way to the triplets house. matt's eyes widened as you moved rapidly towards his location. "holy shit, she's whipping it."

nick walked over to matt and chris, and matt flips his phone around so his brothers can see the speed at which you're driving over. "if she's going that fast she'll be here in like, five minutes."

the triplets rushed to prepare for y/n's arrival. nick set up another camera to get an angle facing matt's door, chris looked out the window to watch out for y/n's car, and matt just curled up into a ball on his bed.

"okay, she's pulling in, she's pulling in!" chris frantically closed the window blinds, going to matt's side at the bed. nick stumbled as well, rubbing his palms on his pants.

"okay, okay, let's just start yelling," nick quickly suggested. chris didn't need to be told twice, immediately screaming.

"MATT!! MATT, ARE YOU OKAY MATT?" chris wailed, neding down at matt's side. matt rolled his eyes and his brother, resulting in a smack on the leg from nick.

"matt! scream!" nick whisper-yelled. matt sighed, but complied anyways.

"AAAAAAAAAA!" matt screams louder than he's ever been before. just a second later, the triplets could hear the front door being unlocked and opened from downstairs.

“matt?” your voice echoed throughout the house. you quickly bounded up the stairs, not bothering to take off your shoes.

matt lets out another scream of pain, making your heart drop to your stomach. you sprint to his room, bursting the door open, almost breaking it off of its hinges. nick and chris snapped their heads towards you, surprised by your sudden entrance. you ignored the way the looked at you, pushing past them to rush to matt's side.

matt laid with his face buried in the pillow, his knees tucked up to his chest. just the sight of him in pain made a lump form in your throat.

"matt!" you sink down beside the bed, placing your hand on matt's back. "baby what's wrong? what's happened?"

"hurts so bad.." matt's whined dramatically. your heart broke at the sound of his weak voice, tears pricking in your eyes. you looked at chris and nick, who just looked at you sadly.

"can you turn over for me?" matt shook his head into the pillow. matt had never acted like this when he was in pain, so you were starting to really think something was seriously wrong. a tear rolled down your cheek at the thought.

"oh, matt," you couldn't keep your voice from cracking with emotion. matt immediately noticed, snapping his head up from the pillow to look at you. when he saw the tears that were beginning to stream down your face, he immediately sat up and reached out to wipe them away.

"hey, don't cry," matt was riddled with guilt. you furrowed your eyebrows, confused as matt held your face in his hands.

"aw, c'mon matt!" chris groaned. you glanced over at him and looked back at matt.

"what the actual hell is going on?" you asked him.

"i'm not hurt, we were just pranking you for the vlog," matt explained, watching your face closely for a reaction. your facial expression remained blank, causing matt to worry. "i'm sorry, i didn't mean to make you cry. it was nick and chris's idea."

nick and chris immediately began yelling to defend themselves, but you ignored them. you looked at matt, who looked to you with remorse in his eyes. you shook your head, standing up and walking towards the door.

"y/n, wait!" matt called out behind you, but you just exited the room. you weren't seriously angry at him, just a little frustrated. plus, now your head was aching from crying, so you wanted a glass of water.

you heard footsteps behind you so you turned around. you expected to see matt, but were surprised when you saw his mom instead. “marylou?”

"y/n!" she smiled, holding out her arms to greet you, but her smile faltered when she saw your watery eyes. "what's wrong honey?"

just then, matt opened his bedroom door, freezing when he saw you facing his mother. your eyes flicked to his before you turned back to marylou.

"your son—" you pointed to matt. "tricked me! he pulled the meanest ‘prank’ ever."

marylou gasped, turning to look at her son, who replied with a guilty look. "matthew!"

"he acted like he was dying! that’s not funny!" you ranted. marylou shook her head and pulled you into a hug.

you looked at matt over her shoulder, not being able to hold back your smile from him. his expression softened when he realized you weren't mad at him. shortly after, chris and nick appeared behind matt.

marylou pulled away from the hug, turning around to look at her sons. “is that what all that screaming was about? you were pulling a prank on sweet y/n?”

you giggled at marylou’s scolding. the triplets began talking over each other in defense, causing you and marylou to glance at each other, bursting into giggles.

…

as an apology, matt had brought you flowers and taco bell, and the two of you were watching one of your favorite movies. you were grateful; after all the emotional turmoil you went through earlier, all you wanted was some quiet quality time with matt.

you scooted over on the bed so that you could curl into his side once you finished your food. matt smiled down at you, throwing his tattooed arm over your shoulder. you leaned up to place a quick peck to his lips. when you pulled away, he placed his hand on your cheek and pulled you up to kiss him again. you smiled into the kiss, humming with content. the two of you broke away from each other, cuddling closer to each other and refocusing on the movie. you occasionally glanced at matt, memories from earlier flooding your brain.

“i hate seeing you hurt,” you spoke barely above a whisper. matt pulled you onto his chest, resting his head on top of yours.

“i know. i’m sorry,” he mumbled, kissing your head. you closed your eyes. “i hate seeing you cry.”

“i know,” you whispered back, wrapping your arms around him and laying on top of him. matt snaked his own arms around your waist, holding you tight.

the two of you stayed like that for the rest of the night, the movie fading into background noise as exhaustion took over your body, and before you knew it you were fast asleep on top of matt. matt stroked your hair, occasionally leaning down to kiss your head or bringing your hand to his lips, just wanting to make you feel safe. shortly after, matt gave into sleep himself, and the two of you slept soundly in each other’s arms.

…

author’s note: sometimes when i work on a big batch of fics i feel like that one hamilton lyric “hamilton wrote the other 51!!!” …. keep sending requests!! 🦄

#sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo

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lemonlover1110 · 3 months

Note

So I binged your entire Dad series and I love it so much! I was cleaning and couldn’t help but feel giddy about the prospect of Gojo being the type of dad who threatens boyfriends, so could you write a scenario where Geto & Gojo are having a play date and the two precious babies walk up to them holding hands and announces they’re dating? (Like how we grew up in elementary school saying we have a bf/gf)

dad!Satoru Gojo & dad!Suguru Geto

Warnings: Fluff

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Satoru and Suguru having kids at the same time meant that their kids would grow up to be best friends. At least that’s what the two expected, and so far as they grow, it seems that way.

Satoru’s daughter and Suguru’s son are both six which means that they both have too much energy for their little bodies. Both of their wives arrange playdates so that the kids can get the energy out, but this time around they arranged it so their husbands would keep an eye on the kids. Both were mildly annoyed when their wives made plans without consulting them, but they assured that they could handle it.

Satoru and Suguru sit on the couch, watching as their kids play together. They talk to each other about the plans they have coming up, briefly watching that their kids aren’t killing each other. Luckily enough, the pair seems inseparable, so much so that it reminds the dads of their own friendship. The kids are just mini versions of their parents, it’s no surprise that they get along so well.

“Daddy.” Satoru’s daughter calls out, and the man is so engrossed in a conversation that he holds up his index finger. He needs one second before tending to his daughter’s needs. Suguru glances over, and he blocks out whatever Satoru says, his eyes slowly going wide.

When Satoru notices the reaction of his best friend, he stops mid sentence. His head turns as if in slow motion to look down at his daughter, his eyes shooting wide open when he notices that his daughter’s precious hand is holding that of Suguru’s son. He tells himself that it’s nothing weird, kids hold hands all the time with no meaning whatsoever. Satoru clears his throat before asking, “What did you need to say, honey?”

“Katashi is now my boyfriend.” She announces with the prettiest smile on her lips. Yet, Satoru’s hand goes over his heart and he gasps. Boyfriend? At six? No way, absolutely not.

“Oh, c’mon bro, they’re just six. It’s nothing serious.” Suguru can’t help but laugh, lightly tapping Satoru’s shoulder to comfort him. It’s not working all that much since Satoru is certainly not happy with the news. He thought he would have at least ten more years before this happened. Satoru makes eye contact with Suguru, and his friend is clearly amused.

It’s nothing serious, he shouldn’t be taking it so hard. Satoru sighs before looking at the kids that still hold hands. It’s nothing bad, just two kids playing around. Right now, boyfriend or girlfriend holds no meaning so Satoru’s reaction shouldn’t be so serious.

Satoru still wants to scare him. How will that happen though?

“Honey, go play with your barbies, let me talk to him.” Satoru orders, giving her a serious look. She knows he isn’t playing around. She lets go of her boyfriend’s hand, and runs to her dolls. Once she’s gone, he’s left staring at a six-year-old kid, wondering what the hell he is going to say next.

“Easy on him.” Suguru warns because that’s his six-year-old. Maybe he would help if it was someone else’s son. The kid already looks terrified so Satoru can’t go overboard.

“Look, if you ever hurt her in any way, I’ll…” What would he do? He can’t threaten to beat up a literal child. “Call paw patrol on you.”

Suguru laughs, while his son nods, completely terrified of Satoru. Good enough.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo saturo #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #getou suguru #suguru geto #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen geto #getou #jjk geto #jjk satoru #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu geto #dad gojo #dad geto

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urdepressedslut · 10 months

Text

You’re Mine, Sunshine ❝part two❞

♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Bucky takes you home, and later finds you in the library. You both get to know each other better, but Bucky is hesitant.

♡ Warnings: daddy issues, angst, mentions of parent death, fluff, bucky being a grumpy boi

Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine | Mob!Au Bodyguard!Au

Part 3

Italics are flashbacks

Your nails bit into your palm, crescent shapes left on your skin in attempt to hold your emotions back. The stare of your Father only made you feel small, the disappointment evident in his eyes.

“You know why this has to happen, right?” He asked you, annoyance laced in his tone.

You scoffed, trying to focus on the pain from your palms instead of the whirling emotions that threatened to escape.

“Father, you don’t have to lie to me. I’m a big girl.” You answered with some bite.

You were sick and tired of this sudden shift from him, he had changed after your Mothers passing. You understood completely, the death hitting him hard. But it wasn’t an excuse for him to be treating you like this, you lost your Mother too. Instead of both of you leaning on each other, he shut you out almost completely— leaving you to attempt to heal on your own.

He was acting as if buying you a house would fill the hole in your heart— acting like he was doing this for you. In reality, he just wanted nothing to do with you.

You didn’t need a house, you needed him.

He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, exhaling loudly.

“Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be. You know why.” He repeated, refusing to meet your now glossy eyes.

“I don’t want to live in a house all by myself! I want to stay with you!” You shouted, scared of being alone— in need of your Fathers comfort.

Your Father had called you in to talk with you about your new living conditions. To which, you were upset about the idea of living alone— away from your only family.

“You’re old enough to live on your own. I’ll provide you with everything you nee—”

“I don’t give a shit about any of that! I need you! I can’t do this alone!” You cried finally, the tears finally making their way down your cheeks.

“Don’t you dare use that language with me! You’re going to do as I say and shut your mouth, understand?” He boomed, and you flinched back from the loudness of his voice.

Your cries died down, only small hiccups here and there. You couldn’t help feeling your heart twinge in pain, his want to get rid of you hurting you deeply. You needed your Father more than ever— and he just didn’t care. You stared mindlessly at the floor, the familiar numbness starting to form in your fingertips, the tightness in your chest growing more intense.

He was willing to provide you everything you needed, except for the one thing you needed the most. His love.

You felt unwanted. You felt like a burden to him.

“Do I make myself clear?” He repeated, his voice sharp and angered.

You swallowed through your tight throat, knowing you wouldn’t be able to word any verbal response. You chose to nod weakly instead, keeping your eyes trained to the ground.

Pierce sighed in frustration, sitting back in his chair. He was stressed about your reactions to his plans, and decided that this conversation was over for now.

“That will be all, you can go.” He dismissed you.

You wanted to laugh in embarrassment, he didn’t even talk you like you were his daughter. He spoke to you like he did with his workers— like you were nothing.

Right now, that’s what you felt like. Nothing.

The car’s engine shutting off had woken you up, the drivers door shutting having you perk up in your seat. You straightened yourself in your seat, wiping the little bit of drool off your chin. You didn’t even realize you had dozed off.

You watched from the inside as Bucky moved swiftly to your door, opening it for you.

You swung your legs over the edge, hopping out of the car. You gave Bucky a smile, nodding in appreciation.

“Thank you.” You spoke to him, making your way up the concrete stairs to your house.

He only grunted in response, closing the door— and scanning the area. After the area seemed clear, he followed you up the stairs. The exterior of the house was quite impressive. He was aware that your Father had bought you the house— seeing as he was one of the richest men alive. But he wasn’t expecting the house the be so… you.

Again, he barely knew you. But your light presence seemed to match with this house very well.

He watched over your shoulder as you fiddled with your keys, finally unlocking the door and walking in— to which he followed close behind.

He quickly shut the door, turning and taking in the new environment. Your house.

It was a beautiful home inside as well as the outside, the walls intricate in their carved designs. The floors polished— free of any smudges. The only thing he found a little off, was the fact that there was minimal furniture.

Yes, there was a couch and some side tables here and there, but other than that— it was quite bare.

“I assume you’re going to be staying here?” You guessed, your assumption confirmed when Bucky nodded his head. “Where’s your stuff?”

“Will be delivered eventually.” He answered quickly.

You nodded in understanding, keeping the warm smile on your face.

“Well, help yourself to anything in the house. Its yours now— as well as mine.” You told him so kindly.

Bucky nodded in appreciation, but otherwise didn’t try and make any more conversation.

“Pick any room you’d like. Mine is the farthest room down the right hallway.” You informed him, pointing up the staircase.

He nodded again, staying silent.

It was going to be different having someone lurk around you at all times. But Bucky was so silent sometimes, you wondered if he was even there in the first place.

You took a deep breath, deciding to head into the library. Reading had always been the one thing that could calm you down, let yourself escape from reality for a little while. Your personal library within the house, was one of the things you were most proud of. It was grand and had so many selection of books to choose from. You smiled to yourself just thinking about it.

“I’m going to my library, please make yourself at home.” You told him.

“Very well ma’am.”

“You don’t have to do that, (Y/n)‘s just fine.” You corrected him politely.

“Okay (Y/n).” He tested out, watching your smile grow wider at the sound of your name rolling off his lips.

Giving him one last warm smile, you turned and headed to your library.

Bucky watched as you walked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Which was never a good thing. He still didn’t know what to think of you. You just seemed too… chipper. There was a catch— there had to be. He didn’t know when he’d see the true you, but he was prepared for when the moment came.

