#not that you can really see the cigar but it’s there

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

Smoking with Price

F!/AFAB!Reader x Price fluff piece. Word count 2.7k (oops it got away with me) Warnings: Weed and Cigar smoking, alcohol mention(brief), Soap is a menace, a little angst, happy ending.

Price Masterlist | CoD Masterlist | AO3

You met on a riverside patio in a pub in Hereford.

Him nursing a large measure of whisky and a fat cigar. You with a soft drink and a fat spliff perched between your lips.

It’s balmy, bloody Mediterranean your grandfather would have said, as you exhale a heady cloud of smoke from your lungs. The cheap tobacco aftertaste heavy on your tongue as you feel the buzz brewing deep in your chest. You hate how the UK smoking culture always cuts weed with tobacco, but that’s your fault for buying pre-rolled.

“Fuckin’ hell,” you hear someone groan behind you, the heavy thunk of the patio door follows soon after the stranger’s grunt of disapproval.

“Sorry,” you say flatly, not really caring for the wanker’s comfort when he’s likely to just be coming out here to rapidly huff a few Lambert & Butlers – worse yet, Sterling Super Kings – before going back to the poor girls he has been dry-humping against all night.

“What’re you apologising for?” The gruff voice asks as you turn over your shoulder to address him.

“Thought you were bitching about this,” you say as you wave your dominant hand back and forth, spliff caught between your index and middle finger as the orange tip glows angrily against the darkening sky. You don’t know if it’s the high or the fact you haven’t gotten laid in months, but the moment your eyes connect with him you’re done for.

He has eyes like blown glass, bright blue with an intensity that makes you feel almost shy beneath his gaze. His beard is thick but well kept, despite clearly being able to grow it full, its styled into a heavy set of mutton chops. On anyone else it might look comical, but he isn’t anyone else.

You know you’re staring, but he’s not shy either. Those baby blues raking up and over you as he clearly fights a battle in his head over whether or not to join you. You don’t mind the pause, the indecision, it gives you a little longer to ogle.

He’s broad, like ridiculously wide with strong shoulders that pull at the seams of his white t-shirt. You never thought you were into body hair, but here you are practically salivating at the way his chest hair teases up out of his collar. His khaki cargo shorts sit low on his hips and your eyes are drawn to his thick calves. His hair is thick there too, prompting you to wonder how hairy he is elsewhere-.

“Christ, no, didn’t even see you there.”

Ouch.

You meet his gaze as he cringes, clearly realising how abrupt that sounded.

“Sorry,” he starts but you shrug him off, bringing the spiff back to your lips to take a long drag, trying not to grimace as you fully realise how high the tobacco to weed ratio in the blunt really is.

“S’okay, don’t owe me shit,” you say with a shrug.

“My mother raised me better than to make a beautiful woman feel dejected,” he says, voice softer now, almost sultry, as he settles a metre or so to your right. A respectable distance. He pulls a white tube with red detailing from his pocket, you smile at the familiar sight as he pops it open to reveal a hefty cigar.

“Going to give me whiplash with that turnaround, soldier,” you scoff as you feel the heat rise to your cheeks. You look over the banks of the Wye, unsurprised at how high the river is this after the recent rainfall. You can just about make out the cathedral on the far bank, it’s an oddly romantic scene.

I must be fucking baked.

You think to yourself with a coy smile as you’re jolted back to the here and now as the stranger speaks again.

“What makes you think I’m a soldier, love?”

“A hunch,” you say with a smirk as you turn to face the handsome man, you’re not going to give up your secrets so quicky.

“Oh?” he smiles right back as he pats his many pockets, looking for a lighter, “Enlighten me?”

“You’re not local,” you start as you watch him grow more frustrated, the furrow in his brow endearing, “At least, not in the traditional sense, accents all wrong,” you say slowly as you reach into your pocket for your own lighter.

“Go on,” he grumbles as he looks to you with a silent plea for help etched on his face. You toss him your lighter as you tease your spliff back to life, you caught it just before the last embers had died.

“Your choice of smoke is the dead giveaway thought, you’re not stuffy enough to be one of the local rich pricks, so it’s soldier or hipster,” you say with a breathy exhale as he rests the cigar between his plush lips. You swallow dryly as you look down to see your glass empty.  

“Good observational skills,” he says with a smile as he ignites the lighter, “I’m committed to this the moment I light up,” he warns as he takes your lighter from your outstretched hand, “Fancy sticking around and keeping this old Captain company?”

“Fuckin’ knew it,” you smile in triumph as you nod, “And yeah, I’ve got nowhere to be.”

He cocks his head to the side for a second before nodding in appreciation, he slowly lights the cigar, fingertips gently rolling it around to get the right heat distribution. You’re mesmerised as you watch him work.

“Thanks,” he says softly, his fingers brush yours as he gives you back your lighter. You pocket it without a word. There’s a tension churning in your gut as you try not to get your hopes up.

“Want another round?” He asks as he finishes the amber liquid in his glass, “I’m buying.”

“Sure, I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you nod as he passes you his cigar.

“For safe keeping, you’re welcome to some if you want,” he says with a wink before heading back into the pub. You’re left to your thoughts, as you try to decide if you should shoot your shot with him or not. You’re desperate for a good lay, but there’s something about him that makes you want more than that. You’re not sure you could deal with the bitter aftertaste of a one-night stand with him with no promise of seeing him again.

You shake off the creeping negative thoughts as you refocus on the here and now, you place the cigar between your lips and take a short, tentative puff. It’s rich, the flavour coating your tongue with warm woody notes and hints of coffee.

You’re warm, fuzzy even, as you imagine what it would be like to kiss him. You wonder if he would taste like the cigar trapped between your lips as you take another slow, savouring pull. Or would he melt on your mouth like the rich, peaty whiskey you assume he drinks. You can make believe, even if you may never find out.

You hear the patio door open and close once more, you’re about to make a silly quip about getting back here double time when you hear an unfamiliar Scottish lilt in place of your cockney companion.

“So, you’re the reason Price is rushin’ to get out of his birthday party.”

You snub out the last dregs of your joint on the ashtray as you try not to snort at the Scot. First a man with mutton chops, now one with a mohawk? You couldn’t make this shit up.

“Price?” You ask a little fuzzily, the high blurring things around the edges a little as you try and connect the very obvious dots, “Oh, you mean John?”

“Oh, la-dee-dah, he’s given you his name and his cigar, that’s practically betrothal right there, lass,” The Scot barks out a laugh as he flops back against the low wall, grinning at you like a Cheshire cat.

“Respectfully,” you roll your eyes as you bring the cigar to your lips but don’t take another drag as you eye up the objectively attractive man, “I’m not interested in the dick waving, negging, or whatever this is.”  

He’s in jeans and a Metallica t-shirt, he’s similarly strong and broad to Price, with ice-blue eyes. You wonder scathingly if the SAS has a beauty standard these days.

“Ouch,” He groans, clutching at his heart as if you’d physically wounded him, “I can see why he’s so giddy, he likes them feisty.”

“Alright, piss off,” you grumble, mood souring at the overly familiar ribbing from the stranger, it screams of boys will be boys or some other misogyny-riddled play. Sending the asshole friend out to rile you up so Price can sweep you off your feet, big strong Captain to the rescue.

“Ah, hen, I didn’t mean t’ upset you,” he starts but you can’t shake the ick, this was a mistake.

“Save it,��� you say as you rest the cigar on the ash tray, “Asshole.”

“Fuck,” you hear the Scot groan as you slip down the side steps that lead down to the near bank of the river.

Maybe it’s because you’re high and a little jumpy, but you’re not in the mood to be toyed with. There’s a small voice in the back of your mind that thinks you overreacted, that the Scotsman maybe came on a little strong but meant no harm.

But you’ve already made the impulsive decision to leave, following the river back towards your Air BnB where a cold shower and a lumpy bed await. You feel stupid, but know you’ll feel worse if you walk back to the pub now.

Made your bed. Now lie in it.

You scold yourself inwardly as you slow your pace from an angry lurch to a pitiful bimble. You’re walking for a while before you realise you should have gotten back to the red back door of the riverside property you’re staying at already. You pull out your phone, bringing up the address of the Air BnB on Maps. You watch as the GPS calibrates and your stomach drops.

You’re going the wrong way.

You’re rooted to the spot, caught between the river and the prospect of trying to navigate the winding residential streets of Hereford. You know Uber doesn’t operate in the area, and you don’t fancy tracking down one of the Beryl Bikes to cycle back through the small town. You know it’s a straight route from here to the property if you just suck it up and risk being spotted on your way back past the pub.

“Fuck it,” you grumble to yourself as you turn back around, power-walking back the way you came, knowing it’s the logical, and most direct route back to your accommodation.

You’re passing back by the pub when you hear the commotion, you almost ignore it, but you hear John’s voice loud and clear.

“She was nice, Soap, did you really have to scare her off?”

You pause, hidden from view above as you see John leaning back against the balcony wall where you had been only minutes before. His back is turned to you as he chews out someone further in on the terrace - you guess the Scot from before.

“I’m sorry, I was just havin’ a bit of fun, didn’t think she’d scarper like that,” he admits and you think you hear remorse in his heavily accented lilt.

“Well, you thought wrong, fuckin’ hell,” John turns around at the last minute, just as you’re about to leave and his eyes meet yours in the murky gloom of dusk. You smile up at him before forcing yourself to walk on, a small part of you hopes he follows you.

“Goin’ for a walk, I’ll deal with you later,” you hear him as you maintain a casual pace, the sound of the river gurgling in your ears as you breathe in the cool night air.

It doesn’t take long for John to catch up to you, a gentle call of your name giving you pause as you wait for him to level with you.

“Hey,” he says with a sigh as he keeps a respectable distance, “Sorry about Johnny, he’s… full on.”

“Johnny?” You laugh, “You SAS boys share names these days?”

“Just a funny coincidence,” John says with a shrug as he matches your pace, “I am sorry though, truly.”

“Appreciate it,” you hum as you look ahead, not trusting yourself to make eye contact, “But I’m not fucking you tonight, I hope you know that.”

“Reasonable,” he chuckles, “Can I at least walk you home?”

“Sure,” you shrug as you feel the flutter of excitement deep in your chest.

“So, you local, or?” He asks as you see the amber glow of his cigar in your periphery, the taste still lingers rich and heavy on your tongue from earlier.

“Just visiting,” you say as you spot the red door up ahead, dread forming in the pit of your stomach as the inevitable end of the night looms over you. John doesn’t press further, and you feel a little dejected as you realise, he may have just been being nice.

 “Well this is me,” you say as you pause at a small wrought iron gate, “Walk me to the door?”

You bite your lip, it’s cheesy, but you’re grasping at any extra time you can here.

“Sure,” his lips quirk up around his cigar as he opens the gate, holding it for you as you slip past.

His presence behind you as you ascend the short flight of stairs has the hair on the back of your neck standing up.

“Thank you for walking me home,” you say softly as you linger on the stoop, John hovering on the top step as he looks from your lips to your eyes in a brief flash. Blink and you would have missed it.

“Any time,” he says as he plucks the half-smoked cigar from his lips, “If you’re free tomorrow night, I’d like to take you for a proper drink.”

“Bold of you to think I’m interested,” you smirk as you take half a step towards him, “But yes, I’d like that.”

He lets out a heavy exhale and your cheeks burn with giddy anticipation as you realise he is interested after all. You blame the weed for making you double and triple guess him.

“Can I get your number?” You ask as you pull out your phone to see a message from Kate, you swipe the notification up as you pull up your keypad. John inputs his number and you play out the dance of calling the number to give him yours.

“Tomorrow night then,” John says as he pockets his phone, already turning to descend the steps back onto the riverside.

“Hey,” you call out, fingers circling his wrist as you pull him back to look at you, his deep blue eyes go wide as you fawn up at him, “Happy Birthday.”

You cup his jaw with your other hand and pull his lips against yours. You gasp at the way it feels, like electricity sparking between you as he places his free hand around the back of your neck, holding you to him as he holds his cigar to the side.

Your lips slot together like you’re made for one another and you have to muster every ounce of self-control not to deepen it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you whisper against his lips before slipping from his grasp.

He watches, dumbfounded, as you disappear inside, his cheeks rosy and lips wet as he chuckles to himself. He whistles merrily to himself the whole way back to the pub, messaging you on a whim, wishing you a good night.

~*~

The next morning, John is making his way into the briefing room, distracted enough that he runs into a person he doesn’t immediately recognise.

“Sorry,” he grunts, “Didn’t see you there.”

You turn with a grin on your face as you recognise the sound of his voice.

“Morning Captain,” you say with a wink as you revel in the awestruck look on his face, “Hope you had a good night?”

Smoking a J with Simon Smoking with Soap Smoking with Gaz Smoking with Kate Price Masterlist | CoD Masterlist | AO3

#john price #captain john price #captain price #captain johnathan price #task force 141 #john price x reader #john price x you #john price x y/n #captain price x reader #price x reader #price x you #price x y/n #captain price x you #captain price cod #john price cod #captain john price x you #cod x reader #cod x y/n #cod x you #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #cod mw3 #141 fluff series #Theywhowriteandknowthings fluff #weed #Tw weed #cw weed

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Loving Her Was Red

Summary: Now that war has begun there are some major changes for Dick and Lois, and as D-Day approaches can they endure. Warnings: unrequited love, D-Day, themes of war, injury.

I’m finally posting the last few parts of this series as they have been sat completed in my drafts for months so I thought I’d get them out here. I’m not sure if many people are still following this story but i put lots of work into finishing this series at the start of the year so here it is.

D-Day

June 3rd 1944, Milton Hall, Peterborough

“Well Lois, here’s to you. You saved our asses out there,” Ray clinked his glass of whiskey with Lois first, then with Raoul, who sat smoking his cigar in silence.

“I was just doing my job, Ray,” Lois reassured them, relaxing back in the armchair by the fire. She had quickly become firm friends with Ray, he reminded her of a lot of men from Easy Company, whereas Raoul, who Ray often called Raffy, was softer spoken.

“Well then I sure am glad you’re good at your job,” Ray laughed, swigging back his whiskey, before pouring himself another one.

Raoul mumbled something and excused himself, leaving Ray and Lois in silence.

“So have you got yourself a broad back home?” Lois asked, watching as Ray’s eyes creased as he smiled.

“Yeah, I’ve got a beautiful girl, Barbara. She’s a real beauty. Here?” Ray dug into his jacket pocket and revealed a picture of Barbara. Lois smiled, taking the photo and studying the smiling woman looking back at her. Barbara was a beautiful girl, her brown curls seemed to bounce despite the still photo.

“She sure is a looker, Ray,” Lois passed the picture back and Ray grinned.

“So, have you got a guy in Europe coming home to you?”

Lois laughed, “not quite.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a picture of Dick. The edges were crumpled slightly and she lovingly rubbed her thumb over the picture before passing it to Ray.

“A paratrooper, huh?” Ray laughed, “and a Lieutenant at that. Good job, Drake.”

Lois groaned, reaching back and snatching the photo from Ray’s grip, “Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not,” Ray continued to laugh. “I don’t know if you're just fun and adventurous and he looks like he’d be really uptight.”

“He’s not uptight. Dick is…”

“Ah he has a name. Good to know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lois glared at the Lieutenant but he just grinned in amusement.

“Well, one day when you invite me to your wedding I’ll know the groom's name,” Ray raised his eyebrows cheekily, taking another sip from his whiskey. Thinking back, Ray reminded her a lot of Lewis Nixon. Lewis had consumed her thoughts more and more since their parting and the blush that consumed his face when she’d kiss his cheek when they parted. When these thoughts did consume her mind the images of Dick wandered into her mind, brushing Lewis away and becoming her all consuming thought. She’d tried not to think of Dick too often, worried that one he’d distract her and two that if she thought of him too often it would erase the perfect illusion of their beautiful time together in Aldbourne where there was no war and only love.

“Earth to Lois, hey where’d you go?” Ray asked, waving his hand in front of Lois’ face until she snapped out of her dream. Lois swatted his hand away, causing Ray to snort. “All right there, Captain. Take it easy.”

Lois just glared at Ray and he soon fell silent, choosing to look fallornely into the bottom of his empty glass. Lois didn’t know whether to make further conversation with him but after a while he too retired to bed and Lois was left by the dying fire alone.

“Well Dick, our time has nearly come. I’ll see you in Normandy,” she whispered into the embers before surrendering to her exhaustion and returning to her room.

June 5th 1944 in the sky above Normandy with the 101st Airborne

Dick stood in the doorway, watching the world flash by below him in dark shades of green and black. Flak fire blew up around them, hitting several of the C47 and sending them into an explosive nose dive towards the ground. Dick winced as one plane hit in a great burst of fire. He knew they weren’t going to get through the war unscathed but to have already lost so many. The green light flashed beside him and he felt his legs buckle as he threw himself into the night, feeling the static line tug free and ricocheting him into the breeze. Bullets flew past his head and he prayed that somehow he made it to the ground alive. The rippling fire of machine guns and Ack-Acks accompanied his dissent to earth.

The ground connecting with his feet brought him back out of the daze he’d slipped into as he fell and he jumped in response, quickly cutting his parachute free and cursing at the loss of his leg bag and his M1. He was suddenly glad that he’d put his picture of Lois into the inside pocket of his jacket and not with his bible in his leg bag. He wasn’t sure what he’d have done if he’d lost her.

All he had left was his knife and someone he’d not fancy his chances against a German soldier with just a knife. Another paratrooper fell beside him, fumbling and tugged at his parachute.

“Flash?” Dick whispered and shook his head at the private’s profanity. “I don’t think that’s the correct reply, Trooper.” Dick approached the young boy, helping him out of his chute. “I say Flash, you say Thunder.”

“Yes, Sir. Thunder, Sir.” The young boy replied, pulling off his helmet and his may west as Dick opened the boy's musette bag.

“Coach?” The boy looked at Dick, “It’s Hall, Sir. I was on the basketball team.”

Dick nodded, “leg-bag?”

“Prop blast got it, Sir, and my radio and batteries with it,” Hall complained, shoving his helmet back on his head. After establishing that their leg bags were out of reach, Dick tapped Hall on the shoulder, “Follow me.”

June 5th 1944 in the sky above Normandy with the SOE’s

Lois cursed as she hit the ground with a thud, wrestling against the straps of her parachute to pull herself free. She could hear the gunfire to her right in the distance and was thankful that she’d landed away from the main parachute drop zone.

She pulled off her may west and shoved it with her parachute, covering it in the long grass. She was glad her radio had survived the fall and pulled the bag across her body. Keeping her head low, she shuffled towards the direction of an old frame house that was pinned as the rendezvous point. Ray jumped before her and Raoul jumped after, but the amount of men currently being scattered over Normandy, they could have landed anywhere.

Lois knew she was about a mile from the house, glancing at the map once more before shoving it back in her pocket with her compass. It was the compass Dick had given her before she’d left for London.

“It will always guide you back to him.” He’d promised her as they parted ways.

Taking a deep breath, Lois put her best foot forward, keeping her head low as she dashed through the open field, glad that the summer had been warm and the grass and bushes had grown tall providing excellent cover.

