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sykosugu · 2 days

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♤♢ on the run ♧♡ | five

♤ summary: she's an infamous bank robber, and he's the only detective that's been able to get close to her. he was never apart of her plans. but he's got his clutches in her and she can't let go.a geto suguru au

♢ warnings: this story will contain descriptions of violence, destructive behavior, toxic behavior, illegal activities, sexual content, death. use of weapons. forbidden romance

♧ aw: character death (not mc), blood, violence, ooc toji,

♡ currently: completed

♤ taglist: closed

♢ wc: 2.3k

♧ carlile speaks: omg we have arrived at the end of Sugu and Ruby's story. Im not sure how some of you will react to this part but I'm excited to find out! thank you all so much for the love over the course of this story. this was my first post in the jjk fandom and I feel like I was welcomed with open arms. I love and appreciate every single one of you in this community I've built. thank you all again for deeming me worthy of your time! see you in the next story! ALSO a big thank you to @celestie0 for helping me with this final chapter. I would not have done it without you!

♡: previous part | you are here

Toji Fushiguro was your best friend. Or at least you thought he was. Toji was a contact you made when you were eighteen years old, fresh out of highschool and right after your parents had kicked you out. Claiming they don’t want to enable your lifestyle. Doing drugs with your friends, until the drugs no longer interested you. Then came the shoplifting. That’s where you shined. You could steal anything. Chanel. Prada. Louis V. Any of it. What can you say, you wanted the best of the best.

You’d been staying with some of your “friends” you’d made along the way. Friends who more so wanted you to live the life they were living; sitting at home getting high all day, but you wanted the action. You wanted to be in the trenches. Wanted the thrill of the job, not the fabricated thrill from the drugs. You wanted the real high.

Toji was someone you ran into at the right time, he needed someone to train to help with small bank heists and you needed somewhere new to stay.

Toji was there for you. He housed you, kept you fed. Kept you happy, in so many more ways than one. He gave you an immense amount of knowledge. How to keep your cool. How to handle a weapon. How to make yourself into a weapon.

“You are your biggest asset, use it.” rings in your ears during every job.

All of the hand to hand combat you’d learned was taught to you by him. He was the first person you’d ever unintentionally kicked their ass.

“Again,” he pants, wiping the blood from his nose on the back of his hand, a sick smile on his face. He flexes his hands before balling them back into fists, taking his standing position; arms up in front of his face.

“Toji,” you warn. “I think we got th–,” you start to object, but Toji isn't having any of that.

“Again.”

And so you do. You continuously knock this grown man to the floor. His eyes grow with adoration after every punch; every kick. He was so proud. Nobody was ever able to land a blow, much less knock him off his feet. But you were so quick and nimble, he was hardly able to keep track of you.

You’d originally only ever used masks and weapons to rob your banks, but when you met Toji your entire perception of the way you could do everything changed. He was the one who taught you to hide most of your face. Only leave behind minor details they can use. Always follow them into the room, never be the first. And always leave last.

Toji was beyond proud of you. That’s why when you’d met Sukuna and immediately fell for his charm, his attitude changed. He was less than thrilled. It wasn’t a shock to him that he’d fallen for you, but it wasn't something he’d planned on either. He thought you’d had the chemistry, but his timing was all off. You’d met Sukuna. He didn’t anticipate someone else scooping you up the way he wanted to. Toji wanted everything with you, he was training you to be able to reign with him, not somebody else. Toji needed a way to be close to you, so he became Sukuna’s right hand. His business partner. Working his ass off to get the position he’s in now. Practically kissing Sukuna’s ass in order to be near you. Taking job after stupid job to prove himself worthy.

If only Toji had been honest with you from the start.

Sukuna was greedy. He had everything but needed more. Craved it even. Then he met you and needed to have you too.

But you showed him up. Toji had trained you beyond what anyone had ever seen before. You made Sukuna feel small; and that just wasn’t going to fly. Sukuna wanted you to keep his bed warm more than anything since he found out you were more skilled than him. Sukuna tried his best to kill your spirit; slowly of course. Taking you off of jobs, telling you that your skillset wasn't as good as others and you were not needed anymore. He tried distracting you with money and shopping sprees that worked for a while, but you eventually run out of things to buy when you have the access to buy anything you want. He even made sure to make you question your own physical appearance by slyly flirting with other members of his team in front of you; then gaslighting you into thinking you were seeing things.

Toji held you when you cried to him. He’d smooth his hands up and down your back as you sobbed into his chest. How he’d wish you would see how terribly you were being treated. But if sukuna found out he was speaking ill of him, he'd be dealt with. So he held out for as long as he could, but you were the first one to break. You wanted to leave and live a life of your own. Toji was so happy for you, but wanted that life with you. He’d never told you any of these things, in fear of rejection from you and in fear of retaliation from his now boss.

Toji wishes you’d never introduced him to Sukuna. Toji wishes you’d be his. Toji’s world fell apart when he found out you were making beds with a cop. The actual enemy. He thought you’d be smarter than that.

When Sukuna informed Toji of his plan to execute you for treason, he was terrified. But he couldn't say anything. He couldn't risk losing everything he’d built, especially now knowing you’d never felt the same way about him. He assumes so anyways, claiming it was the safe assumption.

Toji knew something had gone amiss the day Sukuna went to finish the job and he hadn’t returned. Toji was prepared to take over no questions asked. He began making changes in command, having conversations with his chain when there was word of disturbances in the hall.

Once the police bore into the casino penthouse, aiming straight for Toji, he knew exactly who he was dealing with when he looked into Suguru’s eyes as he stared him down behind the barrel of his gun.

“Toji Fushiguro, you are under arrest for the murder of Ryomen Sukuna. You have the right to remain silent…” Satoru speaks from his spot in the middle of the room, gun raised at the man seated before him.

“So, you’re the one, huh?” Toji speaks over Satoru, nodding his head at Suguru.

“What?” Suguru lowers his gun momentarily.

“You’re the one she fell for,” Toji laughs from his chair. He swirls the whiskey around in his glass before he stands, raising his hands into the air. “I didn't do this, but I’ll go down so she doesn't have to.”

Satoru walks behind him to place the cuffs around his wrists.

“You loved her too.” Suguru states. “Didn’t you?”

Toji just smiles as Satoru walks him out in his cuffs. He did. He loved you more than anything else on this planet. But he’d rather you live the life you wanted than stand in your way. It’s why he helped you leave Sukuna before. He knew you didn’t see him in that same light and he was okay with that. He was just happy to see you happy.

Suguru felt bad at that moment, but he knew he’d keep that information to himself.

The copious amounts of forged documents, planted evidence, fake witness statements.. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that Toji wasn't the one who killed Sukuna. Everything made it seem like Toji was tired of being second in command and wanted it all.

Toji would take whatever punishment was coming his way; he knew this was your doing. He knew you’d be broken once you found out he hadn’t attempted to stop Sukuna. Toji was supposed to be your safe haven, and he let you down. He knew that. So he was prepared to take whatever you thought was a suitable punishment for him. He’d kneel on the ground you walked on if it meant making you smile. Especially since the guilt ate him up inside for never standing up for you earlier. He swears he’d do anything to make you happy, but he cowers away when you actually need him. Toji knew he was a coward. He knew he could have done something earlier but he didn’t.

Toji was convicted and placed on death row for the murder of Sukuna. The revenge plan you had set in motion had come to a head, you just had to do this one last job and then the life you planned with Suguru would be in the palm of your hand.

Toji’s son was your last target; you tracked him for weeks while you located the item in question: Toji’s unsealed will.

The will contains everything you would need. The numbers to multiple offshore accounts with millions of dollars. The deeds to houses spread throughout the world. Everything his kids would need beyond his lifeline.

Seventy seconds. In and out.

Suguru is outside waiting for you. Something you’re not used to. But the sense of security feels nice for once. Every job before this one you’d done alone. Having the man you’re willing to risk everything for waiting for you while you perform the most important job of your life has every nerve alight with anticipation, and also relief; Knowing he’d be there if something went wrong. Your heart could burst out of your chest in appreciation for him.

Satoru is down the street, handling the signal blocker for the alarm at the bank. Intercepting the signal is the easy part, but keeping it down for seventy seconds is the hard part. But Satoru isn't worried.

The bank manager approaches you with keys in hand, “Safety deposit room, right?” the man timidly asks. His question throws you off momentarily. Your smug smile falls as he speaks.

“How’d you know that?” you ask, reaching for your gun.

“Stop, Ruby. We’re playing by my rules from now on.” Satoru’s voice startles you from behind.

“Satoru, you’re making a huge mistake right now,” you warn, your hands remaining where he can see them.

“The only ones making mistakes are you and Geto.”

“He’ll be in here once he realizes I’m taking too long. You know that as much as I do.”

“Oh, I'm counting on it,” he sneers, “Now, turn around and face me.”

You hear the sound of his gun click, making you chuckle.

“I don’t need his help anyways,” you duck down and sweep your feet under his legs, catching him off guard and making him tumble backwards onto the floor. A big cracking sound fills the air as his head makes contact with the hard floor. “I can handle myself, you should have known that, Satoru.”

The few onlookers in the bank unsure of what to do, the silent alarm still won’t trigger.

Satoru looks up at you from his spot on the floor, a ringing in his ears from how hard his head collided with the marble. “You won’t get away with this,” he pants out in pain, clutching the back of his skull. His gun. He needed his gun. Where? Where did it end up? His head just hurts and that’s all he can focus on. His GUN, whERE IS IT? Satoru, where is y–

“I already did,” and with that you leave him laying there, your gaze serving as a warning as you pull the bank manager in the direction of the safety deposit room. He opens exactly what you want; no questions asked.

Unfortunately, you decided no loose ends this time. The bank manager met his fate inside the safety deposit room. He begged, but only for a minute. This wasn’t like you. Look what love did to you. Love and betrayal. Everyone you had ever loved betrayed you. But not Suguru.

Never Suguru.

Sounds of fighting pull your train of thought from the lifeless man in front of you. Making a swift exit with the paperwork tucked into your jacket, you head for the source of the sound.

“What are you doing, Satoru? This isn’t what we agreed on,” Suguru groans from their wrestling spot on the floor. Arms are being pinned, yanked free and then pinned again. The men fight to get the upper hand.

“I told you that I took an oath to stand up to people like you and her. This isn't a game, Geto. Don't you see that?”

Suguru stops for a moment, looking at his friend while he processes the words leaving his mouth.

“Sugu,” you call from your position, gun raised and pointed directly at the white haired man before you.

“Now, Ru!” he calls to you, turning Satoru’s upper body so his back faces you. There’s silence. So much silence that follows the shot. Suguru looks at his friend beneath him with tears in his eyes. The hurt and betrayal laced behind every feature. The life leaves Satoru’s eyes as the men lock their gazes. “I told you, you won’t take her from me.”

He stands from his spot, walking over to you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, looking you over.

“Fine. You?” you rush out. He nods quickly. “We need to go, now,” you grab hold of one of his hands, pulling him towards the exit.

“You know we’re about to be on the run for the rest of our lives together?”

“Are you complaining?” he asks from the driver's side, sunglasses pushed atop his head as he weaves his way through the mountainous roads.

“Of course not. Never when it's with you.”

“I love you, Ru.”

“I love you more, Sugu.”

♡ tags: @celestie0 @lostfracturess @alwaysfreakingout @shervinss @jaelahh @gojolvrr34 @shesplendl @phoenix-eclipses @nanasukii28 @mylifetold @bakuhoethotski @4y3sh4 @whereflowerswenttodie @drakenswifeyy

#geto suguru #geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #jjk geto #geto smut #jjk suguru #suguru geto smut #geto x y/n #geto suguru x you #suguru geto x reader #geto x you #suguru geto x you #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader

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3rachaslut · 25 days

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kinks i think skz would have (part 3)

SKZXFEM READER

cw: smut obviously (MINORS DNI) the tw’s are kinda obvious with the sub header but read at your own discretion babies 🤍

a/n: not proofread sorry for any mistakes. also i’m so happy to be writing again! lets be delulu together xox

part 1, part 2

bangchan; hair pulling

oh my lord this man is relentless,

he’d be grabbing fistfuls of your hair and yanking your head up to look at him when you’re on your knees underneath him

“you look so pretty on your knees for me doll”

will literally snatch your hair as he’s fucking you in missionary and growl like an ANIMAL down your ear as he’s so deep in your pussy

“f- fuck baby, ah- feel so good around my cock”

the way your mouth drops open at the sting on your scalp as you stare up at him with mascara down your face from him deep-throating you omg you look devine babygirl!

“don’t cry angel you’re doing such a good job for me” *continues to FACE FUCK you*

lee know; edging/ overstim

we all knew this one was coming

you best believe lee know would make you BEG for him to let you come every. single. time. without fail. you would be a whimpering, sobbing mess

“if you want to cum, what do you say baby? … hmm i don’t think think you want it that much” GOD

he would be holding the vibrator to your clit for ages! smirking at your face contorting as the pleasure just builds and builds in your pussy.

“such a good girl for daddy hmm?” HELP (i am simply a dog)

“that’s it, keep begging sweetheart” AHH

and when he does let you come oh. god. he would make you orgasm over and over again until you’re crying! your pussy would be so red and swollen afterwards and he lovessss to see it

“no no doll, you begged me to come so take it like a good girl”

changbin; pussy slapping

hear me out-

so, changbin would be on top of you fully clothed whilst you’re bare naked underneath him and even the sight of you alone is enough to have his cock digging into you from his pants

he’s the type to play with your clit until you’re mewling but would SLAPPP your pussy once he hears you beg to go faster

“you don’t tell me when to do with your pussy darling”

the way he would smirk slyly as your body jolts up and your legs shake in surprise at the sudden impact o.m.g!

each slap would have you groaning from your whole chest as he continues slapping your sensitive clit again and again and he would even have the AUDACITY to chuckle down your ear at your reactions

“you’ll get my cock soon enough baby, don’t worry”

hyunjin; praise kink

i feel like this one being on the list was inevitable. hyunjin and praise kink just go hand in hand

the way he would trace your entire body with his hands leaving kisses on your exposed skin with his eyes full of adoration i’m CRYING

“you’re actually ethereal y/n..”

each time he would kiss the inside of your thighs, he would look up at you with your head thrown back in bliss and smile lovingly at the sight of you enjoying yourself. (all he cares about is your pleasure i SWEAR)

“that feel nice baby?” um YES

none. stop. compliments of how beautiful your body is and how he’s the luckiest man in the world

lots of make out sessions because trust me, this man is drunk on you!

“so fucking beautiful”

han jisung; marking

because han AINT SHARING

the thought of anyone else looking at you has han feeling the need to mark you as his own. you’re his and he’s yours. done!

seriously bestie, the amount of hickeys he gives you is crazyyyy! but would absolutely kiss each one after making them

“my gorgeous girl, aren’t you? only mine” the POSSESSIVENESS i love urgh

the way he would have you moaning underneath him as he sucks on your neck again and again and the way you would sound so sexy he would be lowkey going feral for you.

