#re: we’ll never have sex

[eoieopda]

okay this is the last one!!!!!

#jade speaks #eoieopda superlatives #polls #jjk #re: the one where jungkook is the world’s clingiest/softest bf #myg #re: the one with yoongi the cat and the turf war #ksj #re: the one with seokjin soju and all the stars in the sky #kth #re: the one where taehyung buys you mandu and tampons during your period #jhs #hobi #re: we’ll never have sex

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Cheating Heart

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader

Synopsis: Your feeling for John were wrong -- horribly wrong -- but when you see your current boyfriend in bed with another woman, what's to hold you back anymore? (18+)

Word Count: 20.8k

Warnings: Cheating, toxic relationship, angst, fluff, depictions of violence and gore in flashbacks, unhealthy coping mechanisms, smut, breeding kink, praise kink, Protective!Price, vulgar language, porn with an incredible amount of plot

A/N: Literally just supposed to be smut practice and I turned it into a novel lmfao. I should be getting back to requests after this.

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

You slap a hand onto Soap’s bicep as you slide past the Scot, laughing loudly. The C-17 was still whirring behind you, the engines rumbling and shaking the air over your heads like great waves. Soap had asked you to go out with everyone for drinks at a local bar here in your city, not a moment prior. He was being quite persistent about it.

“Ah, c’mon, Little Lady,” The mohawked man grumbles, jogging to catch up to your fast form. Shit, you really needed a shower – your pores were packed with blood and dirt, “It’s just a few minutes from Base! We’ll all get steamin’ in no time.”

 “Hell,” Your body aches, but there’s a promise of hot water and clean clothes in your Barracks, making your feet move over the tarmac faster. Showering after a tough deployment was better than sex, “I’d love to, man, but you know that Leon makes me homemade meals when I get back home. Sorry, but I hope I make up for it by saying I’d take a bar burger and a drink over his lasagna any day. That thing could kill a horse.” 

Soap chuckles, eyes sparkling, and you send him an inquiring glance, “Price’ll be out with us.”

Your lips thin, the M13 strapped over your back suddenly ten times heavier and digging into your shoulder blades. Inside your chest, your heart sparks to life.

“MacTavish…” You warn, eyes narrowing at the stocky male, “Careful where your words go – I have a boyfriend. Plus, idiot, whatever it is your implying is insanely against workplace policy.”

“Yeah, but that boyfriend of yours treats you like shite.”

“Hey!” Yelling, your eyebrows turn in with a glare, finger pointing at his chest, “That was uncalled for, Asshat.”

Frowning, you watch Soap’s hand go scratch at the back of his head as his optics dart away, grumbling, “I don’t think it was if I’m being honest. Not exactly a prime choice in a partner you’ve got there.” 

The two of you make it to the front doors of the Barracks building, and you huff in annoyance. You were quickly deciding that not even a shower would make you feel better if this conversation continued. It was bordering on too much for your tired brain, sinking needles into your heart and dripping poison. 

Soap wasn’t lying, of course, your boyfriend was a piece of work and everyone knew it. Not only did Leon get pissed when you had to go on deployments – which you didn’t have control over – but he had also made a habit of being a bitch when you came back lately. There was never a chance to relax anymore, and what was worse was that it hadn’t always been like that. Part of you had tried to empathize with him because it was probably hard for someone's significant other to be away most of the time.

Like that gives him an excuse, You think, face heating with resentment as you remember the last argument Leon had dragged you into.

It was the day before your current deployment began nearly four months ago. Leon had gotten angry that you weren’t able to tell him where you were being shipped off to, and, like usual, had made the last day you saw him pure hell. 

“Oh, so It’s my fault that I’m concerned?!” He was screaming at the top of his lungs, his voice bouncing off the ceiling, “I get it – I’m the problem for wanting you home and safe.”

“My job is important, Leon!” Attempting to keep your cool, you take deep breaths. Teeth nash against your bottom lip and rip it to pieces as you use the pain to call away from the tears stuck in the ducts of your eyes, “You’re acting like what I do doesn’t affect the world. I need to go, otherwise, bad people are–”

“Is that what you tell yourself? Fuck me, how goddamn stupid could you be?!”

Leon growls, sending you scathing glances as he begins to pace the living room.

“Now you’re just being rude,” You whisper, whipping at your cheeks and gathering teardrops on your sleeves, “You know I can’t control when John sends me out with him and 141! They’re my team!”

Mentioning your Captain was a mistake and you knew it just as John’s name came out of your mouth. Leon pauses – his body going very still.

“John,” He whispers, eyes lit with burning fire, “Since when have you started calling him by his first name?”

“Leon–” You tried to salvage the situation but it was already too late. Your boyfriend snarls out accusation after accusation.

“I knew it! You’re cheating on me–”

“No, I’m not!” Pleading with someone to listen can only get you so far, “We’re close because we're always together – just like with the rest of the boys!” Leon shakes his head, hands clenched at his sides and vibrating with rage. Loyalty meant so much to you, trying to imagine a world where you would physically go out and cheat on your boyfriend was like seeing a unicorn out on the street. Your feet take you closer to Leon as the tensions rise, “You’re not listening! Listen to me!”

“Why the hell should I listen to a fucking whore!?”

The memory leaves you tense, remembering for a moment the sound of a tossed lamp and the shattering that followed soon after as it hit the floor. It was silly, but that lamp that Leon had thrown in anger was a family heirloom; something immeasurably precious to you. It was the last object you had left from your Grandma. Now, the remains were probably stuffed in a garbage bag somewhere, but you wouldn’t know because you had left with your duffel bag and slept at Base. At the very least you could hope your Leon cut his fingers picking up the pieces of glass.  

You had thought that everyone hadn’t noticed anything wrong, but had been catching concerned glances when you went into the cafeteria with thick bags under your eyes the next day; hair tangled and matted from your fingers.

Price had brought you outside, only pausing slightly before laying a heavy hand on your arm and squeezing. The man had bent slightly to look you in the eyes, head tilting so his hat blocked the sun from your eyes. 

“Love?” His eyes had been warm, creased with concern around the edges – an emotion you never received from Leon. When you just stared at your Captain, he hummed in the back of his throat, “You alright down there?”

Before you could do anything you might regret, you shook off his grip and disappeared back into the cafeteria. You didn’t eat that day and the next you were off on deployment.

“--soon?”

You blink, noticing Soap had begun walking ahead of you, his gear clinking.

“What?” You ask dumbly, “Sorry, I spaced out.”

Soap smirks, looking at you strangely, “I said I’ll see ya soon…hopefully out with the rest of us tonight?” He raises an eyebrow expectantly with a grin and you force out a half-assed huff. Trying to mask the unease in your blood. 

You had been gone four months instead of the intended three with Soap out in Russia on a Black Op, fighting back in a war that no one would ever hear of. Distinctly, you wondered if John was mad at you for how you acted toward him before you left.

“No promises, Suds,” Striding down the hallway you take the turn on the right leading to the women’s barracks, your back turned as Soap continues to subtly plead to you. 

If you took the time to look into it, you would have realized that the man was concerned for you; his thought process was to keep you away from Leon for as long as he could so you might come to your senses.

“I’ll see you at 0900, then! Don’t keep everyone waiting, yeah? Been too long since you’ve been out with the rest of us!” 

His voice falls away as you open the door to the joint female changing room and showers. Only when the hum of the air conditioning overhead blocks out everything else do you speak.

“You’re nothing if not persistent, MacTavish,” Putting your palms into your eyes, you press until you see stars and take a deep breath. 

Filling your lungs you hold the air trapped and begin to count to five, letting the tension in your shoulders leave as you breathe out. The room was empty of anyone else, white-walled, and tiled floors with rows of metal lockers you needed a key to get into. Digging into your vest pocket, you produce the one you would need to enter yours.

It was the one in the middle of the room, with access to the emergency door in the back and a clear view of the front door as well. Some traits stick with you when you join one of the best forces on the planet.

Since you lived around here, everything you would need was already in the locker, including a gray shirt, baggy sweats, fresh undergarments – thank God – and spare boots. Your duffel bag of belongings was still on the C-17 and set to go through inspection before you could get it back.

Groaning and deading the inevitable stack of reports you would have to go through, plus the thoughts of what to do tonight, you sit on the rickety wooden bench and begin to take off strap after strap of your uniform. 

“This is gonna be one hell of a problem, Isn’t it?” You mutter, body slouching with more and more fatigue as the seconds draw on. 

Maybe I should just stay here, You wonder to yourself, Say the hell with it to both of them and have a girl's night in. Watching a sad movie and crying over a bucket of fucking ice cream sounds better than fighting with Leon or trying to ignore John.

Chucking off your combat vest, you clench your jaw in agitation. Why couldn’t things be simple? Why couldn’t you just break it off with your boyfriend and be done? It was obvious the love that was there before was gone…but you had known Leon since high school. You bite your lip. There were so many good memories. 

John, as he usually does, weasels his way into your mind from the gaps. 

You unlock your locker and slam the door open so that the hinges rattle back in anguish. Shucking off your M13 your shaking hands all but toss the attached strap on the hook inside as you try to force the brown-haired Brit from your consciousness. You can’t call it love or lust, but somewhere in the spaces between missions and spent bullets you had grown fond of him in a way you couldn’t describe. John. Your Captain. 

As your knives and pistol are placed in the above cubie you run over hand over your face once more, pausing to breathe deeply before regaining motion. Putting your head on the locker’s cool metal corner, your eyes close tightly. 

The Black Op with Soap had been hard. You had been trying to strangle every emotion down like the ball in your throat when the Scot brought up Price or Leon during muttered conversations. 

“That’s why the Captain likes you so much, then!”

“The boy of yours is a pure dafty – why the hell would he say that to you?!”

“Price’ll have my head if you take another shot for me.”

“The two of you would make a fine looken’ couple, y’know. No missin’ the way he looks at you…Hey, now! I meant it as a compliment! Stop hitten’ me woman!”

You shouldn’t be feeling like this. Why were you feeling like this? Leon was a dick sure, but you both had fond memories together – you’d known him for more than half of your life! When you thought of someone you wanted to spend the rest of your life with it was always…

Your eyes harden as reality sets in. 

John. 

“Fuck!” Reeling backward, you curl your left fist and send it right into the locker beside your own. 

Immediately a sparking of pain ripples down your limb like lighting, firing off nerves and heating the skin as blood rushes to the affected area. Hunching your shoulder’s in, you bite your tongue and tip your head down. 

Your heart is hammering so hard you hear it echo through the room, bouncing off the tall ceiling – Knock-knock. 

Blinking, you look up, staring in confusion into the depths of your locker before you realize that wasn’t your heart at all. 

A distinctly male voice calls your name from behind the barrier, and suddenly you know why they weren’t coming in. Closing your eyes and sighing, you back up and stare at the door silently. The man calls your name again, accent muffled as knuckles rasp.

Someone’s knocking on the door…? Why would they do that? You wondered, It’s unlocked.

“I know you’re in there – the Sergeant told me where I could find you,” You could imagine the person you had just been thinking about nodding as he always does during conversations; dark eyebrows animated, “ We need to have a word before you clean up, yeah?”

“Price?” You ask, face tightening as you recognize the speech pattern before he even finishes talking. Could you really not get a moment's peace around here? Shaking out your hand, which was bleeding by the knuckles and leaves droplets on the floor, you stutter out, “W-what are you doing in the girl’s barracks?”

Your heart was already running faster than it had a moment ago. You didn’t want to talk to him right now.

The Captain sighs behind the door, and under the crack you see a shadow shuffle from one foot to the other. His voice lowers, losing that formal tone for a second. Your body reacts even as you tell it not to, and your breath gets shallow and your pupils are blown wide. “Would you open the door so I can talk to you, please, Love? I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.”

Sucking down a breath your large muscle palpitates heavily behind your ribcage. Did you really have a choice?

John, separated from you but still sensing your hesitation, feels his eyes narrow. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about your last interaction before you left; the way your eyes were red-rimmed and dull. It had weighed on him more than he liked to admit for those few months, and it wasn’t like he could call to check-in. 

Black Ops meant no contact, and your safety was always his priority before anything else. He waited. So when Soap had knocked on John’s office door, the two of you back at Base unannounced, and had looked at him with creased eyes he had known immediately something was wrong. 

For a moment, his heart had stopped, thinking you were injured. But Johnny’s next words stopped him. 

“The girl’s been acting strange, Price. I can’t find any sense behind it – been that way damn near ever since we shipped out. Little Lady’s worrying me. She’s not right and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Maybe this was a mistake, John thinks, eyes narrowing as he itches at his beard, forcing the heated image in his mind away like it burned him. He didn’t know what he felt about you, but the knowledge that you had a boyfriend didn’t sway his sense of loyalty. Even if being around you made his chest tighten and his thoughts run.

If you were in the right headspace the door would have already been open. But then again you were in the locker room. The Captain’s head jerks back, trying not to imagine you naked just behind a thin barrier as his chest sucks in a sharp breath. 

It wasn’t his place to think of such things. To imagine you beautifully naked, laying under him and gasping out his name was…it was immoral. You deserve better than that. But damn it if the thought didn’t make his pants tighten.

A shadow moves under the door and Price straightens his spine, taking a step back before bringing his attention back to the present. Taking a deep breath, he lets it out slowly. 

Your hand lays on the door knob stiffly, shirt already untucked and boots unlaced. You probably looked a mess, you thought to yourself, sticking your tongue out of the side of your mouth with nerves. Freezing, your heart skips a beat.

Why did you care?

Growling under your breath, you swing the door open and plaster a smile over your bitten-to-hell lips that wouldn’t convince a blind man. 

“Sir,” You say, body coiled as your eyes trail your Captain’s figure.