The farm house lay in a shadowy, wooded area on the outskirts of a small village. Lois knew it was risky being so close to civilians who could report her but it was the set rendezvous point and if she had any hope of meeting up with Ray and Raoul then that was her only option.

Creepy through the open door, Lois' eyes were plunged into darkness. She scrambled around for her touch, suddenly acutely aware of how bright the gunfire had made it outside, lighting up the sky in an amber burst of ammunition.

A shuffling noise from the back of the kitchen caused Lois to freeze. Was it Ray or Raoul? Shining her torch cautiously around the room she came face to face with a very startled paratrooper who in response threw a plate across the room at her.

“Fuck!” Lois cursed as it clattered loudly to the floor, ceramic shards cascading across the room. “What the fuck was that, Yank?” She hissed, “Did you really think you could smite a Kraut with a plate.”

An amused laugh followed and Lois shone the light back up to reveal the face of none other than Lewis Nixon.

“Only you could be that stupid,” Lois cursed, moving towards him and throwing her arms around him in a quick hug. “But I truly am relieved it was you.”

Lewis chuckled, “It’s good to see you too, Lois. Who would have thought it? You and I stuck in Normandy together, huh?”

Lois nodded, her eyes scanning out the smudge kitchen window to ensure their prescenes hadn’t been noticed. “Where did you land?”

“Just behind the house. I could hear someone coming so I came straight in here. Thought I stood a better chance in here than in the open.”

Lois nodded, turning back to Lewis, her eyebrow raised, “Aren’t you supposed to be taking the guns that are firing on the American beaches?”

Lewis nodded, adjusting his M1 on his shoulder, “I am but we missed the DZ and have been dropped all over the goddamn peninsula.”

Lois nodded, pulling out her map, “Well, I think we’re about here,” she thrust her finger out to the map, pointing at their precise location. “And over here is where you want to be.” She pointed at Sainte Marie Du Mont.

Lewis nodded and although he should be on his way he seemed reluctant to leave. “Do you want me to stay? You know, until the others arrive?”

Lois snorted, “You know I can take care of myself, Lewis, and anyway you have some work to do and you don’t have long to do it.” She pointed to her watch and Lewis sighed.

“You’re right.” He trudged towards the door, shoulders slumped and for a moment Lois wanted to tell him to stop, to wait for a while, after all she could be sending him to his death. But if he waited with her then they could end up dead.

“Lewis,” he stopped in his tracks and turned, a hopeful smile on his lips. She hurried towards him, throwing her arms around his neck and placing a kiss to his cheek. “Be safe alright. Look after yourself and Dick if you find him. He needs you more than he’d let on. You need each other.”

Lewis kissed her forehead, nodding slowly, “I will.” Watching him go, Lois felt the pang of sadness in her heart that she’d felt that day when he’d walked down the front garden when they’d said goodbye. It was strange really, after all Lewis Nixon was not the sort of man she would have ever considered being friends with, and yet in some strange way she wouldn’t be without him. Knowing that he had Dick’s back and Dick had his, filled her with some sense of relief. At least they had each other.

Dear Lois,

I know I won’t be able to send you this letter for a while, but I cannot help but think of you on the night it all began.

Lewis tells me he ran into you after the drop. I’m glad you landed safely. The whole of the 506 missed the drop zone and we were scattered but we have managed to regroup now. We have survived D-Day and may we live through D-Day plus one.

I fear that the days to come will be the hardest, but knowing that you are here, somewhere nearby brings me comfort and I pray that you are safe wherever you may be. I hope the compass is serving you well. I pray that we will both find our way back to each other.

May my words bring you some comfort, whenever you get to read them.

I love you

Dick

Dick sealed the letter, scribbling Lois name on the front before shoving it down into his pocket. They had made it, they had both made it to Normandy safely, that was the first step in a long line of steps that they had to walk to get back to each other, but at least they were one down.

Lewis stuck his head around the door frame, knocking lightly, “You alright?” He flopped down beside him on a rickety chair, taking his hit flask from his jacket pocket and taking a quick swig.

“Yeah, I’m fine. You?” Dick barely looked up at his friend, too preoccupied with Lois’ picture in his hand.

Lewis shrugged, “Can’t complain. What are you

doing?”

Dick oblivious to his friend's question until the picture was taken from his hand, “She sure is a looker, Dick. You did well.”

Dick snatched the picture from his friend's clutches, “She’s not an object, Lew. She’s a very talented woman.” Dick wasn’t sure why he felt the need to defend Lois so much, she was a beautiful woman after all but there was so much more to her than that.

Lewis, seemingly taken aback by Dick’s outburst, sat back down and lit a cigarette, “I never said she wasn’t Dick.” Lewis knew she was a talented woman. He’d seen her file, he’d read about her ventures in occupied France, about her education. He knew far more about her than what she probably told Dick. It saddened him really, that Dick wouldn’t be able to truly know her until after the war, and that was if they both made it that long. It bought Lewis some satisfaction to know more about her than his friend. Someone it made her not being his a little easier. Not that he’d ever tell her how he felt, why would he? Dick was his best friend and he wasn’t about to ruin the best thing he had going. No he would sit, silently and reserved, nursing his unrequited love from afar and ignoring the burning feeling in his chest.

“I sure am glad to see you, Red,” Ray threw his arms around Lois, squeezing her tightly, “And you too, Raffy.” He tried to hug the French man but earned himself a rough push which sent him falling back into the worn armchair.

“It’s good to see you too, Yorkie,” Lois laughed as Ray scrunched his nose at his nickname. While Lois had earned her undercover name for her fiery personality, Ray came from New York, he was a true New Yorker and it had stuck.

“When you too have finished your reunion. We have some Nazis to fight,” Raoul interrupted with a harsh glare.

Lois nodded quickly, gathering up her radio, “Of course. Let’s go.”

As the trio headed out under the cover of darkness into enemy territory, Lois couldn’t help the feeling of dread building in her stomach. They had been trained to the highest level of how to fight and evade the enemy and if in doubt to end their lives to avoid capture and allowing information into the wrong hands. It always baffled her that they wanted to create such a nightly-knit team between the agents and yet they were so dispensable. Lois only hoped things wouldn’t come to that, but nothing in life is certain.

Tags: @georgieluz @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @msmercury84 @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @mads-weasley @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @hesbuckcompton-baby @ronsparky @allthingsimagines @bucky32557038ww2 @hanniewinnix @inglourious-imagines @l13bg0tt @1waveshortofashipwreck @malarkgirlypop

(I’ve tagged people who were previously interested in this series - if you’d like to be added or removed from the taglist please let me know)

#loving her was red #band of brothers #hbo war #dick winters #dick winters x oc #richard winters #lewis nixon #easy company #dick winters x reader

[rununcal]

Just wanted to say I love how u draw toon tied terror Bendy! Your art is absolutely inkredible

Thank you!! It’s fun to branch out in terms of style with this project ^^! (Btw your work is inkredible too!!)

#toon tied terror au #rununcart #cw cigar #cw smoking #not that you can really see the cigar but it’s there #cw cigarette

[lovifie]

Accidentally Kidnapping Mafia Boss Price

A.K.A. Reverse Trope Writing Prompts

masterlist

cw: guns, car accident

You hate your job, and part of it, is because of how much you hate your boss.

If watching "The Devil Wears Prada" taught you anything, is that working as an assistant is an exhausting, humiliating and underpaid job.

But still... is the best one you have had.

So when your boss tells you that you need to drive his car to get his dog to the hairdresser, you agree. Because out of all the disgusting things that he makes you do, driving his way too expensive car to take his actual delight of a dog to the hairdresser and waiting two paid hours while doing anything, it's really not the worst.

Taking the keys from his desk when he tells you that the dog is already in the car waiting and that you better hurry, you waste no time in taking the elevator. Three massive men, in black suits, walk out right as you enter; catching on the corner of your eye as they walk towards your boss's office.

You recognise the car immediately, only a money freak like your boss could afford it; so without even looking at the back seat, you turn on the car making the engine roar before going out onto the road.

Missing the identical car parked behind the column.

The dog must be sleeping behind, you assume when you can't hear his usual panting. You can hear his breathing, and the sound of movement. But it's the sound of a lighter that makes you look up into the rearview mirror.

You freeze when you lock eyes with the man sitting in the back seat. Blue eyes, mutton chops and a mischievous smile on his lips.

"You are not the dog." It's the only thing you can say, thankful for the red light and the fact the car is stopped, unable to look away from the mirror.

"Well, good morning to you too, darling." He says, a deep chuckle escaping his lips around his cigar.

"You- You can't smoke here, my boss, he hates-" You mumble, trying to keep an eye out for the changing street light.

"I can't smoke in my own car, sweetheart?" He asks, cocking his head as he does.

"Pardon?" You ask, turning your head to finally look at him. The massive man sitting cross-legged on the back seat, the suit obviously expensive for the way it clings to all the right parts of his muscular body.

"I think you got into the wrong car, sweetheart." He says, resting his elbow on the door.

"No, no. This is my boss's car and you are supposed to be a dog!" You exclaim, pointing at him. "Where is the dog!?"

"Are you calling me a dog?" He asks, amusement in his voice.

"No! I- I'm supposed to take the dog to the fucking groomers, not you!" You say, exasperated.

"I wouldn't say no to a grooms session." He says, rubbing his beard as he looks into the window reflection. "The light's green."

You furrowed your eyebrow, jumping when the car behind honks at you and you start driving again.

"You should probably drive me back, though. My boys won't take nicely your attempted kidnap." He says casually, looking at the back of your head. "Especially Ghost."

"Who are you? A mob?" You ask, snickering to yourself.

"Precisely." He answers with a nod of his head. "Not to sound cocky, but have you heard of the 141, right?"

And it takes a second for the pieces to fall together, Price chuckes again when he sees your eyes widen at the realisation.

"No!"

"Yes."

"Noo!"

"Yeeah!"

"You are not!"

"I am, in fact."

"You can't be!"

"Well, I am, love."

You rub your hand over your face, quickly using it to change the destination on the GPS to go back to your building.

"I- I will drive you back, and I'll get on the car I'm supposed to, yeah? We can leave this as a funny history, right?" You ask, looking at him through the rearview mirrors.

"Sounds good with me. We wouldn't want anyone thinking you tried to kidnap me, right, love?" He asks and you quickly shake your head. "You are a good girl, right? An honest mistake?"

You nod your head eagerly, trying to fight the tears back. And something about the pathetic scene playing before him must make him feel bad because he leans forward, resting his hand on your shoulder. "It's all good, sweetheart. Let's go back."

You nod again, sniffling with a lack of decorum; and when you look forward again, you can only see a black car driving beside you. You make eye contact with the driver, coming face to face with a skeleton mask.

He then moves back, letting you see the man sitting beside him and the gun he is holding. Pointing at you.

You barely have time to raise your shoulder, moving your head down, before you feel the pain on your arm. It makes you lose control of the car, driving straight into a light pole.

You hit your head on the driving wheel knocking yourself out, and the last thing you hear before going dark is the man behind you shouting.

"Johnny, you bloody muppet!"

It could have been hours by the time you come back to your senses, hearing the car alarm going off and the searing pain of the bullet wound on your shoulder.

"I said that one of us should have stayed with you!" You hear a muffled voice complain from outside the car.

"I don't need a nanny, Kyle. Besides, the three of you are a bigger threat than what the poor girl was." You recognise the voice as the man that was sitting behind you

"She managed to kidnap you, Price. I would call that a threat" A second mysterious voice adds.

"She was driving back! Was supposed to take a dog to get a haircut or something." The blue eyes man says.

"Eh, she's moving." A third voice says, considerably closer than the rest, urging you to move. You barely lift your head enough to see, coming face to face with the barrel of the gun.

"Make sure not to miss this time." One of the voices says.

"Johnny, lower the bloody gun!" The only voice you recognise says, the gun automatically lowering.

"But why, sir?" The man whines, apparently angry at not being allowed to kill you.

"Because you three dumbs dumbs just killed her boss when you were supposed to interrogate him, so that makes her both..." He says, leaning his arm on the ceiling of the car and looking at you. "our only source of information... And my new assistant. What do you say, sweetheart?"

Taglist: @crashtestbunny @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @waiting-so-long @mothymunson @cod-z

@lyralein @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @dumb12bvtch1212

@thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock

@arbesa-mind @cmbghost @multifandomheathenannie @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk

@reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat

@lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @fraserbraw

@rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting

@dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger @soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708

@katreintjie @sacvh @thesinsoflust @sodavrr @wolfieisacat

@yuki2129 @mikaronn @idk-justkane @shanhalen @thatoneslvt

#mafia boss price #mafia Price #reverse tropes #call of duty x reader #call of duty #cod #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #captain john price #captain price #john price #price x reader #cod x reader #price #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #john price x reader #task force 141 #price call of duty

[ghostbsuter]

The house of Nightingale & Constantine ( P. 1 )

> next part

.・゜-: ✧ :-

You know, when Batman reassured him (was it tho? His way of using words is a bit... confusing.) of bringing in a third person for their common problem, Phantom, Danny, didn't press nor worry.

He regrets it now, just a little bit.

—

Dick liked Danny.

The small guy has been an absolute delight!

(He isn't grinning when he and Damian duke it out, doesnt watch fondly when Danny and Jason exchange the most weirdest ways of insulting someone or when He and Steph gossip, Cass sitting behind him with her hands in his hair.)

(He can see from the corner of his eye the way Tim hides a grin behind his hand, texting Danny someone rapidly and their Guest laughing at random times, the way even Duke, despite wearing the sunglasses, seems to warm up pretty quickly to their new brother friend.)

(It's doesn't help that he has black hair and blue eyes either.)

Danny has been living with them for some time now, temporarily as it may be, and grew on them all pretty quickly.

Bruce told them when Constantine arrived at the cave, seemingly irritated for unknown reasons, and they all were ushered to the elevator.

There is no noise as they arrive, Danny few feet off the ground and engaged on a hot topic with Steph as they go down the stairs.

The moment Constantine is in sight however, has their resident ghost snapping out of the conversation and zooming in on the man from afar.

It's kind of funny? The way his black hair fluffs up like in a Ghibli Movie, the way his eyes narrow to slits, glowing a faint green.

Many shout in alarm at the sight of agitation (?), Dick sees Constantines own eyes glow a eery gold??

It's like two cats staring down one another, a showdown.

(Someone should record this.)

The two meet down in the middle of the cave, Danny is bristling and John scowling.

"Really Bats? A Nightingale?" The blond man scoffs, pushing his hands into the pockets of his coat, hands roaming for cigarettes probably.

"Excuse me? I thought the line of Constantine died out back then, with the way you handle your stuff." The teen hisses back, a hand running through his poofed up hair.

"Hah!" The Hellblazer gives a mocking laugh, cigar already in hand and lit. "'With the way we handle our stuff'? Weren't the Nightingales out of commission not so long ago?"

The glow might have died out, but the tension only rose higher.

Danny turns to Batman, glowering.

"Asking for the help of the house of Constantine? Are you crazy? Those nutjobs have no self-preservation!"

John's eye twitches at the remark.

"No self-preservation, my ass. Nightingales do nothing but mess with stuff they shouldn't, talk about self-preservation when you have it yourself, pipsqueak."

And Danny? Danny growls.

"All you do is trick every being to do your bidding! One day all of this will catch up to your house and me? I will watch as it burns."

The blonds cigarette snaps in his grip.

"Burn? Me? Doesn't the house if Nightingales hunt the beings we 'trick'? It seems to me that your lineage is already going down as we speak."

The argument (?) continues and the batclan does nothing but watch as if its a particularly interesting tennis match.

(John looks like he's about 5 seconds away from strangling Danny and the teen about to bite off John's head.)

"What's going on?" Finally, Batman steps in.

"What's going on? What's going on?? You said you'd bring in a third person! Not a constantine!"

The bat shows no signs of anything really, when both teen and man whip around to face him.

"I thought you'd know better than to involve yourself with the house of Nightingales."

"I was here first! No take backs!"

"And yet I know bats longer, don't I, pipsqueak?"

"Foolish trickster!"

"Imprudent necromancer!"

(Apparently, beef between two houses of dark exists and they had the chance to experience it first hand.)

(This is one of the many occurrences.)

#dp x dc crossover #fic prompt #writing prompt #john constantine #danny nightingale #the house of Constanine and the House of Nightingale have infinite beef #constanine can and will punt this literal toddler #steph: fight fihht fight #danny and john have family beef #what if danny meets constantine but i do u one better #its hate at first sight #batman has absolute no idea what happening #hes taking it like a champ tho #its jason btw #the one who records this showdown of two feral cats that are alive (or half) despite the circumstances #dc x dp prompt #dcxdp #dpxdc

[coryosbaby]

— ɪ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ ᴀɴ ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛ, ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀꜰꜰᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ !

cowboy! Coriolanus snow x fem! Reader

synopsis: you meet a handsome, mysterious cowboy at a carnival.

content warning . western au, dumb choices, handjobs, cunnilingus, age gap if u squint ig

When you first lock eyes with him, it’s at a county fair.

How cliché it is, but in a small southern town of Kentucky it’s not that uncommon to meet your lover at such an event. Everyone from your town knows each other, knows every name, face, and house. It’s a wonder that anyone has any privacy at all.

But the man you’re looking at, you’ve never seen him around these parts before. His brown curls are hidden— you know he has brown curls because of the way the brunette locks peek out from underneath his cowboy hat. He’s wearing a button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, suspenders, and the usual pants you see on every other man. But he wears all of this so exceptionally well that you can’t take your eyes off of him.

And he’s looking at you.

You shiver as you watch him watch you. Your momma stands beside you and gossips with her church going friends, and you hope she doesn’t notice the eyes you’re giving this perfect stranger. She’d pound your hide for sure. You smooth down your dress, your eyes wondering to the man’s muscle-ey arms. He must be very fit underneath that outfit.

He moves, walking towards a ring toss game and winks at you. Heat creeps down from your fingers to your toes, your bloomers become drenched with arousal. You want to talk to him— of course you do. Who wouldn’t? Your momma is busy, anyway, so what harm could it really do? You say goodbye to her and tell her you’re going to go play a few games. You’re not exactly lying about that. Your heel clad feet make their way across the dirt as you subtly take your place beside the man. He smells like soap and cigars, and you’re thankful that he isn’t like the smelly men that plague your location. He turns to look at you, a smile playing on his lips.

“Do you wanna play?”

His voice has a soft southern drawl, not as vibrant as yours but still there. He must be from somewhere more up north.

“I’m not that good at these games,” you sheepishly reply. “But I’d like to watch you, sir, if that’s okay.”

“Sir, huh?” He seems amused, and his big hands toss a ring that lands around an old milk bottle. “I’m not that old, y’know.”

You nervously fumble on the balls of your feet.

“I jus’ turned twenty.”

He looks at you again, taking in the sight of your lipstick smeared lips.

“Thought you’d be younger,” he teases, and you smirk.

“Is that a problem?”

“Not for me,” he laughs, throwing another ring and once again, landing it onto the milk bottle. You wonder what else his hands can do besides play carnival games. “I’m twenty five, sweet thing.”

A slight age gap, but nothing you can’t handle. He tosses the last ring towards the bottles, and it lands again. The man who’s monitoring the tent lets out a loud whistle.