So far, you were polite and overly kind. It just didn’t make sense— your Father had described so differently. Made Bucky wonder why?

Bucky had walked around the house, curious as to what the rest of the house looked like— along with picking his room out. He decided to pick one in the same hallway as yours, he assumed it was the most practical option— in case of emergencies.

After choosing his room, he made himself comfortable on the couch downstairs. He oddly enjoyed the silence, the only sound being his breathing.

The house was so quiet— too quiet. He furrowed his brows, deciding he should check up on you.

Making his way towards the library, he was amazed as he walked through the doorway— taking in the walls of books. He was quite the book worm himself, just never showing it off. He couldn’t argue with himself that he was obsessed with this room.

He found you quickly, letting out the breath he didn’t know he was holding in. You were curled up on a loveseat, nose buried into a book. You were so lost amongst the words— you hadn’t realized Bucky standing there.

He cleared his throat, making you jump— holding a hand to your chest in fright. He definitely enjoyed spooking you a little too much, as he fought down the urge to chuckle.

“Oh my god— Bucky! You scared me!” You breathed out, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Sorry (Y/n), was just checking on you.” He informed you, turning to head out of the library.

But before he could make it too far, you called out for him.

“Wait! Bucky!” You shouted, making Bucky turn back around to face you, eyebrows up— waiting to see what you wanted. “Sit with me?”

He squinted his eyes, about to remind you that he was working a job. But your soft, desperate voice struck a chord within him.

“Please?” You pleaded, your smile dropping just slightly. Enough for Bucky to notice.

He’d let it pass this time, but he was going to hold himself accountable. He would not slack off, he would not fail at this job.

With a huff he nodded, sitting on the couch across from the loveseat. You were smiling widely now, shimming in excitement in your seat.

“Um… I thought it would be a good idea to get to know each other better.” You suggested with a hopeful smile.

“No.” Bucky shot back.

You flinched slightly back, not expecting that harsh of an answer. Your smile faltered little. You were starting to see your Father in Bucky— with the mood swings and all.

“Why not?” You asked him.

He squinted his eyes at you— something he seemed to do a lot towards you. He was trying to think of a reasonable excuse, but his mind came up empty. He just simply didn’t want to get to know you. He wanted things to stay professional— keeping his distance. For his sake.

“No.” He repeated.

You rolled your eyes with a light chuckle, a sound that had Bucky’s chest all warm.

“We are going to spending a lot of time together, it’s only fair that we trust each other— and I can’t trust you if I don’t know anything about you.” You explained, making a good point.

Bucky clenched his jaw, knowing you were right.

“Fine.” He gave in, leaning his arms on the back of the couch.

You smiled to yourself, pleased that you had convinced him— yet again.

“What’s your favorite color?” You asked him, causing him to scoff.

He tilted his head in amusement. He thought it was a silly thing to know about someone, but he also was stalling because he didn’t have one. He wondered for a moment what was wrong with him, everyone had a favorite color. Even if not a favorite— there was always a color people were drawn to. But not him.

He glanced around the room, his eyes landing on a book cover with a withering tree, the background lavender.

“Purple.” He revealed finally, hoping you wouldn’t notice his lie. Was it a lie? Purple could be his favorite.

You smiled, setting your book down to the table next to you.

“Like a dark purple or a pastel purple— a lighter purple?” You pried, fully serious.

Bucky felt the corners of his mouth twitch, and he had to fight the smile down. He couldn’t help it, seeing your serious face. Interrogating him about a color. It was cute.

“Does it matter?” He asked genuinely, and he watched your mouth open in an O shape. Your eyes staring at him like he just said the most ridiculous thing.

“Does it matt— Bucky. Of course it matters, a person’s favorite color says a lot about them. About what type of person they are. About their secrets.” You whispered the last part.

Bucky squinted his eyes again, this time defensively. Your words were playful, but he couldn’t help but feel self conscious. Your stare all of a sudden felt like you could see right through him.

“Really?” He asked seriously, and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you.

He genuinely looked freaked out for a second there, and you couldn’t contain the laughter. Bucky on the other hand, didn’t find amusement in the situation. He was slightly embarrassed that you were laughing at him, but kept his features neutral.

“No, I’m just messing with ya!” You told him, breathless from laughing. “Seriously, what kind of purple?”

He rolled his eyes, genuinely annoyed. But he couldn’t help but feel so carefree around you, he felt lighter. It almost felt like he wasn’t working a job, and just letting go.

“Light purple.” He told you, watching you nod. “What about yours?”

He dared to ask, knowing you’d probably go on a full tangent about your favorite color and why it was your favorite.

You thought for a moment, looking up to the ceiling in thought.

“Red.” You answered quickly.

Bucky waited for a moment, waiting for you to begin rambling— but you never did.

“Light… dark?” He mirrored, just as you had asked him. But he found himself genuinely curious.

You shook your head, fiddling with your fingers.

“Just red.” You said blankly, readjusting your legs so they were crisscrossed.

Your words from earlier rung through his head, and he knew you were obviously joking— but he did feel that someone’s favorite color said a lot about them. He just didn’t know what yours, said about you.

“What made you wanna be a bodyguard?” You asked him, catching him off guard with the question.

He thought hard for a moment, seeing if he could even come up with an answer. He had done a lot of things throughout his life, each moment having meaning behind it. Each path having a story of why he ended up there. But being a bodyguard? Sure, he had experience but— it wasn’t that easy of an answer.

“Your Father needed someone for the job.” He answered. “I have years of experience as well.”

His answer was quite pathetic, but you didn’t seem the type to judge. You simply nodded along, listening intently like he was saying the most interesting things.

“Well, I’m sure he was very happy that he found you.” You told him with that warm smile of yours.

“You have a nice home.” He pointed out, deciding to change the conversation.

You smiled, looking around your library in pride.

“Thank you. My Father gifted this place to me.” You told him.

“How nice of him.” Bucky thought out loud.

You let your eyes drop to the floor, trying your hardest to keep the smile from dropping. You wished more than anything that you could associate good memories with your Father. All the good memories you had left, were beginning to vanish.

“Yes, he’s a wonderful Father.” You expressed, hating that no matter what went on— you’d always love him.

Bucky listened to you answer him, while he also watched as your face would drop at the mention of him. It was a flash of happiness that looked trapped within this dull expression that would take over your features. You spoke about him like he was only a dream, something of your imagination.

He wanted to pry— but he knew he shouldn’t.

“It’s been uh… hard for him since my Mother passed.” You revealed solemnly, while attempting to keep your features light.

Bucky grew tense at your confession, his own wounds throbbing from the mere mention of your Mother. Despite his discomfort, he stayed silent.

“He tries to put on a good face but— I know he’s hurting. He’s a powerful man but, even he needs a break.” You explained, picking the skin around your nails.

Bucky noticed the way you’d talk about your Father, and your Mother’s passing. The way you were trying to act unbothered. Truthfully, you were good at hiding how you truly felt— but he could still read people well. He knew you were hurting deep down.

You weren’t sure why you felt secure around Bucky. He was a man of few words, and rather let his presence do the talking. He was a reserved guy from what you could tell, but along with that— he was also a good listener. You were also lonely, deprived of human interaction. You didn’t care if he was being paid to be around you, you’d take advantage of the company. Even if it hurt that it wasn’t really real.

“Sorry— he’d probably kill me if he knew I told you that. He’s all about his image, being the tough guy and all. Just forget I said anything.” You rushed out, realizing what you were exposing.

“Don’t worry about it.” He assured you, knowing he’d never utter a word of anything you said.

“So, what about your family?” You shot at him, and Bucky felt attacked.

He squinted his eyes, glaring at you slightly. He knew you didn’t mean any harm with the question— but he couldn’t help the the way his mind filled with dark thoughts.

“No.” He huffed, watching you shrink back back into your seat.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I—”

“I need to get back to work.” He lied, there was nothing for him that needed to be done.

You watched as he got up quickly and stomped away, a scowl etched on his face. You assumed his family was a sensitive topic, and you respected that. Although, you didn’t mean to upset him.

Bucky was mysterious and it made you want to bring him out of his shell, unlock the deepest parts of him. His presence lured you in, making you want to learn everything about him.

Bucky made his way out of the library, angry with himself. Your question was surprisingly not what had him upset, it was the fact that he started to feel comfortable enough to answer it.

There was something about you that had him slowly melting, the walls that he’d built starting to crumble in your presence. He wouldn’t allow that, he couldn’t.

☀️A/N: pls let me know if i forgot to put you on the taglist, and i’ll add you for the next one!

TAGLIST: @winters1917 @unaxv @sebastianstansqueen @casa-boiardi @sonatabee @nytzirhk @almosttoopizza @erinallene @daddy-dotcom @h0nestly-though @beautiful-loserr @gloriouspurpose01 @lesleurs @justherefortheficandsmut @floralwsloki @dottirose @madi-be-buggin @navs-bhat @happinessinthebeing @ximi1315 @buggy14 @dancer3205 @neeezza101 @rovckwells

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sbdskate · 3 months

Text

Laws Of Attraction (Part 10) - DR x lawyer!fem!reader

Summary: McLaren is in breach of contract, dr3 hires a lawyer to deal with the aftermath. Tropes ensue. Slow burn. Enemies(kind of) -> Friends/colleagues -> Lovers

Pairing: lawyer!fem!reader x Daniel Ricciardo

Warnings (18+): sickening amount of fluff, language, angst, *SMUT*: oral (m + f receiving), fingering, hand job, p in v, overstimulation if you blink

Word Count: 6,892

A/N: If you’re here, congratulations! You made it to the end. A big thank you to everyone that has commented, shared, liked, etc. I can’t believe it’s been over a year since my first post. I had a vision when I started writing this in the middle of the 2022 season, not quite sure where it would lead, but I’m happy with where it landed and I hope you are too. I hope you like wine with your cheese, because this is ~cheesy~. Also, this is my first time writing smut so (1) if you are a minor please do not proceed; (2) if you do like/read smut, I would appreciate any kind of feedback. A big thank you to @cutelittlefakejourneys and @burningcupcakefire for beta-ing. Thank you @paddockbunny, @monzabee, and @silverstonesainz for the insights and words of encouragement. As always, thank you for reading.

Daniel paced the hallway. He wasn’t accustomed to not getting what he wanted. Sure, in the last few months he had had his fair share of disappointments, but this was different. He was tempted to knock on your door until you answered, but thought the better of it.

He played through the moment in his head again, no different than analyzing a post-race debrief. What went wrong and how could he improve? He was professional during the signing. He knew you loved Geri, you only casually brought up Ginger Spice in conversation no less than a dozen times over the last few months. He knew you’d love to actually meet her – who knows, if everything went well it certainly wouldn’t be the last time for you. He didn’t force himself on you – at this point he knew you were like a cat and he needed to wait for you to come to him or else he’d scare you off. It seemed like the only thing keeping you from ripping each other’s clothes off was your job. Or so he thought.

Now he was confused. It was clear you hadn’t meant to say what you said – but you said it. I could kiss you. Can’t put the toothpaste back in the tube. Four words that looped in his brain. He had spent so much time dissecting the meaning of the word “could,” he felt like he could be a lawyer too. But he had taken his time closing the space between you in the hallway. When he leaned in, you leaned in too. You had ample time to tell him off if he had misconstrued the whole thing, and he would never think less of you if you did, but you didn’t.

No, what just happened was not a rejection. You were just skittish. Like a cat hiding under a bed, you just needed to be coaxed out – slowly. You were food motivated, he’d learned that about you during your first outing in Belgium when you put down more bon bons than he thought was humanly possible. Yes, all you needed was to be approached with patience and understanding - and maybe the promise of a full belly.

You leaned against the door and squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassment already crashing over you like a tidal wave. You knew you were being ridiculous and immature. What was it that you were still afraid of?

You stripped off your suit immediately, it felt stuffy and heavy as you overheated, the reminder of your attorney-client relationship falling to the floor. You threw on the first thing you grabbed out of your bag - why did it have to be that pesky yellow dress again?

You paced your room for what felt like hours. Your professional activities with Daniel had officially come to its natural conclusion and yet you were still hesitant to move forward. It didn’t help that you were in a country that banned the cohabitation of unmarried couples, so really, what were you even going to do?

Despite the confessions exchanged back in Mexico and the kiss in Brazil, it was never guaranteed that anything would actually happen once Daniel’s legal affairs were settled. Frankly, you still weren’t fully convinced the conversations ever actually happened. You refused to believe the lingering stares and little touches that lasted a little too long were anything more than pure coincidence.

In spite of all of it, you remained unconvinced about how Daniel actually felt about you. Over the years of failed relationships and first dates that ranged from awkward to bad, you had grown wary and skeptical of romantic pursuits. For all you knew, all his lip-service was simply an elaborate ruse to get in your pants. You thought on this worst case scenario, which really wasn’t so bad. God forbid you have one night stand with a Formula 1 driver and live to tell the tale. It would be a lie to say you wouldn’t be hurt at first if you were correct, but you would eventually be fine. You had been happily single and independent for years, it would simply be a return to your de facto state.

And even if you could take him at his word, you couldn’t help but wonder what that relationship would look like when you had to resume work for other clients and the luxury of constant travel and proximity ceased. How would you continue to keep in touch? How often would you actually be able to see each other in person? Your first relationship was with The Firm, and you knew you weren’t ready to give up your livelihood for him. Then there was the other issue of paparazzi and tabloids - the forced spotlight that would fall on you, resulting in the lack of privacy and anonymity. You had no desire for fame, yet he seemed to be designed for it. You could go toe-to-toe with opposing counsel any day, but you weren’t sure you had his mental fortitude to withstand the cruel and unsolicited opinions of strangers on the internet.

You weighed the pros and cons over and over again in your head. For someone with such a demanding job, it made no sense that it all felt so overwhelming and complicated. But it was telling that the Australian was the first person you wanted to confide in. He was the only one who could ever quiet the constant hurricane in your mind that caused you to spiral if left unchecked. In this moment, you needed him to ground you.

You had been raised to leave hotel room minibars alone unless you wanted to bankrupt you and your entire family for two generations. Going against everything you believed, you took a nip from the stock. Hoping the small amount of liquid courage would do the trick, you checked your reflection in the mirror one last time before venturing to the room next door. You would simply have to assume the risk of the unknown aftermath.