“fuck baby, i love you so much”

felix; pain play

because, in my opinion, felix can’t contain his dom side around you…

as in he would be shoving his fingers down your throat whilst pinching and twisting your nipples just to hear your choked moans whilst you writhe under him

and the way he would chuckle smugly af at the state he would put you in every time. (his deep laugh has me on the floor)

“is it hurting baby? aww… good”

SLAPPING. EVERYWHERE.

the lasting bruises of his hands all over your thighs and ass for dayssss

the way he would nip his teeth against your clit just to see you jump and buck up into his face when you feel a sharp sting onfbsjsn

*deep voice* “good girl” — AHHHH i’m sat!!

seungmin; objectification & humiliation

this one is my personal fave… stay with me !!…

i know for sure that seungmin is a super soft lover but you can’t tell me this man doesn’t respectfully disrespect you to the point of orgasm !

the way he would tease your clit forever just to look into your desperate af eyes and laugh at you for being “such a needy fucking puppy yeah?” and the way he would call you a whore and slap you in the face afterwards IM WET

“can’t speak now pup? aww are you so dumb on my cock that you’ve turned into nothing but a doll for me to fuck? yeahhh…”

and the way he would choke you until your eyes roll back in bliss just to laugh at how pliant you are O.M.G

the aftercare though! he would give you so so many face kisses and cuddle you so tightly only to do the exact same thing the night after

jeongin; Msub

look, i’m constantly torn between wanting innie to rail me and wanting to corrupt him but this oneeee…

WHINEY JEONGIN.

when i tell you the whimpers this man lets out whilst you tease the top of his cock is heavenly, i mean dangerously

“y/n- mistress! please!” oh my

his eyes would be focused on YOU, never taking his eyes off his beautiful girl

so much begging and pleading and the way he would moan even louder in desperation when you smirk at him because he knows it gonna be a long night

“i’ll be good! i’ll be so good for you! please y/n!”

the way he would grab your face once he comes down from his high and just kisses you for so long with SO much passion. i will cry

#skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids x y/n #bang chan smut #leeknow smut #changbin smut #hyunjin smut #han jisung smut #lee felix smut #felix smut #seungmin smut #jeongin smut #stray kids x you #stray kids oneshot #stray kids imagines #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours

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mommypieck · 1 year

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⌗︙・jjk boys reacting to u squirting ⸜⸜・

gojo

"omg look at this pussy." gojo said as his fingers played with your clit. two of his other fingers were buried deep inside, making u squirm and plead him to let you cum. he latched his mouth onto your breast, biting and sucking, leaving deep purple marks all over it. his fingers sped up when he noticed you were about to cum and his mouth focused on sucking your nipple.

"im cumming." you yelled out as juices squirted out of your pussy, wetting the bedding and gojos hand.

"holy shit, baby." he breathed out, clearly surprised at your ability. his expression soonly change into devilish smirk, "now let's see if u can make the same mess around my cock."

geto

it was the first time you decided to try anal with suguru and he was more than ready to fulfill your wish. his fingers stretched your little hole, making sure to prepare you. his fingers quickly left your hole and you heard geto chuckle when you clenched around nothing. it was soonly replaced with his big cock, the stretch more painful than before. he bottomed out, making two experimental thrusts. after noting that you were okay, he set a slow face. your pussy couldn't help but to react, squirting little with each thrust. geto was fast to notice, "you like having your ass played with, huh?

he set a rough place, enjoying how much you squirted out to your dismay.

"look at the mess you are making, now show me the mess you can make when you cum."

yuuji

you moaned into your pillow as yuuji pounded you from behind. his hands holding your hips, bringing them back against his cock in fast and hard pace. your juices were running down your leg, being it the 4th time yuuji made you cum that night. his stamina is high and he loves to make you cum, so it wasn't a surprise.

"god, you feel so good." he moaned out as he felt his orgasm nearing. he loved how your pussy took him all in. your felt your orgasm nearing too, the knot in your stomach tightening with every thrust. "itadori, im gonna cum." you whined into your pillow. he smiled at you, whispering little "cum" into your ear. you cum shaking, juices spilling all over the bed, leaving a puddle beneath you. yuuji tried stopping but the imagine in front of him made him cum harder than ever.

"holy shit, babe. do it again."

megumi

you and your boyfriend haven't seen each other in few weeks so it was obvious for you to entangle in each other's arms as soon as you meet again. you felt megumis breath on your neck as he slowly fucjed into your needy pussy. his hands were holding each one of your hands next to your head. his thrusts were slow but deep and his cock filled you in the best way possible. it was rare for your boyfriend to be this needy and you feel his body tensing because of how much he tried to stop himself from cumming.

"so good." he whispered into your mouth, kissing you deeply. you could feel your orgasm nearing and with the way megumi was looking at you, you had to let it go. you cum with a loud moan, pretty pussy squirting and coating megumis cock. he stops to look at the mess with wide eyes before he sets way rougher pace.

"im glad you felt this good. now let me cum into this pretty pussy."

nanami

your hands held onto his way larger body, his thrusts almost making you fall. your back was pressed against had stone wall and your legs wrapped around his waist. he thrusts in deep and hard thrusts, your body bouncing with every thrust. you lean to kiss him, your tongue entangling with his. you're addicted to him and you can see the way he looks at you too. his eyebrows together, mouth slightly open. "im gonna cum." you whisper against his mouth. juices flow out of your pussy as you cum. kento groans at that, deciding to not make a comment about how your juices stained his work shirt.

"good girl. now come on baby, i need your pussy for a little longer."

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allisonlol · 5 months

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Bsd characters with a s/o who does only fans?

a/n: omg hello?? i’m BACK. thank y’all for all the love in my absence btw…we hit 3k awhile ago and i didn’t say anything so TYSM❗️🫶🏻 here are some little hc’s to get me back into the swing of things. i chose a bunch of randoms!

warnings: mild sexual content, implied violence

BSD Characters When You Have an Onlyfans

Dazai:

first and foremost lol

he is DEFINITELY down for this shit

you need him to take photos for you? he already has the camera open on his phone. you wanna record something with him? you blink and his clothes will already be on the FLOOR

i feel like dazai already has a thing for recording sex, so he loves it

i’m sensing a bit of voyuerism with the way he wants other people to watch y’all 🤨

also doxxes and hunts down the people who leak ur shit 🫵🏻❌

Chuuya

hmm mixed opinions on this one

like. chuuya doesn’t wanna control u or tell u what to do, but…

he is too possessive a man to be alright with u having an onlyfans

is embarrassed to admit this tho and will just be like “oh…okay” while avoiding looking you in the eye if u ever mention it

completely avoids getting involved with it…sorry but you’ll have to take ur own pictures.

don’t get me wrong, he likes to see them after and always think u look incredible!! chuuya just hates to imagine all the other men doing the same and worse to them

bro will hustle even more to provide enough money for you to get off the net 💀

Akutagawa

u had to tell him what onlyfans was and even then, he was like “erm…”

i feel like he doesn’t take it too seriously. at first almost considers it like instagram 😭

but once u ask him to help take pics for you, and he sees what ur (not) wearing, he’s suddenly like “what’s all this abt…”

let’s you continue to post but only if he can stand in the background of each picture with a knife 🔪

besides that, he doesn’t like being on camera for videos or anything. doesn’t feel comfy with u filming what he considers ur most intimate moments 👎🏻

Nikolai

don’t have to ask him twice!! this man is even more eager than dazai

becomes his goal to get you to the top 1% (and y’all get pretty damn close)

your photos and videos turn much kinkier once nikolai joins you

gets u new lingerie to wear for each photo set, buys u a bunch of toys, proposes new ideas for videos…might as well give this man 50% of profits

almost starts to take over YOUR onlyfans…makes an appearance in every post 💀

Fyodor

i’m unapologetic about this one

it’s an immediate and definite no

demands u delete the account and “respect yourself more” 🤨🤨

(covering up for his extreme possessiveness…he cannot stand any “vile men” looking at u)

u try to show him the photos on there and he shoves your phone away, talking some shit abt how it’s disgusting??

i feel like fyodor has one of those weird madonna-whore complexes…whole other thing to get into but basically he doesn’t even like to see sexual photos of u most of the time 💀

ur messing with his religious vibe!! don’t tempt him!!

taglist: @deadmitochondria @miycutie @chuuyasboots @shy-socially-awkward-intovert @beandaifuku @stygianoir @sonder-paradise @irethepotato @serenareiss @ashthemadwriter @mrsdostoevsky @creamygojo @disa-ster

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astroboots · 6 months

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omg tbh grumpy bored Miguel just having to sit, wait, hand over his credit card and then carry bags from lingerie store to lingerie store is so important to me and my daydreaming lmaoo. Punishment fits the crime imo!!

I also love the idea of him going solo and buying lingerie he likes and leaving her little presents because A) if she likes the pieces then perfect!! or B) if it’s not her taste then it’s perfectly okay for him to rip them of her and she doesn’t even get mad 😏😏

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x reader

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

When you had asked him to come with you to go shopping for lingerie, he had been thrilled.

Why wouldn't he be.

It had sounded like a great way to spend a few hours of on a lazy weekend together.

In his mind, it'd be you half naked, parading in scanty underwear for his eyes only.

A private fashion show, except sexy, instead of boring, where you'd be wearing a lacy piece that would barely cover your ass cheeks for him. A sheer peer of white panties that would leave nothing to the imagination. A frilly pair that was begging for him to rip them off right then and there, in the changing room.

He hadn't know then that it would be like this.

That apparently, in lingerie stores, men aren't allowed in the changing rooms. That he'd be banished in the lounging area, sat in a pink velvet armchair so tiny, it must be made for dolls that he can barely squeeze his ass into.

He's sitting here, exiled to this depressingly sad space of other bored husbands and boyfriends, who are half dozing off or staring at their phones like dreary zombies. Meanwhile he's hunched in on himself like a shocking elephant trying to fit in a goddamned teacup.

Not for the first time since he arrived in this world, the thought strikes Miguel that your world is a dystopia.

Because what other way is there to describe a world where one is supposed to sit sit mere feet away from their partner, while they get undressed and he's not allowed to look. Not allowed to touch. Not allowed to...

Shock.

This is torture. Why is he left out here like some abandoned dog out in the streets, forced to imagine what you look like in that tiny dressing room.

Forced to imagine you naked, with nothing on but a bra as you look at yourself in the mirror, and nothing he can do about it. Except sit here, as his dick stirs between his legs at the thought of it. Nothing to do but be tortured at the thought of you and your hands cupping your breasts as you try to decide if it's a good fit.

At the way you'd spin in front of your own reflection, and the way those sheer lacy panties he picked for you to try, that splits in the middle, would part as you move.

His fangs itch in his mouth at the thought of it. Fingers gripping into the arms of the armchair, as he resists every instinct to rush to his feet and break into your dressing room. Press you up against the wall until you're flat against it. Every inch of him pressed along yours, your legs wrapped around his waist, spreading you wide open as he --

"Miggy."

He breaks out of his reverie. Blinking up to see your face gaze down at him.

"I'm done," you tell him, showcasing the big shopping bag like a treasure.

Reaching over, he takes it from you. "What did you get in the end?"

"All of them. You've ripped so many I don't have anything nice to wear anymore except my old granny panties, so I figured I needed a whole new collection," you say a little pointedly as you serve him a side eye and steer him out of the shop.

He shakes the bag to peer inside, and the familiar white cotton and cherry patterns of the panties you wore this morning peeks out from the other wrapped items.

"Are those the panties you wore here?"

"Mhmm," you hum absentmindedly as you continue to steer the two of you towards the exit of the mall.

It's probably not easy for you to do, cause Miguel is larger than you, and the place is crowded, but he's too distracted to be more helpful to you in this moment.

Images of you flit through his mind. Of the cute sheer panties you'd picked up earlier hugging your hips even as you're walking next to him in this moment.

"Which one are you wearing now?" He has to swallow down the saliva flooding his tongue so he can ask the question.

Training his eyes on the bag, he tries to sneak another peek, even though every other piece has been carefully wrapped in pink tissue paper. "Is it the pink one? or the red ones?"

You cock your head slightly to the side and observe him with an amused smile lingering on your lips.

"Nope," you tell him, still with that casual smile.

"The sheer lacy one then?"

"No, not that one either."

"The baby blue?"

You shake your head and he frowns. This game of 20 questions is getting a bit too drawn out for his liking. And he doesn't quite get why you won't just give him the answer. Still there's only two more guesses left.

"The black satin?"

"No."

"So the--"

"I'm not wearing that one either," you finish before he even can point out the final option.

His eyebrow quirks in question. "What do you mean?

The gears in his heads are turning but not fully comprehending what you mean by that. He saw the ones you wore this morning in the shopping bag, and if you didn't wear any of the ones you bought then--

"I'm not wearing anything."

... Shock.

Dedication & Credits: To my most beloved @thirstworldproblemss for always having the patience to listen to my unhinged thoughts. She had the most delicious thots about what happens minutes after this.

How Miguel would be too impatient to wait until you made it back home. How Miguel would have you pinned against the wall in a semi-secluded area, all: “don’t worry about it, nena. I’ll know if anyone’s coming, and we’ll be long gone before they get here.” But then being so distracted by you and the feeling of you wrapped around his cock that you nearly get caught anyway, and it’s only because you notice in the last second before discovery and tap him in alarm that makes him manage to haul you out of sight before you got caught.

Follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #oscar isaac #spider man: across the spiderverse #spider man 2099 #across the spiderverse

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bluelinen · 21 days

Text

My Camboy

Pairing: Cam boy!Choso x AFAB!Reader Content/Warnings: smut, masturbation, no penetration, female anatomy, no use of y/n, porn no plot, well.. very little plot at the end

MDNI

Ting~*

You've always had this guilty pleasure for as long as you could remember. Since your very first time stumbling across that incredibly risqué audio.

You loved noises. Loved hearing the hoarse animalistic groans of pleasure as one grasped desperately for a release, strings of uncouth words and phrases dripping from a yearning mouth.

The carnal coarseness of such a voice, uncontrolled, unrestrained. It's what's led you down a path such as this, where that ting that notifies you of when his stream begins is the one thing you look forward to almost every week.

You don't see his face on stream, if you did you wouldn’t know what you’d do. It’d probably scare you shitless.

Not that he’s an ugly guy or anything. Quite the opposite really, you found the view of his face quite pleasant to look at every morning you saw him in your shared apartment.

See that was the thing. He’s your roommate.

Which meant that if you were brave enough or, you suppose, just plain crazy you could open the door from across your own and fully witness the complete uncensored revelry of Choso’s bare chest as his fingers brush across the button which makes your screen as well as your eyes light up.

A flurry of messages roll through the side bar proclaiming their greetings. A bunch of ‘hey's’, ‘hi’s’, ‘omg you’re so fine’s’. Even a few small gifts.

Yours was the largest of them, you made sure of that.

The bottom half of his face quirks up in a small smile as he whispers into the camera, his voice deep and airy. “It’s so nice to see all of you here..”

He reaches a hand up into his hair, out of sight from the camera, and a set of snaps from elastic releases his raven locks from the signature spiky style they usually were in, strands languishing comfortably along his shoulders. “I really hope that all of you have had a nice day today..”

He starts trailing a hand from his neck slowly down his broad chest. “Cause it’s been such a long.. long day for me y’know.”

“My muscles feel so tense..” His voice is a hypnotizing lull. “Tired too. I've been needing to find a way, a good way, to sooth this dulling ache.”