John Price was the same man you remembered. Tall and fit, wearing an army green long-sleeved athletic shirt and cargo pants tucked into boots mirroring your own. Watching his muscles writhe, he crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head – where the old bucket hat sits covering his shorter brown locks. 

The hallway lights were doing wonders for his complexion. 

“Do…you need something, Price?” Maybe if you didn’t look at him your head wouldn’t get fuzzy? 

Your eyes shifted up and down the hallways as if you were doing something illegal, listening to his breath and the rattle of his throat as he made a sound. 

If people saw the two of you rumors would start; you could almost hear them now.

“Did you see her talking to Captain Price outside the locker room?!”

“Lord, doesn’t she have a boyfriend here in the city? I feel bad for him...She’ll start one hell of an internal investigation.”

“No loyalty at all. I bet she likes sneaking around. Hey, do you think she’s sleeping with him?! Holy fuck I bet she is!”

“--Love? Hey, hey, Love, look at me, would you?” You blink back to reality, clearing your throat and tensing as a hand levels on your shoulder. 

Staring at John’s chest, you shake your head.

“Sorry, Sir, just tired,” You attempt a chuckle but it sounds like a balloon deflating, “Long mission, you know?”

Your eyes are boring holes in John’s chest, not willing to move anywhere else as your face begins to burn. His hand was so firm, warm, how would it feel when it was digging into the flesh of your thighs? Your waist? Would he be rough like the calluses on his hands would imply? Or would he handle you delicately like his guns, flicking over the safety and caressing the cool metal?

Shut the fuck up!

A moment passes before you notice your Captain hadn’t responded to you. Frowning, you throw him a quick glance and see him intently looking at your clenched, shaking, left hand. His blue eyes are dark, lips frozen in a thin line that has your lungs shriveling and a shiver running down your spine. You try not to follow the tensing of his lower abdominal muscles or the shifting of his large hips as his feet move.

Stop it, You plead with yourself, Please just stop. This isn’t right. What’s wrong with me?

That was the moment you noticed the blood dripping down your fingers, flooding from split knuckles and dotting the floor in red. Widening your eyes, you snap the hand behind your back in panic, clothes rustling.

“Uh,” You fumble, pulse so loud you can hear it in your ear as sweat slicks the back of your neck. Stuttering, you can’t find the words to continue before John speaks.

“Tell me,” He orders, voice so baritone and raspy you feel it rattle in your stomach; at that moment it’s not John you’re speaking to – it’s your Captain. You move out of his hold but he takes a step forward anyways, “Now.”

Freezing, you gape like a fish, mouth moving but no words come out to grace the man’s ears. John’s heart is pounding, snapping from the hidden hand to your eyes that lack the spark they usually had. He hadn’t seen that bit of light in your eyes for a long time and ached to find out why. What had happened? Why were you avoiding him? You usually went straight to his office after you got back from being separated from him – even if you were full of blood and dirt with bags lining your eyes. 

John’s hands clench, jaw following suit. 

You sigh shakily, swallow down saliva, and try not to throw up. 

“I-I…” Moving your head, your fingers shake. How could you explain your situation? Tell your Captain – who you have complicated feelings for – that you wanted to end things with Leon because of him? Fuck, do you tell him how shitty your boyfriend’s been? That wasn’t his business and certainly not his problem. It was better if you held your tongue and suffered, a part of you knew, because the infection of misplaced guilt was wrapped around your heart like thorns.

John would think less of you for staying with Leon for this long; probably put you on leave to figure it out yourself. 

No, You try to tell yourself, He wouldn’t do that – this is John we’re talking about. He’s kind to me and, if anything, he’d be just as pissed as I am about it. 

That you knew was true. John would go to war to make sure you were alright; he had.

The man was silently standing, patient with you even as the telltale sign of concern and muted irritation were painted on his face. John had always been a gentleman – holding doors open for you, letting you sleep in when the nightmares got to you and left you huddled in a corner for hours. He had found your favorite candy on an Op in Italy and bought you some for fucks sake!

But nothing made sense anymore and everything felt like it was at a breaking point. You liked Price – and hated Leon – and that fact nearly sent you spiraling into hysterics. You had been with your boyfriend for so long; he had been everything to you. 

Leon had helped you get through deaths in your family, and before the fighting started, ordered you flowers when you came back from deployments; Leon cooked and cleaned without you having to ask. He knew your life story possibly better than you did, and you knew his.

Your entire life was spent with him. Who were you if all of it suddenly ended? Years of your life thrown away for nothing.

If there was one thing that everyone on Base knew besides that your boyfriend was a bitch, it was that you hated change more than anything. Ironic, considering the profession you were in. 

You just needed silence – space to breathe without getting suffocated. But maybe what you really wanted was for John to fucking hug you. To feel his bear arms wrap around you and squeeze the stubborn tears out of your eyes as you sob. When was the last time you actually cried, anyways? John would make it better; hold you like he cared about you. Like how he had in Madagascar when a bullet got lodged in your side. You swore you saw him cry that day, beautiful blues shiny as your blood pooled out of his heavy, adrenaline-shaking, fingers. The body of the man who jumped you both lay dead and filled with more metal than a construction zone not a few feet away, gurgling. 

That man was supposed to be the target – Hubert Antonin – and you were both supposed to bring him in alive; you never got execute authority. 

But Price had unloaded the clip on him right as you cried out in pain.

“Stay with me, Princess, c’mon. Keep your eyes open for me…Look at me, Love. Hey, I promised I’d get ya’ back safe. Don’t make me lie, now, yeah?”

A weak, velvety, chuckle meets the humid air. It was startling, watching him lose his composure like that.

“It b-burns, John. I…I can’t–”

“I know, Sweetheart, I know. I’ll get you fixed up and good to go soon, Copy? Just like new,” His wild eyes snapped back and forth as your eyesight gets blurry, lids flickering like a candle’s flame, “Where the fucken’ hell is Evac?!... No, no, no…What did I just tell you – Keep those eyes open, Muppet!”

When you were stable in the Med Ward of the local Base, the man had brought you to his chest, letting you feel the rampaging of his heart and the uneven breaths on the top of your head. His hands tightened over you, fingers brushing up and down over your arms. Like he was worshiping you just for living. For being there.

“Attagirl. Just let me hold you for a minute, yeah?” 

As you recovered, he never let you out of his sight. 

If you thought about it too hard, that was perhaps the first instance when you knew something was very wrong with you for liking the feeling of his skin touching yours. His body heat melting into you in such a tight embrace it left you crying into his chest in thankfulness. You had never felt that when hugging Leon – Leon hated hugs to the point you had to beg him to hold you. 

But thinking about that was just another pipedream. Nothing about John Price and yourself would ever come to light as being anything more than partners on the Task Force. 

He was your Captain. You were working under him. 

You had a boyfriend. John had a valuable asset. 

But you really wanted him to be yours. And, never mind how Price felt about you and if it was the same twisted form of disloyalty or lust, you still hated yourself for it. For feeling so deeply.

“No,” You respond blankly to John’s request for an explanation of…everything, but can’t look into his eyes to see the shock that sparks. 

John's shoulders tense, jaw going slack. He gains his senses, but it’s already too late. 

Jerking back into the locker room, you slam it shut behind you and snap the lock in place, feeling the quivering of your lips as the first sob builds. 

Your skin was dirty and layered with grime, hair matted, and gear in need of deep cleaning. But that feeling you carried didn’t change even as you took a shower, wiping away everything down a drain with red-tinged water as a shadow hesitated for a long moment before confidently moving away from the front door.

You still felt disgusting. 

—

Nothing you did made sense to him. 

John was walking away from the locker room with measured steps, head pounding. People passed by and gave him strange looks, but his eyes were dead ahead, glaring at everything and nothing at the same time. This wasn’t like you at all. 

She’s been acting strange for months, why haven’t I bloody checked in sooner? Your actions reminded him of a ghost – walking around the halls at night and steadily dimming. The whole team had seen it; how there was a weight eating at you. Price and the others had tried to get you to talk to no avail. 

I need to do something about this, He tells himself as a thought worms its way into his brain.

Could she be angry at me? Now that he thought about it, every time he was near you trying to engage in a conversation you froze and made some excuse to not speak. And with how you looked at him before you slammed the door in his face…John had stayed shell-shocked behind the barrier with half a mind to rush in and demand you tell him what was wrong. 

But he knew that would only make it worse.  

“She needs time to cool off,” He mutters under his breath, rubbing at his forehead with his fingers and holding his head for a moment, “Get her head on straight.”

But what if you never chose to seek him out after the fact? Could he handle that? 

Why do I want her to come to me when she’s hurting? He wonders with a clenched jaw.

Taking a corner and leaving the Women’s Barracks, John sighs as he walks on. His feelings were getting in the way again – his feelings about you that he had tried to choke down like whisky. Ironic, that it left the same burning sensation in his neck. There was only so much he could do about them, truth be told, because everything about you made the Captain want to disregard every order he’s given. 

It wasn’t right, it was the definition of wrong in both of your lines of work, but this was the one situation he didn’t know how to fix. So he kept silent. 

You had a boyfriend, and that was enough to stay his tongue and keep him watching from a distance.

John made it back to his office quickly and quietly, but would soon find that trying to get reports done was impossible. When his pen would hit the paper his mind would blank, and many times he would have to re-read the contents over and over to retain anything. 

“Fuck,” He breathes out, baring his teeth and leaning back in his chair. 

The most he could do was sit there and wait until tonight; hoping that the bar that Soap was bringing the Task Force to had good Whisky. 

Try as he might, he knows getting drunk would only make him think of you more.

—

The car ride to your house was spent in silence, a sheen of rain making the sky dark. Under you, the fake leather seats are cold, leaving you shivering even as you were wrapped in a thick sweatshirt and your spare cargo pants. Gripping the wheel tighter as the quiet road went on and on ahead of you, the street lamps shine on the old sidewalks corralling you in. 

You had made the tough decision to surprise Leon when you got home. 

Lips thinning, all you can hope is that the stewing anger that had been left behind had calmed and not worsened. But Leon held grudges, and, unfortunately, so did you. Your Grandma’s lamp still made your heart ache if you thought about it too much; left bitter tears and a bare esophagus behind.

He had stepped over a big line – one you weren’t sure you could forgive him for. Sighing and shaking your head, you watch the dark road as the chilled cloud of condensation is expelled from your mouth. It seems you had forgotten to turn the heat on too. 

Taking a turn, you pull the vehicle to a slow stop as its brakes squeal. Months of sitting in the Base’s underground garage would do that to you, but you still grimace at the noise that makes your face tense. Maybe Ghost would fix up your car like last time so you wouldn’t have to fork over a fortune at the dealership downtown. 

You can’t hide the small smile that comes at the idea. Simon pretended to be such a grump all the time, but he had his moments.

Coming to a full stop, you turn the car to park and look outside through the deluge. 

“At least that hasn’t changed,” You utter, breath fogging the window as lashes of rainwater race down the glass, “It still looks as perfect as ever.” 

The house was brightly lit, painted white, and had a large Oak door in the center. In the front, there was a black iron fence with a small gate and a latch. Looking, a prickly sensation enters your body and your fingers twitch over the wheel inexplicably. Your eyes run from one window to the other, all with warm light streaming out from behind the curtains, and furrow. With one hand you go to itch at your nose.

Why were all the lights on anyways? It’s like ten at night…Not the point, I’m stalling.

“Just go and speak to him,” You mutter to yourself, nodding firmly. But your lungs contracted in your ribcage in blatant retaliation. 

You wished playing therapist with yourself was easier.

Turning off the car and stuffing the keys in your pants pocket, you unclipped your seatbelt and turned to grab your small carry bag. Since the Base was so close there was really no need to bring your duffel bag. You’d be back there tomorrow for de-briefings with Price anyways; writing out papers and sighing confidentiality documents until your eyes bled. Would John bring you tea this time to help you stay awake? Or would he give you that look that meant – ‘Go to sleep right now, or do I have to order you to your bed?’

John would give in occasionally, and sit with you as you worked. He would read, or, you would take a break and play trivia with him; sometimes you asked him to tell stories. You really liked his stories. 

On even rarer cases, when the contents of the report brought up bad memories that left your face blank, he would tell you one of his tales unprompted. Usually, after that warm and selfless event, you would wake up back in your bed without the knowledge of ever falling asleep at all. But there would always be a note. Handwritten on your nightstand. 

John Price hand wrote you notes on crappy lined paper with his chicken scratch lettering. You remembered blushing every time you got one and had your favorite memorized word for word. It had meant so much to get one, Leon never wrote letters. 

“Guess my stories are more boring than I knew, Love, you passed out nearly immediately into the first one. Do me a favor, yeah, and sleep in today? Don’t worry about morning drills. I’ve already dismissed you. Sleep tight. 

– John”

Clenching your jaw, you shake your head and close your eyes. Thinking about seeing him tomorrow makes you sick.  

More opportunities to make a fool of myself and cause him to hate me. God, I fucking slammed a door in his face because I couldn’t get a grip. What’s wrong with me? He doesn’t deserve that.

You can’t keep living like this anymore, you try to tell yourself as you dig through your bag. Grabbing your phone, you’re about to shove it in your pocket beside the keys when it lights up, showcasing the wallpaper of you and the boys on a past Op from years ago. 

Everyone had their full gear on, weapons around fronts, and armed to the teeth. Full of blood and other substances. 

It was your favorite picture and you even had it printed out on your nightstand at Base.

John had his arm over your shoulder, staring at you softly with his head covered by his hat – which had burn marks on it – as you pointed a finger into Gaz’s smug, smile-split, face. Soap’s laughing and holding his stomach as Ghost at his side has a hand to his masked face in exasperation. 