“First winner of the night,” he says. “Which stuffed animal d’ya want?”

At the mention of the wall of prizes, your eyes dart to all of them. They land on a brown bear with a pink bow wrapped up around its neck, and you frown when you realize that you weren’t the one to win the game.

But to your surprise, the man beside you smiles with his shiny white teeth and points at the bear.

“That one, right there, for this pretty lady.”

Excitement floods through you as the man grabs the bear from the shelf. He hands it to you and you squeal, hugging the bear to your chest.

“Thank you, sir!”

You’re talking to the one beside you, not the vendor, and he chuckles.

"Coriolanus,” he says, and it rolls off of his tongue like honey. “My name is Coriolanus Snow.”

You smile at him as you reveal your name. His hands are cold against your skin when they brush against your shoulder.

“Well, [y/n],” he starts. “Do you wanna get out of here for a little bit?”

It’s against your better judgement to go off from your family for the comfort of a stranger. But this man— Coriolanus— he’s different. Your undergarments are soaked, too, you know they are.

“My momma told me I shouldn’t be alone with strangers,” you chastise. “Promise not to hurt me, Mr. Coriolanus?”

He leans in close to you, something dark drawling in his voice.

“I’ll do my best to take care of you.”

—

You didn’t tell your family where you went. They were probably going to be occupied for the rest of the night, anyway. Your feet pad against the ground as Coriolanus leads you out to his pickup truck. It’s a bit rusty, but it’s a lot better than the vehicles you’re used to. He opens the door for you— a gentleman— and you climb into the passengers seat with little struggle. You lean back in the seat and place the stuffed bear in between the both of you as Coriolanus takes his place beside you. The ride to this mysterious destination is shorter than you expect. He turns into the woods— a little creepy, but you have a switchblade in your corset so it’s fine. When you arrive in front of an opening in front of a lake, your eyes light up.

“You can swim, right?” Coriolanus asks you.

“Of course.” You reply, opening the car door. You skip over to the edge of the water, dipping your hand in to get a feel of the temperature. It’s a bit cold, but nothing you can’t handle. You’re so distracted by the scenery that you hardly notice the sound of Coriolanus’ belt buckle until you turn around. He’s unzips his fly and begins to unbutton your shirt. A humored smile spreads across your lips.

“Skinny dipping? Really?”

“Don’t do it if you don’t want to,” he shrugs, pulling his pants down past his thighs. “Unless you’re a coward.”

You gasp, lifting yourself back up and putting your hands on your hips.

“I am not a coward, Coriolanus Snow. I’m just a lady.”

“A lady who snuck off from her momma to be with a boy she barely knows?”

He has a point with that, and you let out a frustrated noise. You try not to blush as he slips his shirt off, left in nothing but his underwear. He takes his hat off, too, and his hair is just as perfect as you imagined. You finally give in, beginning to unbotton the top of your dress.

“You’ll have to help with my corset, I hope you know. This thing is such a hassle to unlace.”

“I’d be happy to.”

He seems smug when you pull your dress over your head, your bloomers and corset being revealed to him. You pull your hair into a makeshift ponytail and turn around so he can undo the laces on your corset, and his fingers strategically remove the strings in a matter of a few minutes.

“Seems like you’ve done this a lot, Coriolanus.”

He hums. “I guess you could say that I don’t lack experience.”

You scoff, turning around and sliding the corset off of your shoulders. Coriolanus gapes at your now bare chest, your hardened nipples on full display and your chest full and inviting.

“Neither do I.”

You move towards the water, and like a puppy dog Coriolanus trails in after you. The water goes up to your chest by the time you’re done moving, and Coriolanus pulls your half nude body close to him. You giggle, feeling like a giddy child, feeling free. He presses a kiss to your neck, then another, and another. It’s like you’ve known him your whole life. His lips brush over yours, not quite touching but just enough to give you the impression of his desire.

“Can I?” He asks, sweet and gentle. You nod, your head spinning, and his mouth molds to yours perfectly. His hands wrap tightly around your waist to hold you to him, and your arms come up to grasp the locks of his hair. He breathes heavy, pushing his hips against you, and you laugh against his lips when you feel his hardness press against you.

“You’re a filthy man, Coriolanus snow.”

He rolls his eyes, his palm coming down to rub over your breast. You gasp against his mouth, your mound pressing against his bulge, and he chuckles.

“Me?” He chastises.

“Mmm..”

Your hand reaches down, not shy to a man’s body as you move past his waistband. Your hand grips his cock, your tongue coming out to lick your lips when you feel how thick he is.

“Big boy, aren’t you?” You say with a throaty breath. He groans, his face burying itself in your neck as you begin to stroke him.

Your hands are like magic, your skill magnified tenthfold because it’s been a while since Coriolanus has been touched by a woman’s hands. His hips buck against you, precum dripping out of his swollen cockhead, and when your thumb brushes over the underside of his cock he lets out a deep, gravelly moan.

“You’re so good at this,” he breathes out, his grip on your waist the only thing keeping him up. “So good, darlin’, Fuck.”

You whine against him, his praise making your knees buckle. The water around you is still cold but it’s warming now because of your adjustment and your shared body heat. You can feel a few rocks poke at the bottom of your feet, but you can’t think about that right now. Coriolanus’ pleasure is like your own, and with the way he’s feeling… you don’t know how you’re still standing.

You reach past his cock for a moment to feel up his balls, soft in your palm, and the sound he makes is so guttural it’s almost as if you have killed him. His cock kicks, you can feel it and hear the water below you splash as your hand moves faster and gets him closer. He keeps spilling precious moans from his mouth, and you think you could spend everyday with him like this, even though you’ve only known him for a few hours.

“Gonna cum…” he whimpers out, his legs shaking. “Gonna cum all over your hand, baby.”

And you’re perfectly fine with that. You bite down on his earlobe, letting out a tiny giggle.

“Cum for me, Coriolanus. Cum.”

It’s an automatic command that has the boy thrusting one final time against you before he spills inside his underwear. Thick ropes of cum squirt against your hand, sticky and hot. You let him ride out his high before you press a wet kiss to his neck. He sighs against you, and he knows his body would be nearly limp if he wasn’t so fit. After that sigh he lets out a laugh, serotonin flooding his brain as you pull your hand out of his underwear. You smile at him.

“How was that?” You ask him. He tilts his head, biting teasingly against your cheek.

“So amazing that I need you up on that shoreline, darlin’. I needa touch you, too.”

You bite your lip, nervous as you reply.

“You don’t gotta do that. I know some men don’t like to.”

Coriolanus’ brows furrow, a look of disgust crossing his features.

“No man hates eating pussy. What kind of boys have you been hangin’ around?”

You stutter, trying to come up with a response but Coriolanus just shushes you and guides you back to the shoreline with his hands. His back muscles ripple as you watch him from behind, and you wonder what a wanderer is doing with muscles like that.

When you both get back to shore he tells you to stand and wait. He comes back soon with a blanket in his hands and spreads it out on the shore. You lay down on it, trying to calm your beating heart. Coriolanus takes a spot in front of you, sitting on his knees in between your legs. He smiles at you, his thumbs moving to the waistband of your bloomers. You nod to him, and with callused hands he pulls them down past your ankles. He throws them in the sand, the smell of your pussy hitting his nostrils and making him groan. His nose scrapes against your inner thighs, his hands holding your legs open as he begins to mouth closer and closer to your pussy.

“Coryo,” you whine, the nickname making his cock twitch. “Please? Y-You don’t have to, but I.. I really, really want you to.”

“Want me to do what, honey?” He says, his mouth hovering over your dripping slit. “Eat this pretty little pussy? Is that what you want?”

You cry out, nodding your head, begging for it now, and finally Coriolanus licks a long, wet stripe up your juicy cunt with his tongue. His eyes roll back at the taste of you, and he dives into your pussy like a man starved. His tongue moves up and down before probing your hole, slipping just the tip in as his nose rubs against your clit. You desperately hump against his face, riding his strong nose and squeezing around his wet tongue. You’ve never been eaten out before, never in your life. Not even with the handful of men you’ve lain with— none have ever wanted to do this or try to. You’re practically in heaven right now.

“Nghhh..” you moan, tears beginning to pool in your eyes. You jump when his finger brushes up against your entrance, slipping it inside next to his tongue and scissoring, and fuck, you never knew this could be so good. Your legs try to close around Coriolanus’ head but he grabs one of them with his free hand and pushes it down. Your legs hitch up, a sob spilling from your throat, and the man below you can’t stop humming and making precious sounds. Slurping noises echo throughout the empty, wooded area, and you can’t help but fantasize about being caught. How hot it would be, someone walking in on this, on this hot cowboy devouring your pussy like it’s his last meal, your fingers gripping his curls like your life depends on it as he drives you closer and closer to the edge like no other man has.

Coriolanus slips another finger inside you, removing his tongue from inside you and making his way up to your puffy clit. He captures it in between his teeth, suckling with everything he has, and without warning your body is seizing up and you’re cumming, a sob escaping you, your hands yanking on his hair, your legs shaking. Coriolanus drinks up your spend, his chin dripping with your release as he pulls away and wipes his mouth on his wrist. You look down at him, and a grin spreads wide on his face. You grin back at him, the post orgasm clarity overtaking you as gets up and digs in his pants pocket. He lays down beside you, taking out a cigar and a match as he lights it up. He takes a long drag and a silence overtakes the lakeside, the only sound the light summer breeze and the crickets in the woods. You turn on your side, the moonlight reflecting off of Coriolanus’ jawline. He turns to look at you too, passing the cigar off to you. You take it, trying not to cough or embarrass yourself because this is your first time ever touching one of these things. When you clumsily inhale and exhale, you give it back to him with curiosity on your face.

“What’s a man like you doin’ around here anyway?” You ask him. “You some kind of outlaw?”

He chuckles, his fingertips grazing your thigh as he looks up at the full moon in the sky.

“If I was, would you tell on me?”

He knows you wouldn’t, but he teases you anyway. You shake your head.

“I wouldn’t. It ain’t my business.”

He sighs.

“Maybe I am. And I think that’s why I need to tell you to stay away from me from now on.” He explains. His finger grips your wrist, tickling you. “I’m bad news, sweetheart.”

“I can handle it, cowboy.”

He rolls his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips as he leans back again and closes them. He changes the subject.

“Do you need me to take you home?”

You shrug, grabbing the cigar from him.

“It can wait a few more hours. My momma’s gonna be livid when she sees me.”

And it’s true. Because when Coriolanus drops you off in his pick up truck with a promise to see you again (after your persuading), you show up at your front door barefoot, the teddy bear in your hands, and without a corset— Coriolanus had taken it from you as a souvenir, and he said he didn’t intend to give it back. In return, you had taken his hat and perched it on your head as a reminder of his touch. You give him a small thumbs up when you watch him get the hell out of dodge.

Your momma is furious when she opens that door, but you don’t regret this night one bit.

#Coriolanus snow #Coriolanus snow x reader #Coriolanus snow x fem! reader #Coriolanus snow smut #dom Coriolanus snow #cowboy! Coriolanus snow #thg #the hunger games #hunger games #the hunger games fanfic #tbosas #the ballad of songs and snakes #the ballad of songs and snakes fanfic #Tom blyth #Billy the kid #Coriolanus snow fanfic

[freedomfireflies]

Better Not Pout*

Summary: The one where Harry isn't leaving until he gets what he really came for.

You.

Word Count: 10.6k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, violence, guns, gunplay, exhibitionism (This one-shot is a bit darker, so please only read if you feel comfortable! 💞)

December 24th, 1945.

The streets of Chicago are cold. Windy. Dark. Everyone is either at home, visiting loved ones, or spending their Christmas Eve at the one place they know they’ll be welcome.

The Bees Knees – the renowned, underground speakeasy – is rather sparkling tonight. The customers continue to bustle in, some here for the booze, some here for the atmosphere and warmth, and some for the entertainment.

You.

You’re one of the establishments best performers, three nights of the week. Employed by none other than Johnny Winters himself to sing for the lost souls of Chicago as they drown their worries in a bottle of whiskey.

You quite like your job, and the people you work with. Milton, who tends the bar, always has a compliment to lend, offering you engaging small talk between sets or any new mixes he might make.

And Johnny isn’t so bad. But perhaps you’re a bit biased, seeing as he is your fiancé. But more than that, he’s one of the most powerful men in all of town. And considerably wealthy, which you suppose doesn’t exactly hurt.

But he’s also kind. Giving. And so very attentive. He spends every second he’s not working with you. Doting on you, showing you off to all of his friends. And having such a handsome man on your arm is certainly not the worst thing.

Tonight, however, Johnny is nowhere to be found. Which you don’t consider to be too terribly odd, given how much work he mentioned he’d be catching up on. 

Even still, he hates to miss your performances, and insisted that you keep a part of him with you as you take center stage tonight in the small bar.

That part happens to be in the form of a stunning red, silk dress that was gifted to you for this very occasion. It sits on your frame like it was always meant to be yours, hugging every desirable curve, and showcasing just enough skin to taunt the imagination of those in the audience.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt so beautiful, and you walk up the steps tonight with pride. Shoulders back and painted lips poised with your first song.

The few gentlemen scattered across the main floor holler when the spotlight finds you, and you offer your signature smile.

“Evening, gentleman,” you call as the pianist begins behind you. “How are you all doing tonight?”

A few whistles are offered that make you laugh, and just like that…the show begins.

Santa Claus Came in the Spring is always a favorite, and you croon the festive lyrics while the live band follows your lead.

And even though the crowd is rather dull and distracted, you have a blast. You feel comfortable in this role and in the way their eyes drink you in. Even if their attention drifts between you, their drinks, and the cigars.

In fact, you get so swept up in your act that you hardly notice the door open or the tall, lanky stranger that slinks in from the cold.

But when his head lifts, and his eyes find yours, you feel a hitch in your throat.

Unfortunately, he looks away all too quickly, pulling off his trench coat before moving along the shadows toward the far end of the bar.

He goes unnoticed by those around him, yet your attention follows him all the way to the booth that he settles in. And it stays even after he’s leaned back, gotten comfortable, and pulled a cigarette from his rather expensive looking suit pocket.

But even though your focus has drifted, you don’t miss a single beat of the song. After all, you could sing it in your sleep, and this habit serves you well as the intriguing stranger finally shifts into the light and allows you a better look at his face.

He’s…stunning. Absolutely beautiful, with his slicked back curls, sharp jaw, and pointed nose. And he’s lighting the end of a cigarette with what you can only call practiced precision before perching it between his two, crimson-colored lips. 

Rings adorn his fingers as he holds the nicotine to his mouth, inhaling a long drag before exhaling the dark smoke from his lungs.

Yet unlike the other patrons in the bar, this man seems to be rather put together. He’s not missing any teeth, his skin isn’t stained with dirt or grease, and his clothes appear to be rather new. It’s quite the upgrade from the usual appearance you’ve grown used to, and you can’t help but feel rather relaxed.

And it’s now that you realize that this striking stranger seems to be watching you much like you’re watching him. Studying your dress, your silhouette, the way you grip the microphone stand. He takes in each detail presented before him with what looks to be wonder, and your cheeks instantly grow warm.

Still, you carry on with the ballad, making your way through the final chorus and the last few notes as the band plays you out with a flourish.

The few men in front of the stage clap, and you smile gratefully as you nod your thanks and call out your appreciation.

Jingle Bells is next, and a few more people join in on the fun this time around. They clink their glasses together or belt out the lyrics a few seconds too late and wildly off-key.

Even still, it’s rather fun as you continue on with your set before finally wrapping it up with a high note that’s accompanied by a rather lively trumpet solo.

And once it’s all over, the room bursts into applause. You wave to the growing audience, taking a quick bow before gesturing toward the band. Offering them their due praise which the crowed quickly obliges.

But you notice the man in the booth keeps his expression indifferent as he continues to watch you exit the stage and make your way to the bar. He doesn’t applaud your performance or even offer a smile of encouragement. He merely takes another hit of his cigarette and throws his arm over the back of his seat. A position you imagine is intended to display dominance more than it is to find comfort.

Truth be told, you find it rather unnerving. He doesn’t seem to be here for the alcohol or the company. Perhaps he’s only here to get out of the cold or perhaps he’s avoiding his home.

Either way, his focus stays only with you, and you feel a sharp chill run down your spine as you turn to the counter and flag down Milton’s attention.

You ask for a drink and request that he tell Johnny that you’ll be waiting in his office until he arrives. 

He quickly agrees, preparing the beverage for you before jutting his chin toward the silent stranger.

“Want me to have him escorted out?” he asks, but you only smile as you shake your head.

“No need, I’m sure he’s harmless.” You take the crystal glass and tip it toward him in thanks. “Besides, the attention is rather nice.”

Milton nods his understanding and you leave it at that, taking your drink toward the hallway just off the corner of the room.

You sip leisurely as you stroll to Johnny’s office, picking up the edge of your long gown so it doesn’t drag on the floor. The sounds of the crowd grow quieter and quieter with each step you take, and soon, it’s nothing but silence.

After retrieving the key Johnny insisted you keep on you at all times, you slip open the door, and make your way inside.

It’s quite dark, given the time of night and lack of lighting. He’s only got three lamps in the room, one by the window, one on the shelf, and one on his desk.

Right beside a photo of you.

Getting your photograph taken is quite the privilege, but Johnny insisted he have a vision of you in his office at all times. And you couldn’t help but indulge him, allowing him to dress you up and place you in front of the large contraption one Sunday afternoon in spring.

It’s his favorite thing in the entire world, and he mentions it constantly. Commenting on your beauty or your ethereal outfit. You know he’s only trying to embarrass you, but it’s still rather flattering to hear.

You grin to yourself as you take a seat in the large chair behind the wooden table. Downing the rest of the contents in your glass before setting it down and taking a glance around the large space.

Vaguely, you hear footsteps approaching just outside the door. Echoing through the hall as your grin grows a bit wider. 

And as the knob turns, you expect to see the handsome face of your Johnny.

What you don’t expect, however, is the green-eyed devil and his quiet charm.

He’s followed you. You assume this immediately, and your heart leaps into your throat as he steps inside…and shuts the door behind him.

A tense silence settles between you as you slowly sit up and force in a quiet breath. “Hello,” you call quietly.

The sound of your unsteady voice seems to amuse him, the corner of his mouth curling up as the burning cigarette sits tucked between his lips. “Hello, mama.”

You feel your lashes flutter. “Can…can I help you?”

“I’m looking for your fiancé,” he says, and his voice is low. Deep. And you believe you catch just a hint of an English accent. “This is in fact his office, is it not?”

You hesitate, unsure whether or not to disclose such information to a stranger. “It…yes. Yes, but he’s not here right now. Perhaps you could come back later?”

“Later,” he repeats, almost thoughtfully as his head tilts. Then, he tsks. “See, I’m afraid later just doesn’t work for me. I need to speak with him right now. It’s quite urgent, and I’d like to finish this up and be home to my lover by midnight.”

“Oh…” You shift a bit in your seat and hope he doesn’t notice how nervous you’ve become. “Well, I would love to help, but I don’t believe I know when he’ll be in.”

He considers this for a moment before striding further into the room. Eyes tracking every tremble of your fingers and heave of your chest. “Can I tell you a secret, mama?” he murmurs, placing both hands on the desk and leaning closer.