You yourself smile knowingly towards your screen.

He smiles back. “I’m sure you could help me with that though, couldn’t you?”

“Tell me you’ve had such a long tiring day too.. “ His sultry voice murmurs as his fingers inch down further towards his waist, his touch achingly slow, seamless as silk.

A spry fleet of comments surge in answer.

“The day is so hard isn’t it? So demanding..” He palms a growing bulge covered by the thin fabric of the shorts he’s wearing.

“We deserve a good release, don’t we?”

He fingers the edge of his waistband.

The chime of several gifts being given causes him to smile.

“Mm.. that’s what i like to hear.”

A low hum leaves his throat as he continues his faithful touch along his crotch and you watch with anticipation, waiting for the very moment he's decided, as you have already, that enough is enough.

It only takes a few minutes before he reaches his waning limit, a soft moan and quick snap of the waistband reveals the honest erection. Large and familiar it stands from it’s restraints proudly, clear substance already glistening from the sore crimson tip.

Choso smears the clear liquid along the head of his cock like a lubricant and you wonder how there's already so much, a small somewhat delusional part of you desperately wants to think that it's from the thought of you.

He begins moving his long fingers along his length, gentle smooth strokes coaxing a light train of moans to leave his lips. Each lithe sound causing an increasing tension to form between your legs.

“Ah.. i really wish you were here to help me with this..” He says to the camera, his voice light as he steadily increases his pace. “Fuck.”

He slides his fist from base to tip to base— and back again, low strained little whimpers following every stroke of his hardened cock sending a burning feeling of arousal to your core, little sparks of lightning dancing along the surface of your sodden clit. It’s only a matter of seconds before your hand reaches down to sooth your own aches, the onslaught of sounds desperately attracting one to the other like some burning magnet.

Sliding the pad of your finger along the soaking slit, building up your pace slowly, softly as you try to match the increasing intensity of his touch with your fingers upon your own wet cunt.

“Can you.. Mm.. Can you see how hard I am for you?” He groans as he suddenly stops to display the veiny painfully hard erection. He sits back lounging in his desk chair and it throbs and jerks impressively, engorged at the tip, almost pleading for release. Each involuntary jerk sends a flutter through your core and with a finger on your clit you pause, desperately wishing for him to continue so that you could also.

“I need.. ugh.. I need you- fuck.” He whimpers gingerly, smiling into the camera.

A dastardly scheme of course, but one you fall for every time. A click of the button with your free hand sends the swift notification across the screen notifying him of your donation as well as the donations of many many others, giving up your hard earned coins just for the man to continue stroking his hardon. It’s an awful cycle. But it's one you seemingly can’t stop. Audios, videos, they just didn’t cut it anymore, not in the same way.

Maybe it was the interactiveness, the control.

It was something magical about the way his cock twitches and how his veiny painted hands do something sinful about it while he whines and moans into the mic. You felt like you’d honestly sell your very soul just to see to it that the red rosy tip on your screen chases its unrelenting release every single time.

It allowed for you to do the same. And it felt so good, so damn good every single time.

Barely a minute and the flow of gifts had his fingers find firm fit around his shaft again, continuing the erotic train of degenerate touch. “Aah you always come through..” A chain of hitched sighs. “I Mm.. always know I can count on you.”

His pace only becomes faster and so does yours, his lovely voice, groans and ruts pulling you closer and closer to your peak as he chases his.

“Fuck i’m close.." He moans. "so so close.”

You can tell. The way his sweet lips part and quiver, wisping breath letting out those saccharine sounds.

The sticky head of his twitching cock ready to spill rich fluid.

It made your tongue swipe across your bottom lip in anticipation.

“Mm yeah.. I know you love this, you love.. ah.. you love watching this.” He releases a sequence of pitiful little haggard breaths. “You close? You about to c-cum? fuck.”

You sync every last stroke along your clit with his on his dick. Sharing every lewd moan and sigh, it’s just you and him in this dark little room.

A string of ineligible words fall from his sweet lips as he continues.

“Let’s cum together, ‘k-kay?”

You were getting there, a sheen of sweat forming across your damp forehead. You wanted to release, to come undone but not without him. You wanted.. no needed to hear him before you finished, it made the end all the more divine.

“Come on..” Your lips mutter softly under your breath. “Come on..”

“Oh God- oh fuck-”

He exclaims with a jerk of his hips before he comes undone with a final forceful tug, a delicious cry, thick milky spurts of cum wastefully flowing from the tip and pooling onto his thigh.

A dear part of you wishes you were actually there to put it to some good use.

Your brows pinch, nose scrunching as you let out a final moan. The good shivers running through you in great waves through your orgasm. You smile towards your screen, rush of honey swelling in your chest.

As you look down at your own mess, clear pearly liquid languishly dripping from the tips of your fingers you think.

Oh..

'this is becoming a bit of a problem, isn't it?’

*-*-*

Your teeth clink against cool glass as you promptly gulp down cold liquid, the crisp clear swill of the water that slips down your throat revitalises your body, clearing your mind.

A clear mind, god you needed that.

The glass is soon emptied and you rush to the sink for another one, you’re twisting the tap open when you hear the familiar footsteps of your roommate walk into the kitchen with a mumble.

You turn your head to find the man approaching you and you blank, panicking a little. It wasn't usually you found yourself face to face with the man you had just fucked yourself to a few minutes ago. It wasn't exactly the best scenario to find yourself in.

Fuck.

It was only a moment ago that Choso sent his goodbyes to the chat and it looks it with the light pink hue roaming the warm skin of his cheeks, the relaxed haze over his lazily lidded eyes. He looks so dazed.

Despite your dismay at his sudden appearance you can't help but appreciate the expression so honest on his face. The one thing about his streams was that you'd never witness the aftermath of those escapades, truly it was a shame.

He looks so fine after being fucked out.

Choso strolls into the kitchen with the cover of his usual cool look of indifference but you were very well aware of the many other expressions he was capable of making. From the nose down anyway. The sounds he was capable of making. It makes you have to stop from audibly swallowing as you hurriedly look away. You were going crazy.

Your breath catches when he comes ever closer, leaning towards you, dishevelled black mane of hair brushing forward as he does. You swallow. Do you look suspicious? Does he suspect anything?

You feel a rush of water overflowing from the forgotten glass, drip dropping along your fingers and into the kitchen sink, almost jumping as his arm reaches out— and passes you to reach the empty glass on the countertop behind you.

He narrows his eyes slightly at your flinching. “Something wrong?”

"No!" You exclaim immediately before realising you've overreacted a little.

You gave a false little cough before repeating the word. "No. I'm good." A little suave this time.

"Good?" He raises a brow.

"Yeah-yeah." You insist as you hurriedly turn off the tap. Taking your glass and swigging a sequence of urgent gulps. "Just a little jumpy today."

"Right.." Choso looks a little unsure but chooses not to press further as you cleared way for him to get to the sink.

As the water pours into his glass he suddenly remembers something and is about to say whatever that something is to you before you make like a magic trick and disappear into thin air, retreating immediately to your room before you can make a further fool of yourself.

Curling up into a ball upon your many blankets and hugging your favourite pillow underneath your chin you thrash around in your shame for a while before sighing and burying your head into the pillow.

God one day.

One day you really were gonna get caught.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: First post here rawr👹 genuinely think i'm tweaking, hope y'all enjoyed it though ^^

Art drawn by @//Umbra3terna on tumblr & edited by me :33

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froggibus · 1 year

Text

The Three Times You Share A Bed - Leon S Kennedy

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x reader

Genre: fluff, some light angst thrown in towards the end?

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: two times you sleep in leon's bed, and the one time he sleeps in yours

CW: roommate! Leon, kinda friends to lovers?, light angst, abandonment issues, paranoia, fear + insomnia, mentions of zombies, bedsharing, leon has intimacy issues (get therapy challenge)

OMG HAPPY RE4 RELEASE!!! I am SO excited to play once im done work this weekend! Leon looks so damn fine in the gameplay ive seen and i am going FERAL! pls no spoilers for anything new in the game! <3

RE4 remake spoiler free zone!! I have yet to play the remake so there are no spoilers in this!

————

The telltale clicking of a key in the door has you on your feet in seconds, abandoning the plush throw blanket on the couch. Before it even opens, you’re standing on the doormat. You feel a little silly, like a golden retriever waiting for its owner, but the shame is washed away when Leon steps through the door.

It’s been three weeks since you’ve last seen your roommate and best friend, and just as long since you last had company. He raises an eyebrow at the sight of you standing in front of him, the dark circles under his eyes becoming more prominent.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He sighs and drops his backpack on the floor, locking the door behind him.

“How was it?”

You fight the urge to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and inhale his scent, knowing that’s not what friends do. Still, the feeling is there and if he went in for it, you’d reciprocate in a heartbeat.

He opens the fridge and beams at the fully stocked drinks and snacks. He cracks open a can of cider and leans against the counter. “Long,” he admits, “way too long. And my nose is still burning from the smell of rotten flesh.” You crinkle your nose at the thought. Leon’s never been much of a talker and most of his work being classified didn’t help. Whenever something wasn’t top secret, though, you were sure to sit there and listen no matter how horrific the details were.

You settle in on the couch next to the agent, listening to him drone on about a zombie-like creature that had peeling flesh and fifty eyes. You could vividly picture it from his words alone, and the image of the creature sent a shiver up your spine.

Leon talks for hours, spilling every miniscule detail of every horror he encounters. You stay the whole time, nodding along. Leon laughs at the way you scrunch your face in disgust or close your eyes in fear. He hates how cute you are, but he can’t seem to stop telling you stories. After many hours and a few drinks between the two of you, he’s almost run out of stories to tell.

Leon pats your shoulder gently, collecting his cans from where he’d set them on the coffee table. “I need a shower,” he states. “I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n.”

“Go shower. You stink,” you joke and punch him in the ribs.

He feigns injury at your blow, pretending to suck in a breath like you’d really hurt him. He keeps up the facade the whole way to his bedroom, only leaving character when he shuts the door behind him.

It’s only when he’s disappeared that you realize how late it's gotten—and how dark. Even though your shared apartment is on the 19th floor, you can’t help but worry something is going to crawl through your window. You shake the thoughts away and get ready for bed, but every gust of wind and rustling of leaves makes you flinch.

You close your eyes and tug your comforter over your head, hoping that if there is something out there, it won’t know you’re there. You toss and turn for a while longer, staying dead quiet and pushing your fears away.

Finally, you can’t take it anymore. You take a deep breath, throw your comforter off of your shoulders, and sprint to Leon’s room. It’s like your brain is on autopilot—it knows exactly where to go to be safe.

You don’t knock on the door, instead quietly twisting the knob and slipping in through a crack in the door. Leon sits up as soon as your feet touch the wooden floor, eyes snapping towards your silhouette. He’s been a light sleeper ever since Racoon City, waking at the slightest of sounds.

He relaxes at the sight of you but only for a second. He glances at his digital clock, eyes widening at the time. “Y/n? What are you still doing up?”

“I-I couldn’t sleep…I feel like a flesh eating zombie is going to climb through my window and eat me.”

He chuckles. “That would be my fault.” He shuffles over in bed and pulls back the comforter. “You’re more than welcome to stay here for the night.”

You crawl into bed next to him, keeping as much distance between the two of you as possible. You can feel his body heat radiating through the blankets and smell his body wash on his skin. The feeling is new, yet so familiar it eases you instantly.

“Leon?”

He hums in response.

“Is it safer to sleep next to the window or the door? From like, a secret agent standpoint.”

“We’re on the 19th floor so window, but unless it's a hotel room, the door. You would more than likely hear it if they broke down the front door so you’d have more time to get out.”

You think for a second. “Can we switch places?”

“Honestly, y/n,” he laughs dryly, “the safest place to sleep right now is next to me.”

Your face warms at that and you nod, relaxing into his pillows. While you drift off to sleep, Leon watches over you. He knows nothing is going to come for you here, but he did promise to keep you safe, and he’ll keep that promise no matter what.

—

When you get home, you’re in a foul mood. You practically throw the groceries onto the counter before walking to your room and throwing yourself onto your bed. It’s been a long day. All of the stores were so busy you could hardly get through the aisles, and all of the people you encountered were rude.

Leon comes out of his room a few minutes later. Seeing the groceries abandoned on the counter, his first thought is to check on you. He doesn’t check on you, though. Not yet, anyway. He knows you’ll just be more upset if the frozen items melt and the milk sits out all night, so he sets out on putting them away.

After almost an hour of laying in your bed trying to recuperate after the day you’ve had, you’re snapped out of it by a text.

Leon: Come here, I have a surprise for you

You don’t feel like leaving your bed, but you force yourself out of it anyway. It’s not Leon you’re mad at. Leon is probably the only person in the world you don’t hate right now. You knock on his door softly, holding your arms behind your back.

“Come in!” He shouts.

You open the door, shuffling into his room and closing it behind you. Your jaw drops when you see a tray in the middle of his bed piled high with your favorite snacks, drinks and two wine glasses. Leon pats the spot next to him and you’re happy to oblige, relaxing onto the mattress.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

He shrugs, pouring you a glass of wine. “It already seems like you had a bad day, I just wanted to do something to make it a little better for you.”

“Thank you.” He nods in acknowledgement, turning on his tv and handing you the remote. “You can choose the first movie. Just—maybe no zombies?”

You snort at that. Classic Leon, using his corny jokes to make light of even the worst of situations. You settle on an old favorite movie you love, handing the remote back to the blond and switching it for a wine glass.

Between your favorite movie, the delicious wine and your favorite snacks, your spirits are lifted in no time. One movie turns into two, and two turns into three. Soon enough, you’re dozing off in Leon’s bed.

He moves the tray of snacks and the glasses off of the bed to give you more room to sprawl out. Laying down next to you, he watches you sleep. A part of him wishes he could see this every night—the same sight he fantasizes about on even the hardest of missions.

He flicks off the lamp on his side table and settles in. “Good night, cutie,” he mumbles, knowing you’re far too deep in sleep to hear him.

—

You wake up in the middle of the night, moonlight streaming through the window and illuminating Leon’s bedroom. You’re still numb from sleep, your senses dulled just enough that it takes you a minute to realize that something is grabbing you. No, not grabbing—holding.

You blink a few times. Leon is laying next to you, his chest pressed to your back, his arms around your waist. You can feel the slow beating of his heart and the heat coming off of his skin. He’s so close it overwhelms you, yet it’s all you’ve ever wanted.

You think about slipping away but you know what a light sleeper he is, and you don’t think you could handle it if he woke up and saw how close you were. You close your eyes and try to calm the beating in your heart so you can fall back asleep.

When you wake up again, Leon is gone. Your body feels cold where his once was. You sit up—is he showering? He can’t be, the bathroom door is open. You sit up, letting the blankets fall off of you. You swing your legs over the side of his bed, walking out to the kitchen, but he’s not there either.

Did he leave to go get something?

You check your phone, expecting to see a text saying he ran out to go get more milk or something, but there’s nothing. You sigh, typing up a message and sending it to him.

Y/N: where’d you go?

You practically jump when your phone lets out a noise, but your heart sinks when you see what it is.

Message Not Delivered. Try Again?