You blink in surprise at the text message from your Sergeant as it pops up.

“Soap’s texting me?” Your mind wonders, and you roll your eyes, “I already said I wasn’t going out.” Not looking and turning your phone off, you shove it in your pocket but can’t hide the small sense of annoyance, “I spent four months with the guy in Russia, sorry, but I need a break from him before my brain explodes.”

Opening the car door, you flinch as rain batters your head and stains your clothes, but you just swing your bag over your shoulder and slam it shut behind you. Locking it with the fob, you make your way quickly to the front door, slipping past the metal gate without mishap and jogging over the lawn to the two front steps. Scaling them, you stand under the portico and look behind you, gazing up and down the street. You watch for a moment the family who lives across the street – they were watching a movie in the living room, huddled on the couch. 

Jerking your head back, you take out your house key and insert it into the lock with a grim face. Twisting, your skin shivers once more as a bout of wind shakes your baggy clothes just as you hear the familiar click of the front door unlocking. 

But that damn lamp. Grandma’s lamp. And John’s blue eyes filled with concern for you. His hands. 

When had this place stopped being home for you?

“Just speak to him,” You repeat a second time, gripping the doorknob, “Get it over with like an adult and forgive each other…” 

You clench your jaw and wrench the door open, shaking your head to dispel the water weighing the locks down like a wet dog. Stepping inside with heavy feet, you close the door quietly behind you and lock it. 

“Leon…?” You wonder out loud, slipping your gaze from the empty couch to the blaring TV as you slip off your boots. Muttering under your breath you add, “Where are you?”

“--And in more local news, the grand opening of the downtown café “Four Horseman” has wracked in a whopping profit of–”

Your fingers flicked off the news, the woman’s voice suddenly halting from the speakers. Frowning, your ears twitch. 

What’s that noise?

“Oh, Leon!” Freezing, your legs tense, hands at your sides gradually tightening into fists. Blinking in surprise, your heart begins to pump adrenaline through your veins with the efficiency of a racehorse. You don’t know that voice, “Just like that!”

But you weren’t stupid.

A certain type of dread infects your brain that leaves your mouth opening in shock; eyebrows peeling back to travel up your forehead. Before you tell yourself that it was better just to leave the house now, while your mind is unbroken, you can’t stop your already moving feet. 

You barrel down the hallway to get to the master bedroom, where you shove on the already partially open barrier with a heavy slam. Rage burns in your gut, spreading like a disease into the thin tissue and bleeding out; proliferating with relentless reach.  

Leon was over a random girl in your bed, half-naked and pants already being dragged down his hips by feminine legs. The woman was already bare, perfect skin glowing in the low light of red candles. 

Your rage freezes with a layer of thin ice, and your heart hammers. Sweat gathers in your clenched palms as the stranger’s scream enters the room. Both were already watching you in horror. Leon halts his actions of being knuckle-deep in the girl – the woman had seen you and snapped her hands to the ruined sheets of your bed to try and cover herself with a desperate scream.

“Leon?!” She yells out, face becoming bright as the scent of expensive perfume makes your nose twitch, “Who the fuck is that?!” 

Blankly, you turn your head to look at your boyfriend – former boyfriend. 

“Yeah, Leon,” You’re surprised by the firmness of your voice, the dead tone hurled out with no remorse. It betrays how you really feel. Tears burn the backs of your eyes, and your lungs hurt when you suck in quiet breaths to help your composure, “Do you wanna explain who I am? Or just how you’re fucking another woman on our bed.”

Leon’s eyes are comically wide, mouth agape and fluttering. Cruel satisfaction brews in your heart as your lips flicker into a dark smirk; anger was better than tears, you decided. 

“Our bed?! You said you were single!” The woman gasps, snapping her head to the man still above her, “Get the hell off me!” 

Shoving Leon, you watch the girl scramble to grab her clothes all over the floor as she apologizes to you. 

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that he had–”

“Just get out, please,” You mutter under your breath, and the lady zips past with her shirt only half on and her bra hooked between her fingers. 

“Baby,” Leon looks like he’s about to cry, getting to his knees on the mattress and you catch a glimpse of his boxers with cows printed on them. 

Before you had found those enduring – maybe even cute in a dorkish sort of way – but now you realized it was just pathetic. He was pathetic.

“Baby, I swear this isn’t what it looks like!” His fingers are glistening, and his pants are stained. 

You blankly stare at the stranger who inhabits your ex’s body and say nothing back; watching as Leon scrambles for an explanation that changes nothing. There was an absence of anything you loved in this house. 

“Hope it was worth it,” Blankly speaking, you turn around and leave, feet slamming into the floor as Leon calls to you pleadingly. 

“Please! I didn’t–” His voice cuts out as a thump echoes over the home, like someone falling out of a bed before a yelp takes its place. Not slowing, you slip your boots on and unlock the front door. 

Just as fast footsteps rush to the foyer you slam the door behind your back and descend the steps, no longer caring about the rain as you walk in a trance-like state. It hadn’t really hit you yet what had happened, but it was starting too. 

Your breath was getting thinner, hands shaking as your shoulders hunched and waterfalls down your face and neck. The bag over your shoulder is now ten times heavier than it was before.

The door slams open just as you exit the black-iron gate and unlock your car.

“Babe, come back inside, let's talk about this!” Leon screams, and his bare feet seem to slap over the drowned lawn, “You just need to sit down and I’ll speak and explain why I’ve been sleeping with Maxine!”

Your hand freezes on the car handle, slick metal stuck under your grip. 

You whirl around with fire in your eyes, lips snarling.

“Sleeping!?” With your face contouring, your loud voice carries over the storm as Leon – who had gotten quite close by now – reels back a step, “As in this has happened before, you goddamn prick?! How long have you been cheating on me while I’ve been risking my fucking life to get back home to you?!”

Leon’s face twists as you look him in the eyes, nose scrunching.

“Oh, don’t stay on your high horse,” He growls, hands animating his words as you try and keep your cool, “We both know you’ve been cheating far longer than I have.”

“Do we?!” It’s past the point of sense now, and the other lights from the once-dark houses begin flickering their outside lights on from all the noise, “I’ve never fucked anyone while I was out, Leon. You can’t say that, can you?!” 

“You don’t need someone to stick their dick in you to cheat. You’re just as bad as me – John Price must be one helluva guy to ruin a relationship that started when we were teenagers.”

Your breath stutters, and after a moment of shocked silence you shake your head in disbelief, “You’re a bastard, Leon…I wish I’d never met you. Wish I’d never wasted my time with a pathetic man like you. Maybe John is one helluva guy, hm? Maybe I’ll have to tell him that myself.”

Leon’s eyes were red, and his lips, just like yours, quivered as he tried to come up with an answer. You turn around before you can sob and reach for the door once more. 

A heavy weight settled on your arm, your Ex’s fingers suddenly squeezing your skin so hard your lips let loose a muted gasp. Trying to rip your arm away, you tilt your head to look back at Leon.

“Let go of me,” You say the words slowly, feeling rainwater travel down the bridge of your nose and splash to your shoulder, “Now.”

Leon’s hand only tightens, and you hiss, feeling blood vessels pop under the pressure.

“You’re coming back inside and you’re going to listen to what I tell you,” Leon leans closer, eyes dark, “I’m not taking ‘no’ for an–”

Your fist connects with his cheek, and a second later you’re nursing your sensitive knuckles, shaking out your hand and grimacing. Whining reminiscent of a wounded duck rips over the night, and, gripping at his face, Leon lays on the ground half-naked and less of a man than he’d ever been – which was an achievement, to say the least. 

You should have broken up with him years ago. John would never treat you like this.

Getting into your car, you sit down and lock the doors behind you as you insert the key, twisting and feeling it jerking to life. With morbid curiosity, you turn to the opposite window and look at the house across the street.

The family was at the window, no longer enraptured by their TV, and the mother had a hand over her mouth. She was in the process of turning her children away from the scene as the other parent stood watching, slack-jawed. 

Blinking, you don’t know if it’s tears or rain that you’re forcing away from your eyes, but the burning tells you which option you should put your money on. Wiping at your face and sucking down shuddering breaths, you press on the pedal and peel away from the white house with a large Oak door. Taking a peak at the mirror, you spy a man trying to get back to his feet but stumbles, falling once more and slamming into a puddle. 

Driving, you only make it to the next street before you park on the side of the road, your whole body shaking and gasping for breath. With the adrenaline dying down, the pain in your arm becomes prominent, making pain spark as you shift it. The area would most likely bruise. 

Your lips twist and a small whimper leaves your mouth. You smack your forehead to the wheel, hands falling like lead to your lap as a sniffle weasels its way out; tears begin to smack your thighs, gradually increasing until you were concerned your car would flood. 

Crying was never your thing. With all the sights you’d seen, tears felt so small compared to every other horror – they meant nothing in the grand scheme of events taking place. All they were good at was making your nose run and your skin get hot. 

John’s seen me cry before, Your thoughts are running so fast it’s a strange circumstance that they stop when your Captain’s name is filtered through. 

Price had found you in the bathroom, covered in dried blood and shaking just as you were in the present. There had been an accident on the recent Op – a kid had gotten caught in the crossfire and had taken a bullet to the stomach. You had held him as he died; seen the light in his eyes leave in one fell swoop as you drowned in his blood trying to stop the bleeding.

That was what led up to you rushing off the Helo, finding the first bathroom on Base, and rushing inside to throw your guts up. John, of course, had followed close at your heels with fast feet.

“Love,” He said from outside the door slowly, “I’m coming in.” 

Shell-shocked, your hands were strained as you gripped the sides of the toilet, not even picking up on the concern leaking from his tone. Wide-eyed, you stare blankly at the vile contents inside the bowl – throat burning with acid as the image of that dying kid plays on repeat. 

The door opens hesitantly as if any major noise would break you, the hinges squeaking. A pair of feet carefully pad over the tile towards your hunched figure. When his hand slides over your back, his shadow comes to encompass you, shrouding you in its comforting darkness. He made it better.

John’s grip slides back and forth over the gear and other objects along your figure. You hadn’t bothered to take anything off, in fact, your gun was still strapped around your chest and weighing you down. It hit against the toilet with a ‘clink’ every time you moved.

“Sweetheart?” John mutters, body curling around yours.

“He wasn’t supposed to be there,” You say the words numbly as you glance at the blood on your hands with muted horror, “I…I…He should have been with the other civilians. He wasn’t…”

“I know,” Price whispers, grunting, watching you as your mind breaks to try and think through this, “I know, Love.”

When he knows your stomach has settled, you feel him carefully grab your shoulders and lean you back against the opposite wall. It was like a ramshackle hug, but the feeling of his body pressing into yours made you fall limp. You were safe here. Protected. His fingers go to your weapon, taking it off of you and setting it on the ground as he knees at your side. Soon after goes the combat vest, John pulling at the velcro with confidence. Your body jerks as he peels it off. 

“Lift your arms for me, yeah?” Doing as he says, the article is set by your gun and pushed aside, “Attagirl, just like that.”

The man keeps a hand on your arm, rubbing his thumb back and forth. He was closer than he needed to be, but that was alright. 

Looking down, your thousand-yard stare locks to the blood staining your skin, getting stuck in the grooves and the beds of your nails. Would water even wash it off? You had wondered in silent panic. What if it never came off? John’s other hand gravitates to your cheek and the increased sound of your breath is accented by a sharp inhale.

Blinking to push back the nothingness of your gaze, tears dribble from your tear ducts as your eyes lock with his. 

John looked so sad. 

His expression was pained, lips downturned and eyes painfully narrowed on your form; his eyebrows were pressed in on his forehead, curing in the center and creating creases over his flesh. The beard – still filled with dirt and grime – moved as his lips did.

“Focus on me, alright?” You nod, shakily, and watch his optics flick from one part of your face to another, “That wasn’t your fault.” 

“John,” You whimper, the dam breaking every moment his fingers move and caress your skin. His grip travels to the back of your neck and brings your face to his shoulder, letting you sag into him on a dirty bathroom floor. 

“It’s okay,” He mutters into your hair, lips moving as your hands snap to dig into his vest. His hat was pressing into your scalp – grounding you in the present just as his heartbeat was. The muscle was strong in his chest, pounding, “It’s all gonna be alright, Kid. I need you to know it wasn’t your fault,” John sighs, trying to draw you closer, “You did the best you could. I’m proud of you.”

“He wasn’t supposed to be there,” You sob, and repeat the sentence once more, like, if you did, whatever God out there would bring the boy back to life. Your lips pull back in pain, wails exiting. 

“I know,” John responded, voice so low your sounds of anguish almost covered it up. His grip tightens, and he lays a kiss on the top of your head. 

You knew, then, that John would give anything to take away your pain. But what he didn’t know was that you would replay his words in your mind to stave off the nightmares – use the image of his face to bring you stability when you woke up mid panic attack. 

It was the only time you didn’t hate crying, because John’s warmth had made it better. Had made it mean something. 

You both spend a long time on that bathroom floor.

When you had spent at least an hour collecting your thoughts in that frigid car, you finally checked your phone. 

Fifty-seven missed calls and thirty-five texts from Leon. Chuckling humorlessly and shaking your head in disbelief, you block him with a quick tap; it was over. You’re about to chuck the phone and go back to Base, but then you pause, eyes locking on a single text notification left on the screen.

Soap: If ya change your mind….’Bottom’s Up Bar’… ;)

He lists the address just below, and your eyes bore into it.

“Fuck it,” Your hoarse voice echoes out in the cool car air, “I need a drink anyways.”

—

Price sits on the bar stool in a black woolen trench coat and a dark beanie, nursing a glass of whisky in his hands that rests against the counter. 