You nod.

“Your boy Johnny owes me money,” he whispers. “And I’m here to collect.”

And now you understand. Now you know why he’s here. Because even though his tone is friendly, it can’t disguise the threat you know lingers underneath. 

“Oh,” you whisper back, and he hums.

“Exactly. And I’m a pretty reasonable guy. Decent. So, I’ll make you a deal.” He begins to smirk behind the cigarette. “If he’s not here within the next five minutes…you and I will find another way.”

The truth is, you don’t really know too much about the financial side of Johnny’s affairs and business. You know he has plenty of money, but you don’t know what he does with it. Or where he keeps it.

And if this alluring stranger seems to think you’ll be his key…you’re afraid he’ll be mistaken.

“Problem, Doll?” He seems smug, and it makes your skin crawl. “M’not scaring you, am I?”

The answer is obvious to you both, but you force yourself straighter and attempt to appear calm. “Not at all, sir. I only want to help.”

"Mm? Good girl,” he mumbles, eyes flicking down to your painted red lips. “Knew you’d behave for me.”

Your heart is hammering inside of your chest. You’re unsure what to do now. Do you ask him to leave? Do you scream for help? Do you call the police?

And where the hell is Johnny?

He should be here by now, especially after promising to wrap up his meeting early in order to catch your last performance before Christmas. He’s always here. One of your biggest fans and greatest protectors. 

The only thing you can truly think to do now is attempt to call him. You figure the police won’t get here in time, but at least if this gentleman can be assured that Johnny is on his way, he won’t be as inclined to act rashly.

However, the moment your fingers lift from the desk in order to reach for the phone, the stranger reaches for something, too.

In a matter of seconds, he’s wrapping his hand around the barrel of a gun, pulling it from his back pocket, and aiming it straight at your head. Cocking it loudly as you gasp and withdraw your arm as quickly as possible.

“What are you doin’, hm, mama?” There’s a haughty condescension in his sneer, laced with just the faintest disappointment. “Thought you were gonna be good.”

“I…I was just going to call him,” you stammer. “I know you’re in a hurry.”

The stranger studies you now, that familiar smirk beginning to fade as his attention flicks across your face. Perhaps he suspects a lie or perhaps he merely doesn’t trust you, but truth be told, you know better than to try and pull a fast one on him. 

Finally, he plucks his cigarette from between his lips before tossing it to the floor and nodding at you. “Yeah? Go on, then,” he instructs, reposition the barrel at your chest. “Call your little pretty boy. Tell him he’s got a visitor.”

With a racing pulse, you once again slowly reach for the telephone, eyeing the gun carefully as you scoot closer.

You’re careful not to make any sudden moments. Hesitant to even look at him for fear of upsetting him, but your timid demeanor only entertains him further.

He simply chuckles as he slowly makes his way over to your side of the desk. Snatching up the phone just before you can reach for it and handing it to you almost cockily.

Curious, you glance up. That soft green in his eye is almost alluring, even despite the circumstance. Still, he reeks of nicotine and expensive cologne, and you lean back in an attempt to put as much space between you as you can.

He smiles. “I’m gonna watch you dial,” he tells you calmly. “Make sure you keep your word. Okay, Doll?”

Posed like a question, although you both know you don’t exactly have a choice. And you'd likely point this out if you were just a touch braver, but nevertheless, you nod. Agreeing to his terms as you take the phone and begin to dial.

As the seconds go by, you feel him watching you closely while the line rings. Leaving you to desperately await the sound of your sweet Johnny’s voice. A sound you’ve never needed more than in this moment.

Yet his voice never comes, and your heart sinks to the cold floor blow as you return the phone to the desk.

“He…he must already be on his way,” you murmur, and the man hums.

“You think so?”

You nod weakly.

He takes a seat on the edge of the desk, just inches from your arm before leaning closer. “How much are you willing to bet, hm?” His brow raises. “How sure are you that your precious fiancé will actually save you tonight?”

You feel trapped by him now. The closer he moves, the faster your heart pounds. You have nowhere to run, no personal space to disappear into. 

But you only have to hold on for just a little longer. Johnny will come for you. He always does.

“Incredibly sure,” you respond, ignoring the slight waver in your voice. “He said he would be, so he will.”

The man considers this before clicking his tongue. “All right. Then how about I make you another deal, yeah? For every minute he’s late, and for every minute he leaves you here unattended…I’ll put an extra bullet through his head.”

A sharp chill runs down your spine, skin growing hot and prickly, but you force your expression to remain unfazed. “And why would you do that if you need him so badly?”

The gentleman laughs now. A sound that would almost be charming if he weren’t so vile. “Because I don’t need your precious Johnny,” he answers calmly. “I just need what’s in his safe.”

And despite the danger you’re in and despite your better judgment, your features scrunch into a grimace as you scoff, “Oh, how pathetic.”

Your reaction loosens his smile.

“Truly, how incredibly pathetic to come all the way down here at this time of night – and on Christmas Eve – just to break into his safe,” you huff. “Honestly. He won’t give you a damn thing. And you have absolutely no business to come storming in here and—”

You don’t get the chance to finish the rest of your furious scolding before he’s suddenly standing to his feet and wrapping his fingers around your arm.

Instantly, you’re yanked from your chair and shoved against the bookcase just behind you. Hard enough to knock the wind from your lungs as he traps you there, leaning in so close, his nose nearly brushes your own. 

“I’d be careful how you fucking speak to me, mama,” he seethes quietly, yet even still, there’s just an air of pleasure. “Because you might not get the chance to do it again.”

He’s desperate to scare you. Desperate to see you cry, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction.

Instead, you suck in a sharp breath, and do the one thing you can think to do:

You spit.

The collection of saliva just misses his eye, landing on his cheek with a rather wet splat until the amusement fades and fury takes its place.

His fingers leave your arm and find your throat, curling around the delicate skin and forcing your head up as he begins to chuckle darkly.

“So, that’s how you wanna play, hm, Doll?” Another tsk. “You wanna be bad? Wanna test my fucking patience?”

You squirm a bit in his hold, yet for some reason, you don’t feel as frightened as you did before. Because there’s this look in his eye – this hunger. And even though his grip is tight…you feel oddly safe.

“Better find a way to keep this pretty little mouth shut,” he says next, head cocking to the left almost curiously. “Or I’ll have to shut it for you.” 

His attention returns to your mouth, fingers slowly slipping up toward your chin until he can brush is thumb over the painted fibers of your lips.

Just enough to taunt you yet startle you all in the same second. 

“Maybe,” you finally breathe before jerking your head away from his cruel touch. “If you knew how.”

The cocky grin widens as his hand immediately returns to your neck. “Still disobeying me, hm?” he nearly purrs. “Guess I could always just squeeze this sweet, little throat to keep you quiet, yeah? Feel your pretty pulse beneath my fingertips. Feel the life drain from your body…watch the light go out in your eyes.”

You take in a strained inhale, and he makes a sound that almost sounds like a groan.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, moving in just a bit closer until his lips are ghosting across yours. “Or maybe…I could put my gun in your mouth. See how chatty you are then, yeah, mama?”

Your chest heaves anxiously, but you find just enough confidence to whisper, “But without your gun, how will everyone know what a tiny cock you have?”

And you’re so proud of yourself. So endlessly pleased with the way you’ve managed to make his smug expression waver, even if he keeps his smirk in place.

“Oh, you think that’s funny,” he snorts as you attempt to bite back a laugh. “Well, you wanna know what I think is funny? I think it’s funny that you said Johnny would be here…and he’s not.”

“He will be,” you retort, a bit firmer. “He will.”

“See…you keep saying that,” he muses, placing one hand on the bookshelf beside your head. Truly trapping you beneath him. “And yet…your noble fiancé still isn’t here to save you.”

You tilt your head back in an attempt to appear stronger, but it doesn’t seem to fool him. 

“Are you afraid?” he whispers, chest brushing against yours. “Are you afraid your Johnny won’t be able to keep you safe from the bad man?”

It’s almost hostile, the way he goads you. And yet you can hear just the slightest concern beneath his question.

“Or maybe you’re afraid he can’t pay up,” he continues. “Maybe you’re afraid he’ll have to find another way.”

Suddenly, the grip on your throat constricts. Recapturing your attention.

“Are you gonna be my other way, mama?” he exhales. “You gonna be my consolation prize?”

You feel dizzy. The room is spinning. And you aren’t sure if that’s because of the hold on your neck or the way he’s speaking to you. 

However, before you can decide if you’re actually intrigued by his intimidation tactics…the sound of footsteps echo outside through the hall.

Johnny.

It has to be him. You almost need it to be him, and your shoulders unwind as the man glances toward the closed door curiously before finally leaning back.

Then, he grabs onto your arm for a second time, and flings you back toward the chair. Shoving you down and keeping you still.

“You’re gonna sit here and you’re gonna keep your fucking mouth shut,” he hisses softly right as the door swings open. “And then maybe…I just might reward you.”

But you don’t even mind this malicious threat because then you see him. Your fiancé, smiling brightly as his eyes find you before they flick to the man to your right.

For a moment, he seems surprised, seemingly assessing your position and the situation before his grin widens. 

“Ah, Mr. Styles,” he calls as he strides into the room, quickly removing his hat and coat. “What a pleasant surprise. Did we have a meeting tonight?”

He seems relaxed. Almost too relaxed, as though he doesn’t view this man as a threat, and you aren’t sure whether to feel relieved or wildly confused. You hadn’t exactly expected him to grab the mysterious guest by the collar and throw him out the window, but you also didn’t expect him to welcome him with open arms. 

A strange man is alone with his future wife, in his office, in the middle of the night, and that doesn’t seem to concern him even a little?

Perhaps Johnny is far too friendly for his own good.

The gentleman, in turn, straightens up while subtly slipping the gun behind his back. Tucking it into his belt just out of view before Johnny can catch it. “Not quite,” he says coolly. “I’m here to discuss a bit of unfinished business.”

Your heart sinks, yet Johnny merely nods. “Ah, I see. Well, is there any way this can wait until after Christmas? It’s been a long night, and I’d like to be getting the lovely lady home.”

Now, both of their stares turn to you, and eagerly, you begin to rise from the chair. Grateful for the opportunity to leave this unsettling stranger behind.

Yet before you can even find your footing, the man’s hand is coming down in a firm smack on your shoulder to force you back down.

“I’m afraid the lovely lady isn’t going anywhere,” he replies, and you catch Johnny’s expression fall. “And neither are you. Have a seat.”

Johnny begins to frown. “Look, Harry, whatever business we might have, I’m sure it can—”

“I said, have…a seat,” the man – Harry – repeats a bit brasher. “Yeah? Or things will get a lot worse for your darling fiancé.”

Johnny hesitates, eyes flicking to yours. But he must notice the panicked look you wear because he finally sighs and does as instructed. Taking a seat in the chair just in front of the desk before glancing toward Harry.

Harry nods, almost proudly. “There you go. S’not so hard, is it?”

Johnny’s figure slumps but his lips purse together. “What do you want?”

“Oh, I just want to talk,” Harry says, his smirk returning. “And lucky for you, your schedule just cleared up.”

“Harry—” Johnny begins, leaning closer as though getting ready to stand.

But instantly, Harry is reaching back behind him for the gun, pulling it free, and aiming the barrel straight at his head.

Johnny quickly leans back, eyeing the weapon hesitantly while you gasp and glance up at the stranger pleadingly.

Harry only looks at Johnny. “See, I’m running out of fucking patience. Eight goddamn months I’ve had to listen to you go on and on about this special fucking shipment you got. And now…it’s time to collect.”

Your sweet fiancé understands now. Realizes why this man is here and how real the threat is, and glances back at you almost apologetically.

You merely mouth, “It’s okay.”

Johnny’s eyes flick back to the gun. “I’d be careful waving that thing around. Somebody might get hurt.”

The man merely hums. “Oh, I’m fucking counting on it.”

Now, the office grows quiet. A tense, charged sort of energy that filters between the three of you as Harry begins to walk around the desk.

“So,” he continues, grabbing onto the other free chair in order to spin it around and sit in a straddle, “where’s the safe, Johnny?”

Johnny’s brow raises, but his Adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do. Down at the club, you said you just got a brand new, fancy safe to hold everything from your latest shipment. Practically bragged about it to the whole goddamn bar, yeah? So…where is it?”

With piqued interest, you look between the two men curiously as you await Johnny’s answer. You’ve never really been sure where he gets all his money. You assumed most of it came from the bar and alcohol sales, so you’re rather stumped by what sort of shipment they might be referring to.

However, Johnny isn’t so quick to divulge all his secrets. “And what is it you’re expecting to get out of my safe, Mr. Styles?”

There’s another heavy pause as Harry rests his arms over the back of the seat and whispers, “Everything.”

Instantly, Johnny scoffs. “You think you can storm into my office on Christmas Eve and threaten my fiancé? Threaten me? That you’re entitled to anything you damn well please?” A bitter scoff as he leans back. “You’ll be arrested before morning, and you’ll never see a red fucking cent.”

 His retort dangles between them for only a moment as a breath catches in your throat. Pulse racing as you watch the stranger’s reaction closely.

Yet the mystery man doesn’t so much as flinch as he suddenly repositions the gun into the air, aims it just to the left of Johnny’s head, and fires.

The sound is deafening, much like your sharp, shrill shriek as the bullet flies through the air – just missing Johnny’s ear – and lodges into the wall behind him.

Johnny immediately flinches, eyes screwing shut and muscles recoiling before he seems to realize that he remains unharmed.

And once he does, he takes a deep breath, and begins to smirk. “You missed.”

“Did I?” Harry runs his tongue over his bottom lip before re-cocking the gun. “No, see…I never fucking miss. That was your first warning.” 

Johnny simply snorts. “Yeah? Well, eat my shit.”

Things move quickly from there.

Harry is instantly on his feet, tossing the chair aside rather angrily before he’s turning to you once more. And you don’t even have a moment to think before you’re being yanked from the seat for a second time and immediately tugged to his chest as he presses the barrel of the gun into the side of your temple. 

“Where’s the fucking safe, Johnny?” he says again, and you notice Johnny’s face pale.

“Styles,” Johnny murmurs, “you don’t have to do this—”

“The safe,” he seethes. “Where is it? Or do you need a little incentive, huh? Need to see her pretty little brains all over your goddamn floor? Is that what it’s gonna take?”

Poor Johnny doesn’t know what to do. He looks from the gun, to your face, to the arm keeping you hostage.

And you almost feel bad for him, yet you aren’t even afforded the chance for empathy before Harry furiously growls and shoves you in Johnny’s direction.

You stumble across the wooden floor until Johnny can quickly take you into his embrace, keeping you safe from the bad man as you begin to sniffle.

“My love,” he whispers, tightening his hold on your trembling frame while turning you away as if to protect you. “It’s gonna be all right, I promise.”

With a quick nod and a hiccup, you look up and slip your hands around his neck for comfort. “I know.”

He smiles.

It’s Harry’s disgusted sneer that brings you attention back. “Fucking pathetic. Really, mama? This is who you choose to save you?”

Your features fall ever-so-slightly while Johnny begins to pull you behind him, shielding you from the aggravated aggressor. “If you need money so badly, there are plenty of other ways.”

“It’s not just about money,” Harry retorts calmly. “It’s about your money. Yeah? So where’s the fucking safe.”

“None of your goddamn business—”

The reply no sooner leaves his mouth before there’s another gunshot fired into the air. 

One of the paintings on the wall falls with a crack and you jump almost two feet into the air, nails scratching down Johnny’s nice shirt.

“Johnny,” you whisper faintly, refusing to let this go on any longer. “Johnny, tell him. Tell him, please. I don’t care about the money; I don’t care about any of it. I just want you. I love you, and I can’t lose you.”

The office falls silent as you request hangs in the air, and you feel Johnny take in a deep breath.

“Yeah, Johnny,” Harry adds in a condescending murmur. “She loves you. Don’t make her watch you die. It’d be such a shameful waste of her tears.”

Johnny looks to you, and your expression softens. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “It’s okay, I promise.”

Finally, he sighs. “Under the desk.”

Harry’s head whips toward the large table curiously before he frowns. “Where?” he murmurs before repositioning the gun at Johnny’s chest. “I promise you don’t wanna lie to me.”

However, Johnny’s indifferent expression remains. “Under the desk,” he repeats while thrusting his chin toward the massive piece of furniture. 

And now Harry seems to understand, although it does little to relax him as he suddenly reaches for you again and yanks you from your lovers’ arms.

“Show me,” he hisses, keeping you hostage again while ushering Johnny forward with the barrel of the weapon. “And don’t be dense.”

And Johnny can do nothing but obey, seemingly defeated while sending you one last remorseful look. Finally moving to lift the desk and pull it back.

The sound of wood scraping against wood is heavy, and it takes him quite a while to relocate the table beneath the window by himself. 

But once it’s out of the way, you notice a particular part of the flooring juts out. The rotten board almost askew.

You and Harry lean closer, both magnetized by intrigue as he bends down in order to wrench the board up, revealing the hollow hiding place underneath.

And there you find it. The large, black box with a gold dial in the middle.

He glances up toward Harry, perhaps looking for permission – which Harry quickly gives him – before reaching down to put in the correct combination.

And after a couple seconds of clicking and turning…the door swings open.

Truth be told, you were hoping to find a secret gun that might help you out of this situation, but it seems there are no weapons to be found as Harry shoves you back in order to get a better look.

He no longer seems concerned about Johnny or the possibility that he might attempt to attack because Johnny seems to have given up. 

All your dejected fiancé does is straighten up and motion you back to him, watching Harry bend over and reach inside the safe almost uninterestedly. 

Your heart aches for him, yet you can’t help feeling relieved. You’re a few steps closer to this wretched night being over, and perhaps once Harry has what he came for, you’ll be able to leave.

“Are you all right?” Johnny whispers to you now as Harry begins to unload the contents in the floor. 

You nod quickly, clinging to his strong frame as though you’re scared you might be taken again. “Yes, I’m all right. Are you?”

“I will be once I know you’re safe,” he says, and your heart sinks.

Once everything inside the safe has been shoved into a bag, Harry turns to the two of you. “That was a good start, Winters. Now where’s the rest of it?”

Johnny frowns. “I don’t know what you mean. Everything I have is in there.”

But Harry only tsks as he sets the items down and begins to stride closer, making you curl even further into Johnny’s embrace. “Come on, now,” he mumbles almost tauntingly. “You know what I really want. And you know that you’re gonna fucking tell me. Isn’t that right, mama?”

He looks to you for only a moment as you swallow. 

Johnny begins to seethe. “No. No, you can have everything else, but you won’t touch that.”

“Johnny,” you try, unnerved by the sudden look of warning in Harry’s eye. “Johnny, please…just give it to him. Whatever it is, I don’t care, just…just make him leave.”

“Smart girl,” Harry adds. “Come on, Johnny boy, your darling fiancé is scared. Don’t you wanna save her?”

Your lover simply grows stiff, eyes narrowing at the faux sincerity in the stranger’s voice.

“Johnny,” you mumble again. “Johnny, please, he’s right. I’m scared and I don’t care about what you have or what you don’t have. I just want you. And I want him to go away.”