You sigh. That can only mean one thing: he’s on another mission. Typical Leon, disappearing in the middle of the night to go god knows where for god knows how long. The frustration bubbles up in your chest and you feel like hitting something, but you don’t. It’s not worth it.

You try to keep your mind off of his sudden disappearance by throwing yourself into chores. You wash his bedding and make his bed, then wash your own. You sweep and mop the floors and vacuum the carpets. You dust the blinds.

It doesn’t help.

Your mind keeps wandering back to the fact that he left without saying goodbye. That he woke up at some ungodly hour, saw you laying in his arms, got up and left without another word. He didn’t even leave a note. He really cares that little.

You shake your head and even though the pit in your stomach makes you feel like not eating, you make yourself a sandwich regardless. Seeing the untouched groceries in the fridge just adds to the feeling.

Even though you know he’s not going to get it, you pull out your phone and start typing.

Y/N: do you at least know when you’ll be back?

Message Not Delivered. Try Again?

The message makes you roll your eyes. Leon fucking Kennedy.

—

A week goes by, and then two, and you still hear nothing from your roommate. You send texts here and there, hoping for an answer, but none of them go through. Eventually, you start venting to him through there, too. Expressing how frustrated you are that he didn’t say goodbye, how annoying your feelings are, how sometimes you wish you didn’t know him so you didn’t have to go through this.

It’s a random Sunday night when you’re sitting on the couch, watching trash reality tv and eating snacks. It’s cold in the apartment, but you can’t be bothered to turn on the heat. Only when your arms puff up with goosebumps do you scour the room for a sweater, settling on a random one hanging on the back of a chair.

It’s Leon’s, an old one from the Police Academy. His smell floods your nose when you pull it over your head, and it's so bittersweet you don’t know if you should laugh or cry. You settle back on the couch, but a rustling at the window makes you freeze in your tracks.

It stops for a moment, and you can almost convince yourself you’ve imagined it or it’s a part of the show—until it happens again. You scramble for the remote, pausing it so you can hear better. The noise starts again, and you waste no time in hightailing it to your bedroom and slamming the door behind you.

You flop onto your bed, trying (and failing) to remind yourself that it’s just the wind. That you’re safe here. But it’s hard when it’s late and you’re tired and you’re alone and the only person you feel safe with just abandoned you.

You curl up into a ball, pulling Leon’s sweater over your mouth and inhaling the familiar scent. It’s enough to calm you down, if only for a few moments. If you close your eyes, you can almost trick yourself into thinking he’s there, and for now, that’s good enough.

—

Leon knows he fucked up when he gets back to the country and turns on his phone. Almost fifty messages from you, each one more sad than the last. He wants to slap himself—why couldn’t he just grow a pair and say goodbye? Why did he have to be so noncommittal?

He reads every message on the cab ride back to the apartment, and his heart breaks for you. He didn’t think about how you would drive yourself crazy over him or how worried you must have been. All he thought about was getting the call for the mission in the middle of the night and not wanting to wake you up.

But he didn’t abandon you. He thought about you every day and god—he wishes he could have talked to you. Hearing your voice and seeing your face was enough to make everything better. With the horrors he’s seen lately, all he wants is to be back in that bed with you for one more night.

He’s quiet coming into the apartment, hoping he doesn’t wake you up or scare you. And even though he knows you’re sleeping, he’s still disappointed you’re not waiting at the door for him.

He tosses his backpack into his room and strips off all of his holsters and velcro. He’s quiet walking down the hallway to your room and even quieter opening the door. He relaxes at the sight of you curled up in a ball.

You look so cute and so peaceful and—is that his sweater? The sight brings a smile to his face. He closes the door behind him with a soft click, climbing into the bed next to you.

You wake up when the bed dips down and arms wrap around you. You’re so tired you don’t even care who or what it is.

“If you’re gonna kill me, can you at least let me sleep first?” You mumble.

You fully awake as soon as you hear Leon’s laugh.

“You’re back?” You say, and you hate the way your voice cracks.

You turn around to face him, tired ocean eyes meeting yours. He nods sleepily, “‘m sorry I didn’t say goodbye. It was stupid of me.”

“It’s okay,” and it really is okay. All the resentment you felt melted away at the sight of him.

“C’mere,” he mumbles.

You lay your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around him. You can hear his heart rate slow down at the contact.

“I just—I just need you tonight.” Those are big words coming from the agent, and they leave you completely stunned. He must have seen or done something horrible while he was away for him to be this vulnerable, even with you.

“You can have me tonight.” You try to keep your voice even, “you can have me whenever you need me,”

He kisses the top of your head. “But I always need you.”

“Then I’m always yours.”

Neither of you speak after that, Leon falling into a light sleep. You stay up a while longer, watching the blond boy rest beneath you. He looks so fragile like this, you can’t imagine him fighting off monsters and handling weapons. You kiss his collarbone through his shirt and let yourself fall asleep with him.

#resident evil angst #resident evil fluff #resident evil #re4 leon #resident evil 4 #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #x you #x reader

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eufezco · 7 months

Text

SUPER SHY - JOEL MILLER x FEM!READER

SUMMARY – when Joel's keeping you company while you're showering, he sees something he wasn't supposed to.

english isn't my first language <3 // this is pure SMUT

A/N – omg it's been so long but i literally have no inspiration so if anyone has any request... also, i've been writing for the walking dead, especially daryl, but that's still in my drafts because i don't know if there's anyone interested in that. ANYWAYS, i hope this isn't so bad

He didn't mind. He truly didn't care. He was sitting on the toilet, bent forward, with his elbows on his knees and one of his legs shaking out of impatience. It was true that he'd rather be doing other things but with a bit of luck you'd be done soon and he'd leave. Although he didn't have much to do either, he was sure they needed some last-minute people to patrol.

He had been sitting on that toilet every night for at least thirty minutes every time you took a shower. Since you lacked music, you needed some other type of distraction and Joel wasn't the best for it but it was your only option.

"What was the last movie you saw?"

"I don't know. I can't remember."

"I'm sure you do remember, you are just too lazy to think. For me, it was Spiderman, my brother took me to the movies but I don't remember enjoying it. What was yours?"

"I think it was Catch Me If You Can."

"Never heard of that."

Of course not, he said to himself. The sound of falling water made your voice sound fainter so he had to readjust his position to hear you better. His back was now against the toilet, he ran his hands over his face. It was starting to get a little hot inside the bathroom as well. Joel looked in your direction, trying to understand what you were saying but quickly looked away. Joel closed his eyes tightly and then opened them wide again without knowing what to do. When he leaned back and looked in your direction, he expected nothing, only the curtain that was hiding you, but instead, he found a perfect view of your round and wet ass.

Joel swallowed nervously and shook his head, trying to erase that image from his mind, but it was so perfect and the water slid so easily down it. No, no, no, fuck he mumbled, massaging his temples. The way his teeth would sink into your skin there, and they would mark your soft skin just right.

"Are you okay?" You peeked your head through the curtain. Your brow furrowed as you saw him looking away.

He nodded.

"Can you pass me the bathrobe, then?"

Fuck, you were doing this on purpose, he thought. He stood from the toilet and you waited behind the curtains. You went out of the shower wrapped in the robe.

"I'll leave so you can change." He announced. His eyes briefly looked away and moved down to your breasts covered by your bathrobe, he could see how hard your nipples were and how the drops of water slid down your cleavage. You raised your eyebrows and Joel never looked you in the face again. He tried to get out of the bathroom, ashamed enough already, when you blocked his way with your body.

"I saw you looking at me, Joel. You won't get away so easily."

He didn't know what to say. Should he apologize? Should he leave anyway? He'd been looking after you practically since this started, since you two met in the woods, the least he could do was apologize for looking at you in such an inappropriate way.

"When was the last time you saw a naked woman?"

Your question caught him off guard. Joel shook his head and took his eyes off you, knowing beforehand what you were about to do. The bathrobe slipped off your shoulders and Joel closed his eyes, not even daring to look at your reflection in the mirror. You couldn't be doing this to him, he was not like the boys you'd been hanging out in Jackson.

"Look at me."

He shook his head. You told him again and this time his eyes laid on yours. You flashed him a smile, how innocent sweet Joel.

"I want you to look at my body, Joel."

Joel called your name, shaking his head again and swallowing nervously.

"I know you want to do it, I saw how you looked at me before. I want you too, but this isn't going to work if you can't even look at me."

His eyes shyly moved from yours to your breasts. He took a glance and closed his eyes. You smiled victorious. You guided one of his hands to caress one side of your body. Joel dared to look at the path his hand was making through your body, how soft the skin of your waist felt against his rough fingers.

You led his hand to cup one of your tits. Your nipple immediately became hard on contact with his palm and your pussy was already clenching around nothing. You'd dreamed so many times about how would his touch feel, and he was barely applying any pressure, nor squeezing it or pinching your nipple, he was just holding your tit in his hand.

Your hand pinched his chin and made him look up at you. His eyes were bright, darker than you'd ever seen them before, and his pupils were big. You fluttered your lashes, inocently and your thumb caressed his lips. You came close enough to his mouth for your breaths to become one, you could feel his beard tickling your lips. You ran your tongue over his lips and he leaned in for a kiss, his lips were so soft and gentle against yours compared to the thick hair of his beard.

You pushed his shoulders and made him sit on the toilet again. His cock was so hard and ready for you, already leaking precum against the fabric of his underwear. He was still unsure about this, not because he didn't want to do it but because you were so beautiful and he was an old man that doubled your age, and his cock was so hard and already throbbing against his stomach, it was almost embarrassing.

Joel put both of his hands on your hips when you placed one of your legs on each side of his body. You wrapped your fingers around his hard cock, giving it a couple of strokes and getting multiple groans from him. You could feel him twitching between your fingers. He was big, some black hairs like the ones on his head decorated the base of his cock and a prominent vein ran down its length, but the most important thing was, that he was thick. You could barely take it all in one hand, and you knew the stretch was going to be perfect.

You lined up his cock at your entrance, allowing only his tip to go inside you, and then you gently lowered yourself. One of your hands moved down to your clit and rub it to get used to the sensation of Joel filling you. He gave you all the time you needed but you were tight and he could feel his cock jumping inside you. Every time your fingers rubbed your clit your cunt clenched and squeezed him even harder.

"You good?" Joel asked, caressing one of your cheeks with the back of his hand. You nodded. "You sure? Oh, fuck-" He moaned when you started rolling your hips against his. Your movements were very delicate as your fingers continued working on your bundle of nerves, helping you to get even wetter and making it easy for you to take him. Joel could feel you dripping down the inside of his legs.

"Yeah, that's a good girl, fuck-" His eyes were locked on where you two connected although he could only see how his cock had completely disappeared inside your pussy. He was enjoying the way your tiny fingers played with your clit.

"Still good?" He asked again and you nodded. You suddenly stopped the movement of your hips against his and he was afraid that you'd hurt yourself. You placed your hands on his broad shoulders, getting a firm grip there to help you lift your hips from his lap. You pulled him out of you, his cock glistening with your juices, and then you dropped yourself back down onto his cock.

A sharp moan came out of Joel's throat and his fingers sank into the flesh of your ass. You repeated that again and again, finally getting used to Joel's width and to the sting of him going inside you deeper and deeper each time. Your hands moved from his shoulder to his face, cupping both of his cheeks and guiding his lips to yours, the sounds that escaped your mouths became one. His hands massaged your breasts shamelessly this time, his palms rubbed your nipples while you leaned your head back, giving him perfect access to your neck.

"I can't- I can't anymore." You cried out, your movements becoming more and more sloppy.

"It's okay. You did well." He gasped, his hands on your hips slowly guiding your movements, giving you enough time to recompose. Joel helped you to wrap your legs around his body, so that when he stood up from the toilet, he could move you with him, his dick still balls deep inside you.

Joel sat you on the sink and he splayed your legs completely open. You sat up on your elbows, looking through your eyelashes as he was admiring how your pussy sucked him. His dick slid inside you easily, his thrusts were stronger than you thought they would be and they made your whole body shake with them. Your throat felt dry and the burn in the pit of your stomach felt warmer and warmer. You dug your nails into his shoulders and pulled him to you, chest to chest.

Your hips rolled involuntarily against his, and you nodded to everything he muttered at you through gritted teeth. Yes, you were a good girl. Yes, you were his good girl. Yes, your pussy belonged to him. Yes, you were about to cum. Yes, you wanted his cum, and yes, you wanted it inside. And who was he to deny you your wishes? With a groan coming straight from his chest and your legs shaking and closing around his body, you both came seconds apart.

Joel stayed inside you, his head resting on your shoulder as you played with the hair on the back of his neck. You giggled. "Look at the shy one."

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moonstruckme · 6 months

Note

Omg doctor!remus sounds like such a great bf!! I need him 😭 could you please write a full story (I can’t think of the name so I’m going with story) on it please? You’re writing is top notch honestly 🫶🫶 I absolutely love ittt

Thanks my lovely!

part 1 | part 2

Doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

When you get out of bed Remus is already in the kitchen, the smell of coffee and eggs wafting to meet you down the hallway. Normally you wake with your stomach already rumbling and the prospect of a ready-made breakfast from your sweet boyfriend would make you salivate, but this morning you can’t seem to locate your appetite. Must be due to the big dinner you had last night; the dahl James had sent Remus home with had been enough to feed a family, but the two of you had scarfed it all down nonetheless.

“You slept in this morning,” Remus observes when he hears you come into the kitchen.

You snort, leaning against the counter to watch him work. “Yeah, a whole extra ten minutes.”

“Hey, that’s a lot for you,” he replies teasingly, but it’s true. You’re almost always up before Remus’ alarm goes off, the sunrise enough to rouse you while Remus turns into his pillow, moaning and groaning. “You must have been sleeping hard. You were mouth breathing all night.”

You know; you’d woken with a sore throat and drool crusted on one side of your chin. “You’re such a princess,” you tell him, sniffing harshly in an attempt to clear your nasal passages. They must have gotten clogged from you not breathing through them all night. “I can’t believe my mouth breathing wakes you up when I have to sleep through your snores every night.”

“You love my snores, they’re like a kitten’s purr,” Remus contests lightly. He flips an egg, looking at you a little more closely as you lean hard against the counter, eyes still droopy and aching with exhaustion. You can’t seem to shake the sleep from you this morning. “You doing alright, sweetheart? You look a bit flushed.”

“Hm?” you blink at him, having become transfixed upon the sizzling egg in the pan. “Yeah, m’just tired. How’re you, honey?”

Remus’ stare narrows. “I’m good, but you’re redirecting.” He flips the egg onto a plate, turning to give you his full attention. “C’mere, darling. Let me have a look at you.”

You sigh, a tad dramatic and your boyfriend’s smile indicates he knows it, but cross the kitchen to stand in front of him. Remus grips your hips in long-fingered hands, hoisting you onto the counter and positioning himself between your legs before you can protest.

You roll your eyes as he brings his knuckles to your forehead. His brows cinch, and he moves to cup the back of your neck, absentmindedly smoothing the baby hairs at your nape. “Mm, thought so,” he hums. “You’re running a bit hot, my love.”

You make a low whining sound. “Seriously? I have to get ready for work in, like, ten minutes.”

“Don’t worry about that, there’ll be no work for you today.” Remus gives your thigh a little pat. “Stay put while I get the thermometer.”