With shaking hands, you opened the door only to be met with Daniel’s presence before you. He jumped slightly at the sudden movement. You did a poor job hiding your astonishment that left you frozen in place.

“Oh… hi?” Your eyes remained wide. He looked around and scratched the back of his head, appearing to be as surprised and confused as you were.

“Hi – I uh,” he took a moment to give you a once over. “I’m sorry are you about to go somewhere? You look nice.” You felt your face turn red immediately, the bravery you built up moments ago dissipating in an instance. He shifted his weight, quickly correcting himself. “Not that you don’t always look nice! I just – you look nicer than usual. I mean-” He seemed uncharacteristically nervous and was digging himself a hole. You looked around the hall to ensure it was empty and took a deep breath to save him from digging any deeper.

“Yes actually. I was going to see you.” He seemed surprised and relieved at the answer.

“No way, I was about to see you!” He shook his head when he saw you bite back a smile. “Obviously, I’ve been standing outside your door,” he laughed nervously, his confidence shrinking by the second. “Not for very long though! You didn’t need to know that. But I wanted to come to say I’m sorry about before, I was too forward back there. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just figured, you know, since we went pencils down and everything, maybe we could-”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Did I stutter?” You walked backwards as you took his hand, leading him through the doorway. He didn’t fight your lead.

“-you don’t know what I was going to ask.” You leaned back, allowing the door to click behind you under your weight.

“It doesn’t matter. The answer is yes.” You gave him a reassuring smile and gently squeezed his hand bringing him closer. “With you it will always be yes.” It seemed both of you were at a loss for words, but they were unnecessary as he took a step towards you closing the small gap that remained. His eyes were enchantingly curious as they gazed into yours. You only looked away for a millisecond, distracted by the tongue that broke free from his mouth to moisten his plump lips. You took a deep inhale in anticipation, your heartbeat bordering on palpitations as his lips closed in.

The moment they met yours, immediately you knew you never wanted boundaries with this man ever again. One hand cupped the side of your face while the other grabbed your waist to pull you closer. You wrapped your arms around his neck in an effort to eliminate any remaining iota of space between the two of you. Your lips danced and moved together in unison, neither of you wanting to come up for air. His firm calloused hands roamed your body, unsure of where to rest. There were so many parts of you he had never touched before and he wanted desperately to become acquainted with them as quickly as possible. He squeezed your shoulders, ran them down the lengths of your arms, moved to the small of your back up towards your neck, in your hair.

The feverishness of it all began to slow, as he tried to memorize every peak and valley. He reverently moved his hands from your waist, dragging them up the length of your spine, one hand finding its way to your hair as though he wanted to remember every hair follicle, the other keeping your body firmly pressed against his. The leisurely pace only teased you, and each spot he touched left your body buzzing. He slowly brought his other hand to find yours again, repositioning so your fingers interlocked. The sweet gesture felt suddenly sinful when he pinned them to the wall, dragging them up the door until they were next to your head. The motion made your head spin, warmth spreading between your thighs, and you inadvertently let out a soft moan.

Ravenous for more, he firmly pressed your bodies together against the door, almost knocking the wind out of you. He pulled away only for a moment, his eyes pleading.

Can I?

You nodded your head frantically, capturing his mouth once more while guiding his hands to the parts you desperately needed touched. One gently cupped your breast while the other roughly grabbed your ass, kneading the muscles underneath. You both groaned in unison at the new sensation.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to touch you,” he mouthed breathlessly before finding your neck, hoping the feeling was mutual. You didn’t say anything back, but he could tell from the pant of your breath and the pulse under his lips that it was. You threw your head back as he sucked, licked, and nipped at the sweet spot as he gently grazed his thumb over your bra, immediately feeling your nipple form into a stiff peak underneath. Being mindful of your noise level, you bit back a moan that ended up coming out as a pathetic whimper. You shamelessly pushed your hips against his and squeezed his hand on your breast, encouraging him to explore and desperate for more contact.

You instinctively widened your stance for him to perch himself between your legs. His hand played with the waistband of your underwear through your dress, trailing down to your inner upper thigh.

“Stop teasing,” you hissed. He only smiled into the kiss in response, his tongue pushing into your mouth to shut you up.

Your hands followed their own curious whims. Those pecs that you had gotten an eyeful of several times felt warm and firm under your touch. Your palm dragged down the ripples of his abs, gently landing over the front of his pants. You gasped feeling him harden under your touch for the first time, eliciting a low growl from him in return. His hips pushed forward in frustration, eager for more. You allowed him some relief, undoing his belt and pants, cautiously reaching inside. Your eyes widened.

“Holy shit,” you muttered as you grabbed around his length, your hand suddenly feeling quite small. He looked you dead in the eye, that familiar cocky smirk and twinkle returning to his face.

“Come on,” he flashed you a wicked grin. “You knew it had to be big.” You laughed at his boldness, which only inspired him to double down. “I know how to use it too.”

“That’s some awfully big talk.” You already had goosebumps from your head to your toes, but you weren’t going to let him know that just yet. You would make sure he worked for it. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“It’s not the only thing I know how to use.”

He captured your mouth in a gentle, chaste kiss as he used one hand to pull up the hem of your dress. His other hand snuck under the skirt, slowly dragging it across your skin. Rough and calloused from racing, they felt tantalizingly delicate.

“I was going to prove it, but it looks like I already convinced you.” He drew little spirals around your clit over your panties, barely applying any pressure. You bit your lip and looked up to the ceiling, praying for relief from the building tension. To your chagrin, his hand began to pull away.

“No. Please,” was all you could muster, your brain searching for more eloquent words that escaped you.

“Please what?” You reached for his crotch, hoping the action would suffice as an answer, but he grabbed your wrist to pin it to the door. “You have to use your words.” You felt the words on his breath that seeped through your skin.

“Please touch me.” Frustrated, you used your free hand to try to get him to fully take your dress off which was only getting in the way. He obliged, releasing your other hand to get a hold of the fabric. You put your arms up as he gathered the material over your head. Throwing the garment aside, he pulled away slightly to observe you for a moment. His eyes widening as they moved down your frame, trying and failing to hide his growing smirk.

“Do you always wear pretty underwear when you close a deal? Or are these for me?” He played with the pink lacy textile between his fingers, admiring how they accentuated the contour of your waist and hips.

“Both,” you gasped as he dragged a finger down your front. It passed over your clit, down to the fabric covering your entrance, smiling feeling how embarrassingly soaked you already were through the thin material.

With a chaste kiss on the cheek, he proceeded to leave a trail of kisses down your neck, chest, stomach, until he reached the hem of fabric. He continued over the garment, bypassing the spot he knew you needed him to your inner thigh. The gentle touches and the scruff of his beard almost tickled, panting as he moved down your body.

He looped his thumbs around the sides of your thong, pausing to look up hopefully for permission. You nodded with lidded, lustful eyes. He couldn’t hide his dimples and he continued to tease, dragging your panties slowly down your legs, taking care to pick up each foot to get you out of them. Your heart swelled as you observed him treating you so delicately, like a fragile porcelain doll. His trail of kisses started again from the bottom, beginning at your ankle, to the inside of your knee and again to your upper thigh until he reached an apex.

“Hold on.” You weren’t sure what he meant at first. Then without warning, he grabbed your hip and threw your opposite leg over his shoulder, finally diving into your center. Your hands instinctively found their way to his head to stabilize yourself, accidentally letting out a yelp in the process which soon after turned into a low moan as his tongue swirled slow circles around your clit. “You taste so fucking good,” he mumbled into your skin.

The vision of him on his knees fully clothed, contrasted with your nakedness enhanced his touch and sent you spiraling. Your hands raked through his gorgeous curls as he lapped you up. The pressure he applied gradually increased, culminating to him inserting a finger in you, then two. You slapped a hand over your mouth as the pressure pooled and he found his rhythm with his tongue and fingers. He knew you were close when your legs started to shake and squeezed around him. The waves came crashing over you as you bucked your hips erratically. He removed his fingers so that he could stabilize you, but his mouth never stopped.

He finally put your other leg back on the ground when your hips slowed and stood up. Your legs almost buckled from underneath you but he caught you before you could fall, lifting you to walk to the bed.

You watched him carry you wordlessly, your brain still short circuiting from your orgasm only knowing enough to wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. Not because you thought he’d drop you, but because you wanted to be as close to him as possible. It still wasn’t close enough.

He sat himself down on the bed with you landing in his lap, legs still wrapped tightly. There had never been a time where the two of you have been in the same room and exchanged so few words. You continued to stare at each other, simply amazed to be in the same space and sharing skin after three long anguished months of resisting forbidden fruit.

Your gaze fell to his swollen lips that you desperately wanted to taste again, still shiny with your essence. His hand pressed up your back until he grabbed a fistful of hair, bringing you in fervently for another kiss. It was the kind of kiss that enveloped you, that turned your legs to water and caused currents in you to flow creating bountiful energy that begged for release. Your hands roamed from his shoulders, down his chest and abs to the hem of his shirt. The two of you pried it off together and he threw it somewhere on the floor. Your mouths met again gluing your torsos together, your currents crashing in a tidal wave of electricity and emotion.

You unwrapped your legs to straddle him, lightly pushing him backwards. He pulled you with him as you both fell into the bed, smiling into each other and little giggles filling the air. You rolled your hips over him, annoyed with the layers that still separated you from the waist down. You reached down, sloppily pushing at his pants to demonstrate your displeasure. He understood your message, weaving his arms past you to finish the job and shimmying his legs until they were off. You reached down the waistband of his boxer briefs, teasing your fingertips just underneath but not going further. It thrilled you to feel his muscles tense underneath your touch. He nipped your bottom lip when your hand moved further south, and you could feel his jaw clench.

He pulled away suddenly, and you couldn’t place the look on his face which made you nervous.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! It’s just…” his hand cupped the side of your face, caressing your cheek. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

Your heart swelled at how delicate he was with you, at how much he cared. But you didn’t want to be treated delicately. And now you almost felt bad about how much you’d teased him up to this point. Almost.

“Do you know,” you said sitting up, your hand ghosting over the outline of him through his boxer briefs, “I had a sex dream about you. Right before the Japanese Grand Prix.”

“No,” he ground out.

“You had my legs spread on a desk in some McLaren office.” You felt his whole body clench again as you slid the last piece of clothing down his legs. As though the thought hadn’t crossed his mind every time you admonished him for not paying attention or not taking things seriously in those early days. The frequency of course increased, to every time you bent over, smiled, or played with your hair, to simply existing. For once, he was the one blushing and you found it entirely endearing. “I’ve literally dreamt of fucking you for three months. I want you and I need you. Now.”

His pupils dilated at your words, and his hands moved possessively from your face down to your ass where his fingers sank into your skin hoping to mark and keep you. He tried to find the words to communicate how badly he wanted and needed you too, but blood was no longer flowing to his brain and no words seemed perfect enough for you. His shaft twitched against his toned stomach, eager for your touch. You relieved him, wrapping your full hand around his impressive length pumping up and down a few times, your gentle grip slowly firming with each stroke.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. His hand found your waist and you felt his grip tighten as you continued. You slithered down his body until your mouth aligned with him, spitting over his tip. He felt voyeuristic watching the saliva drip from your tongue. You looked up to see him gripping the sheets for dear life.

“Is that alright?” He nodded fervently.

“Only if you want to,” he croaked out. Bless this man, who just wanted to make sure you were comfortable even though it looked like his eyes were going to roll back into his head.

“I do. Very much,” you insisted. You dragged your tongue slowly from the base of his shaft to his tip. “You made me feel good.” Lick. “Now I want to make you feel good.” His shallow breath hitched when you finally took him in your mouth. Your eyes watered as he hit the back of your throat, you looked up to make sure he was still breathing. You found him slack jawed, but eyes full of lust. He brought a hand to your head. You prepared your gag reflex expecting him to force your rhythm, but instead simply pushed your hair out of your face.

“Fuck, you look so good.” You felt the slickness spread between your thighs at his praise, adding a hand to his base where your mouth couldn’t quite reach. You increased your speed, moaning into him. He happily absorbed the vibrations, reflexively bucking his hips into you. You tasted salty precum at his tip and could tell he was close.

“W-wait,” you slowed your pace but didn’t remove him as you looked up again. “I don’t want to finish yet. Not like this.” You slowly pried yourself off him, finishing with a satisfying *pop* as you released him. You saw his chest rise and fall at an alarming rate. He helped pull you up, interlocking your fingers in the process.

“What do you want?” you asked, knowing you would do whatever came out of his mouth without hesitation.

“Grab my jeans?” You couldn't hide your skepticism, but nonetheless begrudgingly left the nicest seat you’ve ever known to find his pants somewhere on the floor. You resumed your spot on his lap as he frantically searched his pockets, finally locating his wallet and fished out a condom. Everything else found its way back to the ground. Eyes wide, he maintained a death grip on the condom. “You’re sure?”

You smiled. You thumbed his jawline as you brought your foreheads together. “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.” It took him about four seconds to process what you said, but when he did closed the gap between your lips in a messy and desperate kiss that sucked the air out of you. It dizzied him too and only pulled away when he remembered he had to open the condom. You leaned back to give him some space as he struggled with the wrapper. His brow furrowed in frustration as he tried to steady his shaky hands.

“I swear I’m usually a lot smoother than this,” he muttered. You bit back a laugh.

“I believe you.”

“You just make me nervous,” he admitted, uncharacteristically bashful. “In case you couldn’t tell.”

“Hardly noticed,” you said sarcastically, but reassured him with a giggle. “It’s very endearing, if it makes you feel any better.” You calmly grabbed it from him.

“It does,” he confessed as he let you take it from his hands. Without breaking eye contact, you ripped the wrapper easily with your teeth. You felt him twitch under you as you wriggled yourself against him in content, allowing him to feel your arousal. He swallowed thickly. “Where did you learn that?”

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out,” you smirked. You moved off him for a moment, and he took the chance to stroke himself a few times, watching you absentmindedly. How your hair, now perfectly tousled, fell around your shoulders. How gravity worked miracles on the swell of your breasts. How your waist sloped into your hips and thighs. You patiently presented the condom back to him and he used all his concentration to take it from you to roll it down his length. He looked at you hopefully when he was done and you rewarded him with another kiss, your hair cascading around the two of you creating a protective curtain around your new little intimate universe.