Still, Johnny wrestles with his decision. With the choice he’s being forced to make, and as the seconds go by, Harry’s patience reaches its limit.

He grabs for you – again. Forcing the weapon under your jaw this time around as Johnny’s muscles tense and his fingers curl into his fist.

“God, look at him,” Harry whispers to you now, lips ghosting up the shell of your ear while forcing your eyes on your fiancé. “Fucking look at your pathetic excuse for a man.”

You attempt to remain indifferent – appear unafraid – but he sees right through you.

“D’you really think he cares about you, Doll?” he murmurs. “Do you really think he’ll choose your life over his own?”

“Let her go,” Johnny barks, yet it only forces the barrel even further into your skin.

Your chin is tilted up, a sharp inhale getting caught in your throat until Harry begins to chuckle.

“How about this,” he says. “I’ll let you choose, mama. I’ll let you decide if he gets to watch me kill you…or if he gets to watch me take you. All for myself.”

“Fucking piece of shit—” Johnny hisses, but Harry simply tsks.

“So, what do you say? What’ll it be? Either way, I’ll have him on his goddamn knees by the end of the night. And then we all win, yeah?”

“Enough,” Johnny yells, and a strangled silence splits the air. “Fine. Fine, I’ll tell you. Just let her go.”

Harry’s arm begins to lower but not very far. “Once it’s in my hand, she’s all yours.”

And you want to resent these men for treating you like you’re some sort of object to be traded, yet you’d happily be given back to your lover if it meant you could leave this nightmare behind.

No matter the cost.

Johnny rolls his shoulders back and flicks his unrelenting stare back to his desk. “There. The picture.”

You feel your eyebrows raise while Harry slowly begins to loosen his hold on you.

“Get it,” he instructs, and with an aggravated sigh, Johnny obliges.

He retrieves the golden frame from the table before pulling open the back and removing the picture inside.

The picture of you.

It almost breaks your heart, the look on his face. Like he’s absolutely gutted to be defiling this memory of you both, and you ache to comfort him.

Once the photo has been plucked from the glass, you catch the faintest sparkle in the soft light of the moon, and hear yourself gasp.

There, sitting snug inside the small frame, is the biggest fucking diamond you’ve ever seen.

It’s…stunning. The most gorgeous jewel you’ve ever been privileged to lay eyes on, surrounded by what you can only assume to be hundreds of tinier diamonds and rubies arranged in a delicate but intricate pattern. 

Altogether creating the most breathtaking necklace you’ve ever seen.

It has to be worth hundreds of dollars – thousands, in fact – and Harry reaches over to take it from the frame with the biggest Cheshire-like grin you’ve ever seen.

This is what he came for.

“You have it, all right? You have it, now go,” Johnny calls, already attempting to reach for you. “You got what you want.”

With an agreeable hum, Harry studies the necklace a moment longer before finally looking to you. “You’re right. We did, didn’t we?”

You both smile.

Instantly, you raise the gun that Harry had discreetly and secretly slipped into your hand only moments ago and aim it at Johnny’s chest.

Three.

Johnny’s expression shifts, eyes widening as he begins to piece together what’s really going on. Why Harry looks so proud and why you look so relieved.

Two.

His lips part. Ready to speak to you, whisper your name, ask for an explanation. And a part of you can’t help but wonder if you’ll feel any remorse for the deception you’ve put him through these past few months.

But as you stare at him now…you feel nothing but liberation.

One.

The third and final gunshot echoes through the air. Louder and far more permanent. Resolute.

Johnny stumbles back, unable to catch himself before he goes tumbling to the ground. A dark red stain expanding like watercolor across his chest, ruining the clean white shirt underneath.

You’d bought him that shirt.

And as the look of life slowly leaves his eye, you feel your muscles unwind, and your shoulders droop.

It’s over.

Harry’s got his arms around you before you can even release the deep breath you’ve been holding onto for so long. 

“Oh, good fucking girl,” he nearly groans, pressing his lips to yours for the first time in months as you sling your arms around his neck. “Fucking hell, I missed you, mama.”

If Harry had had it his way, Johnny would have been dead months ago. He never liked this plan – not because he thought you couldn’t handle it, but because the idea of going without you for so long nearly killed him.

But it was the only way to gain Johnny’s trust. And to find his true weakness. He never would have given you the location of the safe or the necklace if you’d simply held him at gunpoint from the get-go.

No, he needed a reason to cave, a reason to put his possessions on the line in order to save something else he truly cared about.

And that’s where you came in.

Sure, it was hard to be without Harry, but you knew it had to be done. Getting these items would set you up for years. You’d never have to work in sleazy bars again. You could simply be with him…forever.

And perhaps pretending to be a stranger to him and appear frightened of his intentions wasn’t quite necessary, but you happen to like the roleplaying aspect. 

The way he threatened your life as though he wouldn’t do everything in his power to protect it. The way he taunted you, teased you, scared you…when he knew deep down how much you fucking loved it.

You can still feel his fingers around your neck. The pressure of his hand against your throat, holding you still, keeping you close. You hadn’t felt it in months and a part of you wanted to keep the game going for just a bit longer if it meant you could have him.

You weren’t able to run into his arms and kiss him the way you can now and it’s…perfect. Absolutely perfect.

“Did he hurt you?” he whispers, leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw. “Did he fucking touch you—”

“No,” you’re quick to assure him. “No, never. He wanted to, but I never let him.”

“Good.” He takes hold of your hip and gives it a firm squeeze. “Good girl, knew you’d be on your best behavior, yeah?”

You grin. “Of course. Only ever thought about you.”

“Is that right, doll?”

“Mhm.” You tuck your lip between your teeth and nuzzle your nose to his. “How could it ever be him?”

His lashes flutter, and you can see the edges of his frayed sanity coming loose. He’s had to pretend for far too long, and you don’t imagine he can do it much longer.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, nearly clawing at your dress. “Then, maybe I’ll—”

“What…did you do?”

The sound of Milton’s confusion pulls you apart instantly. He’s standing in the doorway, eyes wide, expression horrified. Looking from his boss, to you, to Harry, and back.

He sees the necklace on the desk, sees the gun in your hand, sees the bag of gold and cash lying at Harry’s feet.

He understands, and your heart almost sinks. Milton was one of the good ones.

Quickly, Harry takes the weapon from you and points it in Milton’s direction.

Milton only leans back with a soft inhale while you turn to your lover and whisper, “No. No, not him.”

Harry’s pursed lips and furrowed brows never waver. “What?”

“Not him,” you repeat, as firmly as you can.

And he hesitates for only a moment before dropping the weapon and nodding his chin at you. “Grab the bag and go out the window.”

You nod your understanding before stealing one last glance at the bartender by the door.

He’s heartbroken and terrified…but his features grow softer as he finally mumbles, “…five minutes. I’ll give you five minutes.”

And you can’t help but smile.

You rush to grab what you came for and hurry to the window, with Harry right behind you. You don’t have a lot of time. Once Milton makes the call to the police, you’ll need to be far enough away that they can’t find you.

You know they’ll be looking. Know they won’t stop until they find you both – after all, they’ve been searching for you for years.

But you don’t mind a life that’s on the run, as long as it’s with him. 

And the pleased smile he offers you now only confirms this.

You quickly lift the hem of your dress and begin over the ledge, with Harry right beside you to help. He takes your hand for support, keeping you steady until you can safely drop to the ground outside before he’s following suit.

The moment his feet hit the ground, you both run. The Chicago air is cold – frigid. You don’t have enough clothes to truly cover you and your feet are sore from having to wear these outrageous shoes all night.

But you somehow feel…alive. Invigorated and so very free. You have everything you’ve ever wanted.

You have him.

You both slip along the shadows as you make your way through town, leaving the speakeasy and Johnny Winters behind. After a minute or two, you hear the sirens in the distance, and the stakes are raised. They grow louder and louder the closer they get, and it’s then that Harry recaptures your hand and tugs you into a dark alleyway for cover.

This is where you stay until the cars have zipped down the street and proceeded without you. They don’t even think to look for you here and you’re rather impressed with your lover’s quick thinking.

Harry, however, isn’t as quick to revel in the success. Continuingly peeking around the corner in order to watch for anything unusual. Ignoring your amused laughter and giddy grin of accomplishment.

He’s on edge. Alert. Ready to run again if need be, and while you rather admire his practiced precision, you hope to put it to better use. 

You drop the bag near the wall and make your way for him, palms quickly finding his cheeks in order to pull his attention to you.

He grunts. “What?”

But you don’t answer with words. You answer with a kiss. A kiss that makes your stomach flip and your mind grow fuzzy.

And this seems to be explanation enough as he groans with approval and wraps his arms around your middle to keep you against his chest. Nipping and licking at you as though his life depends on it.

Perhaps it does.

He shoves you back against the brick after only a few seconds, finding the leverage he needs in order to deepen the kiss and truly claim you. In a way he’d been desperate to the moment he saw you sitting in that office in such a beautiful dress.

“Trying to distract me, hm?” he murmurs, and you can’t help but smile. “Yeah? Or did you just need me that badly?”

He spins you around, pressing your cheek to the cold blocks of clay before dancing his fingers down your spine. Indulging in you.

It makes your insides twist.

You feel the hem of your dress gather in his fist as he finally gets a proper look at what he’s been missing for months. And the sound he makes goes straight to your cunt.

“You filthy fucking thing,” he whispers, rather delightedly while moving in to trail his mouth along your neck. “Look at you. Look at how perfect you are.”

His fingers find your pussy, stroking over your covered slit once or twice before plucking the covering from your hips and dragging it down your thighs. 

“Just dripping for me, yeah? All fucking night.” He drags his palm up the inside of your leg. “Power makes you weak, doesn’t it, mama?”

You nod desperately, unable to answer with words.

But he understands, smirking to himself rather deviously before his hands are tangling in your hair in order to yank your head back. Just to hear you choke on a whine. “I’ve waited months for this. Yeah? M’gonna take my time with you…gonna make it worth it.”

And you don’t doubt that you will.

You nod again as the sound of his leather belt coming undone echoes between your ears. You’re trembling with anticipation, body aching for the feel of his cock. It’s been far too long, and you’ve nearly withered away without him.

You imagine he feels about the same, already fisting himself in one hand and readjusting your dress in the other. You hear him mumble something under his breath – you’re not quite sure what. But you suppose it doesn’t matter. He can say whatever he likes as long as he gives you what you need. 

Normally, he’d take his time. He loves to make a show out of ruining you, but there’s no chance for that tonight. No patience. So, he kicks your feet apart, grabs your hip, and eases himself in all before you can take a breath.

And it’s perfect. Exactly the way you remember. The stretch, the scratch, the desperation. Nobody feels the way he does, and you both know it.

He’s still for a moment, merely pushing himself in and watching your pussy swallow him whole. As if so overcome by the sensation that he can’t do much else. As if losing control over his own body.

So, you push against his chest to remind him you’re here while your fingers reach back for his hair in order to tug it softly.

You feel him smile against your cheek. “All fucking night,” he whispers the moment he’s buried to the hilt. “Knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you?”

You grin as well. You’re rather happy he noticed.

“Spitting in my fucking face,” he continues. “Challenging me. Acting like a fucking brat. S’all cause you were so fucking needy for me, wasn’t it, mama?”

“Maybe,” you can’t help but retort. “Maybe I knew you’d like it.”

He laughs now. A low, deep, sadistic sound from the back of his throat. Using his hold on your scalp to force your head into his shoulder. “Is that right, hm?”

You only nod.”

“Yeah? Then say it,” he hisses. “Tell me you missed me. Tell me you missed my cock. That nobody fucks you like I do—”

He accompanies this request with his first, sharp thrust. Pulling back only to drive himself in so hard, the air is nearly knocked from your lungs.

“Because they can’t, can they?” he coos, yet it’s angry. Fingers moving from your hair to your neck. Squeezing until you gasp. “Nobody knows how to treat this little pussy like I do. Do they?”

You fall mute. Going limp in his hold as the pleasure begins to build.

“You love it when I fuck you like this.” His nose presses to your cheek as he breathes, your delicate throat a plaything in his touch. “Love it when I kill for you. Love it when I make you mine—”

You gasp at the ecstasy, hardly able to hear him, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You love me,” he murmurs, and you just about disappear into his embrace.

“I do,” you gasp, almost too loudly. “I do, Harry, please—"

“Quiet,” he hisses, glancing now toward the street in order to make sure the police haven’t found their way to you. “You know better than that. You’ll take me and you’ll do it quietly. Understood?”

Your only response is to whimper pitifully while your nails scratch down the brick walls of the alley.

In turn, he grasps onto your jaw, forcing your head to the side until your eyes can meet. “I said, is that fucking understood?”

“I thought you said to be quiet,” you can’t help but retort, and he hums.

“Oh, is that how you wanna play it?” He releases your throat only to take hold of your hips once more and spin you around between thrusts. Quickly returning to his place between your thighs before lifting one of your legs and hiking it around his waist.

“What…” you begin, chest heaving as the tip of his cock drags down your clit. “What are you—” 

“Had to see you,” is his gritted response. “Had to see this pretty, bratty face as I ruined you.”

You imagine you’d smile if you weren’t so close to coming apart, but he understands. Pressing his forehead to yours before reaching up toward the top of your dress and ripping the fabric down to reveal your chest. 

You can tell he’s been wanting to do this all night. Know he’s been ogling your tits from behind the expensive fabric since the moment he walked in, and truth be told, that’s the real reason you wore it. 

Not because Johnny loves you in red.

But because Harry deserved to look at something pretty.

The cold air meets your skin with an unforgiving fervor, and you squirm against the brick as Harry’s eyes fall to the tattered fabric lying so pathetically on your chest.

Instantly, his head dips, mouth leaving open and sloppy kisses to the beautiful pair before him. Tongue stroking the hardened nipples rather respectfully, all things considered.

In turn, you run a hand through his dark curls as he does this to you. As you watch him take whatever he wants. Feeling the way his hair moves like butter between your fingers. The way he hums against you. The way his lashes flutter.

You’ve missed this.

Then, your grip tightens, and you yank his head up until his lips can meet yours. And you take. Take the taste of him, the taste of you, and the taste of victory.

His palm comes up to rest against the wall beside your head. Steadying himself as he works to find that perfect rhythm again. Over and over and over.

And all you can do is move your anxious kisses to his throat as he fucks into you. Whispering, “Nobody, baby. Nobody feels like you do. Nobody.”

Your fingers trail down his strong back, feeling each muscle that dips and flexes as he moves. The way he grunts when you scratch your nails down his spine. The way he consumes you and succumbs to you all at once.

Johnny was beautiful, but Harry is a beast. You’ve never seen a man like this before – never felt a man like this before. Every curve of his body is ethereal. Every detail, every touch.

Your touch continues to move lower and lower down his strong frame until you find something at the base of his spine.

And it makes you grin.

You slip it from his belt with ease, feeling the way it sits firmly in your hand as though it were made for it.

Harry doesn’t seem to notice. Or perhaps he just doesn’t care with the way he’s so deep into you. Emotionally, physically.

But he’s quickly pulled from his pleasured trance the moment he feels the familiar, cool touch of his gun sweeping across his jaw.

He stills. Straightening up ever-so-slightly, eyes finding yours.

But you’re too busy gazing at the barrel that dances across that beautiful face. 

After all, he got to have his fun this evening.

Now it’s your turn.

You bring it to a stop just under his chin, tilting his head up exactly the way he’d done to you earlier as he releases a deep breath.

“Mama…” he warns, but you only hum.

This isn’t the first time this deadly weapon has made this an unofficial threesome, but it is certainly the first time you’ve been the one to wield it.

You hate guns. You do. But you love Harry’s. The way he holds it. The way he handles it. The way he uses great care and great power.

Because there’s something about seeing him with it. Seeing the way he controls it, controls the room. The way he holds someone’s life in the palm of his hand…

Perhaps you should be concerned by how enamored you are by it. By him.

But not tonight. Tonight, you simply enjoy.

And from the look in his eye, he seems to be enjoying it, too.

After all, you know he loved watching you use it on Johnny. Know he almost had you right then and there, on Johnny’s desk, before the mission was even through.

He’s endlessly pleased with you, and you can’t help but use this to your advantage.

So, with the weapon still taut to his clenched jaw, you lean forward and ghost your lips over his. “What’s the matter, Daddy? Does power make you weak?”

The twitch of his cock is answer enough.

You go in for the kill. With your fingers dancing over the trigger button, you lean back and dip down before dragging your tongue up the length of the barrel.

His eyes nearly roll back, and the sound that leaves his chest is euphoric. You think you might just kill him.

Because you’re slow. Meticulous. Licking every inch of the weapon until you finally reach the tip still tucked just beneath his chin.

Then…you kiss him.

And he’s so overwhelmed that he growls into your mouth, no longer threatened by the gun at his throat. Instead grabbing onto the back of your neck in order to squeeze it tight and keep you close. Devour you the way he’s been so frantic to.

You don’t even realize that you’ve begun to lower the gun until you feel it snatched from your grasp.

And pressed tightly to your clit.

The cold surface of the weapon against the warmest part of your body has you arching your back with a whimper. He has the upper hand once more, and he’s certainly not about to waste it. Mouth curling up into a satisfied, smug grin at the way your expression has gone hazy.

You’ve never looked at another man the way you look at him and he knows it.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks softly, adding just enough pressure to make you whine. “All fucking night? The moment you saw me? Saw my gun? Wanted me to fuck you with it?”

Your nails meet your chest, scratching down the frigid skin in a desperate attempt to find something to ground you.

His only response is to drag the tip of the weapon down just a bit further. Until he can watch it glisten in you.

“Fucking looking at you,” he muses beneath a strained exhale, enamored by the way you subconsciously begin to grind on it. “So desperate to feel it. To be fucked by it. And what if I do, hm? What if I fuck you with my gun right here in this alleyway?”

You only whisper his name and an airy, “Please…”

“I thought about it,” he continues quietly, nose brushing yours as he slips the soaked barrel back up your cunt. “Thought about ripping off this pathetic little dress and fucking you right in front of your precious fiancé.”

You wish he had.

“You’d have liked that, wouldn’t you, mama?” His fingers drum against the handle. “Yeah? I know you would. Would have loved to watch him watch me.”

And he’s not wrong. He hardly ever is when it comes to your darkest fantasies, and it’s just one of the many reasons why you love him.

“But I had to wait,” he tells you now, finally pulling the gun away from your dripping clit until you nearly crumple to the cold concrete below. “Because after all this time…I’m the only thing that gets to fill you tonight, yeah?”

You simply nod again as he brings the gun back to your mouth with a proud grin.

And you know exactly what he wants, swiping your tongue all along the barrel and tasting every drop, every indication of your need for him. Swallowing it all as he watches proudly.

The moment you’re finished, he takes the gun and returns it to his pocket, tucking it away safely. Because he’s right again, and you need to feel him far more than you’ve ever needed anything else.

So, you grasp onto his face and bring his lips to yours, allowing him to pick up right where he left off.

Because as much as you love the power…you love being weak for him more.

At least in moments like this.

He fills you and fucks you until you’re dizzy. Until you can taste the pleasure and the unraveling. 

You make a show of it. A way to apologize for all the time lost. Trailing the tips of your fingers along your own chest and down your sternum until you notice you have his attention.