You lean your head back against the cabinets, closing your eyes against the worsening ache in your temples. “This is overkill,” you call after him. “I don’t feel bad enough to call out of work.”

“This,” Remus says, and you can hear the bathroom drawer opening and shutting, “is called getting ahead of it, dove.” You open your eyes as he comes back into the room, too late to avoid him seeing the lethargy in your features. A tiny divot appears between his brows. “I’m glad you don’t feel too poorly yet, but pushing through will only give it time to get worse,” he murmurs, cupping your face in one hand as he settles the thermometer in your opposite ear. His thumb strokes at your jaw while you wait for the beep.

When it does go off, Remus pulls it away with a frown. “Alright, I guess we’re both staying home today.”

“What?” you move to hop down from the counter, but Remus stops you with a hand on your shoulder, turning the thermometer so you can see it.

“You’re on the high end of thirty eight, sweetheart. I’m not leaving you here by yourself when it could still get worse.” His touch slides up to your face again, thumbing sympathetically at the overwarm skin of your cheek. “What symptoms are you feeling?”

“Please don’t call out of work because of me,” you insist. “I’ll take it easy, I promise. You have appointments, Rem.”

“Not very many today, and Sheila can take some of those,” he says patiently. “What are your symptoms, honey?”

You try not to look too sullen, but now that Remus is hellbent on taking care of you, it’s difficult not to acknowledge the achy, feverish feeling you’ve carried out of bed with you. “My nose is stuffed up,” you admit, and Remus nods like he knows that already, “and my throat kind of hurts.”

Remus hums sympathetically, rubbing at your leg. “Anything else? Nausea, muscle pain, headache?”

“Headache,” you confirm quietly.

“Mhm.” His fingers probe gently at the lymph nodes around your neck and jaw. You do your best to stay still for him. “Did you have your flu jab?”

You’re quiet, and Remus drops his hands, giving you a despondent look.

“Dove. How many times did I remind you to go?”

“It was never convenient!” You protest, growing sheepish under his accusatory gaze. “And I never usually get the flu anyways.”

He makes an incredulous sound. “I seem to recall you saying the same thing last year.”

“That was a cold,” you insist.

“Right.” He rolls his eyes at you, but the squeeze he gives your knee indicates he’s not irredeemably upset with you, even if you are in trouble. “When you get your medical degree, you can try arguing that one.” He turns away from you, opening the fridge. “Until then, I want you to drink this—” he passes you a bottle of water “—and then go get in bed.”

You grin. “Remus Lupin, if you wanted me in bed so badly, you didn’t have to come up with this whole charade to get me there.”

Remus has learnt well how to hide a smile from spending so much time with James and Sirius, yet you swear you detect the faintest twitch of his lips as he rolls his eyes at you. “Glad to see your wit’s still intact somewhere in that slow-roasting brain of yours,” he comments.

“You can’t set up one like that and expect me not to knock it down.” You shrug with a sniffle. He gives the water bottle in your hand a pointed look, and you open it, taking an exaggerated sip. “Thanks for taking care of me,” you say in a more genuine tone.

Remus visibly softens, leaning forward to kiss your cheek. “That’s what I do,” he replies.

“I really brought your work home, huh?”

“It’s not work, honey.” He closes his eyes, brushing another kiss against your forehead. “Not when it’s you.”

You wonder if a heart can break your ribs from swelling too large. Maybe you’ll ask him sometime.

964 notes · View notes

countryclubkook · 2 months

Note

thinking of topper’s gf cheating on him with rafe🤭

Favorite Secret

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Warnings: smut, cheating, mentions of alcohol, violence, blood, creampie, unprotected sex, P in V, not proofread

Summary: Your secret affair with Rafe almost goes terribly wrong when Topper decides to call in the middle of a hookup…almost

A/N: omg hii!! it’s been so so long since i’ve been on this account but I got a new job and a boyfriend🤭 life has been very very busy the last like year or so but I got the urge to write for my fav boy so I hope you guys enjoy this quick little fic🤍 and I hope all of you are well!

“Fuck Rafe, feels so good oh my god” you cried out, arching your back as your eyes rolled back when his cock hit the perfect spot inside of you. It was fucked up, screwing around with your boyfriends best friend, especially when Topper treated you so well. He bought you everything you asked for, took you on nice dates, held the door open, complimented you. Never did anything to hurt you…until that night, until that one party changed everything.

“Ugh come on Top, i’m begging you to just come for like 10 minutes. If you still don’t want to be there after that we can leave and just come back here, watch movies or something” you’d been begging for the last hour, it was the biggest party of the year and his best friend was hosting but he said he was too tired to go. You knew it was actually just because there had been whispers on the island that Sarah planned to crash it with John B and their new pogue friends.

As much as he swore to you he was over it, you know that wasn’t true and you were fine with it. You trusted him, after all you were the one there for him when she broke his heart the first time, having to be the one to pick up the pieces every single time he gave her chance after chance, you knew what it’d done to him and his trust. Having to risk seeing her there with the guy she cheated on him with didn’t exactly sound like such a fun time.

“Listen I love you, but I really would just rather stay in tonight okay babe? There will be many more parties that we can go to in the future” he said, giving you a soft smile and cupping your cheek with his hand. He could see the disappointment on your face and felt bad, you were obviously excited about this and here he was shutting it down over rumors.

“Okay, whatever you want to do” you let out a defeated sigh and nuzzled your cheek closer into his palm, not wanting to argue over something like this. It just wasn’t worth it and you did enjoy nights in with just the two of you, plus he was right, there would be another party by next weekend.

“Damn it” he muttered under his breath before shaking his head slightly, “Okay okay, 10 minutes and that’s it, deal?” he barely got out the last word before you were squealing and throwing your arms around his neck He wrapped his arms around your waist and let out a small laugh, the smile on your face lighting up the whole room.

“Thank you thank you thank you! We’re going to have so much fun okay? You’re not going to want to leave by the time those 10 minutes are up, this is going to be the best night ever” famous. last. words.

Everything was great, the two of you were having the time of your life. Drinking and dancing together, talking with Rafe and a few of your other friends, then you slipped away for five minutes to use the bathroom, 5 minutes. Who knew so much could go wrong in just 5 minutes.

You walked out to see a crowd forming around two people and heard shouting, you’d expected to walk over and see two guys fighting like usual. Both of them far too drunk to even make contact with the other, but instead you saw your boyfriend on top of John B, his fist connecting to his cheek over and over and over again. You didn’t even like the kid but seeing blood and spit fly from his mouth and his gurgled wails of pain made you feel bad and you knew you needed to stop it.

You saw Rafe standing nearby watching, small smirk on his face as his eyes darted from the two boys to his sister begging Topper to stop while she sobbed. You walked up to him and touched his arm to bring his attention to you.

“Y/N! What’s up?” he said it so nonchalantly, like the scene in front of you wasn’t even happening. You knew he hates the pogues, hell you know he’d let John B die right then and there and feel no remorse, but he was the only one you knew had even the slightest chance of stopping it.

“Rafe you have to make them stop, it’s over okay? If you guys wanted to teach them a lesson i think they’ve learned it so can you please make it stop?” you could see him thinking about it, his brows furrowing ever so slightly and eyes going from you to Topper and John B to Sarah and then back to you.

“Mmm, I don’t know Y/N/N…kind of feel like he deserves it don’t you? I mean my slut of a sister cheats on my best friend, your boyfriend, with that good for nothing pogue and then they have the nerve to show up here? To rub it in his face? Why should I stop them?” he cocked his head and gave you a smirk, leaning against the wall with one hand in his pocket and the other wrapped around his red solo cup full of god knows what. You knew the only way to convince him was to use the one card you knew would work, the one you hated using against him in all the time you knew him.

“Because you don’t want your dad finding out about it. You’re not even supposed to be throwing parties here, what happens if a pogue ends up dead because of the party and Ward finds out? I couldn’t care less if he dies, i’m just trying to save your ass right now so please” you saw his jaw clench, watched his chest start rising and fall slowly, more heavily than before, and you knew it worked.

“Fuck! Fine, i’ll handle it” he yelled before throwing his cup on the ground and walking over to the two, by this point John B was barely conscious and it’s like Topper was in his own world. Rafe walked over and pulled him off by the collar of his shirt before ushering Sarah to attend to her boyfriend, screaming that the party was over and for everyone to get the fuck out.

People quickly dispersed, whispering to each other about what just happened, until it was just the three of you left at tannyhill. Top was still fuming, veins bulging out, sweat dripping down his forehead, chest rapidly heaving, knuckles bruised and bloody, a crazed look in his eyes. You tried to walk up to him to calm him down but it’s like he couldn’t even see you, he instead turned around and walked to his jeep before getting in and driving away, leaving you stranded.

“What the fuck?!” you screamed, standing at the bottom of the driveway watching the taillights disappear as they got further and further away.

You walked back up to the porch where Rafe was waiting, looking awkwardly at the ground unsure of what to say. What are you supposed to do in this situation other than offer them a ride…or in this case alcohol.

“I’m sorry Y/N, that was shitty of him. Give him some time to cool off and he’ll come back to his senses, if you uh, if you want you could just crash here. I would offer to drive you home but you know…” he said, making a brief gesture to himself “i’m kind of drunk so, don’t really want to risk hurting you. There’s plenty of alcohol if you want to just get drunk and pass out in the guest room, the beds freshly made and I think Sarah still has some clothes here that would fit you.”

“Thank you Rafe, that’s really sweet of you. Do you think you could um, stay with me? Just hang out here and talk, drink a little, I just don’t want to be alone right now” you sounded so pathetic, tear stained cheeks and puffy red eyes.

“Yeah, yeah absolutely”

One drink turned into another and then another, the both of you drunk and giggling while you talked. And then it happened, one little glance at his lips in a moment of shared silence, his hand tucking your hair behind your ear, and you were in his lap kissing him. His hands roaming all over your body until you were pulling away to tell him to take you to the bedroom.

Clothes flying, drunken squeals and giggles slipping out between your moans, the way he made you feel, those were the only things you can clearly remember. And then you woke up the next morning staring at his naked chest, but you didn’t feel guilty for it, instead you wanted it to happen again.

And it did, it happened multiple times a week. Topper did apologize, made up for his behavior that night, but you’d already got a taste of Rafe and now you were hooked. He never suspected anything, didn’t notice the little shared glances between the two of you when you all hung out, the way Rafe’s hand would brush against your thighs, his little whispers in your ear that made you squirm, he was just happy you forgave him. You never thought you’d be at risk getting caught until now, when you were on all fours and Rafe was thrusting into you from behind, one hand tangled in your hair and the other gripping your hip to pull you back into his cock. The both of you were so lost in pleasure that Rafe almost didn’t hear his phone going off, he quickly moved to grab it off the table and answer it.

“Topper, what’s up man?” your eyes widened, panic starting to kick in. You’d thought it was over, he knew, someone had seen something and told him, he put the pieces together, he was calling to tell him he knew.

“Y/N? Yeah she came by to pick something up, said she left it here the last time you guys were over and she had to be out this way anyway. Think she’s still upstairs” you let out a moan when he thrusted back into you unexpectedly, turning your head back to look at him with a bewildered expression. He just gave a a smirk and held his finger to his lips before moving it back to your hip and pulling you back into him to meet each thrust.

You dropped your face into the mattress to muffle any loud moans, pure bliss taking over your body each time Rafe’s cock pressed against that little spot inside your pussy, hoping the call would be over soon. And then the son of a bitch flips you over, puts you on your back and gives you that look. You know, the one that just screams ‘i’m up to no good and you’re about to hate me for this’.

“What are you doing?” you whispered, looking up at him in confusion while trying not to make a sound.

“Actually, she just came down. You wanna talk to her real quick before she finishes up and heads that way?” if looks could kill he’d be six feet under right about now, you shook your head but it was too late, the phone was by your ear and you had no choice.

“Hey baby” it came out shakier than planned and you hoped he wouldn’t question it, it was a lot harder hiding the fact you were cheating on your boyfriend when the man you’re cheating with had his cock buried deep inside your pussy thrusting into you like his life depends on it while on call with said boyfriend.

“Is everything okay? You sound a little winded babe” he was always so concerned, wanting to make sure you were okay at all times if he even suspected something was wrong.

“Better tell him you’re okay princess, don’t let him find out his best friend is balls deep inside his girlfriends pretty pussy” Rafe whispered in your ear, leaving open mouth kisses along your neck and chest.

“Yeah, just a lot of running around the house looking for my ring is a-all” you stuttered out when Rafe pushed all the back into you again, biting your lip and squeezing your eyes shut.

“Okay…well I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight? There’s this really nice restaurant i’ve been wanting to take you to, finally managed to get a reservation, and there was something I wanted to talk to you about” you weren’t even fully listening to what he was saying to be honest, you were paying more attention to how good you felt and the smell of Rafe’s cologne, the way his skin felt against yours, how your bodies seemed to mold together perfectly.

“Yea-yeah babe. Sounds great” you were about to let out a moan when long ring clad fingers found their way into your mouth and you, on instinct, bit down slightly.

“Great! I’ll be at your place to pick you up in like an hour okay? I love you”

“Great! Love you too bye” you quickly got out before hanging up and letting out a moan, digging your nails into Rafe’s back.

“Fuck baby i’m close, you want me to fill this pretty pussy with my cum? Want a little reminder that even if you’re with him, you’ll always be mine?” you could only nod, small whimpers filling the room.

A few more lazy thrusts before he pushed all the way into you and stayed there, feeling his cock twitch while he filled you with his cum. Your pussy clenching around him while you came at the same time, head thrown back and lips parted moaning his name, a white ring forming on his cock from your cum mixing with his. He pulled out after a few seconds and pulled you to your knees before sliding his cock in your mouth.

“Suck it off baby, just clean it up for me” and you did, licking every drop of your cum off his cock before he pulled out and got dressed.

You went to grab something to wipe the cum away when he stopped you.

“Nah, you go on your little date with my cum leaking out of you”

You gave him a dazed look before nodding and throwing your dress back on followed by your shoes, giving him a kiss and heading for the door.

“That was fun Rafe, i’ll call you later okay?”

“I know you will pretty girl, I look forward to it.” the smile on his face was genuine, not one that he had after a meaningless hookup, but one of true happiness. You brought out the best in him and he couldn’t even have you in any way other than this.

“Me too, I better go now. See ya” you were almost out the front door when you heard him yell your name. You turned around to see him leaning in the doorframe of his bedroom, waiting to see what he had to say.

“You’re my favorite secret”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #obx imagine #rafe cameron smut #topper thornton imagine #rafe smut #rafe cameron blurb #rafe imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe outer banks #topper thornton #topper thornton x reader #outer banks imagine #outer banks smut #outer banks fic

455 notes · View notes

miioouu · 4 months

Note

that coquette trend with the pink ribbons but tying it (not tight) around one of the cod guys cock, like around the base while hes all pink and leaky and hard and taking a pick. ugh im drooling

GIIIIIIRL THE GASP I GUSPED WHILE READING THIS OMG IM DROOLING TOO!!!!! Some bitches get morning texts from their partners, some from their friends, but me?! This is my good morning texts and that's all i need in life!! Thank you for your amazing brain! Tw:smut, female reader

Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish:

His darted between yours and your fingers. He smiled as you pawed at his thigh, knowing that soon they’ll be around his cock. “Come on, you’ve got me impatient bonnie”, he’d complain as he always does. But this time, you’re ready to switch roles. It’s you who’s usually a mess underneath him; a whimpering, crying mess. What if it’s finally his time to be teased mercilessly?