You both watched as you eased yourself onto his cock, voyeurs of your own lust. Your moans harmonized as he bottomed out. You felt deliciously stretched and full. Complete. You began slow to adjust to his size, teasing him in the process with your agonizing pace, rising up to the point of almost dismount before sinking back down again engulfing his full length.

“Does this feel good?” you cooed, already knowing the answer as you swirled your hips with him bottomed out inside you, tormentingly slow.

“Yes. Fuck yes,” he groaned as he palmed your ass. “You’re so fucking tight.” You dragged a hand from his chest, down the ripples of his abs, towards where the two of you intercepted. With his jaw clenched, he sank his fingers in your hips, trying unsuccessfully to steady them as you continued to rock. “You look so good with me inside you.”

He lifted his hips to meet yours as proof of his enjoyment, the new angle jolting you forward slightly. A moan escaped as you found a rhythm as you rolled your hips back and forth, itching for the friction of his skin against your already swollen clit. Your pace quickened as his length hit that sacred spot deep in your core over and over. The bounce of your tits mesmerized him. Unable to resist, his mouth found a nipple, flicking his tongue back and forth over the sensitive peak that had you seeing stars.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you whimpered. You felt the pressure pool and coil in your lower abdomen. Your eyes closed when he grabbed the back of your head, gently pulling your hair.

“Look at me. I want you to look at me when you come.” All you could do was nod in response, worried that any sound you might let out at that point would alert the whole building. It was impossible to look away from his gaze even if you wanted to. You bit your lip as the pressure continued to build, hypnotized by the repetition and sensory overload. You rocked back onto him a final time before reaching your release, collapsing on forward onto his chest and his name falling off your tongue like a prayer as your hips slowed and stuttered.

Yes

Daniel

He’d never heard a more beautiful sound before. His mouth caught yours again, absorbing the moans that continued as you rode out your orgasm. He wrapped an arm around your lower back to pull you flush to his chest and began to upthrust, building to an excruciating pace. You held onto his shoulders for dear life.

“W-what are you doing?” You knew you sounded pathetic, barely able to form the sentence. He smirked.

“Getting you to Number Three.”

“I can’t,” you whined. He pulled you close and rolled the two of you over, taking care to remain buried inside of you. You gasped at the sudden movement, eyes wide when you landed on your back.

“Three’s my lucky number.” He gave a few slow pumps before pushing himself up to spread your legs. He admired the change in your face at each new angle, each expression more perfect than the next. He brought his thumb down to your clit and watched you whither under his touch. With the new view he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. “Don’t worry, I’ll do the work this time.”

You couldn’t argue with his logic. The only response you could give were incantations of profanities as he fucked you into the mattress and his gentle finger rubbing the sensitive nub just above where your bodies joined. He glistened as beads of sweat formed over his body, enhancing the contours of his muscles with each thrust. It was all too much. You felt your walls begin to clench again, your body eagerly anticipating its reward.

Daniel saw your mouth mold into an “o”, the slight twitch of your muscles, and felt the pressure that was building inside you. He prayed you were close knowing that his stamina would soon run out.

“That’s it. Come for me.” Daniel counted his blessings that he should be so lucky to have a front row seat, not once, not twice, but three times to your orgasms. You were so beautiful. Too beautiful. He couldn’t stop himself from chasing his own high as he watched you twist and contort under him. His thrusts became more frantic and erratic as your moans filled the room until he spilled into you, lurching forward but catching himself before fully collapsing on top of you.

Finally the motions stopped, except for the quickened rise and fall of your chests as you both tried to catch your breath. You blinked at each other a few times, still unable to move or think. Daniel broke the silence.

“Holy shit.” You couldn’t help the stupid grin that formed. You pressed a hand to his cheek just to make sure he was still real.

“That good, huh?” He begrudgingly began to move and pulled out of you, rolling over to your side. He propped himself on his elbow and looked down on you, absentmindedly drawing patterns on your soft belly.

“I was just going to ask if you wanted to grab dinner. But that was way better.” You both laughed as you nuzzled into each other, still peppering the other with butterfly kisses and holding onto the belief that the world was the size of a queen-size bed.

Eventually he got up to go to the bathroom. As soon as he left your side, the intrusive thoughts returned and you began mentally preparing yourself for the inevitable goodbye. You watched silently as he searched the floor for his underwear, blissfully unaware of your inner turmoil. This was fun you repeated in your head. It will be a good story to tell you tried convincing yourself.

He came back to bed and snuggled up against you.

“Now what?” he asked innocently. You squinted back at him, laughing slightly.

“That’s an awfully loaded question, don’t you think?” He seemed confounded for a moment.

“I mean, I was just thinking we could get food now? What were you thinking?” You forgot that men could be such simple creatures. Maybe it was the audacity that allowed them to go about life blissfully unaware or unconcerned about hypothetical what if’s and unintended consequences of their actions. But for now, maybe you needed to think like a man too. You didn’t need to solve all the world’s problems in one night. Maybe all you needed was to just enjoy whatever this was for whatever time was left before you got on a flight tomorrow to return to reality.

“Yeah, I guess I worked up an appetite.” He broke into a wide grin. He grabbed your face to bless you with a kiss on the forehead before fetching the menu.

“Great. I’ll order us room service.”

Your eyes fluttered open the next morning. Scenes from the night before played on a loop in your head. Sweaty bodies entangled in a sea of limbs. In your experience, men who were that charismatic and that good looking rarely knew what to do with the bodies they had been blessed with. And yet…

You were afraid to open your eyes, not ready to let go of the memory that brought a smile to your face so you kept them closed a bit longer. Instead, you extended a hesitant hand to the other side of the bed expecting to feel the warm body of your evening companion, but you felt nothing. You reluctantly opened your eyes.

“Dan?” Your voice was soft and hoarse from sleep. Nothing. Maybe he hadn’t heard you.

“Daniel?” You tried again, a bit louder this time. Still no response.

You slowly got out of bed half asleep, the line between your dreams and the real world still not quite defined. You zombie-walked to the window, delicately drawing back the blackout curtains of the hotel room. You winced as your eyes adjusted to the natural light. Your clothes were still on the floor where they had been unceremoniously discarded, but the other outfit that had kept them company had disappeared. Your heart fell.

“Daniel?” you tried one last time, voice cracking slightly. Maybe he was in the bathroom. Maybe he had eaten something bad yesterday. You knocked on the door before cautiously opening it. You stood in the doorway a beat too long, unable to move from the empty space. He had been so convincing, so charming, and you fell for it. You had been so guarded and careful, you thought you had sniffed out any unsavory motives and you still were left feeling used and abandoned.

You blinked back tears before they could fall, hiding your defeat from no one in particular in the privacy of your hotel room. You wiped your eyes, chugged a glass of water, for some masochist reason put on your Enchante sweatshirt and got back into bed. It was still early, maybe you could sleep another few hours before you had to get ready to go to the airport. Maybe that sleep would help you forget and ease the overwhelming humiliation and melancholy that fell over you.

As you began to drift off, a noise at the door startled you awake. You realized it was the sound of the door key and grabbed sheets to cover yourself quickly, unsure what else to do.

“I’m not ready for housecleaning!” you yelled uncertainly, praying it was in fact hotel staff and not a burglar.

“Hey hey hey, it’s just me. Good morning to you too.” You slowly peaked your head from under the covers, shocked at the sound of the reassuring, achingly familiar Australian accent. The driver stood in the foyer, his hands overflowing with bags and precariously balancing two coffee cups. You sat up a bit more as you processed the sight in front of you.

“What-?” you trailed off. He seemed nervous, but a smile never left his face.

“I, uh, wanted to surprise you with breakfast. There’s a little place down the street. But you looked so peaceful sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you, so I grabbed your room key. But I realized when I got there I didn’t know what you liked, and my phone died, so I kind of got one of everything…I hope that’s ok. I didn’t mean to scare you –“

As he rambled, you had silently gotten out of bed to grab the cups from his hands, placing them on the table along with the insane amount of bags, one by one. With all obstacles removed, you enveloped your arms around his neck and stamped his lips with a kiss. He was surprised by the sudden gesture but returned it eagerly, his hands still familiarizing themselves with you. He blinked a few times when you pulled away.

“I promise I will get breakfast for you every day if you like it that much.” You laughed with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, and you looked away.

“I thought you left,” your small voice shrank in embarrassment that you had jumped to conclusions so quickly. You couldn’t bring yourself to explain further.

But you didn’t have to. He wrapped you in a bear hug crushing you into his chest, his lips nuzzled into the crown of your head, his body heat invigorating you.

“I’m sorry, I should have texted or let you know where I was.”

“No, it’s silly. I was being overdramatic.”

“It’s not silly. And I’m not going anywhere.”

“But what does that mean?” you asked in exasperation. He pulled away and looked at you in disbelief that you would even ask such a question.

“What do you want it to mean?” You bit your lip in frustration.

“Daniel, don’t be obtuse. In a couple of hours we’re getting on different planes to go to opposite sides of the world.”

“And?”

“We’re not going to see each other.”

“Well then it’s a good thing I know people with private jets.”

“I still have to work.”

“I’ll come to you.”

“My apartment is small.”

“I can pack light.”

“What if you meet someone else when we’re not together?” He let out an irritated sigh.

“I don’t want to meet anyone else.”

You were stumped. He could read the confused look on your face and gently grabbed the sides of your shoulders. “You know, for someone so smart you can be really dumb sometimes.” You crossed your arms.

“Hey!”

“I know it’s hard for you to believe for some reason, but I want to give this a real shot. I want to take you on a proper date. See what things look like when I’m not paying you to spend time with me.”

You looked down, feeling a little guilty about how much you doubted him. You couldn’t help that you were risk averse by nature.

“Did you just… Socratic method me to get me to understand that you like me?”

“Did it work?”

“Let’s just say you have a bright future as a law school professor if this whole driving thing doesn’t work out.” You paused for a moment, still trying to wrap your head around everything. “So… you really want to give this a go?” He rolled his eyes.

“Is it really that hard to believe?”

“I mean – yeah, a little. The world that you operate in is just so much different than mine. Your world consists of beautiful people.”

“You’re beautiful,” he retorted. You blushed but didn’t let the comment throw you off your stride.

“You know what I mean. Your world is glamorous and luxurious. My world is average. It’s a lot of take-out, it’s late nights on the phone with Joe, it’s boring suits, it’s work - without the recognition and without the spotlight. You could have any actress or model or singer in the world and you pick me. Can you blame me for being skeptical?” His face fell slightly as he realized that you didn’t think your shine was bright enough for him. But it was quickly replaced with something mischievous.

“What are you talking about? You’re a singer,” he said matter-of-factly. You rolled your eyes.

“You’ve unfortunately seen me do karaoke, we both know that’s a lie.”

“Your morning shower performances beg to differ.” He laughed at the terror that flashed before your eyes as you threw your hands over your mouth, but quickly reassured you. “I’ve listened to you every morning since we got here. It’s the best part of my day, until I see you.” He pried your hands from your face, holding them in his. “And the last thing you are, is average. Can we please just try?”

You bit your lip, unable to contain the blush spurred by his words of affirmation. The squeeze of his hands on yours caused the dormant butterflies in your stomach to flutter their delicate wings and rise to your chest. A comforting warmth enveloped you, it rose to your cheeks and the answer was there plain as day on your face for him and the world to see. No, it couldn’t hurt to try.

“Only if… you’ll do a duet with me.” After holding his breath for what seemed like eternity, his joy and happiness hanging in the balance waiting for your response, he broke into a toothy grin that used every dimple and laugh line on his face. Without skipping a beat, he threw you over his shoulder and made his way to the bathroom leaving a trail of your giggles in his wake.

“I’m ready for my audition.”

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soapybutt17 · 10 months

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How It Began

Summary: Mission has gone south and Price was left with no other choice but to regroup in his home. There, the rest of the team were met with a wife that they didn't know the Captain had, but a Lieutenant they were all too familiar with. Character: John Price x F!Wife!Reader. Simon "Ghost" Riley. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick. John "Soap" MacTavish. Word Count: 3,059 Chapter Warnings: Mention of Blood and Injuries. Allusion to Smut. Pregnancy. Ghost and Gaz being mentally scarred(?).

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Soap knew it was bad when even their Captain was agitated. A mission gone wrong and they were once again on the run in the process. With just the weapons and supplies they carried, they had nothing that could truly help them hide for the time being. Kate was still unable to find them a safe house for the time being.

So the Captain had decided that it was best to bring everyone to his own home for the time being instead. But even with such information, the man was on edge. The hour drive to the forest had been quiet, the sound of the car and the nature around them being the only thing killing the silence of the confined space.

Eventually, Soap had caught sight of a home, at the outskirts of the city, away from the prying eyes of the world. A true representation of their Captain. A two stories home, with a vast yard.

From the closing distance, Soap could hear the sound of dogs barking at their arrival. His eyes peered towards the Captain, slowly the weight on his shoulders were lifted and a ghost of a smile had appeared on his face. There was just something so majestic about finally being home—even if the circumstance was not on anyone’s favor.

“Keep yourselves in check, don’t want to scare the missus.” Price had pointed out once the car was put in a stop.

“Missus?” Soap couldn’t hide his own surprise.

Since when has the Captain been married? The man had shown no indication of it, not even in the rare instances of conversation of their lives away from the field. Soap has never caught sight of even a wedding ring on the man’s finger. But then again, it was best in this time and age to keep it a secret, to avoid any unnecessary action taken against his loved ones.

“I’ve got a life away from the field, MacTavish.” Price chuckled before finally slipping out of the car with the rest of them following behind.

The sound of the dogs now grow louder, further agitating Soap in the moment. He hated dogs, but he was nothing more than an unofficial and much unneeded guest in his Captain’s own home. Walking closer to the door with Ghost and the injured Gaz, the door was opened and the last person he would have ever see be present.

“Lieutenant?”

It was the fifth member of the team that just months ago was put on leave for reasons still unknown to him—until now. He was all too certain why you were now put on leave. The visible bump was evident enough at it was.

“What happened?” You were quick to take hold of Gaz as he continued to stagger from the bullet wound on his leg. Your eyes peered towards the Captain in question.

“Mission gone south, Kate can’t find us a safe house here, so I thought it was best to bring everyone here to regroup.” Price explained, immediately wrapping his arms around you and the pieces finally fit together.

Everything makes sense now.