He watches you take your tit into your palm before you’re tweaking the hardened nipple with a soft whine. Allowing your head to drop back into the wall while you do it again and again.

And he’s an angry sort of infatuated. Groaning almost pitifully before kissing you again and easily swatting your hand away in order to do it himself.

But that’s still not enough. So, you play your ace, and move your touch down to your clit in order to pinch it exactly the way he likes.

And it’s beautiful. The most exhilarating feeling, and this is what sends him over. The feel of your pussy clamping down on his cock, the sight of your fingers against your clit, the sound of your pathetic whimpers and pants as you cry out his name.

He fills you before he can stop himself, kissing you quickly as he releases into your aching, abused cunt. 

Claiming you in more ways than one until you have no choice but to follow.

It rips you apart in the same way he ripped the dress. Until you see stars, and your back arches, and your toes curl. And everything makes sense.

He works to make it last for as long as he can, and once it’s all over, there’s a soft, tender moment of silence as you work to catch your breath.

You forget about everything else. The sirens, the lies, the deceit. Even Johnny. You forget about it all.

Because you got more than a diamond necklace tonight.

You got Harry back.

After a second or two more, you lazily reach up to sweep some of his rogue curls from his forehead. Wanting to really see his eyes as he holds you tonight.

“Harry?” you whisper into the cold, dark alley.

He hums. “Yes, mama?”

“I love you.”

And you’ve never seen him so happy. “I love you more,” he breathes, kiss you again as if to cement this vow.

Eventually, the moment comes to pass, and you have to drop your leg back down to the floor and part from him. You find that your muscles are sore, and just a touch achey, but you don’t even mind. Because it’s somehow just as deliciously pleasurable.

Harry works to readjust your dress and keep you covered; despite the way he’s ruin the expensive fabric. He offers you his jacket – insists on it. Wrapping it around your shoulders before you can even argue.

You smile as you snuggle into the warm material, feeling calmed by the familiar smell of him.

“There,” he says as he looks at you before his head tilts. “Just missing one thing.”

Curious, you watch as he slips his hand back into his pant pocket in order to fish something out.

The necklace.

He hadn’t told you about it before the mission. Only about the safe, and now you think you’re beginning to realize why.

He places it around your neck and readjusts the clasp until it can sit comfortably over your heart. 

And you both look down as it sparkles from your chest, smiling together as though you truly can’t believe it’s real.

“You like it?” he whispers.

You grin so wide, your cheeks hurt. “I love it.”

He kisses you again, and it’s perfect.

Everything. All of it.

Him.

Suddenly, a loud toll echoes through the small town. The sharp chime coming from the clocktower in the town square.

Once, twice, three times. 

Midnight.

“It’s Christmas,” you realize aloud as you and Harry both glance toward the clock. 

His expression softens, and it makes your heart soar. “I guess it is.”

And then…you feel it. The first drop of something cold on your cheek. And then another. And another. And another. Gathering in your hair, getting stuck on his lashes.

Snow.

With a gasp, you look up into the dark sky as it dances down onto the quiet Chicago streets.

A rather perfect ending to a perfectly imperfect day.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

With a soft giggle, you curl yourself under his arm and press your lips to his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Harry.”

He laughs, and you’ve never been so happy.

“Merry Christmas, Mama.”

I'M SORRY THIS ONE GOT A BIT DARKER, IT WAS FUN BUT MOSTLY JUST FOR THE ERA ASPECT!! Thank you for reading if you did and letting me write something a little weirder 😭💞

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs

#harry #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles fan #harry styles smut #harry edward styles #harry styles story #harry styles oneshot #harry styles mafia #mafiarry #mafia!harry #smut #1940s #chicago #harry and doll #better not pout #christmas #christmas oneshot

[joonberriess]

⊹₊ ⋆ “i just been fantasizin', and we got a lotta time, baby, come throw the pipe, gotta know what it's like,”

TAGS — vaginal sex, unprotected sex, pussy eating, light degradation, slight dirty talk, jk’s possessive here, oc’s a cute bean, daddy kinks, some nipple play, public sex, unrealistic sex to me bc how tf did no one see???, pimp!jk, stripper!oc, oc needs to know, WAP WAP WAP, this is for my birthday babes, praise kink(?), happy birthday @hyunjinswifeee this is late sorry :((

WORD COUNT — 3.3 k

Wanna know what it's like, baby, show me what it's like, I don't really got no type, I just wanna fuck all night,

The crowd becomes completely immersed in your smooth hip gyrations and body rolls, they holler and catcall while endless money falls at your feet. Tonight’s a special night, you figured why not spend it at work getting money rained on you. All you really had to do was dance because your oh so lovely boss prohibited you from being requested by the club patrons.

Speaking of your boss, he too was in the crowd just right above you in his private balcony. He was watching with those dark onyx eyes of his, filled with desire and hunger. Each time you looked up he was staring right back down. Jungkook looked so fucking good sprawled out like that over the velvet couch with one hand nursing a glass of whiskey, his hair wild and unkept. Just the display of dominance and power had you weak in the knees.

You bit your bottom lip and slowly ran your hands down your body before reaching back to grip the pole tightly and slowly walking around it. You wanted him to know that you were very much on the same page. The cheers from everyone spurred you on as you spun high on the pole with your head thrown back, the screams grew louder and the crowd wilder as they fought each other to get a better view.

I just been fantasizin', and we got a lotta time, baby, come throw the pipe, gotta know what it's like,

You hold your breath and slowly slide down as your eyes flicker back up to Jungkook who is now standing leaned over the balcony. He stares at you through half-lidded eyes, tongue poking the inside of his cheek and a lit cigar sitting in his hand. You decide to kick it up a notch. Just a tiny bit.

The lights suddenly go out and your shadow is illuminated by fuschia pink LED lights all around you. No one can see a thing but your silhouette as you reach behind you to unclip your bra. The club goers lose it as you dangle the item teasingly in the air before tossing it into the crowd wishing it was Jungkook you were throwing it at.

“More, more, more,” they chant as you move sensually. Luckily another bouncer comes to hand you another bra top to put on just before the lights around you snap back on.

You're exciting, boy, come find me, your eyes told me, "Girl, come ride me" fuck that feeling both us fighting, could he try me? Mmm, most likely,

You mouth along to the song while staring right at Jungkook, a tiny smile adorning your lips as you spin around once more on the pole. You don’t look over for the rest of the dance because you’re too nervous to face the outcome. This was the first time you’ve pulled a move other than looking at him and giving Jungkook “fuck me” eyes.

When the show ends you’re pulled to the side by a squealing Soyeon and a giggling Soojin. “Did you not fucking see the look he gave you when you did that?!” Soyeon gasps, “He literally looked so fuckin’ pissed—in a good way though—like he did that thing he does with his tongue and cheek and then he pulled one of his guys to the side!”

“He wants you for real.” Soojin smirks as she pokes your side, “Looks like the birthday girl is gonna get some dick tonight.” She coos in your ear while cupping your tits in her hands, “So what’s your plan, hmm?” She lays her chin over your shoulder, Soyeon nods too and waits for your response.

You contemplate for a second but quickly make up your mind, “I think you guys already know,” you lean back into Soojin with a playful little smile, “who wouldn’t?”

“True,” Soyeon nods, “but you have to tell us the details okay? You gotta tell me if that thing he’s carrying is like nine inches or something.” She looks pretty serious and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of your throat as you reply ‘then why don’t you find out?’ She gives you an almost offended look, “Girl that’s your man first of all, secondly I got my own.” She winks.

The three of you chat a little more until Namjoon, one of Jungkook’s closest bodyguards, comes through the door searching the room. When he makes eye contact with you he strides over with a friendly demeanor, “y/n, right?” He tilts his head a little to the side, “Jungkook’s asking for you, said if you could meet him up in the balcony?”

You nod in a heartbeat, “I’m just gonna clean up a little, ‘m a little sweaty ‘n stuff.” You softly reply as Soojin gets to quickly re-touching your makeup. He nods understandingly and murmurs a low “Come up when you’re ready.” After he leaves, Soojin and Soyeon slowly turn to you with little smirks on their faces and brushes in their hands.

.

When you reach the balcony you come across Jungkook sprawled out on the sofa with both arms stretched out. He looks a hot mess with the way his tie is hazardously tossed to the side and his white button-up sits messily undone over his chest. “Seems like we’ve finally met.” He hums.

“Hello Mr Jeon,” you softly greet like the polite little thing you are. Your eyes flicker down to the gold cross hanging over his chest, not missing the way his eyes flashed when you said ‘Mr Jeon’. It’s nerve wracking looking into his eyes because Jungkook always held eye-contact and you hated how he made you cower in delight, “I thought I wasn’t allowed to be requested by patrons.”

Jungkook chuckles quietly and brings the cigar up to his lips taking a long drag from it, “Oh? And does that include me too sweetheart?” A pleasant little shiver runs down your spine when the pet name rolls off his tongue so smoothly. You find yourself craving for more.

“I don’t know,” you softly say while inching closer, you come to a stop in front of him, “does my boss consider himself to be included..?” You teasingly run your finger over his shoulder and slowly lower yourself on his thigh, “Does he?” Jungkook’s nostrils flare as he blows the smoke to the side, dropping the cigar on to the ashtray below.

“You wanna give me a dance, is that it sweetheart?” Jungkook drawls out lazily. His eyes inch downwards as he admires the pretty little “outfit” you got on. It reminds him of the little show you put on out there.

Your breath hitches when he grabs the hanging garter string between two fingers and twirls it around in his hold. “...is a dance what you want?” You reply breathily.

Jungkook lays his hand flat on your thigh and strokes over it slowly, idly rubbing his hand up and down over the soft skin. “You offering me more sweetheart?” He licks his lips, “You gonna be a good girl and put on a show like out there—give me a private show just for little ol’ me?” He leans closer to you with his hot breath fanning over your chin and lips.

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, “ ‘s not fair.”

He grins and noses along your jawline towards your slender neck, “Not fair? How so sweet girl?” He whispers as his thumb rubs soothing circles on your inner thigh, “Hm?” He blows in your ear causing goosebumps to form all over your body.

You tilt your head to look at him, “Because, it’s my birthday.” Your eyes drop down to his lips as you unconsciously lick your own, “Aren’t you gonna wish me happy birthday?” You whisper.

“Oh yeah?” Jungkook looks up at you in amusement as he leans closer, “Happy birthday sweetheart.”

Jungkook gently slips his lips against yours, barely moving as he inched his hand upward between your thighs. You’re so lost in the taste of him as you let your thighs fall open invitingly, and your hands came up to rest over his shoulders. Jungkook grunts under his breath, he moves his lips sensually over yours causing wet smacking noises to fill the space between you two. You softly whine as your lips become glossy and kissed raw from Jungkook’s little bites and harsh kisses.

“Why don’t you lay back, hm? Gonna show you what birthday girls get from me,” he presses a chaste kiss to your neck as he slowly guides you on your back, “there you go, just like that baby—yea..spread ‘em for me.” He watches you in pure delight over how well you’re following his instructions.

You stare up at him with a dazed look, “Do you give every birthday girl this?” You purse your lips in annoyance just thinking about all the other girls who have probably been under him like this.

Jungkook toys with the strap of your bra, “No, just ones that like to tease me on stage.” He smirks as he hooks his finger under the middle of the bra, he tugs it downward until both tits spill out from the cups, “Will you look at that..” He murmurs appreciatively when he sees your pretty pebbled nipples, “I wonder if you’re pretty everywhere else too.”

Your lips part to say something but Jungkook leans down to wrap his lips around one of your nipples. You sigh quietly and enjoy the feeling of his wet hot tongue circling and licking over your nipple. He moves his other hand to your other tit and gently wraps his hand around the doughy flesh. Jungkook pulls away and leaves a small trail of spit over your hard nub, as he rolls and kneads your tit in his other hand.

A surprised little “oh!” escapes your lips when he dives down to suck on the other nipple. “Mm–wait,” you throw your head back when his other hand dips low between your thighs, pressing two fingers over your drenched pussy. He teases your clit through your panties as he presses the soaked material against your slicked up cunt.

He hums to himself and pulls away to trail kisses down the middle of your body. His other hand slides down your side until he’s resting it against your hip where the waistband of your panties sits. “Been dreaming bout this day n night sweetheart, you don’t even know how fuckin’ crazy you drive me.” He hooks two fingers under the waistband, “You make it so hard for a man sometimes, you got me fiending like a dog for you.” He growls.

You look down at him and slip your hands over his, “Then make me yours,” you breathily whisper, “ ‘s all yours,” you dreamily smile while hooking your thighs over his shoulders.

Jungkook all but tears your panties off with a loud riiip. He leaves open mouthed kisses trailing down until his mouth’s hovering over your pussy, he wastes no time in letting his tongue dip between your folds. He laps at your messy folds and lays his tongue flat against your clit as he flicks it back and forth teasingly. You quickly become a whimpering mess under him.

He uses his grip to bring your cunt closer to his face, his hands slip under your ass cheeks and he grips both cheeks in his palms. Your eyes flutter shut as you slip your hands into his hair, you wonder if anyone was watching right now. The balcony itself had a thick siding but the thought of them watching Jungkook and you sent delicious little tremors down your spine. “Mm–like that,” you whisper softly while lifting your hips more for him.

It feels like he’s making out with your pussy with the way he’s licking and sucking at your chubby folds, taking a lip into his mouth as he sucks on it teasingly before dipping back in to tease your clit. A choked up moan escapes when his tongue slips lower and pokes at your winking hole, “Please, please,” you tearfully whine, “want more.”

Jungkook leaves a gentle little smooch on your pussy before he goes back to business. His hot tongue slips right into you pushing past your tight rim. Your lips fall open in a small ‘o’ as you shudder, he’s flicking his tongue upwards against your g-spot repeatedly. You scramble to get a hold of him with your fingers tightening in his hair.

“Mmm,” you push his head against you and sigh when his nose accidentally bumps into your clit, “...daddy—” You cry out when the pleasure gets too much and you curl into yourself from the sensitivity.

Jungkook freezes under you, he pulls away and climbs over you with your legs falling from his shoulders. “What did you say?” His eyes narrow, they’re dark with hunger and lust. You look up at him through bleary eyes and giggle instead of answering. Jungkook wraps his hand around your throat, relishing in the moan that bubbles out of your throat, “Oh you like that don’t you baby?” He chuckles breathily, “Go on then, tell me what you just said now.” He squeezes gently and runs his thumb over your lips, it’s nothing too drastic but it serves as a reminder.

Your tongue darts out to run over your upper lip seductively, “Would you rather I called you sir? Or Mr Jeon?” You breathily giggle, “Does it turn you on laying me out here in the open for everyone to see?” You whisper as your lips wrap around his thumb, you suck with a low lewd moan.

Jungkook cusses under his breath, “Fuckin’ hell.. Nothing but a straight demon, look at you, jesus.” He bites his lip and pops his wet thumb out of your mouth, “They can look all they want but this pussy’s mine,” he cups your cunt with his free hand, “daddy’s gonna have you all dolled up with a little collar so people know who you belong to.” He smirks.

You mewl at the thought of him putting you in a collar as you eagerly paw at his slacks, “Please daddy,” you slur out, “ ‘m so wet for you. Aren’t you gonna be nice and give me what I want? Or do I have to find someone to do the job for you?” You grin deviously.

Jungkook’s cock is out within seconds after hearing that, he slaps the wet tip over your clit in soft taps. He listens to the wet squelching your cunt makes, it’s like music to his ears hearing how soaked you are. You let your legs slip open wider as he crowds you while slipping his cock between your folds. The tip catches on to your hole and prods at you, “Please,” you whine softly, “wan’ it in,” you buck your hips so more of his cock pops into you.

“Shit, relax for me baby.” He sighs as he slips his cock inch for inch slowly. His cock fits snug in your tight little cunt, you struggle a bit to house the rest of his cock inside of you but eventually he bottoms out with a small smack. “There you go,” he moans in bliss, “doin’ so good for me.”

You shudder at the praise and stare up at him with puppy eyes, “Don’t want it soft and nice daddy—want it fast n hard.” You hook your arms around his shoulders and bring him down for a sweet gentle peck, “You’ll give me what I want, right daddy?” You bat your lashes at him.

Jungkook groans shakily, “Fuck yes—I’ll give you everything you want baby.” He pumps his cock in and out of you, “Gonna have you dripping in diamonds.” He gasps as his hips roll forward with each time being a little more rougher than the last.

His movements cause you to lightly bounce in place under him, you can only moan and whimper as he drives his cock in and out of you. Your pussy hugs his cock tight when backstrokes making it a bit hard to fuck into you. He shoves his hand between the two of you and presses down on your clit with his thumb causing a loud cry to escape your lips.

“Harder..!” You rasp out and throw your head back. Jungkook wastes no time in diving in to bury his face between your shoulder and neck, leaving a mess of hickeys and love bites in his wake.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he gasps, “ ‘s like this slutty little pussy was made for me.” He fucks into your rougher and makes sure to press in deep each time he bottoms out.

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream, you dig your nails into his shoulder and curl your legs around his waist tightly. “S-So good,” you gasp. His fat cock fills you up just nicely and rubs up against every sensitive spot inside your cunt. You can feel every throb and vein on his cock as he fucks away mindlessly.

Jungkook tilts his face to messily slot his lips against your own, he slams his hips upwards rather harshly. Each punishing thrust leaves you shaking and mewling for more, you weakly hold on to him for dear life and try not loosen your grip on him. He takes your bottom lip between his teeth and bites teasingly as a low whine escapes your lips.

“Fuck, you like that don’t you baby? Got myself a little painslut don’t I?” He purrs low while circling his hips and letting you feel every inch of his cock.

You hiss softly and hide your face in the soft cushioning of the couch, you’ve long blocked out the music in favor of focusing on two things: Jungkook and the wet noises your cunt made. You could feel dollops of slick run down your taint and between your ass cheeks. His cock was drenched in your wetness, everytime he pushed back in a loud squelch was followed shortly after.

“You gonna be a good girl and cum on this cock baby? Gonna make it nice n messy for me?” He huskily whispers, “C’mon baby, answer me.” He lightly slaps your cheek forcing you to look at him.

“Y-Yes,” you softly gasp, back arching when he strikes your g-spot repeatedly.

“Yes what?” He licks his lips.

“Yes daddy.” You whimper out. Jungkook captures your lips in a heated kiss and then proceeds to slam his cock in and out of your battered pussy.

You hug him tightly while messily kissing back as his cock slips in and out of your gaping cunt. He pulls out to the very tip before slamming back in and repeating the process over and over. Loud wet smacks are heard but you’re too cock drunk to see (or care) if anyone is looking. Before you even realize it, your cunt squeezes tightly around him and you cum with a loud cry. Your pussy absolutely gushes around him.

Jungkook groans low in his throat, he comes to a halt and simply grinds his cock into you. He feels more slick coat his cock until he’s covered in slick. He throbs at the sight of your trembling thighs and presses his cock in, letting his creamy cum fill your pussy up. You both slump into each other, he pants heavily and just lays there with his body covering your own.

“Got all night baby,” he murmurs in your ear while kissing the side of your head, “why don’t we get a little more comfortable in my bed, yeah?” He whispers.