“You’re always impatient, Johnny.” you retort as you sit up slightly, shifting as you feel your knees giving up from pressing against the floor for too long. “Close your eyes, I’ll be right back.” You bat your eyelashes at him, he won’t resist it, he won’t resist a surprise in the first place either way. Although he scoffed, it’s not Johnny if he’s not bratty anyway, he did what you asked him for, laying back against the couch, his thighs parting a little more, and there’s a stupid smirk on his face when he closes his eyes “As you wish, kitty.”

So pretty, standing in all its glory, his cock adorned by a pinkish blush, almost twitching in anticipation. He shivers when he feels the lightest brush of your fingers against his sensitive skin, followed by something so foreign “What’s that, kitty?” he shuffles in his seat, not knowing if he should trust you or open his eyes. “Keep them closed Johnny, just for a second…go ahead, you can open them”. Quickly, his eyes were on you, kneeling so prettily between his thighs, eyes soft and round and your lips are twitching, trying to stifle a laugh, that’s when he looked at his own dick, still covered with your hands that slowly peel away to reveal a thin, pale pink ribbon tied loosely around the middle of his dick. It’s ridiculous, really. He looks pathetic, ‘unmanly’, and yet, despite the rolling of his eyes, he still reached down to jerk at his length. His eyebrows raise slightly at the way the ribbon would move with every up and down of his palm, something about is so fascinating, even for you as you swat his hand to replace it with yours. Something about it, so delicate and soft, made him slip into that mindset, he’s whimpering. Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish is whimpering and trembling as his pretty kitty is giving him a handjob! He’s breathless, hissing when you slow down your pace, only for it to turn into a moan when you pick up the tempo again. It wasn’t long before the once pink ribbon became a wet, white mess.

John Price:

There’s an evident smirk on his face as he watches you getting prepared for your night out with your girls. His eyes never leave your nimble fingers as they tie a girly pink ribbon at the end of your braids. “That’s cute, darling. You look so delectable with those bows.” You only laughed, shaking your head at him, too used to his antics when you spend a night away from him; anything to keep you home.

But this time, it wasn’t him who kept you back, but rather the dirty thoughts that kept running through your mind as you applied your makeup. You take a deep breath before marching towards him, thanking whatever god above that John always slept in the nude in the comfort of his own house, all you had to do was to peel the covers to see his already erect cock.

He has the audacity to laugh, as if he already saw it coming, it makes you huff, wrapping the ribbon a little tighter than what you originally intended. “Simmer down, darling. Loosen up, and loosen that silky thing too…” Jerk!

You do end up loosening it up slightly, tying a perfect bow around his base, the strings tickling at his balls, enhancing the feeling of it all. His eyes flutter when he feels your tongue circling around his tip, you hum at the taste of his pre. For some reason he’s already panting. He’s already got his fingers laced in your styled hair, pushing you further and further down his dick, until your lips reach the pink circle of silk, gagging and drooling around him. You’re late to your dinner, you always are, but it’s alright. It’s more than alright when he sends you a picture in the middle of your hangout. The image itself makes you rub your thighs together under the table, the sight of his huge cock still decorated with the pink bow, the sight of the ribbon translucent in some places, the drops of his cum pooling around his balls, the text followed after “Come unwrap your gift, my darling” all got way too impatient to get back home to him.

#john price x reader #john price smut #john price #soap x reader #soap smut #soap #captain price x reader #captain price smut #captain john price #johnny mctavish x reader #johnny mactavish smut #johnny soap mactavish #cod smut #cod x reader #call of duty #female reader #smut

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star-girl69 · 4 months

Text

Love Song

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

a/n: just needed to do some general hc’s to get all my thoughts in order i hope you all enjoy!!

Love song - Lana Del Rey

warnings: the formatting is weird idk why i can’t fix it but y’all will live, swearing, a little itty bitty bit of violence, every facet of clarisse finding its way here and i love them all, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

i’m sure we all agree on this

but clarisse is very protective of you

even if you’re a very capable fighter, even if you’re even better than her, clarisse is still so protective of you

i mentioned this in one of my fics (maybe so it goes…????) but like the reason behind this is the fact that clarisse is just SCARED

she is terrified of losing you bc you are the only one she feels like she can be herself with

like clarisse is insane!!!!! in a good way!!!!! but also she’s a 17 year old girl…. she wants TO BE LOVED

she tries to talk to you about how she feels about her dad and about everything else in her life, but even though she doesn’t want to be, she’s locked up like a vault

she knows her emotions are always super intense and she has big reactions

major anger issues but they’ve gotten better with age

the problem is she spent her entire life being told that she needed to calm down, that she couldn’t feel like that all the time, and she just tried to shut down

obviously that did not work

but it still makes it virtually impossible to talk about her feelings

when it comes to you tho she’s an open book

she’s a daughter of ares she’s headstrong she’s proud and her fatal flaw is PRIDE

i mentioned this before but she wants everyone to know that you’re hers and she’s yours

your relationship is partly very public

she’s not afraid to touch you or kiss you

she’s not afraid to show you off and (needs to) show everyone that yes your beautiful self belongs to HER

so naturally she gets very jealous

even when you’re like clarisse you are INSANE

there’s been a few times when you first started dating and you were still getting comfortable and weren’t that public yet so like someone would flirt with you

it went like this

boy: hey what’s up you’re kinda fine

y/n: oh! oh yeah no….. no…..

clarisse: WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY IM GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU—

then she started attacking him

lost dessert privileges for a month, she proudly declared that it was worth it (besides you would sneak her bites of yours like)

now that everyone knows you’re hers her jealousy is rooted a lot more in delusion and insecurity

you’ll be like in a group talking someone and she’ll pull you closer and be like “i think that guys staring at you a little too much.”

“clarisse no the fuck he’s not what”

b/c of the fact that she isn’t a son for her father she gets insanely jealous if specifically a MAN gets even an inch too close however innocently

she doesn’t want to think it but she thinks you’ll eventually realize her father is right and she’s not as useful or good bc she’s a girl

most of the time when she gets jealous bc of her insecurities she just becomes extra clingy

but also any emotion she feels she gets extra clingy to you so sometimes it’s hard to tell LMAO

she isn’t really a big hand holder but that’s only because she’s actually holding you CLOSER to her by your waist

also one more note about your relationship publically

everyone gets whiplash bc like she’s a BULLY fo everyone else and then you walk over and she’s all heart eyes

i hate everyone but you trope save me

save me i hate everyone but you trope

THIS HAPPENED IN IN A GOOD WAY

clarisse: pushes percy over

you: nuh uh clarissseeeeeeee

clarisse: omg hi beautiful gf

you: touches her shoulder, looks at her disapprovingly

clarisse: fine i’ll go, *scares percy*, bye bye beautiful ily

like she’s just being a bitch and then all of a sudden you come around and she’s like hiiiiiii babyyyyy how is my gorgeous gorgeous girl today??

so outwardly clarisse is just very proud and touchy

privately she lets herself be a little more chill

this is where she really touchy you thought before was worse nah

idk if y’all have noticed but in my fics clar’s always holding on y/n’s hips and that’s just me self projecting bc i have the most horrid hip dips but my point still stands

SHE LOVES YOUR HIPS

would totally call them “love handles” IM SORRYY

but she just likes having a place to hold where she can just like kinda actually physically grab you with her hands

like yeah she can wrap her arms around your waist but she likes to GRAB you

cuddling w her is fun bc like this girl cannot get ENOUGH of you there’s only like three ways you cuddle

you on top of her whether just like completely on top of her (one of her favs) or just with your head on her chest

this is what happens whenever you feel scared

like there was a monster attack just near the barrier and you’ve all been feeling uneasy all day

TRUST you are sleeping in her bed tonight

wraps her arms around you so tight it’s like she’s crushing you

also she’s running your back or caressing your head whichever you prefer

she keeps her spear right next to her bed and makes sure you can see it so you know however subconsciously NOTHING can hurt you bc she’s right there (nothings gonna hurt you baby vibes)

or she’s on top of you this one usually happens when she’s feeling a little extra insecure and jealous and it’s like no one can see you if she’s on top of her so then you’re hers

she isn’t the smartest one in the bunch but she has good intentions!!!!

also she lays on top of you if you get hurt

like after so it goes for example when y/n got that little cut on her hand

you’re like “clar pls you’re crushing me”

“um ok you scared the shit out of me today tho you need to LET ME do this fuck”

third option

you’re both laying on your side and facing each other legs tangled together and she’s probably whispering to you

she’s a big whisperer i feel it in my heart

like tracing her hands on your face and saying your so beautiful or telling you how you make her feel

oh lord take me now

also she loves you the way hozier loves

“someone asked me in the end i’d tell them ‘put me back in it’ // darlin’ i would do it again // if i could hold for a minute”

“when my time comes around lay me gently in the cold dark earth no grave could hold my body down i’d crawl back to her”

like she BREATHES for you

if she died and then you were like “i miss you” trust she would find a way to come back to life

totally daydreams about going on such a fantastical quest that the gods offer both of you immortality so you can be together forever and ever and ever and ever and ever

like if the world ends y’all would still be there having a little picnic date

devotion is the only word that comes close

anyways

ok nicknames she calls you:

baby, angel, gorgeous, pretty thing/girl, beautiful, lovely, dummy (lovingly)

(recently saw a few posts abt clarisse saying mama/mamas i may be swayed)

dates she takes you on:

forces you to train w her even if you don’t like it but she lets you win OBVIIIII, under the stars in the woods, take your dinners to go and sneak back to either hers or your cabin to eat together, secret makeout sessions in the bathroom her cabin your cabin anywhere she can get her hands on you

this is so random but i get horrible migraines and i am ADDICTED to these like headache relief frequency sounds on youtube i swear they work and i was like omg you can’t have electronics at chb I WOULD NOT SURVIVE

so if you are a real one like me and get horrible migraines but this goes for being sick in general she’s like a little puppy pretending to be a wolf barely holding it together

she’ll be like at the foot of your bed begging you not to go into the light while shouting at someone at the same time to refill your water

you like have a cold

she would rub your temples if you had a headache and she would literally be like a doll for you to move around like oh you wanna lay on her chest? by all means

you wanna lay upside down with your feet in her face? as long as you get better you can do whatever you want!

you don’t wanna touch her at all? that’s where she draws the line

you’ll be like “ugh i’m hot get away from me”

“okay ☹️☹️”

“why are you touching my feet with your feet”

she places you above everyone else

like yeah other people are ok…….

but you 😍😍😍😍😍😍

this is slightly cringe but she would fr burn the whole world down and not let a flame touch you

LIKE HAVE YALL SEEN THE ANONS IVE BEEN POSTING AND THE CAPTURE THE FLAG THINGS 😱😱😱😱 (y’all always check my blog im always posting the funniest shit bc i’m funny)

“you’re one opposite teams blah blah blah you get hurt clarisse drops EVERYTHING to help you even if just a paper cut” (i have no chill fic coming soon)

THEN THEN the other one that was like “ok but what if you ACTUALLY get hurt like broken leg”

clarisse just goes crazy when you’re hurt

in so it goes: “what if that cut gets infected?”

you’re her WORLD she literally can’t stand the thought or something happening to you or else she starts literally shaking in anger and sadness

but when clarisse gets hurt it’s a whole other story

LIKE FUCK YOU JUST WANNA CARE ABOUT HER AND SHES ALL LIKE “it’s chill.”

NO ITS NOT YOURE GONNA BLEED OUT 😭😭

clarisse never let’s anyone but you see her true emotions

like yeah when you’re in public and you’re being cutesy she starts smiling and everyone is SO confused

but still

she never lets anyone see her as WEAK

so she always downplays her injuries in terms of how much they hurt, but flaunts them off proudly at the same time?? yeah that makes sense

after a capture the flag game you march her to the bathroom with a first aid kit “ok baby take off your shirt”

she always makes some flirty comment like SHUSH NOT RN

then she has all these bruises and every once in a while a cut from someone’s sword

you’re like 😔😔💔

you’re the only one she will let clean her up

unless she like breaks a bone or needs stitches (which has never happened) no way in hell she’s going to the healers

if you’re a child of apollo or smth she’s like “i literally have my own person healer right here…..”

anyways i think that’s all but i will probably be updating this when i think of more stuff bc as we know i have no chill

thank you all sm for reading and reblogging and liking and commenting and sending all of your WONDERFUL asks they make me so happy i’m always giggling when i get one

anyways bye bye 😘

—

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

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tinkerbelle05 · 9 months

Note

How about a 1016 miles x fem reader where his mom catches them kissing in his room 😭😭 I feel Rio would not play

Caught Red Handed

Characters: 1610!Miles Morales x Black!Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff & slight Angst

Summary: (Requested) Thanks beautiful ♥️

Warnings: awkwardness, snooping parents, Rio’s rage

A/N: Omg Rio would never play like that. I think it took a lot of convincing for you and Miles to be in the same room. Welp that's gone now. Also for my own peace of mind, Miles and Reader is 16+

You loved kissing Miles. You loved leaving a trail of kisses on his jaw, traveling down to his neck, and traveling further down into the depths of his collarbone.

You were doing it right now. Both of you laying on his bed with you draped over his body and his hands on your thighs for stability. You heard a chuckle under his breath and you paused to look at him.

“That made you tickle,” it was more of a statement, an observation really, than a question. He didn’t answer, just avoided your eyes. You took your finger and lightly trailed leaving goosebumps in it’a wakes, leaving him a laughing mess.

“You're such a tease,” he grumbles and kisses your lips.

The both of you were so entrapped in your own world that you didn’t hear Miles’ door opening, and you most definitely didn’t notice Rio standing at the doorway with lunch in her hands.

“What are you two doing?!” You hear a yell. It sounded too much like Ms. Morales for your liking.

Both of you froze with fear and slowly turned around to see a fuming Ms. Morales. She was gripping the tray for dear life and fierce glare on her face.

You practically jump off Miles, white hot embarrassment fills every part of your body. You avoid her line of sight as you brace yourself for the inevitable verbal lashing. You don’t even dare to look at Miles, not even a secret glance in his general direction.

“So this is why y’all wanna keep the door closed all the time huh?” She questions and laughs in a mocking tone.

“Mom-“

“Don’t,” she cuts him off harshly. She closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. She opens them and they land in the space between you and Miles. “Have you two..?”

“No, we haven't,” Miles answers quickly, and somehow your embarrassment grew deeper.

She gives out a sigh and pinches her nose, “Okay, okay that's good because I will not become a grandmother right now, do you both understand?”

Both of you nod in unison. There was something more terrifying about her calm rage. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up in anxiety.

She clears her throat, “Since neither of you clearly paid enough attention during sex-ed in school, I will re-teach you.”

“Huh? Mami please no. You really don’t have to,” Miles protested while you sink further into despair.

She ignores Miles and grabs a chair to sit in, “Okay so when..”

This was going to be a long night but it could definitely have been worse.