“What’s with the long face, Captain,” Gaz sits at his side, the stools under them uncomfortable and threatening to give out from under them if one happens to take too deep a breath. Soap and Ghost are over playing pool, and the TV behind the counter was showing reruns of some hockey game that was absent of watchers. No one else was there beside them, “Whisky not up to par?” 

“It tastes like piss water,” John mutters but still brings the glass to his lips, taking a slow sip, “But I’ve had worse, Sergeant. You?” 

Gaz smirks, “I’ve had worse…Just tell Soap that I’m never letting him pick the bar ever again. Man’s bloody taste buds must be burned off if he calls this quality.” 

John grunts, tilting his head to the side in an affirmative nod. 

The area lapses into silence, the sound of billiard balls connecting to a cue stick loud as the smell of tobacco and cheap beer perforated the air. There weren’t any civvies left in the old-style building, and outside the rainstorm pounded against the front windows deterring anyone from venturing outside. The group probably should have stayed on Base, but Johnny had been insistent to the point everyone just gave in to the Scot’s demands.

After all, what harm could one drink do? They were all tired.

“Do you think she’ll show?” Gaz asks as the TV erupts with cheers; someone had scored, apparently. The Captain was never one for hockey – Liverpool was his go-to for football teams, and that was about it. In fact, he had a game to catch up on later if he could get the hell out of here in a timely fashion.

Gaz’s question makes the man lightly startle, sliding his gaze to his Sergeant with a sharply raised brow. He brings the glass to his lips once more and takes a swig, missing out on the burn that was found in his own Whisky stash back at his flat in London. It’s not hard to tell who Gaz is talking about. 

“Unlikely,” John speaks through a sigh, going back to mindlessly watching the television as the bartender filters past to clean a table in the far corner. Soap cheers from the pool table, “Her…boyfriend’s making her dinner. Always does when she gets back.”

“Hm,” Gaz chuffs, “Lucky sod,” The Sergeant pauses, and John takes a deep breath at the mischievous tone the man beside him earns. It was too late at night for this bullshit, “I bet you wouldn’t mind having the girl in your home while you make her supper, eh, Cap?”

“Garrick,” Price says the last name slowly, fingers tightening over the cup on the table, “You want to be on sanitation duty for a month – two?”

“...Sir?” Letting out a nervous chuckle, Gaz sends a quick glance to Soap whose ears had quirked at the conversation a few feet away.

“Then I suggest you stop acting like a Muppet and mind your damn business. The girl is her own woman and deserves her privacy,” John sends a narrowed glance with a quirked eyebrow and a warning in his suddenly darker eyes, “Copy?”

“Copy, Sir…Apologies.”

“Don’t let it happen again,” John levels, twirling his glass in his large fingers before tossing back the last remnants inside. Swallowing, he stands and fixes the position of his beanie, feeling his bones creak with fatigue. 

To everyone at the bar, Price looked annoyed that you had been brought up, but those who knew him best could tell that much more was going on. The man had kept the side of his eye on the front door the entire time 141 had been at the bar, shoe tapping against the dark wood floors as hours passed. Even more telling, Gaz had noticed that John had only had one glass of Whisky tonight – even if it tasted horrible the Captain was bound to drink at least three when they all went out. 

It was tradition; everyone knew it. Captain Price of the 141 always had three glasses. Always. You would attest to that, considering that when you tagged along you made fun of him for it. 

“You always have three glasses – I’ve never, for the life of me, figured out why it's always three! Do you never think ‘Oh, gee golly, maybe I’ll bloody have another lad, be a merry good Muppet and pour me another, yeah?’’

Your horrendously exaggerated British accent led to a few snickers that night, and Gaz had seen his Captain’s full body laugh for the first time; watching John sputtering as he coughed down the drink he had been sipping from. 

“Love,” The man had stared at you with a deep smile, eyes crinkling, “Whatever just came out of your mouth, yeah? Never do that in my presence again. Accent’s shaken’ more than your hands when you have to stitch me up.” 

“My stitches aren’t that bad, Asshat! You just move too fucken’ much!”

John scratches his forehead in the present and brushes off his jacket. 

“Alright, Muppets…I think that’s it for the–” 

The bell at the front door jingles. 

Snapping his head over, Price freezes just as he sticks his hands in his jeans pockets, the grumbled words dying on his parted lips. 

A figure was standing at the entrance, soaked to the bone and shivering like a sphinx cat in a snowstorm; water dripped from her nose to the rug. John’s jaw slightly slackens, eyes wide and snapping back and forth. 

You were standing there, eyes gravitating from Soap and Ghost’s pool game – which had halted immediately at your sudden presence – until you blink a raindrop from your eyelashes and lock eyes with John. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Your voice sounds like gravel, Price notes, head slowly tilting to try and understand why His legs had to tense to stop him from rushing over, his training alerting him to the redness of your eyes. You had been crying, why? “Storm’s coming down pretty hard, huh?” Attempting a chuckle, it seems to fall flat.

“Holy shit, Love,” Gaz mutters, snatching a rag from behind the counter of the bar and ignoring the complaints from the worker. He rushes past John, who continues to stare at you and fight his own subconscious, “Did you walk here?”

The Sergeant blinks at you in concern, eyes filtering up and down your body as he stands close and holds aloft the fabric.

“Nah,” Price watched you snatch the towel, going to pat it on your face and neck – running it over your hair and gripping, “Was outside for a little bit, but I came in the car…Oh, speaking of that, Simon,” You turn to the large man who bores his eyes into your face, “The brakes are acting up again – you think you could fix it up back on Base in your free time?”

Ghost taps the cue stick against the ground, lips behind his balaclava shifting as he speaks, “You goin’ to make me fix it up every time you get back? What do I look like, Bird? A mechanic?”

A weak smirk flickers over your lips, but John notices a particular bleakness in your eyes. Soap, who thus far had been strangely quiet, looks at him with flat lips and a small shake of his mohawked head.

Enough is enough, Price decides with a stubble tilt of his forehead, I’ve given her the space she needs – she’s telling me everything. Tonight.

His jaw clenches, and he pulls his hands out of his pockets just to cross them over his chest when you respond to Simon.

“I’ll clean your clothes for a month.” 

“...Two.”

“Deal,” Nodding, you smile at Gaz in thanks and splay the towel over the banister beside you to help it dry, “Thanks, Gaz.”

“What happened to dinner with the Stoter?” Soap finally speaks as you make your way farther into the building. You send him a quick glance as you walk closer to John at the booth. The Scot levels you with a heavy stare, feet shoulder-length apart and jaw clicking, “He do something?” 

A tense silence falls, and all the men send each other looks as you slink to the bar, jumping up on a stool and clearing your throat. You itch at the side of your bicep as you lick your lips in hesitation. 

Why were you not saying anything?

John buries his fingernails into the meat of his arms, taking your lack of answer like a knife to the chest. It was like a switch had flipped as he saw your expression drop for a millisecond, layers cracking like you were barely held together. The veins in the Captain’s arms were flooded with blood, and his hands showed white knuckles. 

There was a terrible reality settling behind his eyelids, and the man wasn’t in his job position because he was anything less than an observer. He was angry, that much was obvious by his tight jaw and dangerous eyes on the side of your face. 

But there was something more important than revenge, and she was sitting right in front of him.

Your clothes are still dripping with water, and without hesitating when he spies you shiver, John shakes off his jacket and spreads it softly over your shoulders. When you jerk back in surprise he feels a part of him break, but steadies you with a thin quirk of his lips and pulls the front of the woolen material farther over your form.

What’s that fucken’ prat done to her? He growls internally, Mark my words…

The Captain’s eyes carefully narrow, orbs sliding over your face. His thumb goes to swipe a tear of water from your hairline and breathes out a sigh when your eyelids flutter.

Looking at your Captain with vulnerable eyes, you answer Soap’s question with a muttered, defeated, tone. It was like you were talking to your superior and not the man at the pool table.

“We...uh, I, broke up with him,” A moment of silence. Two. 

John feels like he’s frozen in time, his body stiff, and his lungs shell-shocked. But in the farthest, most forced-down bits of his consciousness, he thinks there’s a part of him that’s…Christ, is he happy?

He nearly has to turn and leave to take a breather – gain his composure at his own disgusting thoughts – but your eyes hold him captive, unblinking despite the revelation.

You had…broken up with Leon. Your boyfriend.

John’s eyes slowly widen. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

—

“Well, It’s about damn time,” Soap interjects into the moment, gleeful, and you feel your eyes slip away from the cerulean blues of John’s widened sockets, in favor of the table-top, “Erm, no offense, of course, but that’s great news!”

“Shut up!” Gaz hisses, going over to slap at MacTavish’s arm, “Can’t you see she’s bloody gutted about it – idiot!” 

“Hey, now. That excuse for a man was in no way worthy of being with a beauty like her–”

“Johnny,” Ghost utters lowly, the only one able to see your quickly deteriorating state besides the Captain who tries to comfort you, “Shut your trap.”

“C’mon L.t, you had to have seen how he…” Soap stops, finally looking at you, and the chuckle that had been building in his throat dissolved. 

A hand settles on your shoulder, and you blink out of your trance, slowly turning your head to look out of the corner of your eye. John squeezes, and you find that his grip over his gifted jacket is warmer than anything you remember. But you don’t look at his face, instead, you tilt your head down and fold your arms on the counter, slotting your skull in the middle of them. 

John’s hand gravitates to your back and rubs small circles, and above you, he mutters, “Talk to me, Love.”

“He…” You interrupt, hands tightening into fists. Your eyes burned something fierce, but you can just blame the shaking of your body on the wet clothes, “I was going to surprise him. He didn’t know that I was back in town yet, anyways. But, uh, he’s been cheating on me, I guess…Found ‘em in bed.”

Price’s hand stutters over its coarse, but he clears his throat and continues as your stomach tightens, 

“Son of a fucken’ bastard,” Simon’s the first one to speak – which would have surprised you if you’d been paying attention, “That prick did what?” 

Gaz murmurs, “Shit..,” off to the side, but your hidden gaze doesn’t bother to move as Soap lets off a string of curses and insults on Leon’s name. 

The hand over your back is intoxicating, and you feel drunk as you focus on it. John’s fingers dig into his jacket, but just enough for you to feel his nails create a light stimulation through the layers. There was a sense to his actions, you know. He was trying to ground you; he wanted you to focus on his caress. 

You didn’t want to admit how well it was working.

But it was a good thing he did because you have a feeling if he wasn’t there you’d be replaying the events of tonight in your mind one after the other like a fucked up movie.

Leon really did that, You suck in a shaky breath that leaves John moving closer, and you hear muttered conversations from above you, All of those years…Did I really miss something as obvious as him cheating on me? 

It couldn’t be helped.

When you came back from deployments your mind let go of the hyper-focus that was ingrained into you – that Price had ingrained into you – and settled into a haze of sanctity. Home meant food, sleep, and a place of comfort. But when the fighting started you suppose a part of that focus came back to you, blocking out everything that didn’t matter. 

Missing pictures, clothes stuffed where they shouldn’t be, your hair products hidden. They were pointless in the grand scheme of things because you were at battle in your own house. It was small compared to your breaking relationship. 

Maybe that’s when I stopped loving him, You reason, and it’s the first time you admit you didn’t care about Leon in that way anymore, When the fighting started. Did I unconsciously know what he’d done?

You had been more irritable when you were back at the house, some fights even instigated by you.

“But how did I miss it…?” You can’t help but whisper, strained, into the woodgrain of the counter in your cocoon. 

“None of that,” John suddenly says, voice low, and his hand over you halts, “That’s a good way to mess your head up, that is, Love. Just stay here.” 

Shivering, you sniffle, lungs stuttering and with a hot face stained with embarrassment, you whimper out, “I’m such an idiot.” 

The stool beside you screeches as it’s pulled out. 

“You say that again I’m leaving you on desk rotation for a week,” John grunts, and from your hiding place your head shifts, one eye peeking out from over your arm. You find the man glaring at you so heatedly you pause as tears start to leak down your cheeks once more, “I mean it. None of that bullshit – you are not at fault – that,” He pauses, and you see his chest sputter as he tries to collect himself. Price’s eyes flash with rage before it’s gone in an instant, “That’s the bloody bastard’s cross to carry, Love. Understand me?”

You stare at him; at his boiling blue eyes as the sound of a hockey game plays in the background of this shitty bar. The warm lights overhead gather in them to flicker like stars when he blinks, creating constellations for you to memorize when his eyelids once more pull back.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” He levels, head with that black beanie tilting closer, “Copy?”

“Copy,” You croak out, blinking to clear the fuzziness of your eyes. Reaching one of your hands, you pull the jacket closer around your neck. It smells like John, and whether you notice it or not, the tension in your muscles leaks when you inhale smoke, pine trees, and gunpowder. 

Patting you on the back, the man stares into you, optics stuck on the image of your tear-stained cheeks and dripping hair. His trench coat was most likely going to be soaked, but he found he didn’t care. If it brought you comfort, the outrageous price he paid for it would be made back tenfold. Maybe he’d even let you keep it; didn’t matter if it was his favorite, he would give you the shirt off his back if you asked for it. 

Not able to stop the words coming out of his mouth when you meet his gaze with fluttering eyelashes, John speaks once more as he feels the gazes of his teammates around him. But the words came easily.

“You didn’t deserve to come home to that. That boy doesn’t know what he’s just lost, alright?” When he sees your cheeks move in a small, barely-there smile, and the way your eyes lit with embers at his teasing tone, the Captain let a smirk of his own fall. But he still refused to speak Leon’s name aloud – his own anger was held on a thin string that was fraying by the moment. You? Getting cheated on? Who in their right mind would do that?! The Muppet didn’t deserve to have your perfect ears twitch at his name ever again, “At least tell me you ripped him a new pair, Love? If not, I’ll have to review your training exercises. Maybe add in a bracket for hand-to-hand.”