You turn to press your lips to his, “Mmhm,” you pull away as a string of spit follows, “gonna give you a REAL show daddy.” You softly say.

Jungkook chuckles quietly, “I’m sure you are.”

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan @lilyflowerguk @sayokodiary @babycandy111 @looneybleus @ash07128 @gyukookswhore

#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut

[thepersonnamedsam]

vacation 🏝️🌊🐚☀️

pairing: the genz!driver x 23!grid

summary: the grid enjoys the summer break together on a nice holiday

warnings: none :)

note: let’s all be delulu and think it’s not gonna take a month until we all see our fav people again

masterlist / taglist

yninsta

Maldives

liked by charles_leclerc, sebastianvettel and 638‘738 others

yninsta the groupchat holiday finally made it out of the groupchat - happy summerbreak y‘all

view all 293‘267 comments

username1 who are the cones?!!! i need to know

username2 probably carlos, lando and danny

yninsta actually it’s me, oscar and danny, so 1/3 right

username3 shooketh that they finally did a group holiday

username4 probably took y/n to convince them to all hangout outside the paddock

username5 yes, she’s probably the connection point between them all, so cute

sebastianvettel looks fun!

yninsta it is! u should come visit us, pls seb

charles_leclerc we all miss you, sebastian

lewishamilton please seb, i need help parenting some young lady

yninsta hope u don’t mean me :/

username6 i love the dynamic, ahhhhwjejejkwjw

username7 i wish to be her, so i could receive all this attention of the drivers

username7 what does a girl need to do?!?3! tell me

username8 sigh, i keep trying to find the key

lewishamilton

Maldives

liked by shakira, yninsta and 1‘378‘728 others

lewishamilton maldives treating me well

view all 927‘209 comments

yninsta ohh, look who’s all fancy now

yninsta where are the photo credits?!? huh?

lewishamilton here

yninsta thanks :)

username9 he’s so hot

username10 what’s gonna happen now?

unsername11 hopefully xavi gets fired

username12 wasn’t he fired already? what did i miss

username11 idk, honestly

username12 ugh, how came one be so hot

yninsta posted on their story!

lando.jpg

liked by yninsta, danielricciardo and 827‘628 others

lando.jpg party rock is in the house tonight

view all 368‘263 comments

username13 this looks like a hangover on the next day kind of night

username14 lando looks so good in the second pic

username15 swooning, i can’t

username16 estie bestie made a rare occurrence

yninsta how can nando smoke a cigar in a club?

fernandoalo_official Because I am cool

yninsta if u still type with capital letters, no you’re not

fernandoalo_official HEY

username17 oh, the old man is mad

daniel3.jpg posted on their story!

yninsta

liked by username18, lewishamilton and 722‘263 others

yninsta enjoying the time off

view all 372‘118 comments

username19 it’s so beautiful there

usermame20 wish to be there rn

username21 ugh, how does danny look this good?!

username22 who’s the one surfing?

yninsta our beloved carlitos

username22 really? he can surf?

carlossainz55 don’t underestimate my skills

yninsta posted on their story!

pierregasly

Maldives

liked by yninsta, yukitsunoda0511 and 373‘638

pierregasly we went ziplining and yninsta kind of went overhead, not because of me tho…

view all 32‘727 comments

yninsta IT WAS TOTALLY BC OF U

pierregasly NO

yninsta YES

landonorris i saw it

username23 was it pierre’s fault?!3

landonorris yes

pierregasly NO IT WAS NOT

yukitsunoda0511 why am i not in this dump?

pierregasly bc you are in japan right now?

username24 poor yuki is not on vacay with them

yninsta he didn’t want to :(

yninsta and is still complaining

yukitsunoda0511 i wanted to see my family

pierregasly wE ARE YPIR FAMILY

yninsta

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 937‘268 others

yninsta the ferrari and the mclaren boyzzzzz

view all 103‘629 comments

scuderiaferrari y/n, you can take our job as pr manager now

mclaren no, she’s already hired by us

yninsta how about i am my own teams pr manager?

mclaren no..?

oscarpiastri i don’t look good in that pic

landonorris haha, thats true

yninsta don’t insult oscar, laNDI

username25 they all look so good

username26 y/n is old enough to drINK? when did she grow up?

fernandoalo_official Barely

yninsta not true, i am actually old enough to drink

yninsta and it was delicious

carlossainz55 yea, bc there is no alcohol in this

yninsta yes it was, what are u talking about

charles_leclerc no, i ordered you a virgin aperol, that’s why it’s so light coloured

yninsta hey, now i’m sad :(

username27 oh i wish to be her

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @biglittlesecret, @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21 , @youkissedareaderinthedark , @mikauraur , @thybulleric , @lpab , @fdl305 , @mellowarcadefun , @teti-menchon0604 , @vildetry06 , @bibissparkles , @aurora-maria , @lunnnix , @sya-skies , @Buckywifeyy , @dakotali , @rechtrecht , @noncannonships , @1eclerc16 , @pitlanebabe , @sopheeg , @whatthefuckerr , @avengersheart , @thatsadsmallchild , @peachiicherries , @idkiwantchocolatee , @callsign-scully , @mehrmonga

#f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #daniel ricciardo #charles leclerc #fernando alonso #genz driver #sebastian vettel x reader #pierre gasly #max verstappen instagram au #insta au #f1 instagram au #lando norris #oscar piastri x reader #lewis hamilton #mick schumacher

[lxvvie]

@art-herog, you have called and I have answered. I think. And then I went and tweaked it so the scenario is as follows: your lovely babies are doing their own thing and ignoring you. how would they respond to you calling them someone by else's name as a prank?

Capt. John Price - It doesn't register because he's lost count of how many pet names you have for him and he assumes this is the latest one. Your prank dies a solemn, cigar-ridden death.

Gaz - "WHO?!" It's funny watching Gaz get all jealous and shit with his nostrils flaring. Yeah, that's what you get for the last prank (said prank woke you up from a good-ass nap).

Alex Keller - Has a delayed reaction. You think he didn't hear you until you hear, "The hell you say?" And thus he close shut the jaws... of Sweet Keller Lovin'. By refusing to manspread. Yeah, you wanna play that game? Good luck getting another glimpse at his sweet thighs, babe.

Soap - Is devastated in Golden Retriever. Was busy watching the latest football (soccer) game when you... when you broke his heart. How could you do this to him? Is willing to find and fight the bastard for his (his as in Soap's) honor because he gave himself to you mind, body, and spirit... after he sulks some more because his team just had to lose the game.

Ghost - A total Petty Betty 'cause you got him fucked up lmao. Doesn't really respond to it aside from a heated glance initially. And then he gets you back. You ask him a question: "Mm. Ask the knobhead, he'll have 'n answer for ya." You try to flirt with him: "Sorry. Simon is spoken for." You can practically see the smirk in his eyes. Touché, you bastard. Touché.

Alejandro - Was sifting through paperwork. Called him handsome to get his attention. No response. Okay, then. You then called him gorgeous. Still no response. Then: "You hear me, Rudy?" Alejandro stops mid-sift and stares. Hard. Bonus points because Rudy was in the vicinity and poked his head in all, "You called?" You're smirking, Alejandro narrows his eyes and turns to stare at Rudy, and poor baby doesn't even know what the fuck is going on.

Rudy - His whole reaction can be summed up as '??????????'. When it hits him it turns into '?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?'. Wait, who the hell is Dasher—?

König - König's inner Eldritch Horror Call of Köthulu Yandere comes out in full force and oh wow, did the air change all of a sudden? What's that tension? You turn and he's staring at you. Calmly. Evenly. He doesn't even blink. And then, "Who is Prinz, Schatz?" Turns out the person he lost that sniper position to took the callsign Prinz and König decided to one-up his ass. Once assured it was all a prank, he's back to his... normal self again? A Shadow over KorTac, indeed. It's on sight, PRINZ!

Horangi - Turns out one of the names you used is an alias he tried to use to get into a game but he got found out. He tells you the whole story and everything. It was riveting as shit, so much so that you forget you were even trying to prank him.

Graves - Doesn't even bother to react. Not really except for this one line: "Mm. He fuck you as good as I do, darlin'?" PHILLIP, PLEASE—

Valeria - Hits you with another Uno Reverse and calls you by the name of one of her exes. Thought you were being fucking cute with that prank, eh?

Roach - Wait, when did he receive a new callsign?

Keegan - Wasn't quite outwardly reactive but was mentally drafting a plan to find the bastard if only because they had an incredibly shitty name compared to his. Or something like that.

#2queued4u. #call of duty #call of duty ghosts #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty x reader #call of duty x black reader #x black reader #task force 141 #los vaqueros #kortac #shadow company #john price x reader #gaz x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo rudy parra x reader #phillip graves x reader #valeria garza x reader #könig x reader #konig x reader #horangi x reader #alex keller x reader #roach x reader #keegan russ x reader

[marcsburnerphone]

And they were roomates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: some awkward moments, kissing

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6- part 7!!!! - part 8

———————

“Look how content he looks, his eyebrows aren’t doing that scowl thing.” Gaz whispers to the boys beside him.

Ghost does a peek over to see the sight but out of all of them he knows best how light of a sleeper John can be, so one look and he quickly he backs up.

“Take a picture.” soap says menacingly. 

“I wouldn’t do that.” Ghost says.

Of course Gaz listens to the trouble maker, whipping his phone out of his pocket. The first two photos he takes are from a safe distance but as he goes to take the third he gets closer, too close. The shutter sound accidentally goes off although the ringer is on silent.

It doesn't wake you up no, but the captain's eyes shoot open, the first thing they land on is a phone in his face and he huffs an angry breath. He doesn't make a move nor let out a word in fear of waking you but the look he gives the guys standing behind the couch is deadly enough. They slowly step back and once they're at a safe distance they scurry down the hall.

At some point during the night you ended up completely on top of him. He lays there annoyed with the immature men who woke him up but absolutely thrilled that he can consciously enjoy this moment. Your head placed in the crook of his neck as you huff small breaths, your weight on top of him is almost everything he’s ever needed in this life. The way your hair wafts that familiar light floral scent is captivating. If he died right now he’d be at peace.

“John?” it startles him from his thoughts.

“Yes doll.” 

“You're so comfortable.” you whisper into his neck. He laughs while running a comforting hand over your back.

“Did you hear those idiots out here not too long ago?” he asks softly.

“Nope.” you say placing a hand on his chest to lift yourself up into a sitting position. He admires the way your eyes are slightly puffy from sleep, the way your shirt wrinkled in random places. He wants to pull you back down into him, wants to ask for five more minutes. Then he smiles cause he knows one day he’ll be able to.

“Stop staring at me.” You say softly looking away from him.

“Can I take you out tonight?” you turn back to him at that. Rubbing your eyes and smiling.

“Like on a date?” 

“Yes, will you grant me your presence for dinner?” he asks hopefully.

“Yeah.” you try to look away and hide the blush that creeps up on your face. He breathes again, he hadn’t known he wasn’t till you answered.

“Okay, em be ready by 6 then.” He inquires.

“Okay well I feel like I can’t just sit here now so I’m gonna go get in the shower.” You stand up nervously. He nods at you trying to hide behind a stoic expression just how giddy he feels inside. He watches you until you disappear around the corner before getting up. 

————

“So you asked her out?” John and the boys sit outside, there’s a cigar between John’s lips and the rest of them puff on a cigarette.

“I did.” 

“You had to threaten her to say yes, didn't you captain” Ghost jokes with a gruff laugh.

“Yer no one to talk.” Soap says in defense of his captain.

“You can’t even say you’re right.” Ghost quips back making Gaz burst out in a chuckle while John just stares at them with a straight face. 

“I’m nervous.” John admits.

“Wow, she makes you nervous. That’s hard to do.” Soap says. 

“Of what?” Gaz asks, ignoring soap.

“I feel like I shouldn’t, like she should be with someone younger, someone with a less demanding job.” They all hum not really knowing exactly how to comfort him. 

“She seems like the kind of woman that has already thought those things through.” Gaz says.

“I’m sure she has.” He replies. 

“Not to fret then, unless you’re the one with the problem.” 

“My only problem is that you're all still here.” He laughs before toking his cigar. 

“Yeah right you love our company.” Gaz replies.

—————

By the time you're out of the shower and have dressed casually for the day John’s friends are bidding you a goodbye, ghost kindly thanks you for sharing your home with them and gives you another soft handshake.

“Once again thankyou for letting me sleep in your bed, I appreciate it.” Gaz says with a small hug before walking out.

“Lass if he doesn’t treat you right you know who to call.” Soap says jokingly.

“If you don’t leave my home right now, soldier, you won’t be leaving at all.” John says seriously, waiting to shut the door. You just laugh leaning looking up at him and hint of humor in his eyes.

“All jokes, all jokes.” He yells out as he walks to the car they all crammed into. Once they pull away John shuts the door looking over to you.

“Their fun.” You say.

“More fun than I am?” 

“Yeah.” He’s surprised by your answer but at the same time not at all. Your smirk is growing into a smile as your damp hair falls over your shoulders.

“Really?” He drags out the word, giving you an opportunity to change your answer.

“Mhmm.” You say shrugging your shoulders.

“C’mere.” You laugh as he grabs at your waist throwing you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. 

“Okay no they're not, I promise they're not.” You laugh, his fingers digging into your sides as he walks towards your room.

“Say you swear.” You kick your feet trying your best to make him let you go, but this seems to be light work for him, as if he doesn’t even feel it. 

“I swear.” You laugh harder as he throws you softly onto your bed. He climbs right above your waist hovering so he doesn’t kill you with his weight. 

“I don’t believe it.” 

“I swear I really do.” He lets up, watching you try to catch your breath as he brushes the stray hairs from your face. 

“By the way no drinking tonight, none.” You say.

“Why?” 

“Cause the last time we went out together and drank only one of us made it out with their mind in the right place.” He laughs in memory leaning down close, close enough that if you moved up an inch your lips would touch. 

“Trust me my mind hasn’t been in the right place since I’ve met you.” He brushes his lips against yours and immerses himself in that addicting shock of adrenaline it gives him every time. 

“Oh, where’s it been then?” No answer, he just leans further into you until your lips connect softly. It’s a simple kiss and it's as electric as always but isn’t enough for you this time. You slightly open your needy lips and he happily takes the hint, swiping his tongue on your bottom lip to see if he’s right on what you’re offering, sure enough he is.

It’s slow and sensual in the beginning, and it’s actually driving him fucking insane. The taste of you is captivating in itself, the soft rhythm he sets and its consistency is melting the world around you. but the soft whine you made when he lifted your head a bit to accommodate the distance between you was the cherry on top. It’s a battle of dominance and clashing of teeth from then on. Your hands went from gently being placed on his face to being intertwined at the back of his neck and he can’t get enough. He wants more and more and more.  His hands are on your waist, your face, running through your hair. He breaks from your mouth to kiss down your jaw impatient yet savoring every moment. 

“John, we can't.” He knows you can’t, not that he would, he's too gentlemanly for that, you on the other hand are dancing on the line of control. Although he's desperate and impatient for you he’s also in dire need to keep you therefore no risks.

“I know, doll.” He says into the soft spot right below your ear. When he pulls away from you the look in your eyes can make any man fall to his knees. The swell of your puffy lips and the bit of saliva on your neck with your hair strewn in different places. It’s a sight to see. 

 You smile, completely and hopelessly falling for him, desperate so desperate that if he had kissed you one more time you wouldn’t have stopped it from going further. 

“Ready in about two hours then?” 

“Yeah.” 

————

You get ready while listening to music, anything to calm the damn nerves in your entire body. You've had dinner with John before, you even live together, but this is completely different.

You dress nicely this time, warm yes, but nicely. Knowing John will either carry you or walk with you gives you leeway to nice outfits. A mini skirt with tights underneath, doc martens, fuzzy crew neck that almost goes over the skirt. You do your hair, light makeup.

You’re putting on your final touches, jewelry wise, when John appears in your bedroom doorway.

“Mmm dolled up for who exactly?” He gives you a long, obvious one up. 

“Well I don’t know who I’ll meet, you know?” 

“I know many things, dolls but not that one.” 

“Well you don’t look so bad yourself.” You laugh, but really he always looks delicious.

“Can you actually help me with this?” You say holding up a gold necklace. He walks up to you, thick fingers grabbing at the dainty jewelry. You turn around moving your hair out of the way as he drapes it around your neck. He misses the clasp a couple times but when he finally gets it he lets out a satisfied grunt. You move to put your hair back but before you can you feel the wisp of his breath on your neck as his lips meet the soft skin of your shoulder humming softly. He turns you around planting one more on your lips. 

“You really do look delectable.”

“Yeah yeah.” Your hands run over his scruff. 

“Ready to go?” He asks, encasing the hand on his cheek. 

“Yeah.”

-----------

im so sorry for the wait for this one, although its my shortest chapter yet I did put my heart into it. Being a sophmore in college isnt for the weak and im the weak.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated<3

@beebeechaos @ttsbaby01 @arminarlertssword @quakeroaksguy @rafaelacallinybbay @bumblebeesfromvenus @glitterypirateduck @midnights-song @lovelythingsinternal @fruitymoonbeams-blog @kkaaaagt @kit-williams @enfppixie @kythefangirl25 @eviltheleon @here4thespice @dclore22 @raethethey @waves-against-a-cliff @novausstuff @darling006 @vampirekilmerfic @Dreams-of-qian-qian @spngingerbread21 @thepumpkinqueen93 @copiasratscheese @youdontknowe @spyderdoll @angels-gonna-play @viisgrave @lieutenantlashfaz @sunndust @beckythecatqueen-blog @aoioozora @o-birdseed-o @mothmothmothmothmothmoth @ihateuguys @oversensitivitea @spicyspicyliving

#angst #captain price x female reader #john price #barry sloane #captain john price #john price x reader #task force 141 #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod mw3

[jelliessoap]

Idea! he team found out about Price's husband on a tv game, which they were watching out of boredom. His last name on the jersey is [lastname]-price. They think its a coincidence. But when he makes a winning shot, and the camera pans to him, he dose this specific hat thing, like pinch and smuge the rim of his hat, like when you pinch salt. They realize, its what Price dose! Coincidence I think not!

OMG I LOVE THIS IDEA SM!!!! IM !!!!!!!

hehehe some hcs under the cut thank you anon!

no warnings i can think of, m!reader, reader is a pitcher in this!

- john would have the game on at the base, ultimately forcing the rest of the task force to watch as well

- literally put the remote in his pocket so they couldn’t change it. they just assumed he really liked the sport for some reason and watched it as well.

- soap was and gaz ended up being the only ones truly paying attention, ghost would give the screen a glance every now and then, mostly just listening to the announcers voice as background noise.

- price only paid attention when you were on the field as per usual, sat next to gaz puffing away at his cigar, soap sat on the floor ( swears its more comfy ), with ghost at the opposite end of the couch

- it was bottom of the 9th and the opposing team’s bases were loaded, 3 balls 2 strikes and 2 outs. your team was up by two points but if they managed to hit a run or walk there was a good chance they could catch up. you needed to strike him out.

- price was stressed. his body tense as he leaned forward eyes fixed on the screen.