“Oh and you both are severely grounded for at least a month,” she adds before she continues on.

It was one of the worst 30 minutes of your life. Ms. Morales went really in depth on every subject related to sex education. The diseases you could catch, different methods of practicing safe sex, and the consequences of failing to do so. She painted horrifyingly graphic demonstrations too.

By the end of it, all you wanted to do was go home and erase this idea from your memory forever.

And at the end, she said, “Now maybe a month from now, after some reflection I can trust you two to be in the same room with the door open. But not right now. Do you need a ride home?” She turned to you, her gaze and voice softer than it was a moment ago

You quickly shake your head no and grab your things. As much as a car ride home would beat the 2 trains and a bus commute you had, your already cringing at the thought of how awkward and tense the car ride would be.

“No, no it’s fine Ms. Morales, I can get home on my own,” you tell her and with a quick goodbye to both of them, you were out the door.

Halfway through your train ride home and the Renaissance album you get a text from Miles. You were surprised he still has his phone.

“I’m sooo sorry for that. Shoulda locked the door next time. I'll make it up to you, promise 🙏🏿”

“I'll hold it to you Morales”

Tags: @butterfi, @justbeethings, @jam-skullz, @zomb1te, @dreamxcollide, @shibble, @sciamachy-after-dusk @sleepdeprivationis4coolkids, @somber-starz, @maypersonne, @peter-parkers-gf, @hoeboat101, @rosebunny, @liural, @midnight-the-shadow-wolf, @mur-docs, @eight-cats-in-a-box@emgavi, @sawi-06, @707xn, @niktwazny303, @nagi3seastorm, @ghostsimp000, @cloudstrifefantatic, @vixqn, @mewxzx, @yourtsahik, @targaryenstormborn, @spider-bren, @star-light18464, @im-jisoo-im-okay, @wraithlueintheirlittleworld, @andhdi68a, @itstooearly-its3am, @universallypeanutpizzapersona, @gricelovesu, @pavitrsgf, @avatarl0v3r, @ca1ist0, @randomhoex, @nerdyparker616, @1uvvmi, @keawio, @centipider, @ellatienesuscosas, @m4rihrts, @jell0buss-37, @baddiebehaviourxx, @laylasbunbunny, @minimari415

Taglist & Anonlist & Reqs Info & Masterlist

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 10 months

Note

Hiya! I’m so happy your requests are open omg your writing is impeccable. So I’ve been with this concept in my head for so long since I read this prompt somewhere: what is with your weird fascination with me?

And just immediately my head started creating a story about reader having the nickname ‘Death’ because she has the highest body count known, skilled as no other and, also, imposible to know on a deeper level because she is like a wall, not letting anyone in. Until John Price needs her for a mission and is, as the prompt says, fascinated by her (and feeling other things he doesn’t want to admit), and is able to break her a little when he gets hurt in a mission after months of working together.

Glory to the Reaper

PAIRING: John Price x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: He was strange, you admitted to yourself. Always around even when you didn't want him to be. But perhaps the Brit just might surprise you.

WORDCOUNT: 5.8k

WARNINGS: Angst, blood, death, gore, canon typical violence, avoidance tactics, fluff, pining, hurt/comfort, etc.

A/N: I switched around the codename but it's still the same plot! Enjoy, Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Your eyes slip over the file on the table, slowly caressing the parchment with easy and careful consideration of every word and comma—searching. Focusing. You hum under your breath and slide the page away to spy on the one behind it, the room quiet and the air cold. Outside the window the entire compound is asleep, only the light of the street lamps illuminating the land; inside this office, your feet barely shuffle over the tuft of the rug.

Clicking your tongue, you go to the next document in the pile.

The still-warm body flinches and jerks below you, but you barely notice—he hadn’t put up much of a fight; wasn’t memorable. Sighing and itching over the mask along the bottom of your face, you snatch the last six papers from the desk and fold them four times, stuffing them into your vest pocket.

Stalking with sure steps, you press into the radio on your gear as you step over the body and head to the door. Bloody bootprints follow behind you like a crimson shadow of surefire death.

“Actual, intel secured. Heading to Evac now.” Laswell was listening intently on the other end, your Op of the highest priority.

You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t, surely. The small click from the other end greets you as you shove open the office’s door and saunter down the hallway paved with glints of marble and pools of viscera like a Roman horror story. Eyes numbly slide past the scores of bodies; necks slit and stomachs burst from bullets fired through silencers.

“Good job, Tomb,” Laswell utters, voice fast and serious as always. “What’s the clean-up status?”

Your lips flinch upward, “I suggest fire and a prayer, Actual. But no one knows I’m here. Main house is neutralized.”

A small pause later and a huff of dull amusement.

“Copy, Tomb. Your ride is waiting—best not to miss it, we need you back sooner than later.” The structure of your lungs rearranges in a small chuckle that echoes off the ceiling; molten silver from the moon slips over your darkened form. The patch upon your right shoulder is illuminated in steady intervals, the familiar image of a mausoleum and a guarding Sphinx.

Alone, that patch is, with no other dark affiliations beyond that demonic cause. Many see it right before they meet their end, but the insignia was entirely left to ruin—no one sees it and lives besides other soldiers.

“Copy.” Your voice is easy and bland as the curtains from the single open window shake in the breeze. “Tell the boys I’m on my way.” You pass the window and slap a gloved hand to it, hearing the squeak of the frame as it hits back down before you turn the corner, slinking away to reform into a figure that evokes grim glances and sliced sentences.

—

You stare into blue eyes with a sheen of disinterest coating your own, hands stuffed into your pockets and gear heavy on your chest. From your shoulder, the strap of your rifle sits as you speak, tilting your head, “Captain Jonathan Price of Task Force 141.”

The man was tall, you admit, fit and formed to harsh military life. Undoublity he’d been in the service for decades. You’d seen his face before—the brunette beard and the strong jaw; small eyes with wrinkles, it’s how you had ID’d him. Plus the bucket hat. Laswell had told you he’d been inquiring about your file and you’d done your own digging off the books.

John grunts a greeting before nodding.

“Pleasure. Tomb, was it?” On the tarmac, you glance around with stiff shoulders as the blades of the helicopter slow down behind you. Morning was just on the horizon, and you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep on the flight back.

Lips thin, before your vision slides back into place. John’s hands are crossed casually, but his blue holds glints of intrigue. You don’t like that. “...The one and only. Excuse me.”

Walking past, you move like a crane, legs taking long, steady, strides. A hand comes up to scratch at your cheek through your face covering. Laswell was expecting you immediately.

And those feet at your side were not supposed to be there. Your eyes shimmer lowly at the shadow of John as he follows.

“Should tell you that Laswell’s in building two, then.” Pace halting, the Captain continues off on his own as your sharp gaze burns into his neck. He spares a glance over his expansive shoulder before adjusting his course to the East. “Told me to bring you to her. We need to have a little chat, yeah?”

You stay silent, watching John travel to the larger building where Laswell was apparently now waiting for you. After a still minute where you listen to the birds waking up and the scent of dew is in your hidden nostrils, you sigh deeply and roll your shoulders before beginning to walk behind.

“Hm,” Garbled grunts are only heard by you as you stay well enough back from the man. Cautious as you stare at his head.

He holds the door open for you when you finally make it, and you stand blankly from the opening as John’s calloused hand clenches over the door. When you don’t enter, the Captain shakes his head and releases a deep chuckle.

“Alright, then,” he mutters, shuffling through the door first. You follow the strain of his back until you look away and reach for the barrier, pushing it back from you. Making your way inside, you sigh and wonder what you’re getting into.

“Laswell said you don’t like strangers,” eyes peek back at you as the buzzing from the overhead lights echoes in your ears. Your throat releases a hum; shoulders showing a picture of wound ease. “Can’t say she’s wrong, now can you?”

Watching another soldier pass the two of you, you tilt your head to make sure the stranger’s footsteps turn the corner before you answer John’s question with a raised brow to mirror his own.

“Did she also tell you that I don’t plan on joining One-Four-One, Captain?” His bearded smirk catches you slightly off-guard, perplexed by not even the hint of shock in his gaze. He’d done his research.

John grunts as his eyelids narrow, amused. Your muscles tense.

“Affirmative.” The meeting room door is opened and this time he allows you to ease your paranoia by slinking in first.

In the room sits an occupied Laswell, a long table, a projector, and black-out windows. Confused but used to last-minute changes, you simply enter silently and pick a chair with your back to the wall and a good view of the room.

“Laswell,” you utter in greeting as the woman hums a hello, shifting through numerous files. In your breast pocket, you pull out the files you’d stolen and toss them onto the wood. John stands near the entrance with crossed arms, hips shifting every so often as his feet re-situate themselves.

He blinks down at the papers and then back to you with a careful glance at Kate.

Your Station Chief chuckles when she looks at you, tilting her head before she snatches the prize.

“Good work as always, Tomb.”

“Why is he here?” You get to the point, one hand going up to brush over your hair as the other sits limply on the seat’s arm. Your gear sits heavy on you, but that brutal tic of curiosity blooms.

John’s lips twitch before he answers, “An offer. Knew I wouldn’t be able to meet if Laswell wasn’t the mediator, eh? You’re bloody difficult to track down.”

“Offer?” Small talk never mattered to you, hadn’t since you’d signed up, and probably never would. You didn’t understand why people beat around the bush—just say what you need to say and get it over with. There was only so much time in a day.

It seemed John Price carried part of that opinion as well.

Blunt, you admit to your opinion of the man, and sure of his strengths.

“I need your skill set.” Kate looks back and forth between you two before she focuses on her work, multitasking. John continues, pointing a hand at you in demonstration from their hold on his chest. “Mission in three days. Turkey…” He watches you closely as if gauging your abilities. “You in or out?”

You wait in a dim silence for a minute or two before you tilt your body to Laswell, eyes still stuck in stormy blue and pale wrinkles inlaid with dirt.

“Kate?”

“Totally off the books,” the woman says confidently, pen sliding over paper. “Two targets in Bursa. There’s a file in your office.” Raising a brow, John hides his cheeky smile behind a bored mask.

“Take your Lieutenant,” you glare, “Ghost, was it?”

Price shakes his head, hat flinching along with it. “On assignment. I’ll need an answer today, Tomb. Time’s ticking.”

Your jaw clenches in annoyance, “Capture or kill?”

John shrugs nonchalantly, “Either. Is this a yes or a no?”

In this game of cat and mouse, you find yourself slipping. Your obligations as a soldier call to you to take the mission immediately, but for the simple fact that this Captain was unknown to you—and apparently, you weren’t unknown to him.

John was checking all of the boxes of people you didn’t like to be around.

Your voice grits out, eyes burning in their glare, “...When?”

His smirk makes you want to storm out.

“Tomorrow. 1300.” The air in the room is thick, tense like a thick layer of molasses was overtop everything. Under the table, your foot taps to the steady beat of your heart, your face tensed, and the layers of your facemask suddenly too formed to your neck and chin.

Twitching your nose you dig your eyes into John, peeling down his expansive shoulders and chest to take in the layers of packs and other miscellaneous items. His thigh holders and the way they hug his legs. You end with one last dead-on look into his eyes, trying to pinpoint intentions and flay the lines of his brain.

Most people glance away, but John returns the look with a casual tilt of his head and a raised brow. Not at all off-put.

Your hand steadily clenches over the chair.

All you give him is a firm nod—nothing more than a mere jerk of your chin. Kate sighs from where she’d been watching.

“Perfect. John,” she points her pen at the Captain as you both stare off. John grunts before his eyes flicker to the side, leisurely roving back moments later. You blink and rub your forehead. “You have your answer. Now would the both of you get the fuck out of here?”

“Copy, Kate.” John sighs, and you huff; standing as you plan out the amount of time you have to clean up and sleep before you have to leave. With an easy brush of your shoulders, your form shimmies past the Captain with dull enthusiasm.

You weren’t happy about this, but fine. You’ve been through worse.

As you shuffle down the hallway to the armory, your ears quirk when the footsteps ring in the drums of your ears like a hiking beacon. Already you’d memorized the walking pattern.

The thump-bump, bump-thump, of boots and the clink-clank of metal on metal. Shoving down a growl you hiss out into the air, not turning around.

“Problem, Price?” A gruff humph bounces.

“Negative, Tomb.” His shadow comes to conjoin with yours, large body standing side-by-side. Eyes flash to the side of your face, hidden from all by the cloth—like a bored cat, you continue to pave your way to silence; hoping whatever thought this man had in his head would disappear. “Just curious, see.”

“Curious?” your brow raises, the make of your muscles showing your unease. “Can’t help you with that.”

“No, probably not, eh?” John grunts and reiterates as strange emotion spikes in the lines of his face as he glances along you. “Tomorrow. 1300. Don’t be late.” With nothing more, he halts and pivots, peeling back to leave your side as his sudden absence leaves you devoid of heat.

Confusion breeds in your chest, but your steady legs carry you on until your tension leaves. Under your breath you utter a question as you enter the armory, shuffling your rifle off of your chest. “What the hell was that about?”

—

Price and you stand inside the safehouse with fast hearts and narrowed eyes. Blood was dripping down your hands, the black gloves flooded with gore that sure as hell doesn’t belong to you.

“Fuck,” John growls, guttural reverberations echoing off the walls. With stiff ribs, you go and lightly peel back the fabric of the nearest window to study the street below; looking for any suspicious figures. Frowning, you see nothing and let the curtain fall, eyes wafting to the Captain.

“We either lost them or they have surveillance on the building. Best for you to not leave either way.” The mission had gone sideways—apparently one of the targets had an ID on John as a member of One-Four-One. One thing led to another and resulted in you sticking a knife into some man’s gut to get away when he’d been spotted. You blink at his agitated expression, the black beanie on his head ruffled as he runs a hand over it.

But you don’t say anything else. Peeling off your gloves, you listen to him as a rain of blood splatters the carpet.

“This sets us back—since when does bloody fuckin’ Metin Baydar know who I am?” John’s hands are clenched, jaw so tight you wonder if his molars will crack under the pressure. A smirk twitches your lips at the thought. “Tomb,” you slowly tilt your eyes to him. The man sets his lips and crosses his arms, the brown casual wear in his chest bunching. “I’ll need you to be my eyes on this, yeah? If I leave this position I jeopardize your safety.”

“My safety?” you huff a laugh and push your gloves into your loose pants. “Captain, I don’t need you to worry about my safety.”

He seems to pause for a moment, and with a shake of his head his blue eyes shutter closed. A deep, tight, breath is taken and those tiny lids are forced back as you lock gazes. You send a blank look his way and he nods firmly.

“Keep low.” Is all he grunts, feet standing apart and his stare intense. “Copy?”

A swirl of amusement dances in your gut—you tap the earpiece in your shell with a stained streak of blood on your fingers. John stares, unreadable.

“I’ll leave when the streets cool. Just keep on the line so I can relay my intel, Price.” After a moment of silence, your eyes tighten with intrigue. “How do you wonder Baydar knew your face?” Standing by the window again, you peek out and keep John in view. His form shuffles, and he scoffs before walking beside you. Over your shoulder, he also views the buildings and businesses below. You still at the sensation of his breath on the back of your head, hand twitching over the curtain. It ruffles your hair for a moment before you snap out of it, eyes blinking rapidly. “Your Task Force isn’t exactly known,” you finish your sentence, voice strained.