“...I might have sucker-punched him.”

John’s chuckle is velvet as it slips through your eardrums. 

“Attagirl, I’d have paid to see that, I wager. Everyone knows you throw a heavy hand,” Your giggle makes his heart soar; beat violently in his breast.

He’d give everything to hear you make that noise again. 

“Did it down him?” Your head slowly peaks up farther, perfect chin now visible. Your short-lived tears had stopped.

“Twirled like a dancer on a string.”

“Bloody brilliant, my girl. Bloody fucken’ brilliant.” Nodding, John smiles, beard pulling back to show pearl-white teeth, and claps your shoulder.

You love the way he makes you feel, like everything you do is well-thought-out and not just spur of the moment. Creasing your eyelids, you rub at your cheeks to try and wipe away the heat of them, knowing that wouldn’t work but still trying. John made your brain pump with dopamine, giddiness striking you in the chest like a bullet with a simple smile and his hand on your back. 

…Why was his hand still on your back? 

“This place got any good drinks?” You ask, trying not to look so entranced by the man in front of you. 

John’s grip slips away and you hate that you want to snatch at it; feel the calluses burn your skin and dig into sensitive flesh. Breaking up with Leon had given you an adrenaline spike, one that lasted so long you were still riding it – only just now was the raging of your heart beginning to still.

It was a bad thought, you told yourself, a horrible thought to have right now…but damn it if John didn’t look like the solution to all of your problems, that yearning urge to feel good.

Leon was gone.

“Hm,” Your Captain murmurs, and your trailing eyes snap from his tight athletic shirt to his face. John turns himself to the front, grunting and setting his elbows on the counter, he lifts one finger up into the air to the frowning bartender and sends you a glace, “Unfortunately, MacTavish picked a place before I could verify,” The bartender thumps over and the Captain confidently says, “One Old Fashioned for the lady, and a refill for me, yeah?”

The bartender's eyebrows furrow, “Old Fashioned? What the hell is that?”

John’s body stills, and his face blanks as if he’s been personally offended. Laughing, you move back from the counter, hopping off the stool and going to stand near your Captain. Resting a hand on his shoulder, you tilt your head when his full attention whips to you. 

His eyes glance at your hand before they settle; softening around the cold edges as the pupils widen. You nearly lose your breath at the sight…It made you want to snatch that hat off his head and make him chase you down for it; hold you to his chest and squeeze.

Stop it.

“I think I’m gonna head back to Base,” You say aloud, “Hang out in the Rec room and go to bed early. Maybe get a headstart on reports for tomorrow,” Looking back at the boys, you begin taking off Price’s trench coat, small hesitations in your nerves showing how much you wanted to keep it around you. But you needed to leave – clear your head without John’s scent making you hazy, “Don’t stay out too long, boys, I’m not coming to drag you back.” 

“Yes, Ma’am,” Simon utters, knocking a billiard ball and watching the ricochets. He sends you a guarded look, numb eyes running over you, “Drive safe. Weathers looken’ like it's letting up, but don’t trust it.”

“Right,” You nod. You know what he really means.

Gaz is watching you and sending quick glances to Soap with his dark eyes, and you see the Scot clenching his stick with a white-knuckled grip – blue eyes glaring at the table with a clenched jaw and tensing biceps. Like he was itching to lay someone on the ground and wale on them.

Your lips twitch. Soap had been by your side for four months; watching your back just as you had his. That creates a bond of brotherhood that can’t be overlooked. The stocky man was perhaps more upset about this ordeal than you were, now that you thought about it. The Task Force didn’t even know the extent of your fights with Leon – they’d kill him if they did. 

If you even mentioned your Grandma’s lamp, the boys would rip your Ex apart. 

“Suds,” Calling out, you fold John’s jacket over your arm. Soap whips his head to you, blinking back to focus.

“Yeah, Little Lady. You need something?”

“I need you to stop strangling the Cue Stick. You’re gonna break it before Simon can beat you, and that would just be embarrassing,” Soap stares at you, mouth slightly open, before he snaps to his iron grip and unclenches his hand. 

“R-right,” The Scot’s eyes crease, and he itches at his mohawk with his free hand. A pause, “Are you…alright?”

You hesitate, looking to the floor as your feet shuffle before your right yourself, “I will be.” 

Turning to John, you hold out your arm and feel heat on the tips of your ears when he’s already meeting your line of sight.

“Sorry about the water,” Trying not to let out a weak chuckle, you fail, “It looked pretty expensive just to be ruined by me. I’ll pay you for the dry cleaning bill.”

Price grunts, already shaking his head and lightly gripping you by the arm to push the jacket back to you. He stands up and you suck in a quick breath, nose nearly brushing his peck from how close you both were.

“You’ll need it,” Your eyebrows crease, not understanding, as he smirks at you, “What kind of Captain would I be if I let you drive back alone after all this?” John grumbles, shaking his head and pulling out his wallet, “I’m driven’ that’s an order.” 

He tosses a fifty on the table for the bill and nods to the boys over your head, an authoritative tone leaking out. You don’t move away from him, letting his body heat leave you shivering and taking in shallow breaths. Try as you might, your mouth denies to refuse him.

“Be back on Base by 0100 and up for drills at 0500. It’s your fault if you Muppets only get five hours of sleep,” John lays a hand behind your shoulder blades and you let him guide you to the door, “Soap – you’re due for debriefs at 0800 in my office. I expect you to be punctual.”

A quiet grunt carries over the space.

You slip on the jacket, clearly seeing that John wouldn’t let up on this. Maybe…maybe you wouldn’t mind the company of the large-bodied Captain. Already the pain of being cheated on was dull when he was around. But would you be able to focus if he was right by you like this? You doubted it.

Slapping Gaz on the shoulder as you pass him, he sends you a soft look and utters, “Get some sleep, Love, alright? It’ll all be better in the morning. I’ll make sure the boys are back at Base soon so you don’t have to worry about ‘em.”

“Thanks, Garrick. Means a lot. I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“You bet.”

“Behave, Sergeant,” John makes it to the door, opening it for you and feeling the draft enter, “Ghost,” The manchester man tilts his covered head from where he stands bent over the pool table, “watch these two, yeah?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Hey–!” 

“What in the–!” 

Price lets the door slam shut and whispers past your smile-split face, watching through the window as Soap and Gaz level offended gazes out at the Captain through the racing raindrops on the glass. Simon stands a bit straighter and once again scores on Johnny. 

“They’re going to hold a grudge for weeks, John. Putting Ghost in charge of them when they’re on leave? Really? He’s never going to let the two live it down,” You say above the rain as you lead him to where your car is parked on the street, cheekiness littering your words.

“Let ‘em,” Price scoffs, and you feel his hands go to the jacket, puffing the collar up for you. Blinking away the rain, you smile shyly at the action, “not goin’ to change that they still have to get up tomorrow. After a twenty-mile run, I’m sure they’ll be too knackered to care, eh?”

“Hm,” You affirm, envisioning the future in your head with sadistic pleasure, and reach into your pocket. Tossing your keys into the air, John catches them effortlessly with a fast fist, only a small clink of the metal connecting heard.  

You feel his eyes on you as you walk down the street, steadying you with a hand on your back even if he knew you were capable of walking by yourself. Above all, John was a gentleman – whenever you were with him, he always walked near the road, kept a hand in the small of your back, and watched the street with roaming eyes.

This was the first time you’d felt his gaze completely set on you. Had he always done that? No, you knew, but recalled something from the back of your mind as you side-stepped a puddle, moving closer to John unconsciously. His hand’s weight becomes more prominent, angling you into his hold. 

After Madagascar was when he had started looking at you more often...you had thought it was because of the injury, but was it?

Shaking away the thought, you quickly make it to your car and leave Price’s steady side, hand resting on the handle. The familiar sound of the lock clicking open has you rushing inside to escape the pitter-patter of rain on your skull. Snapping the door shut, John in the driver’s seat does the same.

You both look at each other, and can’t help the chuckles at the disheveled looks you both share.

“Wind-swept hair would look dashing on you, Captain,” You tease, nose crinkling as you shake your head. The beanie on the man’s head was weighed down and John grimaces at the feeling, glaring up at it before peeling it off his head. 

His free hand goes to his hair, ruffling it to dispel some of the water. 

“Bloody rain,” He mutters, sparing you a look only to find you’re watching intently with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

A tension grows, and for the first time, you don’t push the feeling away. Your smirk slowly slips, going slack as you watch water drip from John’s nose. The world outside the car seems to blur, and nothing but the pair of you exist in this state of perpetual stillness. John’s eyes are such a shade of blue you have to wonder if you could ever look at the ocean again and not think of him, or even smell smoke on the street and not search him out. 

You shouldn’t be feeling like this about him, but how could you not?

“You’re staring, Love,” John mutters, and you blink, shocked, but the man makes no move to stop looking right back at you in turn. His beard shifts as his jaw moves, bristles accented by the light of the street lamps.

“Well, so are you,” Teasing, you send a nervous smile before shifting away to clip your seatbelt in place. 

His hand stops you halfway, covering your own with a large grip as his fingers glide over your skin leaving white-hot sparks. Freezing you watch as Price’s hand squeezes yours and helps you lock the seatbelt into the clip. The man’s hand stays there a moment longer as you, wide-eyed, feel your fingers twitch under his; memorizing the feel of them.

“Thank you, John,” You breathe, and your grip moves, turning to capture his own and curl his fingers into yours. He flinches, before loosening and he studies your face, cerulean blue jumping from one spot on your visage to another, “For everything.” 

The man’s body stills and he blinks down at you. His breath is shallow, rattling in his chest. Something was in his eyes you couldn’t name.

“...Anytime, Dear.”

Price’s hand falls from your hold and leaves to gravitate toward the keys in the ignition. He twists them, and immediately the shaking of the car tells you it’ll survive one more day. Settling farther into John’s jacket you nuzzle your head into the fabric, curling your arms around your middle and resting your eyes. You try to calm your raging heart as the car peels out into the road, breathing through the stuffy air that smells so much like the two of you.

The ride to Base is quiet, but not at all like the kind of silence that had suffocated you on the journey back to Leon’s home – this was a comforting silence. Once you might not have understood what that meant. After all, how could a lack of sound leave your eyelids heavy and a floating feeling in your head? 

When the parking garage gate opened, you had blinked awake. 

Did I fall asleep? Rubbing at your eyes, the crick in the back of your neck told you all you needed to know. Groaning, a small chuckle to your side leaves you turning to face John, who carefully drives down the ramp as you swallow down the dryness of your throat. 

“Sleep well?” He raises an eyebrow, observing out ahead of him.

You scoff in retaliation and don’t answer as John picks a free spot and parks.

“Let’s get you to bed, then,” Your ears twitch at his low tone and the rumble like a lullaby in his chest. Was he trying to put you back to sleep?

He gets out of the car and goes to your side as you continue to wake up, opening the door and unclipping your seatbelt. 

“Steady,” John whispers, taking your hand and helping you out as your yawn, “I’ll give your keys back tomorrow afternoon, eh? You’ll lose ‘em like last time if I hand ‘em over to ya’ now.”

“Will not,” You retaliate, stumbling over nothing and causing your face to heat when John smiles, eyes crinkling in a tease.

“Will…You’ll get them back tomorrow. That’s that,” Grumbling, you huff but stay by his side as you both go to the main entrance, sliding past the door and nodding to the guard posted for watch duty. 

“Captain, Ma’am,” The guard greets and a second later you’re both striding down the dimmed hallways with John sending you glances every so often.

“What is it, Captain?” Asking after it becomes too prominent to ignore, you send him a small smile, “I know I look like shit but I can’t be that bad to the point you have to ogle me.” 

John’s face snaps forward and he clears his throat, hands going to slide into his pockets. You pull his jacket closer, eyes turning to silk. 

He’s cute when he’s flustered.

“...Just makin’ sure you’re not going to pass out before you get back to your Barracks,” He blinks, and a blush hidden under his beard makes his ears turn red. You notice with a start that he had left his soggy hat in your car and that his messy hair made him look like he had gotten into a catfight. It was…an attractive look on him, to say the least, “...and you don’t look like shite, Sweetheart. You’re a beauty no matter what happens. Don’t say that about yourself.”

Your breath catches, and in that moment of struggling to breathe, you can only let out a tiny, “Oh, o-okay,” and try to walk straight as butterflies litter your stomach. 

Did…did he call me beautiful? John called me beautiful.

A true, giddy, smile flickers over your lips even as you try to force it down; and just as simple as that, any hurt that Leon had left behind disappears. Everything is replaced by John’s large frame, blue eyes, and grunted words.  

You get to your room and open the door, standing in the opening with dizzy thoughts. Turning around with a content expression, you’re forced to take a deep breath when your nose almost connects with a firm chest. Standing straighter, you snap your head up to find John towering above you, body heat melting into you and causing a reactionary shiver.

“John…?” You ask, head straining to stare at his down-turned face. Something lies hidden behind his eyes, flashing every so often as his gaze narrows. It was the same look as the one in the car, “What are you…?” His lips are thin, and something swirls in your gut when you see how his muscles tense. He’s holding something back.

If you moved any closer your breasts would brush against him, and under your water-heavy sweatshirt, your nipples harden at the idea.

Stop it, You warn yourself, but when he’s looking at you like that – bathed in the hallway light with wrecked hair and widened pupils – you can’t help the way your body reacts to his. Not anymore. 

Leon was gone.

“You mind if I come in, Darling?” Your Captain’s raspy voice sings to your heart, pulse skipping a beat, “Wouldn’t want you to be alone right now, understand me?” 