“Come in, I know the mission was a nightmare. I’ll make you three some tea and something to eat.”

Pulling away from Price, you had went inside and they were once again surrounded with the silence.

“So you and the Lieutenant?” Soap inquired.

“We prefer to keep our relationship a secret. But circumstance made it impossible to keep it a secret anymore.” He sighed, escorting everyone inside.

“Hold still for me, okay?” Your heart was breaking, having to see Gaz in so much pain but it was for his own benefit. The sooner the bullet is removed and the wound is cleaned up, the sooner it is he could begin recovering.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Gaz tried to keep on a strong face, but his deathly grip on Soap’s legs made it more evident the excruciating pain that he was in.

With bated breath, you finally tended to Gaz’s wound, pulling out the bullet and stitching him right up. All the while, you could hear Gaz’s heavy breathing and Soap’s attempt at distracting him the best way he knew how—through humor.

“Good as new, Sergeant.” You beamed at him, patting him on his uninjured leg before standing up, wincing at the sudden numbness on your legs for sitting for too long.

“Careful.”

You smiled towards your husband as he made his way towards you and helped you upon your feet. You looked at him, cupping his cheeks in appreciation before your head turned right back to Gaz and Soap that were both staring at you. It seems your husband has yet to truly explain about your relationship.

“Tea?” You offered.

“Got it covered, Ma’am.” It was Ghost that muttered, placing the tray of tea on top of the coffee table that still had the surgical equipment and bloodied gauze you’ve used.

Without even asking, Ghost was quick to discard most of the trash and you looked right back to your husband, a proud look on his face at the masked man’s actions.

“We’re in our home, I think we could drop the formalities.” You pointed out to which earned a blush from all three men. Each and every single one of them looking at your husband for his approval on this.

“Happy wife, happy life.” He chuckled, kissing you on the temple before finally letting you go to check on Gaz’s wound.

For the next few hours, you had tried—and failed to be a good host to the three visitors in your home, but if it wasn’t your husband, it was Ghost or Soap interrupting you and doing whatever you had planned for you. It was growing frustrating, but you knew they meant well given your state.

“Are you three really sure you’d be fine sleeping here?”

You frowned at the setup that laid before you in the guest room, Gaz was laying on the bed all on his own because of his injuries while Ghost stayed on the foldable mattress you had laying around and Soap had decided to take position on the coach.

“This is more than enough for us, Ma’am.” Soap reassured with a grin, before a pillow was thrown right onto his face from Ghost.

“Let’s get you to bed.” Turning your husband was hot on your tail, a frown resting on his lips as he knew perfectly well that you should be sleeping at this hour by now.

“Good night, you three. Just give us a knock if you need anything.” You reminded them.

“I hope not.” Your husband muttered before guiding you back into your shared bedroom for the night.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick had seen and heard so much atrocities in his life in the military. But in the chaos of it all, there were some silver lining he constantly looks into, one of which was the found family he had found in the task force. A father in the form of Captain John Price and a mother in the form of you, the warm and understanding Lieutenant, older brothers in the form of Ghost and Soap.

With said family, he should have expected the full experience out of it. One of which was hearing fornication between his parents in the other room. But it was still a scarring experience to hear it so close and so explicitly.

With the ache still lingering on his legs, he would rather see himself getting shot wherever it was possible instead of hearing the moans and grunts from the other room. Fucking bedroom had thin walls and he could fucking hear everything. From the Captain’s grunts, to your whimpers, and even more traumatizing was the sound of skin slapping. Vividly he was hearing his nightmare coming to life.

“Fucking hell.”

Gaz found himself jumping at the sound of Ghost’s voice, peering down on the floor, the masked Lieutenant was having the same predicament as him. The man shared him a look both of them turned towards the snoring Soap on the coach, unaware of the noise they were both hearing.

“We hear nothing and we will say nothing in the morning.” Ghost instructed.

“I hear nothing, I know nothing.” Gaz sighed laying back onto the bed, and tried his best to find sleep in the confinements of the room he was more than happy to rest in for the time being.

Slowly, the noise slowly died down and they were enveloped in the post-coitus silence of the other room. But the image somehow running through his head, what his father-figure and mother-figure were literally doing in the other room.

“Blood fucking hell.” Ghost muttered once again, sharing the same sentiment as him at the moment.

One of the things that John had enjoyed being home was waking up to you. The way the sunlight washed over your features, the glow and plumpness of your cheeks because of the pregnancy, and the way you held onto him like a koala. He missed it all and he would do anything and everything to be able to bottle this moment up with you.

As much as he loved watching you sleep, he loved it even more to see you awake, in his arms, loving him as much, if not, even more than he loved you.

He began with taking your scent in with his nose against the crook of your neck, before his hands found their way to the dips of your waist, the supple naked flesh that he loved to hold against him in the coldest of nights. His ears picked up your whimpers, last nights romp ended with your legs shaking and the satisfied smile on your lips as they peppered his bearded cheeks with your kiss.

“Five more minutes.” You whispered, voice raspy with sleep.

Before he could offer something more than just laying in bed, the sound of Soap’s boisterous laughter shattered the peace inside the bedroom before a sudden realization popped in both of your heads.

They heard. Both of you were certain. The shared horror in both of your faces was much evidence of your realization.

“Let’s get up, before they destroy the kitchen.” You muttered standing up in all your naked glory.

A smile rested on John’s face at the sight of you. The pregnancy did wonders into your body. The fullness of your body as you were growing another human being inside of you. The stretch marks that painted your skin that you were beginning to hate but John loved all the more because of what it had symbolized.

“Another time, Captain.” You teased him slipping into your undergarments, John’s sweatshirt and the only pair of shorts that could fit you in your growing body.

“It seems so.” He grunted finding himself standing up in all his naked glory, walking straight into you and pulling you in for a kiss, the first of many kisses he was certain he would give you for the day. “Good Morning, My Love.”

“Morning to you too, Morning Breathe.” You playfully teased pushing him away before making your way towards the bathroom to freshen up. “You handle the boys, I will commit a war crime if they mess the kitchen up after I cleaned it the other day.” You warned.

It was all the order John needed before he found himself putting on some clothes and making a beeline out of the bedroom to see the madness of the kitchen.

To Simon, he had always expected that something was going on between the Captain and the Lieutenant. Price had always been concerned for the team’s well being, but he could see past the avoidance that would occur between the both of you. The tension that was always palpable whenever you shared the same space. It was more than just two superiors interacting with each other, more than just a friendship that spanned longer than the creation of the Task Force. He knew sexual tension when he sees it.

So it wasn’t much of a surprise for him to know that you and the Captain had a relationship. It however, surprised him the progression of said relationship was more than he had expected—with a baby coming along the way. Now the resounding argument before your discharge was clear. You were forced back home for the sake of your baby and for Captain’s sanity.

“How’d you like your eggs, Lt?” Soap had inquired his attention solely on the egg he was frying.

“Scrambled.” He finds himself muttering.

He usually slept less than anyone else in the house right now, more than just his mental state, it was for the scarring that had occurred last night. Nothing fucks him up more than hearing his parent figure fucking in the middle of the night.

He could not admit that it scarred him more than all the atrocities he had seen and done in his lifetime.

“Steady on the mess,”

Simon finds himself tensing at the sound of the Captain’s arrival. Turning to look at the man, the all too evident signs of a fucked man was seen in the man. A look was shared between Simon and Gaz, and he was all the more grateful for the mask he still wore, how it was easy to hide the blush that he was certain painted his cheeks at the memories of last night.

“Morning, Captain.” Gaz had greeted with the tint still on his cheeks.

The Captain nodded with a grunt before he made his way towards the cupboard to get his own tea started. Simon could see the darkening bruises all over his Captain’s neck and it made all the sounds of last night a reality.

“Heard anything from Laswell, Ghost?” Price had inquired, with his back still face them at the table.

“Told us to head back to the base as soon as possible.” Simon found himself responding, finally looking away from the man, his eyes find themselves resting on the array of pictures that hanged on the wall.

“We prepare to leave after lunch then.”

“Yes Sir.”

At the sound of the chair being pulled, Simon’s gaze returned back to the Captain that now sat in front of him and Gaz.

“I know we have a lot of things we need to discuss—about my relationship and how we had agreed to keep things private until now.”

“It is no one’s business but your own, Sir.” Simon find himself reassuring the man, the evident stress lingered on the older man’s face. He looked older than what he really was but it was a given with the weight that he shoulders during mission.

“But it should have been addressed as my wife is also part of our team.”

At the mention of you, you had arrived, sweetly greeting everyone with a glow in your face since the last time that Simon saw you. Battered and bruises during your last mission, with tears streaking your cheeks before you had left and not even said a proper good bye.

“How’s the leg, Gaz?” You had inquired, patting the man on the shoulders before you strode towards the cupboard to get yourself a cup. The tea that Price has made already waiting for you.

“Doing good, Ma’am.” Gaz responded, cheeks once again returning to a bright shade before them.

“Scrambled eggs for you,” Soap had finally placed a plate of semi-scrambled eggs in front of Simon which he had grunted a thanks to. “And a couple of sunnies for everyone else just like you like ‘em.” He added placing the handful of eggs in front of everyone as well as practically a handful of bacon to go along with it.

Simon had watched you walk towards the Captain, placing a kiss on his cheeks before sitting beside him on the table. The smile that rested on the Captain’s face and the stress of the previous conversation gone temporarily.

“Did John finally tell you about our relationship?” You had inquired already knowing what the conversation had been about.

“I was getting to that.” Price quipped with a chuckle.

For the next hour or so, the conversation was about catching with what you had been doing, all the while the married couple explained how and when it all started between the both of you. How you both had decided it was in everyone including each other’s best interest to keep the relationship and marriage a secret to avoid unwarranted doubts of favoritism amongst everyone. But neither Simon nor Soap or Gaz truly cared if you two were in a relationship or married, it never hindered in missions together and it never will upon getting to know you both even more.

Before long, breakfast and a lavish lunch has ended and it was finally time for them to head back to the base to regroup. All the while, Simon had watched you cling to the Captain, any chance you could, you held onto him for dear life. The unshed tears in your eyes had the Captain slowly crumbling in his resolve.

“Stay safe you four, and I hope you three will visit on a much better circumstance.” You had remained by the front door, unable to truly glimpse close up how they would leave all over again.

“Yes Ma’am.” All three of them had agreed without hesitation.

Simon had watched the Captain pulled you in for a hug and a much needed kiss that had all three of them turning away to give you both a private moment. Snickers and hoots however were thrown in by Soap and it left Simon slapping him on the back of his head to stop.

“Alright, let’s move out.” At the Captain’s booming voice, everyone had now headed back to the car and drove off.

Heaviness filled the car, it was good they had a moment of peace in the Captain and the Lieutenant’s home, but they still had a mission to deal with.

“So, you and the Lieutenant ever plan on adding sound proof walls to your bedroom before we visit again?” Soap inquired and all Ghost and Gaz could do was groan at the new found awkwardness that now filled the car and the sheer embarrassment in the face of the Captain that chose to ignore Soap’s words.

Soap and his fucking mouth.

#John Price Smut #John Price One Shots #John Price Oneshot #John Price Oneshots #John Price fluff #john price headcanon #John Price x reader #john price x female reader

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overlysour · 1 year

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＃VARIOUS GENSHIN CHARACTERS♡ — THEM WHEN THEY’RE JEALOUS

VARIOUS GENSHIN MEN & WOMEN X READER ♡

Wanderer

He can’t help but want to savour your touches and smiles for himself but he knows he can’t keep you to himself.

You made an effort to interact with him, even with his big ego and judgemental comments. So why would you cheat on him?? What would you even get from that?

Also, his newly received anemo vision represented his freedom, so why would he take yours?

He would still be annoyed, probably rolling his eyes, glaring and overall being grumpy if he’s jealous, he’s not just gonna act like nothing is happening!

Might make a scene out of it… overall pretty petty even if you don’t get what you did wrong.

Probably ends up yelling at the person he’s jealous of after telling you someone needed help (did he throw an arrow at some stupid guy that stalks your neighbour? Yes! Was it just because he needed to distract you? Yes! (also partly because the neighbour wouldn’t shut up about how they have an admirer to you and he wanted attention)).

Aether

It really depends on the situation but he won’t act on what he deems to be unreasonable jealously. He thinks it’s unfair to act in that way when he’s been flirted with by many in front of you, though you still try not to react.

If he thinks it’s reasonable then he will act, just briefly though.

Would probably ask for help with a commission, muttering a sorry and making sure to give you a loving hug.

Understands the feeling of loosing someone very well so he’d want to still make it slightly obvious that you’re his and he’s yours.

Rosaria

Would likely threaten anyone making you uncomfortable in anyway.

If she’s just feeling jealous due to you speaking with someone closely then she absolutely won’t make a scene, though most likely asking who they were and what their relationship is with you.

Might make an excuse to walk off with you..

Overall chill but quick to threaten or drag you off.

Dottore

Doesn’t really come out of his lab much unless going to other nations for fatui missions so he wouldn’t really get the chance to watch you converse with others.

Though If he does get jealous then he’d be slightly colder to you then usual.

Petty as heck (much like many other characters but way more in a ‘I’m-gonna-kill-whoever-that-was’ type of way).

If you were his lover then he’d think high of you, meaning he’d think of stuff like ‘that measly brat doesn’t deserve someone like [Name]’

Wouldn’t make contact with the cause of his jealously, instead gaining small details about them just in case.

Quickly pulls you off, glaring at the probably already scared person.

Acts normal once away, might be the tiniest bit more affectionate.

Xiao

Understanding yet one to quickly go take out anger on any unsuspecting enemies he can find at that moment.

If it’s someone he trusts then he wouldn’t go let his anger out, instead opting to give you more affection then usual.

He doesn’t want to loose you, since he’s lost so many people over the years.

Though it wouldn’t to be death, he wonders if it’d make him feel worse knowing that he’d lost you to emotions.

Overprotective but watches from afar I guess??

Albedo

He’s well aware of human emotions but I think he’d be a little confused at first, like why was he jealous so easily? Also how is he feeling such intense feelings?

Treats it as an experiment on himself, though still making sure he’s keeping any more-than-friendly remarks off anyones tongues (he’d like to hope that you wouldn’t do that but he’s prepared to be a barrier between you two anyways)

Trusts you but won’t hesitate to send a cheeky smile at the person as he plants a kiss on your hand and you become increasingly flustered.