Clearing his throat, as if realizing how close he’d gotten with only the intention of gazing outside, the man’s form jerks back; taking a step or two away to give you distance. Your far-gone eyes blankly continue to look outside but your chest gains some tension to it. You don’t know why.

This Brit is strange. You frown, watching a cat traverse the concrete far below. Not that I really have much to go off of.

“Haven’t a clue.” John sighs again, one hand going to itch at his chin. “Your guess is as good as mine. One thing I do know is that we have to fix this. Now.”

“You should tell Laswell,” you mutter, turning around and walking past him to stand around your packs—all of which hold your gear. Your knife was set into a small sheath inside your shirt, leather wrapped around your waist as you stopped near the coffee table. You pull the lip of your clothes up and grasp at it before peeling the metal out with an inquisitive eye.

If there was any breakage to the tip, you’d be furious.

John watches from across the room, catching glances at your bare skin riddled with scars and burns; unmarred flesh foreign. He feels his breath hitch before you drop your shirt back down and bring the blade into the light.

Holding it parallel, you gaze along the edge and tilt your head, eyelids half-closed.

“Kate?” Price answers you, clearing his throat. “No, it’s better not to create any more shite. She’ll be good off not knowing, yeah?” The brunette’s brow raises in question.

You hum and don’t reply.

The rest of the mission was spent with the two of you conversing over the open line of your comms as you scoured the streets for any sign of the target, feet carrying you over the city as the chill of the late afternoon set in. Presently, you didn’t know how to feel about your situation. Working with others was a strain on your focus—on the walls you’ve built up; John had obviously noticed that you didn’t exactly play well with others. It was plainly stated in your file, after all.

“—attitude, or lack thereof, is a detriment to the structure of any team/unit/platoon that she is placed into under all circumstances. Recommended reserved operations to limit drawbacks.”

Having a pleasant attitude wasn’t your job.

Stalking around the corner, your ears twitch to John’s voice. “Sitrep, Tomb. What’s it looking like out there?”

It was strange, then, that the man over the line was so eager to speak to you. Your sigh hits on deaf ears, and you respond as you carefully walk past civilians making their way home.

“Quiet. No sign.” The silence re-settles and you gradually loosen again. Like a cat, your ears twitch to hear the muttering from the commuters; eyes sliding with watery film across faces.

Baydar owns a restaurant as a front for funding terrorists. Anyone exiting from this direction could be part of it—

“You said you’d never join One-Four-One,” John’s voice makes you shove down a flinch, ripped out of your focus. In your pockets, your hands close into fists, and a deeply annoyed mask fits itself over your expression. “Why’s that, then?”

“What is this?” Your voice goes cold, “interrogation time?”

“With a record like yours, you’d get pick of any Task Force or SOF in country.” The Captain seems to ignore your hiss and jab as his deep voice continues; accent low. You hear the drag of a cigar and the puff of smoke. Internally, you’re thankful for the casual yet attentive acknowledgment of your skills—how the man doesn’t seem in the slightest worried about you. “Why is it that you’re always alone out ‘ere? Couldn’t wrap my head ‘round it, truthfully.” A tobacco-slick chuckle, “Bloody hell, people would kill to get you on a mission like I did, eh? No doubt.”

For a long time, you don’t answer, leaning against the wall across from your target’s restaurant doing recon. Frown tight and face stiff. John’s voice fizzles.

“Ah, fuckin’ forget it Love, just a man’s curiosity speaking for ‘im. I’ll leave you to focus.” Before the line can click, you open your lips—as if the things have a mind of their own.

“People are unpredictable.” The Captain’s breath is gently puffing over the line. He listens and you know he hangs on every word; it was a strange feeling to know that. From under you, your feet shuffle. “They do things that don’t make sense. I don’t like dealing with it.”

A grunt. “Well, can get behind that…” John had a smirk on his lips, you can hear it. “You’d lose your head if you met MacTavish.”

Your focus waning, you blink, getting sucked into this strange interaction with an even stranger man.

“Yeah?” You wonder, head tilting to the side. “One of yours?”

“Hm,” he affirms and the chill of the night caresses your skin. John chuckles. “Sergeant. Bloody good shot, but can get into trouble faster than his fucking gun can fire.”

Your mouth quirks. “Sounds horrible.”

“Makes my job a living hell,” John admits and you shock yourself by listening. “But no one better to keep by my six…You’d ease up to him.”

“I’m not joining, Price,” Your voice mutters out like how a dragonfly snaps its translucent wings on still air. “This is it.”

In the safehouse, John hums under his breath, staring out the window at the blinking lights of the city as you watch the restaurant with far-off thoughts. A smile twitches his lips. For some reason there was something about you he wanted to figure out—something to unravel. You were like Ghost sometimes, but more… fascinating. Darker.

And you knew how to get the job done better than anyone.

John wanted you on his Task Force, your expertise, and the only way to get that was to take you apart like a puzzle of razor blades. Study you. Learn you as the edges cut up his flesh. The Captain had no idea what picture you’d make when everything was in its proper place, but he’d be willing to try with the very tenacity that had gotten him this far.

But there was something else there, too. Some kind of tightness in his chest when you looked at him; he'd gotten it when he’d seen you on the tarmac back not so long ago like some schoolboy. Those blank eyes of yours…why did he want them to light up?

Why did he want to see your laugh?

John wasn’t immature enough to not know his own feelings or attractions, but this was an entire section of its own. Blinking, the man grunts to himself and smirks. “Well, better make it last, then.”

You feel your eyelids carefully pull in surprise.

“I…” Your voice starts but dies off, swallowing saliva down as your mouth clacks shut with a connection of teeth. Closing your eyes, you steady your heart, which had suddenly created a concerning skip in its beats.

John places the cigar back to his lips and takes a long drag, leaning out of the window to watch the smoke disappear into the twinkling lights. Lips peeling his beard hairs back.

—

As it turned out, the mission in Turkey wasn’t the only time you’d have to deal with John Price, and it certainly wasn’t the last time you’d see his face in front of yours. One mission turned into two—two into three and so on. You hadn’t exactly wanted it, but you found you couldn’t turn him down either.

At whichever base you were stationed at, all of a sudden he’d just show up; standing on the tarmac with his arms crossed and that casual set to his shoulders. The first time you’d seen him after Turkey, you had half convinced yourself he was a mirage. And then he’d smirk at you and tilt his head and you’d have no control over your words.

It was pathetic…disgusting…it was…it was…

You shake yourself back to the present when a bullet whizzes past your head, a sharp call from across the utter warzone you’d found yourself in the middle of.

“Tomb, what in the hell’s wrong with you?!” John’s voice is harsh, and you lock onto it. “Get your gun up!”

You sigh, unperturbed. Peaking past the large crate you use as cover, your eyes glare at the enemy soldiers across the dock, fixing your finger’s position over your M4A1. The small unit you’d been dragged into by John was mostly dead—only four of you remaining from the ten.

It wasn’t supposed to go down like this.

Jerking back, a splintering of wood explodes in front of you as the next fast piece of metal nearly takes your nose off. With a grit of your teeth, you flick your safety off and swivel your shoulders.

Popping from the top of the crate, your sharp eyes lock onto the first visible body before you press your finger to the trigger with practiced ease as the word shrieks all around you. Recoil is eaten into the padded kevlar of the junction of your shoulder and arm.

When you dart back, the body has yet to hit the ground.

“There she is!” John calls, and you look forward with a steady stare as the brunette laughs from behind his own crate a few feet away. “Keep your head in the game, Tomb.”

You frown, normal facemask back over your chin hiding it. While you loathe to admit it, John had grown on you in these…what was it…? Months? Yes, that seemed about right.

Months of joint missions. You could hardly believe that he’d dragged you out like this.

“Tell the others to flank,” Your voice whisps over the line like smoke, “Left side—there’s a gap in the crates.”

John looks you in the eyes and blinks, eyelids twitching. With his beard covered in gunpowder, the man looks across the open space between the gunbattle to the left. Sure enough, right before he’s forced to snap back down to cover, the Captain spies a very well-hidden gap in the defenses.

He smiles viciously like a dog, and barks a laugh to you, nodding, “Good eye! Boys,” the two don’t pause their assault but call their questioning voices over the line. You don’t listen, occupied with giving off bursts of gunfire and trying to avoid the eyes of your fellow dead soldiers. Your lungs are compressed inside of your ribcage like prisoners. “Flank left. We’ll cover you!”

“Sir!” Steadying your breath, you avoid John’s confused glances and scoff to yourself, resituating your clammy hands.

When all’s said and done the four of you are the only ones left. Letting your gun sit on your chest you use the body as an armrest, allowing it to hang off the side from the trigger-guard. Your fingers twitch, and as John speaks to the two men, you stare silently at the gushing bodies of your fellows like phantoms spring from their chests.

John’s voice slows when he sees you apart from them, glancing at the soldiers at your feet before ordering the remaining men to get to the evac point. They try to argue everyone should be going together, and on all accounts, they’re completely right, but John won’t hear it.

“Go—that’s an order.” Reluctantly, the two glance at each other and speed off.

You jolt at a call of your name, head turning to face stormy blue as they gaze at you with concern. Stopping a few feet away, John stands still and folds his arms, face going rigid with concern as he glances you over for wounds.

His head slightly leans in, chin down.

“...You alright?” Hand flinching, you clear your throat.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You ask, fixing the position of your feet and forcing away the images of dead bodies and blank eyes.

You’d seen scores of men dead before—friend and foe—but you had thought you’d never have to see more of your own fall. It had been a long time since you’d felt the distant lull of numb horror in the back of your brain; like some ocean wave that drowns you under every time it comes back. It always comes back.

John narrows his eyes and frowns deeply, glancing around and hiding the slight way his right arm sags.

“Tomb?” He says it so lowly that you really have to focus, ears straining. That gravel was back, and you found yourself latching onto it. “Eh, you just focus on me, yeah? I’m right ‘ere.”

“I know,” you snap, eyes shuttering away only to find more vacant stares. You flinch back and look up into the sky; a sudden burn in your brain that you need to quell.

The man grows even more concerned with you, taking a step forward and clenching his jaw. He studies you, your shaking tension and the clench and loosening of your fists—attention always on you but roving to the dead men all around. Something clicks with a violent inhale.

John moves to you without a word and grasps you around the shoulders quickly. You gasp at that, immediate reaction to shove away, but only gape at the warmth that he brings you instead—the steady presence and chest to lean on. As the Brit drags you, you focus instead on calming your breathing.

The Captain lightly shimmies down your facemask and you suck down tight air as you go limp into his side.

“C’mon, Tomb. It’s alright. I’m here. I’m right here.” He’s muttering to you, disguising his pained grunts in favor of taking care of you.

That strange affection for you had grown in your time together…not that he’d said anything. It was more proper of him to watch out from a distance, not sure of your own feelings or the probability of you gazing back at him with the same amount of concealed longing. Many a night he’d sat on his bed and wondered. Wondered how an animal so extraordinary and remarkable took the form of a woman with a black sphinx patch and sharp eyes.

John had heard you laugh once through your expeditions together—sniping in Greenland. Once had been enough; if he never heard it again, he could still recall the pitch and frequency to the yawning of his soul. He didn’t need to hear it again.

It was locked into the fabric that made up your skin and speech, and every time he stared at you he could find it in your eyes.

The Captain puts you down near a crate around the corner, letting you lean into it as he turns and captures your neck from either side. You shake under him, blurry vision stuck to his dog tags as they wink against his chest.

“Tomb,” John says again, and with a lick of your chapped lips, you carefully turn your head up. Blue eyes crease worriedly. The thumbs on the sides of your neck caress up and down your rapid pulse steadily; calluses creating stimuli. A small smile meets you. “There we are, atta girl. Focus.”

Tears dribble down your cheeks, and you flatten your lips, whispering out brokenly, “I said I don’t like teams.”

John’s heart breaks.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” his hand captures the back of your head and you’re brought into a deep and firm embrace—gear pinching and prodding but neither of you care.

When was the last time you’d been held like this? The feeling makes your mouth quiver, your face stuck into the junction of the Brit’s neck and shoulder.

“John…” You whimper out and his arms around you only tighten—his tense nose shoved into your scalp as his eyes closed tightly.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, heart racing, “I’m so, so, sorry.”

You don’t know long he holds you there, the air filled with blood and death but just so soundly resting atop his vest and limp to his gentle swaying. The tears dry at some point, they always have to. Sniffling, your burning face takes in the scent of beard oil and gunpowder and you find yourself calmed by it.

Calmed by John.

The man holding you waits a moment more before he slightly leans back, staring down at you intently; nervously. You lick at the tears drying into the line of your mouth to taste the saltiness on your tongue as fingers grasp at your chin.

Angled up, your face is on full display.

John sighs and the drowned keratin of your lashes flutters, embarrassment flooding you. His eyes crease before his hands come up to take away your sorrows with a soft brush of his digits. The man clears his throat tinily, voice deep with emotion.

“Better?” Your eyes dip away from his, knowing you’d been staring.

“I…” Glancing over his right shoulder absentmindedly, you only get a word off before you see a fountain of red. Blinking away the last of your tears, John’s finger on your cheek stops moving as you freeze—stiff to the touch.

His panic spikes again.

“What’s going on—”

“When did you get hit?” Your voice is hard and laced with something you can’t name. Shaving back from John you frantically grab at his arm. In an instant, the Captain is whirled around and shoved back into the crate; he grunts loudly, eyes snapping wide.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He grumbles, but flinches when you peel at the bloodied layers of his compression shirt. John smirks, letting your touch rove him as your nose scrunches. He represses a shiver at the bite of your nails, whispering out, “If you wanted to throw me ‘round, Love…all you had to do was ask.”

You blink rapidly and turn your fast gaze to his eyes as you stutter, fingers covered in blood and holding apart the fabric of his outfit to show a bullet graze to his pale upper bicep. John’s cheeky smirk grows and against all the pain and the dark corners, you feel a bubbling in your gut.

A small chuckle snakes out, like twinkling bells.

“Shut up,” your smile leaves him breathless, smirk falling to a small open-mouthed screen of obvious admiration. A hum marks the back of his throat, eyebrows loosely curving upon his forehead.

You look over and find him like this—his gaze trapping you like his arms had. Like music, it takes you into its melody. Staring, your smile, gradually too, leaks out.

“What are you doing?” Your question is breathy. "What is your fascination with me?" John’s eyes stick with you, the shining, shimmering, blue. There are tempests held there and if this man was anything, he was a storm of intentions and promises.

“Looking,” John answers lowly. "Just looking."

You take down a breath, “At what, John?”

He chuckles at you, face close and pleasant, “Y’know, I haven’t quite figured that one out yet, Love.”

Blindly you wonder how the world can still turn while you both stand here—was it, even? How can life go on when such things are uttered to light? When they’re buried deep into your marrow like the dirt on top of a grave?

How can the Reaper knock at your doorways when love exists in such quantity…in the fractures of his eyes? Only when his lips brush yours do you understand.

It’s all here, and then it’s gone. Nothing can truly be as it was in the past, and therein lies the small, glorious, deaths. Both a blessing and a curse.

Your lips press deeply into one another and the blood of old wounds dries.

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