Taking a shallow breath, your hands at your sides start shaking, subtle actions making it all the more apparent of the growing fire. 

You should say no. Tell him it wasn’t appropriate. But…there was no hiding the attraction you had for Price, not when your boyfriend was out of the picture. You should be mourning the lost relationship of your high school sweetheart, not just hopping into another confusing situation with your fucking superior! 

Frowning, your shoulders hunch. If you said yes – which you really wanted to – that was the final signature on your self-respect and dignity. It would mean a whole stack of paperwork and many late nights. You could lose your job, get John kicked off the Task Force and demoted, the list was endless. 

“Your thoughts are too loud,” Price comments, and he smiles down at you as your eyes widen, tension leaking away as you focus on his words like law, “It’ll be alright. You can say no if you want. You know that. It won’t hurt me.”

But it would, wouldn’t it, because it would hurt you too.

It was more than what was on the surface – the tension in the car that had festered ever since Madagascar told you already what would happen if you let him in. This had been the result of a number of years of pinning building one day after another into a mountain of need and lust. But there had always been a barrier in the way. Leon.

But Leon was gone now; where did that leave you with this stone in your stomach and a want to be with a man you now knew wanted you back?

And John was still giving you an out if you wanted it. A layered warning that this wasn’t the smartest decision for either of you. 

“John,” You breathe, “I shouldn’t.”

“No, you shouldn’t. Neither should I.” 

So that was ultimately why you grabbed his shirt, dragged him into your room, and finally smashed your lips to his. 

John’s arms immediately wrap around your body and peel back his jacket from your form, kicking the door behind him closed so hard the wall rattles. You help, letting him grab the cuff and rip it off as your lips dance in needy kisses that leave your teeth clacking together and air falling from fast breaths. 

His tongue runs over your lip and you open your mouth readily, not caring about how the floor’s going to form a puddle from the soaked jacket or the other water-clogged clothes when they inevitably hit the floor as well. John’s kiss was so intoxicating that when you first felt his hands steady you around your waist you pulled back in surprise, a trail of saliva leaving the two of you connected before it broke. 

“John, we shouldn’t,” You say, breathless as air is sucked back into your red, shiny, lips. It was useless trying to convince yourself that this wasn’t what you wanted since you met him. Maybe Leon was right. Maybe you had been cheating this entire time. A traitorous, cheating, heart.

“No, we shouldn’t,” John growls out, accent far more prominent at that moment than ever before as his eyes darken; boring into your tissue to peel back the layers of your mind until all that remains is him. His lips were so red and shiny you wanted to bite them, “But I couldn’t bloody give a damn.” 

His face once more slammed into yours, and one hand travels to the back of your head, firm. But, if you wished for it, it would leave in a millisecond and you could pull away without a word. All of this could end in a second and John or yourself would never bring it up again; forgetting the unprofessionalism and the way your body reacted to the swipe of his tongue over yours. The sounds you two were making were enough to make you cum right there – the panting, wet kissing. It was improper, dirty, but, beyond all of that…utterly addicting. How high he made you feel needed to be studied, you reasoned, no one could be like this. 

Your hands snapped to his chest and you dig your nails into his shirt, dragging down and feeling his body jolt and squirm. John’s hand on your head tightened as you devoured each other, weaving into your hair as your fingers fall to latch onto his side, feeling the muscle tense and the man groan into your gasping mouth. His pelvis thrusts involuntarily, hitting your thigh.

The way he shutters against you leaves your legs rubbing firmly together as a pounding echoes in your navel. John drags you closer to him.

It seemed you made your decision, but you had a funny feeling you won’t regret it.

Heaving like a wounded animal, John peels back to twist you around, back connecting with the wall as his lips immediately hook onto your neck, saliva dripping down your pulse point in a long, slick, path. A wanton whimper leaves when you feel his beard scrape over your sensitive skin, leaving sparks in its wake that travel directly to your lower body. Using his right foot, the man shoves your legs apart, where you had them previously clenched together and pooling in hot, contained, desire.

“Don’t worry, Love,” He whispers, biting at your ear as your eyes flutter when he slides his thigh in between your splayed legs. You can’t help the loud moan you make when he snaps the thick portion of him up into your core and even through your pants you feel the instinctual, animalistic, urge to roll your pelvis. Fuck, you wanted to ride his thigh, come undone while he watched with those unwavering blues of his, “I’ll take care of you. Make you forget all about that poor bastard. Bloody prick doesn’t even know what he’s lost, but I nearly should thank him for it, yeah?”

“John,” You don’t know what you want, mind a hazy mess as one of your hands snaps to his head just like how he held yours and pulled at the strands tightly. Are you drunk? You feel drunk?

His hand on your thigh forces you to press down into his knee as he grunts in approval of your deteriorating state when you writhe with pleasure at the sensation.

“That idiot just gave me the best damn woman he ever could. Fucken’ fool, he is,” He’s muttering into your ear, head pressed into the wall, as your self-respect flies out the window at his next words, “I’ll fuck you better than he did, Love. C’mon, use me like I’ve wanted you to,” Your hips rut over the substitute for his dick with desperation to stimulate your needy clit, head rocking to the side in a heavy trace of puffing breaths. 

Already the room was heating up, beginning to lose the scent of cinnamon from your old candle and reeking of sweat and carnal urgency.

“Just like that,” John whispers, words slow as the sensation of his tongue licking a stripe over your skin makes you pant and keen. Small jolts of pleasure run from the hard bud hidden behind wet layers, “Steady…Keep your head still.”

He goes back to leaving hickeys on your neck, and through your haze, you know he’s not thinking about how you’ll have to try and hide them tomorrow. John wants people to see the love bites, how they bruise purple and blue all over your throat and under your ear. He lays one on the junction of your shoulder and neck, and your eyes roll at the caress of a hot tongue and immediate sharp teeth digging into flesh a moment later; shuttering.

You hope he leaves some beard burn behind.

That's when you rip his head away by gripping his hair like a vise and then slam it into yours, shoving your tongue so far down his throat you listen to his chest rattle with shock at the action. 

His knee jerks up, and you gasp with nerves that sizzle with lighting and a pool of slick in your core that leaks like a river before a strained plea is said into John’s maw, “Do that again.”

Your Captain doesn’t say anything, but his body shakes with need before doing what you ask. You could feel how hard he was through his pants as the weight digs into your stomach. The knowledge that you would get to feel him inside of you, stretching you open, served to confirm the fact that you would have to throw these panties away tomorrow. 

God, he felt huge, thick, and firm.

John begins to jump his knee up and down, jolting your body as he pulls back to watch with awe at your body’s reaction; setting his forehead against yours. Whining, your back arches, and your shoes brush against the ground every other motion. Every movement sends your nerves alight. It was almost too much – oversensitivity threatening to pull you under with every perfectly angled jumping of your Captain’s knee. 

You slick was staining his pants, completely soaking all layers. 

“Fuck, look at you work, Love,” John was entranced as you got off on him, “Can’t believe that Bastard was getting this when you came back. See how soaked you’ve made me? Shit. Bloody temptress, you are.”

“Need you,” Your lips gasp out, legs shaking violently, “F-fingers. Inside. A-anything! Been wanting you for so long, John.” It was difficult to speak and focus on the pleasure at the same time, but you think he got the point. 

Your pants were too tight, clothes grating to feel on your flesh. You want John’s hands on you. Now. 

“Hm, what’s that?” Price grunts, still watching you move your clothed cunt against him with added fever. 

Annoyance swirls.

“John,” Your mouth snarls, and his face shifts to look back up at you, noses squished together as you breathly sigh at another well-angled jump. Price’s chest rumbles with satisfaction, “Fuck me like how you stroke your cock to the thought of me.”

A moment of shocked silence at your vulgar language.

“Copy.” At once his knee is gone, and you’re squeaking as he grabs you by the waist and the world spins and dances around you. 

John tosses you over his shoulder and the tension in your lower abdomen that had been building turns from a boil to a simmer. You’re about to complain before fingers begin working your shoe laces, tossing the boots off as the man strides to the bed in the corner. 

He lays a heavy slap to your ass that makes you yelp out and hit his back in return. The sparks left behind make your legs clench and your stomach tighten; your hands tear into his back. John chuckles, smoothing over the spot before his grip travels, grabbing onto the waistband of your cargo’s. Ripping them down to your ankles, you moan at the sudden cool air on your cunt and shutter. Anticipation pools to produce a second pulse inside of you, getting louder and more ruthless by the second.

You were so horny it physically hurt to have his grip on you and not inside of you. 

John tosses you to the bed and watches your tits as you bounce on the mattress, looking up at him with black-consumed eyes and a euphoric expression. He wastes no time – the man shucks off his boots and grips his belt with a veiny hand, ripping it from his pants and tossing it to the side. You had the best view of the large tent in his pants, violently straining the fabric in a way your hand can’t stop itself from clenching into the bed sheets. 

“Touch yourself for me, Love, let me see you work that cunt of yours before I eat you out, yeah?” 

Licking your lips, you moan, “Yes, Sir.” 

“Ah, look at my good girl, listens so well to her Captain,” Your fingers aren’t as long or as thick as his are, so they can't do much as you slip them under your underwear and play with your weeping slit as you clench at the comment.

Your fourth and fifth fingers enter you, and your thumb presses into your stiff clit, moving in a tight circle as you stare into John’s eyes. Involuntarily, your lower body rocks in a steady motion as your eyes drink in the man and his heaving lungs... 

You want him naked. 

“Bloody Fucken’ hell,” Price throws off his shirt, and palms at his erection through his pants as his dog tags hit against his scarred and formed chest. 

The sharp ‘V’ of his lower abdomen immediately draws your eyes downwards over the impressive physique, a trail of small dark hairs going lower and lower just to be shielded by the rough material of his pants. John’s skin glistens with sweat, and you want to lick it off of him. If possible, you get even wetter.

You smirk, hips jerking as you send a heavier motion on your nerve bundle; head rolling to the side and mouth opening as you feel yourself tighten around your fingers. That knot was returning, forming as you curl your digits in your slick heat, making your eyelids flutter.  

When you open them again and force them to stay still, you find a heavenly sight beside you. Your eyes widen, and your slit tightens so violently your movements stutter and struggle like a noose had been tightened around your neck. The lungs inside of you gasp.

John’s pants and boxers were gone, leaving nothing on him besides his tags that clink and clatter as he jerks himself off at the sight of you. His sizable dick was red at the tip, lit with fire as precum dribbled out and splatted to the mattress right by your free hand – which clenches the sheets so hard you faintly hear a tear as your ears twitch. But your eyes don’t leave the magnificent sight in front of you watching like a hawk as John’s abdominal muscles tighten with every twisted motion of his hand. 

He was so violent with himself, the exact opposite of how you were playing with your own body. That wasn’t to say the image was anything but fuel to the fire, though.

You whimper and writhe, wrist burning and palm completely soaked with natural lube. 

“Ruining the show, Dear,” The tendon in Price’s neck flares, and a bead of sweat falls down his peck. Inside your sweatshirt, your breasts ache to be squeezed and abused.

Not processing his words for a moment, you pause your fast breaths to let out a high-pitched sound of confusion.

John doesn’t answer, because he moves his free hand and grips your panties, which stretch over your ministrations. He tears them down your thighs, and his touch is like a drug. 

“There we go, Princess. Now I can see that pretty cunt of yours.” Keening at the praise, your back lightly arches from the bed, watching John continue to work himself and matching his pace, imagining him inside of you instead of your fingers, “You like that, yeah? You like when I speak to you like that, dirty girl?”

You bite into your lip, knot so tight you want to grab a pair of scissors and cut it before it tears you up. Fuck, you were so close, the erotic sounds of the both of you fucking yourselves are so wet it increases the pleasure spiking your veins.

A wet hand snaps to your wrist stopping you just seconds away from a release. 

Gasping out in shocked desperation, your mouth releases a strangled plea of, “No, John, please.”

“Answer me when I speak to you,” You stare at your Captain’s bearded face as his hand keeps a heavy weight on your skin. He tears your fingers out of you and keeps them away from your core as you try and ferally move them back. John’s jaw is clenched – he holds you with the hand he was touching himself with not a second before, and you tense at the thought, “I asked you a question, Princess. I expect an answer if you want to cum.”

Tears of desperation form in your ducts. You were so close, but now the sensation was leaving again. 

“Yes!” You yell, voice high, “Yes, John I like it when you tell me how good I am! It gets me wet for you… m-my cunt fucking needs you in it, please! I need you to fucking ruin me, Captain! I want your dick stretching me open like–”

His lips silence your rant, shoving the back of your head into the pillow and moving his body to shadow above yours. The action leaves you moaning so loud at the sensation of his athletic body you forgot the walls were thin and that you were sounding like you were in a pornographic film. 

John smirks above you and replaces your fingers with his own, making your legs shake and twitch at the sensation of his callouses against your walls and his large digits burning as they enter you. He thrusts quickly, sopping wetness quickly making it easy, and the pleasure increases.

“Just had to say yes, Love,” His cock jumps and you feel it brush your lower abdomen, so painfully close but not quite. The man’s dog tags connect right above your face, swinging back and forth as he moves.

You gasp when his fingers curl, squelching echoes over the breathy chants of his name that you release. 

“Look at how fucken’ wet you are,” John praises you, and your walls flutter, as he watches his fingers move in and out of you, “Gotta’ get a taste of that, Love…Take off your top for me so I can see those pretty tits bounce.” 

Fuck you were on fire.

Your shaking limbs don't hesitate, hands snapping to throw the sweatshirt and your bra from you without a coherent thought in your brain. Completely bare before him, John’s expression darkens and swirls with lust. His fingers leave you and he moves down the mattress, leaving back on his knees and grabbing your thighs. Your chest heaves with adrenaline and bare need. This was better than any gunbattle – more thrilling than a training session, and far better than anything Leon had done to you. 