- gaz is looking at him like ‘???’ because price never mentioned being a baseball fan.

- it wasn’t that he kept you or your career a secret, it was well known he was married. he was just never questioned about it by the boys and the topic never got brought up

- he also figured it might be safer for both of you seeing you were such a public figure and he had plenty of threats with his job, it wasn’t exactly something he bragged about at work. should your identity fall into the wrong hands he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something happened to you

- ghost ever the observer couldn’t help but notice the way price paid extra attention to the player with, [last name]-price on the back of their jersey. though he figured it was just coincidence

- soap was just excited to be watching a sport tbh, thought it was boring but started to understand as the game went on. now that things were tense he was at the edge of his seat.

- “c’mon luv…” price would mutter under his breath barely audible as you prepared for the pitch that could make or break the game

- you threw a strike with precision, striking their batter out and earning your team the win for the night

- you had your signal to price, it’d become a bit of a signature move for you. as your teammates joined you on the field, cheering and celebrating everyone pumped full of adrenaline you smiled brightly eyes searching for the camera

- as soon as you found it you pulled your signature move, pinching the bill of your baseball cap and smudging your fingers along it while shooting a small wink to the camera. every one of your movement a direct communication to price. that you’d played for him, you won for him, that you were still thinking of him

- gaz noticed your gesture and looked to price in slight confusion. he’s seen price make that exact gesture with his boonie hat more times than he could count.

- ghost noticed too, also taking note of the way price’s lips twitched upward when he watched you and your team celebrate on screen. he was already sure there was something deeper to price’s interest in the game

- soap of course was the first to open his mouth

- “s’like he’s yer soulmate er somethin, captain.”

- “he is.” price would state so seriously, not a hint of joking in his tone. only fondness, even a bit of pride, his eyes never leaving the screen clinging to every bit of you he could get while so far away

- gaz’s eyes would get all wide and he’d say something like “right way to go cap.” finds the fact that price would watch a whole baseball game just for you and your on screen silent communications really romantic ( hopeless romantic gaz truthers rise up! )

- ghost pats himself on the back mentally, muttering a “knew it.”

- then there’s soap who turns his head so fast he nearly gets whiplash, eyes wide and jaw dropped, “YER GAY??” which earns him a light nudge in the side from ghost’s boot and a chuckle from price

#I LOVED WRITING THIS SO CUTE!!! #might make this a series or something #cod #cod headcanons #call of duty #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod x male reader #ghost cod #gaz cod #soap cod #john price #captain john price #john price x male reader #john price headcanons #headcanons #cod mw2 headcanons #male reader #cod modern warefare 2

[midnightarcheress]

i know i just said that i was on a break, but casino!141 was giving me an itch, so here we are. phone writing, bear with me.

cw: nsfw. slightest dub-con at first? poly!141 is arising. cockwarming. simon talks you through it. f!reader. 3 | more casino!141

your footsteps echoes in the hallway, soundwaves ricocheting on the walls of the far too quiet casino. it's strange being there during the day, accompanied only by the more avid gamblers who need their fix, even when most lights are off.

"come in." John's voice travels from inside the office after your brisk knock and you open the door, quickly stepping in the room and opening your mouth to speak, but your jaw closes shut when you realize you're not alone with him.

he's sitting behind a desk overflowing with papers, cigar long forgotten on the ashtray, but your attention is diverted to the masked individual standing beside it, hazel eyes boring into your skull with an unerving stare. "hello, Ace."

his voice can't be described as tranquilizing, but the tone is a stark contrast from the glare. it's almost tender, alluring, and for a split second you forget what you were going to say. "uhm, Kyle said you wanted to see me?" your head turns back to John, offering him a timid smile.

"yes, that's correct." he leans back on the chair, rolling his tense shoulders and tilting his head in your direction, "Simon and i are working through some documents, you know, bookkeeping, management, the boring stuff behind the slot machines," you nod, attentively listening but not truly following, "and i'm needing some of your assistance."

"i'm sorry? assistance?" your brows knit together, confused by his words. he chuckles, index finger raised in the air motioning for you to come closer, and you swear you hear Simon snorting at the interaction.

you walk to the table and stand on his side, eyes darting between the pile of files and the malicious glint in his blue irises. his hand meets your waist and your sight drops from his face, down to his torso, down to his... bulge. "you see, Ace, you're always so good in helping me concentrate during the games, we might as well try something new, yeah?"

his fingers graze your hips, tracing down your sides and reaching behind your thighs, causing a shiver on your spine. "John, i–" a soft 'shh' comes out of his lips, and he starts unbuckling his belt, raising himself just enough so that his trousers can come to his knees.

heat spreads up your chest, your neck, your cheeks, and your vision swerves to the ceiling, mind racing with embarrassment and bewilderment. from the corner of your eye you peek into Simon's direction, and to your surprise, he's completely unfazed.

Price drags you closer, hiking up your shirt just enough to expose your belly, pressing long kisses on the flesh while his hands knead your ass. you shouldn’t give in so easy, you have a better judgement than that, but his touch is so enticing, soft, easily mistaken by loving, that you find it hard to define what's right and wrong – or to define if you really want this.

when he pops open the button of your pants, you know you're done for. even if your brain settled for a 'no', he wouldn't care, considering the amount of pre-cum leaking from his throbbing cock. the damp spot between your legs wouldn't care either.

he pulls your bottoms down slowly, trailing pecks from your navel to your mound. you're nervous, dangerously close to a cardiac arrest when he flips you around hastily, slap on your ass cheek making your body jolt forward.

a firm hand guide your hips to his crotch, while the other positions his cock on your entrance, teasingly stroking the folds to gather your slick. "deep breath for me." he's gentle, pressing kisses on your back while you sink into his length, the pain of the sudden stretch being easily overpowered by the wave of pleasure washing over you. "that's it, love." he groans, squeezing your waist when you finally hit the base, "now just sit pretty while i work, hm?"

you nod, pathetically so, biting your bottom lip to swallow back your moans. you imagined it would be big, and maybe you just needed to be prepared, but fuck, you were filled. John started ruffling through the papers again, meticulously skimming the words like his tip wasn't brushing your cervix whenever you dared to adjust yourself.

"you have to stop squirming, Ace."

your head snaps up to the side the sound came from, and you face Simon's piercing glare. he still holds one of the documents, but his focus is solely on you, an underlying primal desire hidden behind his gaze that makes your stomach flutter.

he chuckles, leaning in front of you, arms almost close enough to cage you over the table. "does it feel that good? having Price's cock stuffing your sweet cunt?" he patronizes, tapping your cheek to get your attention back on his eyes, "i bet it does."

if you had the energy, you'd curse him out, but you're lost in how good you're feeling, even with minimal friction. you look up to him, pitifully doe-eyed as a moan escapes your lips, "go on, pretty girl, feel it. it's pulsing, isn't it? each vein hitting the perfect spots." you grip the edge of the desk, knuckles turning white from the strength, desperately trying to ignore the smallest twitches of his shaft inside of you, "you want him to move, right?"

you hum, writhing on his lap to convince John into forgeting whatever business he has to do at the moment and just fuck you already. "you'll have to wait, Ace." you whine, looking over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of him. his gaze doesn't shift, but you note the slight blush creeping up his collar and you smirk, content that he seems to be suffering too, even if it's barely.

"if you're lucky, he might reward you later. throw all of that shite on the floor and bend you over the table." your walls immediately clench at the idea, coaxing a grunt out of Price. "and you are a lucky girl, aren't you?" a breathy 'yes' comes out of your mouth, and Simon's thumb brushes your lower lip, smearing the tiny drop of spit on the corner over your pout.

your thighs tremble, clit aching and begging for some stimuli, toes curling at the mere thought of being fully claimed by John. "be patient." he deigns, and you don't miss the smirk marking the black fabric of his covering. bastard. his hungry expression only makes you wetter, needier, disoriented by lust, and you absentmindedly nod, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves and wait. painfully wait.

but the action ultimately falters the second Simon's low whisper reach your ears, striking you like electricity, "good girl."

ideas for this are always welcomed mwah

#captain john price #john price #price cod #john price x reader #john price x you #simon riley x you #price x reader #ghost smut #simon riley x reader #price x you #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley #casino!141 #captain price smut #price smut #ghost cod #cod mw #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #f!reader #fem!reader #casino au #nyx writes ☾ #midnightarcheress

[schwarzkatje]

'50s!au with butch!ellie and married!fem!reader

part 2

you, who had been forced to get married to a man you don't even know (let alone love), being torn between feelings of acceptance, because what else could life have given you, and the lingering thought that you're missing out on the many experiences and possibilities hidden god knows where.

confusion that only expands its roots in your mind and heart when one of your husband's most close friends, joel miller, gets invited for dinner and brings his daughter along with him.

ellie. of course you already knew her, she is just a few years younger than you and, again, the daughter of a very close person to your husband. but never had the two of you had the chance to talk and lock eyes for more than two seconds.

it's not just the more intimate scenario that makes your throat dry and your heartbeat falter, but ellie herself. her beauty – round green eyes, so clear and delicate – and the way she dresses – a grey suit, slightly on the bigger side in size, both because this kind of clothing isn't meant for women and also because ellie is quite skinny.

it's the contrast that does it for you and if your train of thought wasn't already all over the place before, it certainly is now.

you forget how to act properly and your husband doesn't waste a second to reprimand you for not smiling enough or for taking too long to bring him his cigar. how can you function when your skin reacts to ellie's stare as if it was a touch your senses could physically perceive? how can you when you feel drawn to her and have to remind yourself not to let your eyes linger too long on her in fear everyone at the table notices something odd going on with you?

ellie's body language contributes to the flowing heat in your face and shivering sensation inhabiting your body: it's an habit of hers to sit with spread legs, right elbow planted on the table and the thumb and pointer finger of her right hand fiddling with her lower lip. all of this while keeping those sinful emeralds locked on your figure. it isn't fair.

when dinner's over, you gather all the dishes, the cutlery and the glasses, heading to the kitchen to wash them. it's when ellie gets up her seat and sees it as an opportunity she has to take to help you, but most importantly to spend some time alone together.

you only hear the rattling of her chair being dragged and don't see her coming in your direction. you realise her intentions when you turn around and bump into her, face first, against her chest. now you even have her scent to haunt you. just your luck.

you quickly make out an apology, gaze going anywhere but towards her direction. ellie taking your chin with the fingers that had been playing with her lip this whole time, guides you and stops your wandering.

"it's actually my fault, i scared you". again, it can't be fair. "can i still help you with the dishes?"

you try your best to sound as polite as possible and not dismissive as if ellie was a burden or stepped the line. "no no, you're a guest here, i can't have you do any of that".

ellie doesn't insist and you almost picture this behaviour as uncharacteristic of her. until you realise that although you declined her offer she isn't budging. instead she leans against the counter and follows your every move, this time with her arms crossed.

your nervousness reaches its peak now that there's only you two – your husband and joel are in the living room in front of the tv. and when you get to this point, you abandon any shy constraints and start talking, hoping to ease the awkward air.

"i really like how you dress. i mean, it really suits you," and you think ellie would laugh because when exactly did you manage to take a proper look at her attire when all you did was avert your eyes? turns out that ellie simply smiles and inches closer to accept the compliment.

"it has a whole different flavour when it comes from a pretty woman like you," this kid is too sly for her own good. your breath gets temporarily stuck on your throat and takes a little longer than usual to get out. and when it does, its higher in volume. goddamnit.

you scoff because what exactly is life doing with you right now? "it's the corniest thing i've ever heard, i hope you know that," comes out... natural? your own chest feels lighter and even though shivers don't cease to awaken your body, you start walking on an path where you are at ease.

now it's ellie's turn to laugh, maybe not expecting you to be so bold as to come up with such an answer. she's not a saint and she would be lying if you had asked if she wasn't enjoying just a little too much taunting you.

"doesn't mister hubby call you names like 'sweet pie' or 'honey bear' or whatever shit you straight couples seem so fond of?" ellie isn't afraid to give voice to what she thinks and you find yourself admiring that.

this encourages you to keep talking and laughing without keeping an eye on how hard and loud you do. "i think these nicknames only appear in nursery rhymes".

you go back and forth for quite some time, keeping it not serious and just enjoyable. maybe the first time since your marriage where your speech isn't as controlled and your own persona tastes the aroma of existing while being free.

but the excitement – for lack of better words, because you know it's not just that, but something more serious and filthy, something you aren't ready to admit even to your own thoughts – that caught you in a net previously comes back the instant ellie goes quiet and pushes a lock of hair behind your shoulder.

you are so beautiful and nice and easy to talk to. not only that, you clearly don't have anything against ellie and the way she is and lives. she wants to keep this.

and so she decides to risk it all, running her mouth and being shameless.

"listen, would you mind if sometimes i steal you and take you with me? i know a place or two you would like"

#ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x you #ellie williams #ellie tlou

[bunnyreaper]

the universe gives you a second chance with soap.

(18+/MDNI, mentions of MCD, mwiii spoilers, multiverse, 09 soap)

It's strange to see Johnny, Soap with a cigar hanging from his lips--though it's even stranger to see him older, especially when you didn't get to grow older together. That's what he always said.

"Wanna be like you when I grow up, LT."

"Lass, if we're still single when we're grown..."

You never did get to tell him how you really feel, felt. Yet just as he was ripped away from you by that bullet, the strangest thing happened--a rip in time and space had given you a second chance.

Captain MacTavish can feel you staring, even if he's doing an expert job of pretending otherwise. He'd given you a wry smile when you'd joined him at the railing, and offered you a puff of the thick cigar which you subsequently had refused.

You've only known this Soap for a matter of weeks, and slowly but surely you'd been making progress in getting to know him all over again, and letting him get to know you.

It's clear from his knitted brows and the heaviness of the air that there's something on his mind. With Johnny, the silence never lasted too long, his brooding only extending a few moments before he'd be spilling his heart out, at least when it comes to you.

"I'm not him." Soap cuts in, his gruffer voice startling you.

His words are so resolute and firm--and you wonder how long he's been holding in that thought, dwelling on your expectations.

It seems no one around base had been quiet about the close relationship you and Johnny had, and clearly someone had clued him into your not-so-secret feelings.

"I know." You nod, swallowing and trying to deal with the bile rising in your throat, and the thought that you'd lost this version of him too before your second chance, could even begin.

You pluck up the courage, the courage you were missing before--though your voice is small and uncertain. "But, I can't help but think the universe put you here for a reason."

That draws his attention, steely blue eyes fixed firmly on you. Each second stretches on, each breath bringing in a wave of heartache that you desperately wish to go away.

"And ye think that reason is you?" His eyebrow quirks and his lips part, flashing a hint of that youth you're so used to seeing, that you miss so dearly.

"Maybe? Probably stupid of me to think that." You mutter, unable to hold his gaze any longer. That's what you want to believe. Johnny can't get a second chance at life, not really, but you selfishly get a second chance at being with the man you loved.

As close as you'll ever get other than weeping over an empty grave.

You're pulled out of your thoughts by a finger nudging up your chin, bringing your head back up so the man before you can meet your eyes once more. That familiar spark shines within.

"I dinnae know ye that well, but looking at ye... Aye, I'd think it was trying to tell me something too."

#soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish #call of duty x reader #call of duty fanfiction #bunny writes

[landojpg04]

I should not be writing this as I have finals and a huge project due by Sunday, but on my fyp all I've been listening and seeing is the new Hozier song that is supposed to come out next Friday. The one where he sings You're too sweet for me, and I cannot stop picturing Simon saying that throughout the discourse of your relationship.

When you both first meet, you notice that when this man drinks his coffee, it’s black. No sugar, sweetener, not even creamer. It's just a pure bitter liquid that he sips through a debrief in the morning. Meanwhile, you loved sweeteners, oat milk, almond milk, sweet cream foams, and anything that would rid the bitterness. 

“Your coffee is basically sugar.” You heard him grumble as you added more cream to your cup. You smiled and offered him the creamer in your hand.

“Won't kill you to try some; it’ll may make the bitterness go away.” You said.

“I like my coffee black.” He says before walking away.

The next night out, you were running late. You finally made it to the restaurant/bar. The team had already ordered some drinks, but behind you was Simon.

“Wanna order together.” You say, and he just nods, leading the way to the bar.

You catch the attention of the bartender.

“Can I get a cosmo.” You said; he nodded his head and looked at Simon for his.

“Whiskey. Neat.”

You looked at Simon with a puzzling look. He raised his eyebrows as you stared at him.

“Your drink of choice is warm whiskey?” You asked.

“It’s better than a juice with alcohol.”

You just laughed at his remark towards you.

“Simon, you just aren’t a fan of sweet things.” You said as the bartender handed you your drinks.

“Not in the aspects you think.” He says before leading you back to the table.

Johnny knew of the crush Simon never dared to let on towards you. He would always push the lieutenant to at least try and make a move or even hold a conversation longer than 5 minutes with you. 

It's not until they are both smoking a cigar and enjoying the quiet of the night when Johnny finally gets a glimpse of his true thoughts.

“Why is it that you won't allow yourself to pursue even past the debriefing room or weekly gatherings? She definitely wouldn’t say no to a night out with just you.”

Simon just blows the smoke he was savoring in his lungs.

“She’s too sweet for me.” That is all he lets on.

Johnny gave him a look, not understanding his thoughts.

“She’s too sweet for me. She can’t be with someone like me. It would be like mixing honey and ash. It wouldn’t work.”

You heard Simon complaining about shoulder pain the other day. You had picked up some lidocaine cream and patches because that is what worked for you. 

“Hey Simon,” You tried to get his attention before he got in his truck.

He stopped and turned to see you catching up to you. You had a small bag in your hand. He relaxed on the side of his door as he waited for you.

“Here you go.” You said, handing him the bag.

“What is it?” He said, looking at it before peeking in.

“I heard you complaining about shoulder pain, and I have the same problem, so I thought I would share the love by getting you some of the remedies I use for you.” 

“You're too sweet for me.” He whispered to himself, almost as a reminder.

“What?” You said, not picking up on what he had just said.

“Thank you, this is really nice of you.” He said. You nodded and gave him a smile before walking over to your car. 

It’s three in the afternoon, and you're in his bed. It's a rainy day, and right now, you both are tucked in under his covers, taking in each other's body heat. You looked up to meet his eyes. He peers down to meet your gaze. Simon could have never thought, after years of this back and forth, that you would still agree to be here with him. You trace the scar that lines his lip. You knew he was afraid to bear himself all to you. To open Pandora's box and let you see him like this. No mask, no guard, just him. He was expecting you to run away from the bitterness he knows surrounds him. But you stayed. And continue to do so.

“You're too sweet for me.” He says before grabbing a hold of your chin and moving you towards his lips. 

ANGST PORTION (don't hate me, but this is also in my head)

He’s standing before you. Hood on, hands in the pocket. He gazes down as he mutters the words,

“You're too sweet for me.”

He’s attempting to break things between you. And his reasoning echoes in your head: You're too sweet for me. At the end of the day, you care for the man you love, have been there for him through the darkness, and have shown him the way it feels to be loved. And he's stepping back because of the words–You're too sweet for me. 

#simon ghost riley #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #ghost headcanons #task force 141 #tf 141 #cod #cod headcanons #ghost angst #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon riley angst