Ayaka

Absolutely makes no scene, she’d just feel a bit self-conscious.

If you give her lots of love then she’ll easily forget about it (though it may linger in her mind for a while no matter what).

Kind and collective, openly stating her worries with you if given encouragement or if you’re worried about her.

Venti

Honestly quite chill depending on what’s happening.

Though no matter the situation, he’ll butt in your conversation by kissing you and hugging your waist with an innocent smile.

Can be intimidating but would only ever act that way when no others can see him act like that, therefore nobody would believe the person and he’d be known as a cheerful and carefree bard!

Childe

Absolute child about it (pun not intended 😗).

He will hang onto your waist whilst he hugs your back as he glares at his source of jealously.

Acts like nothing happened afterwards, dragging you wherever suits him that he thinks you’d like.

Won’t really think about it again, only feeling the need to protect you from harm or people with the wrong intentions.

Diluc

Calm as long as it’s not much of a big deal, extremely understanding and not afraid to let people know that you two belong to each other only and any objections will be ignored.

If it’s a bigger deal then that, then he’ll keep his calm facade and act relatively normal and understanding but with a small loss of patience.

Worst case scenario, he’ll threaten them without a smile in sight.

Won’t pay much mind to what happened, only focused on perhaps kissing you on the cheek or hand a bit more.

Zhongli

A man that is genuinely not that easy to make jealous, seemingly always calm and knowledgeable.

If in a situation that he becomes jealous, he’ll kindly ask to speak with you and then express his feelings.

Would easily sort out any misunderstandings between you two.

To be continued. I will take requests on what characters people want included!

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saturnville · 3 months

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stolen moments, major john egan

pairing: major john "bucky" egan x black fem oc (amelia mae egan)

content: john manages to call amelia after not hearing her voice for weeks.

an: this was the top choice in the poll so far. I've been anxious to write so we knocked this off the list first lol. enjoy!

“Are you alright, Major?”

They’d just arrived at a new station. It smelled like sweat and fear. Men streamed throught the doors like a school of fish. Their deep voices shook the brick walls as their conversations bellowed throughout the building. Dozens of men struggled to keep their composure. He was one of them.

He was overwhelmed. Tired. Desparate. His clothes felt tight against his body. The scent of gasoline and fumes clung to his vest. His hat damp and chilled against his forehead. His shoes were coated in black soot.

John’s eyes caught the telephone in the corner of the station. It was secluded from the rest of the quarters, in a corner, protected by a frosted glass divider. John's shoes grazed the dirty floor as he strode purposefully towards the telephone.

“M’fine. Head in and get your rest. Long day in the morning.” He didn’t know how he was able to make out coherent sentences. Gale stepped in, noticing his friend’s disheveled state and guided the men to the resting quarters.

John’s shoes kissed the dirty floor as he stood long strides to the telephone. He shrugged off his backpack and slid it by his feet. His hands trembled as he plucked the phone off the hook and typed in the number he had engraved in his heart.

It rang. And rang. And rang. His heartbeat was in his ears. His nails scratched as the black paint around the phone as he succumbed to his anxiety. He sent a silent prayer to God above.

Then he heard it. “Hello?” John’s forehead tapped the frosted glass as he rested against it. Relief washed over him like a tidal wave. He’d never been particularly sensitive, but he was overwhelmed with emotion, good and bad, and hearing her sweet voice made his eyes well with tears.

The words were stuck in his throat and all he could release was a heavy sigh. That seemed to be enough for her to identify the caller. “Johnny?”

He shut his eyes. A lone tear fell from his eye. “Hey, Rosie.”

Amelia let out a soft cry. “Oh, thank God! I-I thought something happened to you; I hadn’t heard from you in weeks. Are you okay, where are you now? Is Gale alright, when are you coming…” His first instinct was to cut her rambling short, but the sound of her voice was the choir-like song his soul ached to hear.

He’d gone three weeks without hearing her voice. It was the most tortuous three weeks of his life. For 21 days, he survived by remembering the last words she said before they hung up, Whatever you do, do not die on me, do you understand? I love you, John. I love you. I love you. I love you. It kept his heart beating.

A small smile tugged on his lips. “I’m okay, baby, I promise. Things got a little rough; didn’t stay in one place too long. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I’m just happy to hear your voice…are you okay?”

His stomach churned at her question. A feeling of despair threatened to creep upon him. Thirty men lost. A plane in the middle of the ocean. An uneasy stomach and even more uneasy mental state. His head pounded, his body shook with unwanted adrenaline, and his hands craved the feeling of her hot skin. He was not okay.

“No,” he replied honestly, rubbing his eye with the stump of his palm. “I’m not okay but I will be. Especially because I get to talk to my favorite girl. Tell me about your day..”

He heard her heavy sigh. “Deflection won’t rid you of what you’re feeling.”

“Talking about it won’t do too much good, either. It’s…it’s hard, Rose. I just.” John’s jaw clenched as he struggled to articulate what he felt. “I just can’t talk about it right now, Amelia. If I do, I don’t think I’ll be able to keep it together.”

Silence stretched on, interrupted only by the sound of her shuffling on the other end. She was probably sitting at the edge of her bed. He imagined her, looking pretty in her long-sleeved pajamas and satin scarf, with a blanket tucked under her chin.

“Then how about this,” she started. “You make it home in one piece to tell me about it later, yeah?”

“Always making demands,” John laughed. The first genuine sound of joy he’d made all day. And it made her smile. So wide that her cheeks were sore and her dimples made an appearance. “But you’ve got a deal.” He readied himself to speak again, but a tap on his shoulder interrupted him.

Gale. Meeting with the CO in five minutes, he mouthed. John nodded. He ran a hand through his dirty hair. “Darlin’, I’ve got a meeting in five minutes; I’m sorry. If I don’t call in the morning, know I love you, alright?”

“I know. I love you, too. Don’t apologize. Just make it back to me.”

“Always.”

#saturnville #original writing #black!reader #black reader #major john egan x black!reader #major john egan x reader #major john egan #callum turner x black!reader #callum turner x black reader #callum turner x reader #callum turner #major john egan x amelia mae egan #mota #mota fanfiction #masters of the air #gale cleven #john egan #curtis biddick

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yousaveeveryonebutwhosavesyou · 16 days

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How to Talk to Someone Who is Struggling⁣

It can be tough to talk to someone who is struggling with their mental health. We want our friends and family to feel comfortable reaching out to us, but most people aren’t actually sure how to react when that happens. I’ve heard a lot of people express fears that they might say the wrong thing or even make the situation worse. And that’s valid. It took a lot of training for me to learn how to talk to suicidal and depressed people, and they just don’t teach those skills in regular school. But having those skills can save lives. ⁣

So if you’ve got a struggling person in your life and you’re not sure how to talk to them, remember:⁣

Don’t be afraid of using the word ‘suicide’. It’s a harsh word, and a lot of people are scared that talking about it directly might push someone to do it. It won’t. Suicidal people are thinking about suicide in explicit terms all the time; hearing the word out loud isn’t any worse than the things they’ve already been thinking. Using euphemisms and beating around the bush just makes it hard to have an honest conversation. Be direct. Say exactly what you mean. Ask your loved ones if they are thinking about killing themselves. Say the word suicide. It’s hard, but it’s important.⁣

Don’t make the conversation all about you. It is really, really tempting to jump in and tell a struggling person all about your own struggles with mental health in order to empathize with them. Don’t do it. Not right away. You might mean well, but when you launch into your own mental health struggles, you are suddenly putting the other person in a position where they have to comfort and empathize with you, when it should be the other way around. They don’t have the energy for that right now. Let them talk about themselves first. ⁣

Don’t have an intense emotional reaction to what they’re saying. This is really, really hard, but it’s important. When someone is telling you about their self-harm or suicidal thoughts, try to keep your face and your voice as neutral as possible. Offer empathy in a calm, comforting way, and avoid crying in their presence if you can. They are watching you closely to see what’s okay and what’s not okay to disclose; if they see you getting upset at what they’re saying, they won’t want to talk about it anymore. And once again, it puts them in a position where they have to stop and comfort you. ⁣

Don’t say “I know exactly how you feel”. Because you don’t. And hearing statements like this, even if they’re well-meaning, can come across as dismissive or patronizing. Even if you’ve been in a very similar situation, you can’t really know what it feels like to be someone else, or feel the pain they feel. Instead of saying “I know what you’re going through”, validate their pain and say “I can’t imagine what you’re going through” - because you can’t. ⁣

Don’t ask “why” questions. Asking questions that start with “why” automatically puts people on the defensive. When you ask “why do you feel that way”, it makes people feel like they have to justify themselves to you. Instead, ask “what are some of the reasons you feel that way?” This is a much more non-judgmental way to phrase things, and it allows people to explain what’s going on without feeling like they’re on trial. ⁣

Don’t be afraid of silence. When someone tells you something really heavy, sometimes you just won’t know what to say. That’s okay. A lot of the time, distressed people aren’t looking for comforting words - they just need someone to sit there in their pain with them, by their side. Silences are a natural part of intense conversations, and they’re important. Let them happen. And sometimes, a long silence gives someone the space to say the things they were afraid to say before. ⁣

Don’t try to “fix” the problem. When someone comes to you with a problem - their partner dumped them, they lost their job, they’re broke - it can be really, really tempting to just start hurling solutions at them. We’ll sign you up for dating sites! We’ll spruce up your resume! We’ll make you a budget! If the person reaching out to you wanted that kind of help, they would ask for it. If they’re reaching out to talk about their problems, they aren’t looking for practical solutions right now - they don’t need you to fix it, they need you to listen to them, understand how much they’re hurting, and sit by them when they cry. ⁣

Validate their feelings. Distressed people often feel that their emotions are ridiculous, or that they don’t “deserve” to feel sad because they are better off in life than other people. Remind them that they have a right to their own feelings. Confirm that, yes, their situation sucks and it’s okay for them to be upset about it. Never confirm suicidal feelings, but do let them know that their sadness or anger or shame is okay to feel, and they have a right to feel it.⁣

Offer resources only if they are okay with it. Pelting a suicidal person with unwanted pamphlets isn’t helpful. Even if you know a great mental health resource in your area, it’s important to ask if the person even wants resources, or feels comfortable reaching out to a resource. Always check in with the person’s comfort after providing a resource, and ask if you can help them to be more comfortable accessing this resource. If you gave them the name of a local mental health clinic, ask if they would like you to call the clinic for them, or accompany them to the clinic - offer whatever help you can, but don’t push resources, and always check in with their needs and comfort. ⁣

These tips aren’t perfect, and they won’t necessarily work for everyone - they are a guideline to get you started, and to feel more confident approaching struggling family and friends. Having intense conversations about mental health or suicide with a loved one can be overwhelming, and many people don’t feel prepared to have these conversations, even if they want to. Do your best. Even if you make mistakes, showing someone that you honestly care about them and you’re making an effort to be there for them can make a world of difference. Having an imperfect conversation is better than no conversation at all. ⁣

If you’re still having doubts about your ability to have these conversations, remember that there are helpful videos online that you can learn from, and you can always call suicide hotlines to get tips and reassurance about approaching a loved one you’re concerned about. At the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter how you have this conversation - it matters that you have it.

#mental health #mental health awareness #mental illnesses #depression #anxiety #bpd #cptsd #ptsd #bipolar #psychosis #panic disorder #schizophrenia

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1d1195 · 6 months

Text

Faking It (Part 2)

You can read the first part here: Faking It it wasn't a great first part in my opinion because I wrote it on my phone while falling asleep but a lot of you wanted more:

@gem1712 @sunshinextemptress94 @fairytale07 @cherry01 @daniizstyles @igave-so-manysigns

so here it is :)

~3.5k words

warnings: smut. a lot of it. good girl, praise kink, doggy, oral, 18+ only please.

“We don’t have t’do this right now,” he offered. Maybe the conversation should have happened first.

“Scared you can’t make me come?” She asked delight dancing in her eyes.

He glared at her. “Don’t.”

Harry was the only thing that was on her mind. She was lucky her autonomic nervous system oversaw things like breathing because if it required any thought, she was a goner. Harry was kissing her. Her best friend was nipping at her lips and asking for permission to let his tongue into her mouth without words. His hands were touching, caressing, and moving all over her sides. He pulled on her belt loops to get her hips closer to his, angling her so he fit snuggly between her thighs, and she could feel the hard bulge through both their clothing.

Fortunately, her autonomic nervous system also controlled her heart rate and prevented a full-blown cardiac episode. Although, she felt as if it was still close. Only Harry could mess up the automatic responses of her body with just a press of his hard length against her core. She moaned softly at the thought of it inside her.

“S’good,” he murmured breaking his mouth away from her lips to press a kiss to just below her earlobe. “Good girl,” he cooed. “Keep moaning. Gonna make y’cum so hard,” he promised.

The only brain cell that wasn’t obsessed with Harry managed to squeak out her worry. “Um... sometimes...it’s hard for me t’cum,” she whispered. It should have been awkward to say that out loud. But this was Harry. Her Harry. If it was another guy, she would have blushed and felt worse but...Harry was kissing her skin and making her think of all the things she wished he would do to her so many times. Whenever he wore those sparkly vests that showed off all his muscles while he danced on stage... It was unfair that he was so hot. Now he was there, kissing her whole body, promising he was going to make her see stars.

“Oh?” He mumbled into her throat as he kissed down over her collarbones, his fingers slipped under the hem of her shirt at the same time coaxing her out of the clothing. “So y’better not fake it,” he murmured reattaching his lips to her making her wonder why they never did this before. “If it takes all night, love,” his voice was sultry, but she could hear the kindness of her best friend whispering a promise to her. Hiding in his practically pornographic whispers. “No faking it,” he repeated. “Wanna feel y’cum on my fingers...on m’tongue...on m’cock,” he was nearly whimpering into her skin.

Of course, she was flushed. “Can... we go in the bedroom?” She whispered.

Harry didn’t give any vocal affirmation, but she was suddenly in the air, over his shoulder as if she weighed less than a bag of groceries. She giggled slightly and pinched his butt since it was right in front of her face. It sparked a low chuckle from him, and they were in his room. It smelled like the candle he got her for Christmas. The bed was made with the sheets he got her for her birthday. “Don’t know how long I wanted this, kitten,” he promised as he deposited her on the bed so gently. No longer a bag of groceries but a delicate vase that needed to be wrapped in paper for storage.