John was focused on you. Entirely. The man was forsaking his own painfully erect cock just to go down on you; to taste your wetness like it was nectar. 

Price hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, and your ankle digs into his back to bring him closer to your cunt. 

“Easy there, Princess. I’ll give you what you need,” His breath spreads over your slit, and your hips jerk before his hand splays over your navel, thumb just brushing your throbbing clit. You try to buck again, whining, “Steady.”

He stares at your face as his tongue goes down to kitten licks your pussy, beard bristles poking your skin and leaving the flesh lit like a glowing ember.

“John!” You moan, and one of your hands snaps to your breast, squeezing as John explores your body, groaning deeply as he collects your slick on his tongue. 

The man’s thumb goes to run circles around your nerve bundle, stimulating you as your body tries to move under his tight grip. But he has you under a tight rope, and the pleasure of it was nearly like being electrocuted over and over again. Your leg over his shoulder traps him there – eating you out like a man starved as his own hips begin to careen into the mattress. The pleasure of seeing you reduced to a blubbering mess that can only chant his name did primitive things to John’s mind. 

And the way you were playing with your breasts…? Fuck, he was addicted to you; the way your body was perfect enough to devour.

John moans into your cunt, the vibrations biting every corner as the tension begins to shatter inside of you when his fingers go to assist his tongue. Your back arches as the muscle and digits work in tandem, pace increasing as the Captain curls over that perfect, spongy, spot that leaves tears falling down the side of your face.

“Fuck, just like that!” You wail, fingers flickering over your hardened nipple, “J-John just like that!”

The words were slurred, coming off as drunk as his beard leaves skin red and scraped on the inside of your thighs. Your cunt tightens, walls closing in around John’s tireless lapping and fingering. His thumb on your clit moves faster, and he lets your hips careen into his face over and over again as his large nose bumps against that same spot. 

Tension builds and builds like an infection, and your free hand snaps to grip your Captain's hair, jerking his face farther into you and ruthlessly twisting the locks.

John whimpers into your slit, cock stuttering in its harsh rutting into the mattress, and your eyes erupt into stars, white light blowing up as your release makes time stand still. 

Gutturally moaning into the hot air, you pant as you come down just to feel a tongue cleaning up your thighs, slurping up cum, and playing around with your sensitive flesh. Fingers still pump inside of you, helping you ride out anything that’s left.

You can’t speak beyond small whimpers and gasps at the movement, but when you look down you’re met with John’s ruined face.

His entire beard was stained, dripping cum down onto your navel as he licks at your clit once. Your hips jerk and you cry in protest at the oversensitivity of the abused area, eyes fluttering.

“Just as I thought,” John’s voice is velvet, dripping just like his beard and nose do as he licks his lips with a demented sucking noise “Boody perfect, doll. Could eat that cunt for hours, just to see you squirm when I’m fucken’ you with my tongue. Better than Whisky.” 

You swallow as his hands caress your thighs, the grip traveling as his body slides up yours. His cock is heavy and leaking as it slides over your drenched slit. Thrusting up into it, the both of you gasp out. John lays drenched kisses all over your sweat-drowned body, leaving a trail of saliva and cum behind him as his own slots over you perfectly. 

“Speak to me,” He groans, and your fingers still in his locks lightly pull as he pushes your still hand over your breast away with his nose. His hot mouth latches onto your nipple and sucks before laying a deep bite around it. 

Writhing, he continues his expiration as a bead of sweat falls down your neck to pool at your bitten collarbone. John licks it up and continues like it’s nothing.

“F-feels good,” Is all you can say, not used to this type of treatment, “R-really good, Captain.”

“Yeah?” He sounds cheeky as his head pulls up to be above yours, hands pressing into the pillow beside your head, “Hm, think my Bird can take a cock? Want me opening that lovely cunt of yours up?”

Your heart pounds, hairs standing on end. The words were so vulgar, but you feel your arousal increase. 

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Y-yes, Captain.”

John lays a gentle kiss on your bruised lips, and you taste your own release as he sighs into your mouth; connecting your foreheads together when he pulls away. 

“I want your eyes on me the whole time, yeah?” He grunts, one hand going to grab at himself as he shivers above you. Chest bursting with anticipation, your free hand goes to intertwine its fingers with John’s beside your head – the other still gripping his hair, “I wanna see the way you lose yourself on me.”

You can’t answer before he’s filling you up.

Your eyes widen at the stretch, embers of pain bordering on the ledge of pleasure as the man pauses at your expression, going to play with your clit. On your face, your nose scrunches, hesitance floating in your orbs as you let out tight breaths even as his finger does wonders.

“S’alright,” John whispers to you, squeezing your hand and feeling the mewls your lips let out at the sensation of deep callouses, “I’ll be careful, Love. You can take me. Breathe.” Muttering paise as his cerulean blues bore into you, he resumes moving. 

How could you even fit him all inside of you? The tip already burned to take so far into your womb.

But you were plenty wet, the squelching sound resumed, and John tilted his head down to see the way he disappeared inside your cunt like magic. Your thighs have to move farther up his own to help, one locking around his waist as a ring of milky liquid forms over the joining.

The man’s eyes widen when he spies the bulge forming in your lower body, the indent popping out like a hole that’s been repacked with too much dirt. For the final last push, the man forces himself to look away and back up at you – he wants to see how you react. But at the last seconds, John’s eyes roll back into his head when he finally hits the base, a throaty groan mixing with your high-pitched moan as he bottoms out. Your chest flutters against his, and both of your hearts are going so fast they can be seen through your flesh.

You were so full, stretching around him so wide it was a miracle you hadn’t torn something. Both of your stay there for a moment, feeling your walls spasm around him and panting. Sweat falls from Price’s chin, splashing to your skin as your eyelids threaten to close at the stranger inhabiting your most sensitive area. It felt so good.

Your mind completely blanks, eyes glazing over with rapture at the feeling of John’s cock curving so far into you that you know he’ll push into your cervix when he moves. Every minute movement – even the deep breath John takes to steady himself – leaves you needing stimulation as the veins of his dick press into your soft walls.

“M-move, please,” Your numb lips flutter, and John’s eyes open from above you, jaw clenched and one orb more squinted than the other. 

“Yes, Ma’am,” He whispers, expression soft as your hand in his hair tightens to ground yourself. 

John begins slowly, letting you get used to him and the burning that he brings to your insides when he retracts and re-enters. His thrusts are measured, at first.

“Such a good girl,” He says above you, and your eyes refocus, body loosening as your form gradually adapts. But you were right, he’s hitting every corner of you as easily as he breathes. So thick it's like nothing you've ever felt. Your hips are canting up to meet his shallowly, but John does most of the work. He wants to. He wants to please you like Leon never could, to treat you right, “Taken’ me so well. See you grippin’ me, Dear…t-that’s it,'' Your pussy throbs, and you feel him move a little faster, “You’re gettn’ it down, eh? There’s that pretty little face of yours – all screwed up ‘cause of me. Hm, don’t go cock-drunk on me yet, Lovely.” 

“John,” Is what you chant as he begins to fuck you in earnest, pelvis slamming into you as you feel him brush your cervix, “Oh, John.”

“That’s it,” He pants and angles his thrusts up. The action makes you yowl, head tossing back as Price goes to bite into your neck again, dog tags cold against your skin, “There’s that sweet spot, yeah?”

He hits it every single time, marksmanship training telling him to keep attacking the most important part; tears blur your wide sight, back arching as his hand at your clit goes to hike your leg farther up his waist, the limb uselessly flying out behind his back. The deep press of his blunt nails into the flesh adds to the overstimulation, and you can’t keep up if you tried. Too pleasure drunk, you let him do what he wants, as long as you can feel his veiny cock hitting that spongy spot again. His dick thrusts into you with such devotion, ringing out pleasure like how one does to a rag.

“Fuck…” He muttered into your neck, “Won’t last long with you squeezing me like that. You’re so bloody tight.”

The snake was coiling in your gut, tail rattling as John throbs inside of your heat, moving over your skin like he was water over a rock. Loosening your hand from his hair, your nails go to dig into the fletch of his back, raking down his spine as he growls under you; sending a sharp thrust up that has you seeing sparks in your vision. It was building so quickly you couldn’t properly speak, only moan and wail and wine.

You were sure your nails were biting into his skin, leaving long red scratches behind as some sick form of proof. Maybe they were even drawing blood. A sadistic part of you wanted them too. 

“C-close,” Your gasp enters the thick air as your legs shake. John bites your earlobe, lifting his head from your skin to look at you from the side of his blown eyes. 

“W-where do you want it, Love?” He gasps, his beard scraping your skin until it’s raw. You hoped you had lotion in the bathroom for tomorrow, “C’mon gotta tell me before I lose myself.”

“Inside!” You yell, not even knowing what you’re saying anymore. If you did a part of you would have died from embarrassment. The man’s eyes snap fully to yours, widening; you feel his body shaking above you, hands clenching too tightly around your thigh and embrace as the flesh turns a different shade, “Please, Captain, fill me up. I wanna feel you dripping out of me for days! Please, I need your cum! Please, please…”

Price only sputters for a second before he begins to move like a man possessed. He pistons into you with heated movements and you gasp out in response, not sure how much more you could take but please don’t stop it feels so good. So, so, good when you move like that. Fill me with your seed.

“Made for me, you were,” John growls, ferally kissing you as you try to do the same back as he relentlessly pounds away, “I said it before, bloody fucken’ perfect. Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you need. Make you so full of me you’ll be leaking all over the damned sheets.” 

The coil snaps and you clench around Price’s cock so hard he moans into your mouth as you do the same. 

“Fuck..!” His hips jerk one more time before he spills into you, hot spurts of his seed coating your walls and leaking out of the ring you two had made. 

Shaking, John lets you ride it out as he continues to shakily thrust into you, but it isn’t long before he has to stop and his dick softens inside of you. After a moment of violent deep breaths, he has to shift, exiting from your reddened and leaking hole. Shuttering at the feeling of his ridges once more leaving, the foreign emptiness finally settles into your bones, you feel his cum pooling from you to collect on the mattress; your lower skin feels wet to the touch as the liquid follows the lines of your body and sticks to every part available. 

Lungs desperate for air, your body heaves and shivers; your eyes stay locked onto the ceiling above you, where you wished the metal was the same shade of blue as John’s eyes. You didn’t even notice the man himself had gone into your bathroom to receive a damp rag to clean you up until the rough material was leaving you flinching away from it. 

“Careful now,” John speaks lowly, and you hear his dog tags below you as he swipes at your folds. Your eyelashes flutter, legs tensing, “Need to clean you up.” 

He lays a kiss on your knee and continues for a few minutes, muttering compliments and kind words that you miss as your ears ring; he cleans your combined fluids from your spent cunt delicately, completely different from how he was abusing it a short while ago.

John leaves, and when he returns a second time, he slips into the bed in front of you, taking the wrecked covers and arranging you carefully so you were covered by them.

A moment of hot pressing bodies passes, and your head is pressed into the man’s raging chest, drawn back to consciousness by his heart when he shifts, “...Didn’t hurt you, did I, Love?”

“Hm,” You groan, and moving your legs results in needles digging into the fine tissue, “No. But you’re going to be carrying me tomorrow.” 

Your Captain has the audacity to laugh, his hand going to rest on your ass, rubbing the skin as he draws you closer.

“Wanted to do that for a long time, Y’know,” He whispers, laying kisses to your hair, “Long time.”

“Me too,” You admit, sighing as your eyes flutter shut, “Since Madagascar, I think.” 

John lightly flinches, “Madagascar?” It’s a question, but he already knows the answer, “What about…”

He trails.

“Leon?” You ask and Price grunts, knocking his nose down into your scalp as he draws circles into your skin. He didn’t like you saying that man’s name, “I think I wanted to break up with him…finding him with someone else just gave me an easy out, I guess,” You think over the event. Had you been relieved slightly? Perhaps, but it was easier to tell now than earlier, “It was just…”

Stopping you hum, and turn your head to lay a kiss on a scar on John’s chest in your vicinity.

“Easier.” 

It’s not a question your Captain poses, it's a statement.

“Less complicated, yeah.” He breathes a sigh into your hair and fatigue leaves your lids falling quickly.

“We’ll talk more in the morning,” John mutters, “Copy?”

You don’t answer, because you’ve already fallen to sleep, body bruised and yet feeling far better than you had in years. John wanted to be with you, Leon was out of the picture – it was all turning up. But there was still that part of you that ached with betrayal, that bled when you poked at it with a finger; a wounded heart would do that. It bleeds for a bit.

Though, you knew John would be there with a bandage, to put pressure on the wound and catch the spills. Maybe that was selfish, but maybe you had a right to be for a little while. Your Captain certainly didn’t seem to mind. 

John fell asleep quickly after, content for possibly the first time in years. He gets to hold you in his arms and wake up with you right by his side, even if the paperwork was going to be atrocious.

There was no doubt people had heard them, but it wasn’t like the Captain cared. 

—

“Little Lady?” The knock wasn’t what woke you, John did. Looking up at him, he holds a finger to his lips and has a pleading look on his face. You raise a brow, about to go back to sleep before Soap’s voice makes you freeze, “I know you’re in there – you wouldn’t happn’ to have a clue where Price is, would you? Man missed the debriefing.” 

Your wide eyes stay locked with Johns, Maybe If I don’t answer he’ll go a–

“That’s it, I'm coming in!” 

“Wait!” 

But the door was already opening – John hadn’t locked it, too caught up in the stupor of finally getting you into his arms and wetting his dick. 