Harry’s muscles were going to break her mind. “Me too,” she whispered.

“Yeah?” He paused his movements, which were undoing the button and zipper of her jeans and he looked at her with that face she adored so much. It was her best friend. The person she didn’t feel embarrassed or weird around. He probably knew her every thought before she had it. Harry had a knack for knowing what she needed. “Didn’t know that.”

“How could I not?” She asked. “You’re...you,” if it were anyone else it would mean Harry Styles. Boy band. Singer. Small time actor. Celebrity.

But on her lips...it wasn’t. It was just Harry. The person she told everything and never hid from. The one that watched her throw up with the stomach bug and hold her while she sobbed over heartbreak so bad that she got snot all over his T-shirt and he didn’t even care.

Harry already wanted to be inside her so very badly. He imagined it so many times while on tour buses and in hotel rooms. His hand fisted around his cock pretending it was her warm body imagining what she would feel like when she sent him voice memos of her singing to plants. He fell so hard for her just watching her wash dishes on FaceTime with him while he struggled to fall asleep in a hotel room that didn’t feel like their cozy apartment—although the was sure it would if she were there with him. She told bad jokes like he did and always laughed at his. Even when she had already heard it. Her smile lit up the room.

The moment he saw her he didn’t get butterflies. There was no symphony of classical music. Instead, his heart rate slowed. There was this glow around her. Like an aura of sunlight backlighting her figure. It was his best friend. The person he never felt like a celebrity around. It was just her and Harry when they were together. It should have been so obvious. This should have happened ages ago. But right now, he wanted to ask her all the thoughts he didn’t know; she wanted this. Had wanted this for a while.

Maybe he should have stopped and asked her more. They would have all the time in the world. But he wanted to prove that he could make her cum and that no one—especially her—would fake it with him. There would be time for questions later. Harry was certain that he could do it all with her. Everything.

Harry’s lips were back on hers, his kiss languid now and she felt it vibrate through every cell in her body. Her toes tingled and she had her hands fisted into his hair and pulled him closer to her. His hands pulled her jeans down her thighs and off her legs. His fingers trailed slowly up her shin, and he hooked it over his hip as he dipped down to grind against her and just the pair of underwear separating her from his clothing.

“You’ve never seen me naked,” she reminded him as he tugged his shirt over his head.

“Uh...” he chuckled sheepishly. “Might have caught y’leaving the shower a few times.”

She gaped at him. “Harry!”

“Oh please, kitten,” he rolled his eyes. “Know y’saw me when m’drunk.” Her cheeks turned this beautiful shade of red and imagined the times Harry came stumbling in the apartment and almost immediately stripping in front of her. “Mmm...” He unbuttoned his own jeans. “S’what I thought.”

“I like what I saw,” she admitted.

“Should have told me,” he murmured and dipped back down to kiss the length of her neck. “I loved what I saw,” he promised. “Take your shirt off.”

She had no choice but to obey him. She tugged her bra with her shirt leaving her nearly totally bare in front of him. She watched his eyes roam over her. Again, she expected it to be uncomfortable, but it was as if it was the only thing that made any sense at all.

Harry was looking at her as if she was a sculpture in a museum. His gaze was heavy and warm. “I don’t want t’stop looking at you,” he murmured. “You’re gorgeous, kitten.”

It felt like someone had set her on fire. His skin was warm against her body, and she tried to remind herself that this was her actual life. It wasn’t one of her really good dreams. His boxers were thin—so were her panties—keeping very little between them. The last bits of fabric separating each other from where she wanted him most.

“No faking it.”

“Somehow, I don’t think it’ll be a problem,” she tilted her head back to give him more access to her collarbones. She wasn’t one to have a display of love bites, but she wanted him to suck her skin purple and bruised with a reminder that he was really going to make her cum.

“Kitten,” he pulled away from her. He pinned her hands beside her head, pushed himself to hover above her. His cross dangled from his chest. It felt like it was hypnotizing her.

But Harry looked at her... like... like he loved her. “Any time y’want to stop, you say it,” he warned her. “Promise me.”

The air in her lungs felt like it was choking her. “Promise,” she whispered.

“Don’t y’dare fake it,” he reminded her again and pushed to the side of her body to tug his boxers off. She tried not to stare but he was so long and firm. It was impossible not to look.

“I can’t,” she spoke before she thought about what she was saying.

He smirked and looked down at her panties separating him from where he wanted to be most. “D’you have an attachment t’these?” He asked his finger dipping into the elastic of the half-lace, half-spandex fabric. She shook her head. “Good,” he murmured and ripped the hole he spotted in the lace when he pulled her pants down her legs earlier.

Oh, there was no way she would need to fake it.

“Gonna make y’cum so hard, kitten,” he promised bringing his mouth to the inside of her thigh and pressing wet, warm kisses on her soft skin. He was losing his mind being so close to where he wanted to be most. “Where’s y’cactus?” He asked teasingly.

She was gone. Harry’s breath was so close to the apex of her thighs. She was aching. He ripped her underwear off. His question didn’t even register in her clouded mind. She arched toward him wanting his mouth between her legs more than she ever wanted anything.

“Kitten,” he hummed his nose brushing against her sensitive thighs. She wanted to close her legs around his head. “Asked y’something.”

“What?” She asked.

He chuckled, his breath torturing her body in ways she never imagined. “Cactus.”

“No...” she shook her head. “Please no,” she whimpered. She didn’t want that. She wanted Harry. Wanted his lips on her and his cock inside her. She wanted him and only him.

“Just in case, love,” he promised. “Gonna take care of you, promise,” he kissed the inside of her legs. “Mmm...” he sighed. “Please, kitten,” he begged.

“Fucking hell,” she whispered and reached blindly behind her pillows and pulled the vibrator from the pillowcase and tossed it beside them on the empty space of her bed.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he moaned and pressed his lips to her dripping hole.

She gasped and arched immediately into his face, and he gripped the outside of her hips so hard they would certainly bruise. He was sinfully good at it. It felt like he knew exactly what he was doing. How on earth could he write a song about someone faking it? She was going to cum in seconds. His tongue dipped perfectly between her folds and pressed into spaces she didn’t know could feel so good. He slipped further up and flicked his tongue against her clit so expertly it felt like his mouth belonged between her legs.

“Feel like y’part of m’body,” he murmured into her thigh while he took a moment to breathe. The cool air made her spin as well as the words that came from his lips. She grabbed fistfuls of his curls and tugged him back to her center. “Y’like that, kitten?” He asked against her sensitive skin.

“Yes,” she whimpered. She couldn’t even give into the teasing in his voice. She couldn’t manage any sort of flirting. All she wanted was his mouth to lick her until she couldn’t move.

“Good girl,” he whispered as he sucked her clit between his lips so he could focus his tongue’s attention on the little bundle that would drive her mad. She keened and whimpered tugging on his hair. Her heels dug into his back as she tried to get him closer to her even though it was impossible. He couldn’t get closer. “Y’taste like heaven, kitten,” he murmured. He felt drunk on her. He would stay there forever. Even with the feeling of how hard he was had him rutting against her comforter. It was worth it. Just to smell her, taste her, kiss her most sensitive skin and lick every part of her that deserved the utmost attention. “S’good, baby,” he cooed. “Good girl,” he repeated as she pulled his hair harder. “Keep doing that,” he murmured. “Good girl.”

“Harry,” she whimpered.

“S’good, good,” he praised.

Holy shit. She could feel the heat spreading all through her body. She was going to explode, and she felt like she wouldn’t be able to stop if she didn’t do something right now. “Stop, stop, stop,” she begged, her voice breathy as she released his curls and removed her legs from their vice around his body.

Harry ripped from her immediately, alarm and worry painting his features. “What, s’wrong, kitten?” He asked. Her best friend was back. The person that worried about her when she fell asleep with a candle burning. The only one who seemed to care that she made it home safely when it was raining, and he wasn’t even in the same country as her.

Her breath came in pants, and she felt so utterly fucked out already she was so screwed when he was finally inside her. “Want you inside me,” she whispered her cheeks blushing with the request.

Relief replaced the terrified expression on his face. He even smiled so beautifully, like she was the most amazing thing he had ever had the pleasure of gazing at for any period of time. He thought she was regretting it. Hated it. Wanted nothing to do with him. The idea of losing his best friend was unbearable. This was manageable.

“Whatever y’want, kitten,” he promised. “Condom?” He asked. She tilted her head toward the nightstand.

“Uh...” she took a deep breath. “I haven’t had sex in a while.”

“How long is a while?” He asked.

“Uh...” she swallowed. “Like... a year?”

He paused his blindly felt search into her nightstand drawer looking for a foil square. “A year?” He asked in surprise.

She nodded. “I was kind of swearing off guys...till you came to your senses,” she was joking but Harry could see the worry the hurt in her eyes because this was his best friend.

He knew her last relationship fucked with her head a lot. He didn’t know it meant she had spent the last year fucking her fingers and toys because of it. “Me?” He mumbled.

“S’always been you,” she shrugged looking away from him. He knew that look. It was the feeling of inadequacy she got whenever she struggled with wanting to be the best in her class, her job, as a daughter, and a friend...a girlfriend. “You’re just...never here.”

This was suddenly not just about making her come so hard she would make her voice hoarse from moaning his name. This was to assure her that he adored her. Every single part of her. This was safe. This was okay because it was them. “Kitten,” he whispered. “You’re m’favorite person in the world.”

She nodded, feeling stupid to bring this up now. After he nearly had her in shambles from just his tongue. She didn’t look at him and Harry brought his hand to her face and turned her to look at him. His beautiful eyes. His perfect pink lips. The way he smelled like home.

“Kitten,” he leaned down to press his lips on her forehead. “Y’should have said something. Only an idiot would give y’up.”

“But you’re...” she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I know you’re my Harry... but you are someone... someone important,” she whispered. “I’m just...”

“No,” he interrupted. “No, love. You are the most important person I know.”

Looking up at him through her lashes had his heart skipping a beat. He smiled kindly at her. “We don’t have t’do this right now,” he offered. Maybe the conversation should have happened first.

“Scared you can’t make me come?” She asked delight dancing in her eyes.

He glared at her. “Don’t.”

“No...m’good. Also, if you don’t make me come...after all that, I might cry.”

“Well...” he ripped the wrapper open with his teeth and slid the rubber over his shaft. “Definitely don’t want that,” he smirked. “What’s your favorite position, kitten?” He asked pumping his hand gently over his length along with the condom. At the same time he brought his hand down to her center lightly rubbing his index finger over her clit.

She felt embarrassment flood her body. “Um...”

“No faking, I’ll know,” he promised dipping his finger lower between her folds. As if this was normal. A conversation that two best friends had all the time while they looked at each other naked. She closed her eyes and pushed herself over until she was on all fours. Harry moaned. “Beautiful,” he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her fleshy backside before he lined himself up behind her. “Say if it hurts, angel,” he mumbled. She felt the tip of him enter her, but it didn’t seem to matter that she was dripping with desire for him. He felt enormous as he slowly slid in. He was patient and slow and paused periodically until his torso pressed snuggly against her pretty bum. She moaned low and arched so her hands gripped the top of the mattress below the pillows, her face smushed against the comforter. He tilted his head back and moaned in response, the condom doing very little to prevent him from feeling like exploding inside her just from entering her. “Oh, s’good, angel. Good girl. Taking me so well,” he crooned. She felt like his voice was going to send her into a spiral. It never felt like this. It felt like she was meant to have Harry inside her. “S’that good, baby?” He asked hands gripping the outside of her hips. “Y’feel like heaven, love,” he moaned. “Think m’gonna last two seconds when I start moving.”

She managed a light laughter, but it felt so good to be wrapped around him. His fingers digging into her skin made her feel so...good. “You can move,” she told him.

“Yeah?” He croaked feeling so heavenly already. She dropped her chest to the mattress and Harry thought the curve of her spine dipping was so fucking gorgeous he practically wanted to cry. “Y’sure?”

“Please.”

He didn’t need to be asked twice. Slowly he pulled himself out till just the tip of his cock was in her warm, wet pussy and then slid back in a little faster. She moaned and Harry felt her clench around him at the same time. “Oh,” he groaned his hand sliding down the length of her spine and gripping a handful of her bum. “Careful, kitten,” he whispered.

She was backing herself up to him as he pressed forward creating this heavenly feel that made every part of her shake with desire for him. “No faking,” he murmured.

“No faking,” she repeated breathlessly.

“Good girl,” he cooed rubbing her sides as he snapped his hips toward her and enjoying the view of her naked skin before him. He smacked the side of her bum not quite hard, but not quite gentle. She whimpered and clenched again making Harry gasp out. “Oh good girl,” he grunted his voice hoarse with desire. “S’good. Do that again,” he spanked her with the same force again. “S’a good girl.”

“Harry,” she could feel the knot in her stomach unraveling. She moaned into the mattress, her heart rate skyrocketing. “I’m—”

“Good, good girl,” he praised. “Cum. Cum all over me, good girl,” he whispered. Leaning forward to reach around her hip and pressed on the bundle of nerves to set her over the edge.

“Oh, yes,” she whispered breathlessly her body slumping forward as Harry felt the waves of pleasure cause her to flutter around him making his mind spin while he tried to focus on riding out her orgasm so she felt it for as long as she could. She was twitching and whimpering as the waves subsided and Harry kept pumping into her.

“Good girl. Right there, kitten,” he whispered. “M’right there,” he promised croaking out the words thickly as he finally spilled into the condom with three final deep pumps. He pulled himself out causing a hiss to escape his lips. Her hips slumped down to the mattress and Harry twisted off and tossed the condom into the trash by her bedside.

He turned her over to her back so he could gaze at her lovingly. It made her stomach twist. “No faking?” He asked cupping her face as she took deep breaths. The smile on his lips made her crazy with adoration for him.

“Yeah,” she smirked. “Faked the whole thing.”

He chuckled. “Want your cactus?” He smirked.

She shook her head and pressed her face against his chest as she brought her hand to his face and kissed him softly on the lips. “M’good,” she promised.

“Good.”

“You didn’t fake it, did you?” She asked.

“Oh kitten. S’no way,” he kissed the top of her head. “S’all you. Always been you.”

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biceratops7 · 9 months

Text

I get it now,

I know why ineffable bureaucracy happened first. I had a realization and it finally makes sense to me.

The reason why the “arch angel fucking Gabriel” was able to put aside his hang ups in the fraction of the time it’s STILL taking Aziraphale is precisely BECAUSE he’s the “arch angel fucking Gabriel”. It’s not about who is more willing to embrace the trappings of humanity and all the beautiful shades of grey it holds enough to put differences aside, it’s about privilege.

Gabriel has never had to fear what aziraphale has even in supposedly the “same” circumstances. He can meet with Beelzebub face to face, converse and even flirt with them as freely as he pleases. There is no demeanor of caution in their sequence what so ever. And why would there be? They’re both in the highest position of power actually on the ground floor making decisions. They’re the ones who dole out the punishment, keep those under them in line, and generally have final say on what goes on in their day to day world. I mean who would even be surveilling them?

The seeds of this imbalance were planted in episode 3. Elspheth lacks power by being impoverished, so she quite literally doesn’t have the means to be the best version of herself. Instead of burying her friend and mourning the life lost, in a genuinely unsettling moment, she must jarringly transform the thought of her into just a fresh body. By being with Beelzebub, being kind to them and opening his heart so willingly, Gabriel is able to fully realize his potential, and accomplish the highest virtue there is.

… But love has never been something Aziraphale and Crowley could afford. The price of loving each other isn’t a slap on the wrist and a permanent vacation, it’s fearing for the other’s life everyday. They’re armed to the teeth in fire extinguishers, and Aziraphale would sooner declare war on hell than use holy water in a place Crowley spends a significant amount of time. The memories of how they’ve almost lost each other are ugly, cruel, and terrifying.

They’re both scared and fed up. They want the exact same thing, they just have completely different ideas of how to achieve it. That’s why aziraphale is so excited to “restore” crowley and be in charge of Heaven with him, and so distraught when Crowley hates the idea and refuses. He’s essentially an allegorical cult survivor. His insistence on rejoining Heaven is not a rejection of Crowley’s confession, it’s a reciprocation. Aziraphale is trying to provide, what is in his eyes, the ONLY thing that can possibly allow them the freedom of love, safety, and self autonomy: power.

It’s as if to say “no actually, we can’t just do that.” Aziraphale truly believes the only way him and Crowley can be safe and together in the current circumstances is if they play by their oppressor’s rules, and to be honest I’m not entirely convinced at all that he’s wrong. I don’t think for a second Metatron intended the offer to be a genuine choice and would’ve left them alone if the answer was no, and even though he is excited by the offer, Aziraphale probably knows this too.

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fir3ylolol · 6 months

Text

we want you!

pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

summary: The hot military rep on your college campus finally talks to you, but what happens when he gives you his number?

word count: 2.4 k

tw: vaginal sex, vaginal penetration, oral sex, cunnilingus, afab!reader, very light dom/sub, sub!reader, gentle dom!johnny, he still whimpers tho, kind of anonymous sex, making out, biting, praise, hes actually rly sweet, smut, porn with plot

a/n: DILF JOHNNY DILF JOHNNY im so happy with how this turned out!! OH! and I've got another mk1 johnny fic halfway done so keep an eye out for that :))

other parts

Ao3

It wasn’t really fair to call you a college student. Were you still actively going to college? Yes, but! You were studying for your master’s degree. Totally not the same thing.

So you didn’t feel that bad about paying attention to the very hot military representative that you always saw on campus. He was insanely built for an older guy, tall and graying near the temples. Black sunglasses always cover his eyes, you couldn't tell if he was cocky or just avoiding the kids on campus. You wanted to talk to him but honestly? He made you sort of nervous.

He’s just so handsome and confident, nodding your way every time you pass him. But finally, after a couple of months, you decide it’s your turn to be confident. He’s stood next to a table under a pop-up canopy, looking around for more people to scout. You walk directly towards him, trying not to falter any of your steps. He finally notices you, quirking an eyebrow and smirking your way.

Fuck, that’s even hotter.

But it’s too late to back out now, as you stop a few feet from him. Nervous to meet his eyes, you clear your throat and manage to ask, “How’s the military this time of year?” He chuckles lightly, pushing his sunglasses further up his nose. “It’s not too bad. You know, I’ve seen you around campus, but you always seemed like you were in such a hurry that I didn’t want to bother you.” You mentally curse yourself for pretty much scaring him off.

“Well, you know how it is. Places to go, subjects to study. I have been wondering why you haven’t said anything to me. I always see you chatting with other students. I just figured it was because I wasn’t the right material.” You try to be less nervous and casual, leaning against the table as well. He looks down and laughs again, taking his sunglasses off and tucking them into his tactical vest. He looks up, wide brown puppy dog eyes meeting yours.

Shit, can he stop being so hot??

“Nah, you’re too good for us, you’re needed out here. Besides, they only have me out here for star power.” You look quizically at him. I guess he did look sort of familiar. Then it hit you. “Oh shit, you’re Johnny Cage!.” He laughs again, who knew you were this funny?? “You just realized? I guess I’m not as famous as I once was. That, or without the tattoo, you can’t really tell.” He unzips the vest slightly and pulls his collar down, showing hints of a large tattoo of his own name across his chest. You fluster slightly at his show, “Wow, yeah, that makes a big difference. Wait, why are you in the military?” He sighs, scratching the back of his head. “Well, my ex-wife basically recruited me and honestly, it’s been more fulfilling than being an actor.”

And there it is, the awkward reason that someone so hot is single. Coughing lightly, you look away. “A-ah, well, that’s…good.” Sensing that he might’ve just said something a little uncomfortable, he quickly grabs a leaflet and pen from the table and scribbles something on it. “Hey, I feel bad about taking up so much of your time. Here.” He hands it to you, sticking it almost directly into your arms. As you take it and look at the very rushed writing of what looks like his phone number, he flashes a signature smile. “So we can continue our conversation at your leisure.” Folding it up and putting it in your pocket, you try to smile back as confidently. “How kind of you, Johnny. I’ll take you up on that.” As you begin to walk away, you hear Johnny call after you. “Wait! What’s your name?” Turning around slightly, you wave and yell back, “Take me out first!” He laughs slightly and puts his sunglasses back on, light glinting off them mischievously.

As you get back to your place, you pull the paper out and put it on your bed. This is crazy, you know? He’s like twice your age at least. And a celebrity! But…he wouldn’t give you his number unless he wanted you to text him. But not yet. You didn’t want to seem desperate. You decide to eat a bit of food and check on your grades, trying to ignore your nerves. You can only wait so long though, and you grab the paper again. Putting his number in, you take way too long to figure out what to say. God, you feel like a middle schooler, getting nervous about some cute guy. But you finally pull the trigger, sending a simple hello and hoping that you were the only person he gave his number to.

He responds almost too quickly, immediately recognizing you and being happy that you decided to message him. You smile at his words, then quickly shake your head, embarrassed at how quickly you were getting giggly over him. But you can’t stop yourself, half-flirty messages sent back and forth the rest of the day. Man, a guy like this is dangerous. He’s smart, funny, secure in himself, and genuinely so nice. Plus, he spends half the time talking about you, asking questions, and seeming truly interested. It’s hard to find a guy like that.

As day turns to night, you get ready for bed. As you lay down in bed for mindless social media time, you get a text from Johnny. As you click on it, your eyes widen in shock. A selfie of him, laid out on a hotel bed, completely shirtless with wet hair lights up your screen. Finally able to see the full tattoo, plus the insane muscles he has, you need a second to catch your breath. He captioned it ‘ready 4 bed, but hotel beds r always uncomfortable’. You feel like you’re drooling over him, how can a 50-year-old look like that?? He quickly sends a ‘hope youre feeling comfy’ and you feel compelled to take a pic for him. Fixing your hair and lighting in preparation, you make sure that your pajamas are actually cute. After way too many tries, you get the perfect one. You send it with the caption ‘oh u know it ;)’ and immediately throw it onto your bed, nerves absolutely shot. After a few seconds, your phone buzzes. And buzzes again. And again.

Picking it back up with shaking hands, you see his praise flooding in. ‘oh wow’, ‘you look so good like that’, ‘comfy is definitely a good look on you’, and ‘ur room is so cool too’ are amongst the least of the texts he’s sent. After a short pause, a final text arrives.

‘i didnt think you could get hotter but you proved me very wrong’

All of a sudden, you lose the walls you set up to hold yourself back. The mood is switched rapidly, and honestly? You are no longer nervous about talking to him. It’s time to have fun.

Y: ‘you think im hot?’

J: ‘of course, i have eyes you know’

Y: ‘i mean, i thought i was too young for you’

J: ‘i wont say i didnt notice, but honestly, if you dont mind i dont’

Y: ‘perfect’

J: ‘god, youre so hot’

Y: ‘youre not so bad yourself. dont think i didnt notice those muscles’

J: ‘i was that obvious huh? sorry, i couldnt help myself’

Flirting back and forth, you begin to lose your inhibitions even more. Flirty turns to sensual to almost overtly sexual. Something weird about what happens when the sun goes down. Like a horny werewolf. That was, until, he sent the exact right message.

J: ‘i wish i could see you rn, teasing over text can only do so much’

Holding your breath, you can’t stop yourself from a much too bold text.

Y: ‘come over then’

J: ‘what’

Y: ‘come over, you said you dont like hotels and you wanna see me’

Y: ‘here (address)’

Y: ‘your move hollywood’

J: ‘omw’

Freezing and realizing what you did, you rush to pick up your house a little. It wasn’t messy but still. Nerves. It’s a surprisingly short wait until you hear a gentle knock at the door. Seeing him stand there in the pajama pants you saw earlier and a jacket, you unlock the door. Both of you stand there, waiting and breathing. Finally, he steps in, his right hand shooting to your waist and left hand closing the door behind him. Quickly, his lips meet yours in a messy clash, tongue and teeth and desperation. Finally, you pull away, panting and trying to catch your breath. Your brain finally processes that it’s really him, touching you, standing right there.

And it’s not too long before you begin to kiss him again, hands wrapped around his neck. His hands travel lower, squeezing your ass with a groan. With surprising ease, he picks you up and you wrap your legs around his waist. He breaks away again, asking in a breathy voice, “Bedroom?” With a nod, you manage to get out, “That way.” He starts the kiss back up, walking towards your room.

You expect him to toss you down on your bed. You’re kind of used to jacked guys having too big of an ego in bed. But he leans down gently, placing your back on the bed. His lips move down, kissing your jaw, neck, and chest, leaving little bites and hickeys along the way. You shiver at the feeling, he's much more tender than you expected, but you’re not complaining. One of his hands slides under your top, swiftly removing it. The cool air of the room can only be felt for a few seconds before his warm tongue latches onto one of your nipples, coarse fingers lightly twisting the other. Light moans slip from your lips as his other hand caresses your hip. He groans at the sound, pulling away slightly to mutter out, “Shit, you sound so good, baby.”

Continuing to play with you, his free hand travels lower. He finally dips below your waistband, quickly finding your wetness, another moan escaping his lips. Finally breaking away, he moves lower, crouching on the ground next to the bed. Slowly, he pulls the last of your clothes off. You’re fully exposed in front of him as he practically eats you up with his eyes. Placing chaste kisses against your pussy, he dives in, licking with a fervor.

Unable to hold yourself back, pornstar moans pour from your mouth. It eggs him on further, moaning against your sensitive clit, and gently curls a finger inside you. Pulling away to breathe, he rasps out, “You taste just as good as you sound. And feel even better.” He keeps working at you, pushing you closer and closer to cumming. Another finger pumps inside you, his thumb rubs your clit, and his free hand grabs the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss. He notices you about to finish, rapid pants and breathy moans, and leans in to whisper in your ear, “Come on love, come for me. Let me feel that pretty pussy clench around my fingers. Put on a show for me baby.” And there you go, grabbing onto his shoulder and throwing your head back, cumming around his fingers. He slowly removes his fingers, admiring you while lewdly sucking on them. That earns another groan from him and he cleans his fingers, not waisting a drop.

“Good job, you did so good for me.” He kisses your forehead, quickly removing his shirt. “You ready for more?” In your half-fucked out state, you nod rapidly as he finishes taking his pants off. God damn, aren’t older guys supposed to lose testosterone or something? Rippling muscles littered with light freckles, salt and pepper hair swept out of his eyes, and cock fully erect and waiting. He scoots you onto the bed further, climbing on after you. As he kneels at your legs, he looks down hungrily. He leans in and kisses you, body leaning onto yours. With a final questioning look, which is met with a resounding “yes please” from you, he lines himself up with you.

Slowly, he sheaths himself in you, hissing at the sensation, “Oh god, you feel so fucking good, so tight around me.” Your legs wrap around his waist again, pulling him even closer. It takes you a while to adjust, gentle kisses on the lips to distract you. With a final kiss against his cheek to reassure him, he begins to move faster and faster, grinding against you with each thrust. He’s unable to hold back from loud moans and whines. Readjusting, he leans back and grabs your legs, setting them against his chest. He starts fucking you even harder, nearly knocking the wind out of you. Both of you are definitely annoying your neighbors, loud and unabashedly lost in the feeling. He can’t help the praises falling from his lips, rasps of “so good”, “you sound so sexy”, “you look so good under me”, and “I’ve wanted this for so long, you don’t understand”. The lewd sounds that fill the room are drowned out completely by you two. He seems proud of how you bounce below him, hands desperately searching for a hold on him.

Moving your legs back around his waist and leaning down, his pace is relentless and he’s lost the rhythm in his movements. You kiss against his tattoo, biting lightly against it, which earns another delicious whimper from Johnny. He starts to snap his hips especially hard as you begin to scratch lightly against his shoulders and back, whining out “gonna come, ‘m gonna come”. There’s almost no time to react before his hips snap in violently one last time, coming deep in you. A final moan escapes his lips as his hips stutter with the force of his orgasm and how much physical effort this required. Both of you breathe heavily, trying to regain some composure. He's trembling slightly at how hard he came, pressing his forehead against yours. He pulls out very slowly, a light whimper at the feeling as he lays down next to you. After a long pause, he starts to speak again, voice shaky but words confident.

“So I’ve got two questions for you. Can I know your name now, and do you wanna go again?"

#johnny cage x reader #johnny cage #johnny cage smut #mk x reader #mk smut #mk11 #mk11 x reader #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 11 #x reader #afab reader

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