“...Steamn’ bloody Jesus!” Screaming and a quick rustling can be heard echoing out into the hallway, “...Well, well, well, Cap finally got the girl, did he? Bout’ time, I’d say! Tell me, now, how good was he in bed for an old man?” 

“Stop lookn’ at her, you Muppet! I’ll hang you by the fucke–” 

“How can’t I – her fucken’ tits are out and you’re about a bawhair away from her! Where else am I supposed to look, man?” 

“Out!” 

Soap rushes out, smiling wider than anything with gleaming eyes before stumbling and nearly careening into the wall as John Price rushes after, face red and snarling. The Captain had nothing more than a wrinkled, thin, standard white bed sheet around his tapered waist with dog tags fastened around his neck. 

John’s clenched hand connects with the door frame and the rageful man leans out down the hall and yells, “When I find you, MacTavish, It’s your fucken’ neck under a goddamned rope! You hear me, Sergeant?! Your fucken’ neck!”

Vibrating laughter can be heard from the figure already disappearing down the corner of the woman’s Barracks.

“Wait till the boys hear about this!”

The door closes so loudly behind John that the wide-eyed bystanders in the hallway miss the lock being clicked into place with savage fingers. But the loud, chest-tightening, feminine laughter that forms moments later is none the clearer.  

Well, secret’s out. 

#john price #captain johnathan price #captain john price #john price x reader #John price x you #captain price #x reader smut #cod #cod x reader #cod smut #cod mw22 #cod x you #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #MW #MW2 #Call Of Duty MW2 #mw2 2022 #x female reader #female reader

[bucks-babe]

Virgin Bucky Gets His First Blowjob

Paring: Virgin!Bucky x f!reader

Summary: You give your boyfriend his first blowjob

Word Count: 2,148

Warnings: Established relationship, smut (Oral m!receiving), kind of sub!Bucky, Bucky is a nervous boy and gets a hard on during a movie, Bucky has a praise kink, Virgin!Bucky, No use of Y/N

A/N: Should I make a part 2 where Bucky loses his virginity to reader?

“Okay, doll, I’ve got everything set up. You pick a movie yet?” Bucky settles down next to you in his bed, making sure that there is no space separating the two of you. He wraps his right arm around your shoulder and you snuggle up into his side.

Your laptop is resting on both of your laps, your left thigh and his right thigh hold it in place. “Yes, and it’s one of my favorites!” You bounce in place just a little. “You’re gonna love it, Buck! It’s When Harry Met Sally.” Bucky chuckles at your excitement. Steve has his book of things to catch up with in the 21st century, and Bucky has you. 

“We’ll see, doll. You haven’t let me down yet.” In all honesty, Bucky was thoroughly enjoying the movie, Harry wasn’t the type of guy Bucky thought girls would go for, but most of his enjoyment came from how happy the movie seemed to be making you.

A few times you would catch Bucky staring at you instead of the movie; each time you would look back up at him he would pretend that he was immersed in the movie the whole time and you would nudge his side. It just made him so happy to see how much you were enjoying the movie, going so far as to mouth the lines alone with the actors.

“Yes it is! You are a human affront to all women, and I am a woman.” 

“Hey, I don’t feel great about this, but I don’t hear anyone complaining.”

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky is having the time of his life watching you act out the conversations, his heart never feeling so full in all his life. He truly doesn’t know what he did to deserve you, after all the horrible things he’s done in his life, he gets blessed with the most wonderful and understanding woman to call his.

His doll, his girl, who hasn’t even pressured him into anything. He felt bad at first, when he told you that he wanted to take things slow, thinking that you wouldn’t want to have a boyfriend who had no experience in the sexual realm. Of course, he’s kissed women, having his fair share of dames back in the 40’s, but he was a gentleman. He would take them out dancing, maybe make out in his car a little bit, but he never went farther than that. 

Now, after waking up after 80 some years, the last thing on his mind was having sex. That was until he met you, the minx who has awoken something inside of him, but he’s never acted on any of these feelings, too scared that he would disappoint you.

Ashamed that he was still a virgin, Bucky always stopped you before anything would get too heated, and you respected that. It didn’t make Bucky feel any better when he had to go to the ‘bathroom’ after a make-out session, but you never teased him about it, the both of you pretending that he really did need to go to the bathroom.

What the fuck?! Bucky’s attention is back on the movie when Sally has an ‘orgasm’ in the restaurant. Next to him, you’re giggling while watching her fake an orgasm, but Bucky, he’s not laughing. 

Bucky’s never seen a woman have an orgasm. Back in his day, the most accessible type of porn were dirty magazines that he used to hide under his bed so his ma wouldn’t find them. He tried to watch modern day porn after his not so mini sexual re-awakening, but after seeing some of the video titles, decided that porn was a no go for him, so this was sending all of the blood in his head straight to his dick. If it was over dramatized, he couldn’t tell, but his cock didn’t care. 

He felt it twitching in his sweats and he tried to subtly shift so you wouldn’t be able to see the bulge under the covers. Closing his eyes, Bucky tried to will his erection away; however, the scene seemed to never end and his cock got even harder at the thought of what you would look like when you came, how you would moan his name, how you would feel around him. 

He bets that you would look fucking spectacular spread out on this very bed with his cock burried deep inside of you. How your pussy would look swallowing him as he–

“Bucky, are you okay? You’re moving around a lot.” Shit! Bucky knows that he’s been caught. There is nothing he can do to hide the tent in his sweatpants; he curses himself for even wearing pants with so much give to them. 

“Uh…yeah, I’m good. My back’s a little stiff from the bed is all.” With how red his face and chest are, it’s a surprise that there is enough blood going to his dick to have it be as hard as it is.

“Your back? Are you sure? Cause I think I see the problem.” Double Shit!

“Doll, I’m sorry. It’s just that…” Your giggle cuts him off.

“Bucky, it’s okay. If you want I can give you a minute to sort,” you glance at his crotch, making it twitch in need, “that out.”

Bucky wishes that the bed could swallow him up whole so he wouldn’t have to deal with this. He’s a grown man for God’s sake and he’s popping wood at the first sign of something sexual!

“Or…” You drag on, “I could help you with that.” Bucky gulps, finding his throat to be drier than a desert.

“Doll, y-you don’t have to.” There’s a spark in your eye that you only have when you’re up to no good, like when you set Steve and Sharron up on a blind date after being sick of the pining between the two of them.

“But I want to, Bucky. Only if you’re okay with it.” His heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest, but he is so hard, and he trusts you with his body and soul.You know that he’s never done anything; you would be the last person on the planet to make fun of him. 

“O-okay. What do you want me to do, doll?” You close the laptop, effectively ending the movie; Bucky couldn’t give less of a shit what happens to Harry or Sally right now, not when you’re looking at him like he is a full course meal and you're starving.

“Absolutely nothing. I want you to lay right there and let me make you feel good. Can you do that for me, hmm?” Pulling the covers back, you settle between his thick thighs, resting your head on one and looking up at him.

“I-I can do that. Yeah.” He shifts so that his back is against the headboard. Bucky isn’t used to just laying back while someone else does the work, has never been like that, but for you he would do just about anything if you asked.

Your hands go to the waistband of his sweats and boxers while you give small kisses to the outline of his cock through both layers. “Good boy,” you whisper on his cock, chuckling when it jerks under your mouth and he whines. Ooh, he’s a vocal one, you think as you look up at his flush face.

Bucky lifts his hips off the bed when you tug at his waistband, and his cock smacks against his clothed stomach, precum leaking onto his shirt. With his cock and balls on display, Bucky fights the urge to close his legs and cover himself up; no woman, or man, had ever seen him like this, but he wants this so bad. He trusts you; if he wants to stop, you’ll stop, but heaven forbid if you stop now.

He’s fucking big, too. You don’t know if you’re going to be able to fit his entire length in your mouth, but you’re sure as hell gonna try! Starting at his thighs, you give wet, open mouth kisses, leaving beautiful bruises on his skin. Whimpering, Bucky tries to get your mouth on his cock; all of your teasing is only making his balls fuller than he thought was possible and more precum ruin his shirt.

“Please, doll. Suck it.” His toned hips leave the bed in chase of your mouth. He can’t count how many times he’s fucked his fist thinking about how the tight heat of your mouth would feel wrapped around his cock. Even now, with you kissing up and down his length, tracing his most prominent vein, it’s not enough.

“Shh, big boy, I’m getting there. You’re just so pretty I have to paint you.” His cock bounces from the force of its throbbing and another whine leaves his plump lips.

Eventually, you take pity on him and his begging, and you take the tip in your mouth and give it a harsh suck. “Oh Fuck! Do that again, doll!” He throws his head back, making contact with the headboard with a loud thunk. Hands flying to the sheets, and hips chasing your mouth, Bucky damn near chokes on his own spit.Christ, you’ve barely touched him and he’s about to burst.

Loving his reaction, you grab the base of him and spit on his tip, watching it roll down to where your hand rests, only to use your spit as lube to drag your hand up and down, feeling him pulse and throb in your hand. “Come on, doll. Please! I need more.” 

He was fisting the sheets, not wanting to force your head down, but wanting you to take him down your throat at the same time. Deciding not to torture him anymore, you licked your lips before taking as much length in you mouth as possible.

“GOD, FUCK!” His hips flew up to meet your mouth, making you gag. He was trying his hardest to stay in control and not force your pace, but fuck, he wasn’t expecting it to feel this good. You quickly found a steady pace, hollowing your cheeks and using your tongue to lap at his dick. Salavia coated his entire dick and was leaking down to his balls, making your movements that much easier.“What the fuck! Doll, that feels fucking incredible. More, please. Give me more! Shit! That feels so good!” Such a needy little thing.

There were still a few inches of his dick that you couldn’t fit in your mouth, so you used one hand to work the remaining length and the other hand to massage his balls. His cock was leaking precum and you could feel his heavy sack tense up in your hand; you knew he was about to cum, even before he did.

Bucky pulled you off his cock. “Doll! I’m gonna cum!” It took you a second to register why he pulled you off when he was about to cum, but you then realized, he didn’t think you wanted to swallow - How wrong he was.

“If you’re gonna cum, baby, I want you to cum in my mouth.” Not waiting for a response, you took his cock back into your mouth, taking him all the way to the base, letting him fuck your mouth with the little jerks of his hips. The sounds leaving his mouth were almost akin to sobs, making you clench your thighs together to quell the ache between your legs.

“Fuck, I’m cumming!”  His cum shot out in thick streams and you tried to swallow around his cock, but more and more cum would shoot out. You lapped up every single drop of his cum that you could, some of it dripping down to his balls. When his hips tried to jerk away, you pulled off his cock to lick his balls clean and tuck his softening cock back into his pants.

With a dopey look on his face, Bucky gave you the prettiest smile, having experienced the best orgasm of his overextended life. “I really liked the movie, doll.” He laughed after you giggled. After coming back down to reality, Bucky frowned, “doll, I wanna make you cum, too.”

“Oh, Buck, I didn’t do that because I wanted anything in return,” you repositioned yourself next to him in bed, ignoring the throbbing of your pussy, “I did it because I wanted to make you feel good.”

There’s still a pout on his lips, wanting you to feel good as well. “Another day, Bucky. I don’t want to overwhelm you with too much in one day, okay?” Eventually, he agrees, becoming compliant after getting his soul sucked out of his body.

“Next time, doll, you’re gonna teach me how to make you cum.” God, you love this man.

“Oh, I look forward to it.” This man is going to wreck you and you can’t wait.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky imagine #bucky smut #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #sebastian stan x reader #Virgin!bucky #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan imagine #bucky barnes drabble

[bimbobaggins69]

Show me

Older!Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

summary: you accidentally stumble upon your best friend/roommates porn stash, you quickly learn he’s the main star. After seeing him in ways you never have, will your friendship ever be the same?

⚠️warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI, pictures for aesthetic purposes only, eddie is in his mid 30s & reader is 25, oral sex (69), throat fucking, dirty talk, slight degradation, unprotected p in v rough sex, hair pulling, squirting, anal fingering (f receiving), anal sex (f receiving), anal cream pie.

A/N: FUCK WHOEVER REPORTED THIS, IMMA KEEP REPOSTING 🖕🏻

Requested by: @lokis-little-fawn 💗

You’re not sure what lead up to this, well you are—but you’re not sure why you let your curiosity get the best of you. It was just a normal Sunday morning, you had the weekend off so you spent your time cleaning up your apartment and finishing up some much needed laundry. Your roommate and best friend eddie had to go into work for a few hours to work on a car that needed repair. You figured you’d be a good roommate by folding his clothes and putting them away for him, since he’s out working hard, but now you’re not so sure that was a good idea

You folded up all of his dark colored clothes which mostly consisted of band tees and black jeans, heading to his room with the red flimsy plastic laundry basket to put them away. You hang out in Eddies room all the time but you’ve never had a reason to look inside his drawers before. You slowly open the oak wood drawer and begin putting his shirts away, then moving onto the bottom where his jeans were held, you squat down trying to easily maneuver the jeans to fit with the others, as you try to close the drawer you realize it’s too full and decide to be an even better roommate and re fold them for him so they’ll fit properly, as you begin taking them all out you see a vhs tape laying at the very bottom—of course your interest was piqued so you reach for it, picking it up and reading the side that had been written on, “NOT PORN” it said and you couldn’t help but giggle, that was such an Eddie thing to do, that’s why you loved him. Yes, love as in deeply, madly, intensely in love.

You met Eddie after he moved to Chicago from Hawkins. He began working at White Castle flipping burgers while you worked the register, you quickly got close due to your schedules always synching up. You would close together and closing was always slow so it left a lot of opportunity for you and Eddie to get to know each other, he’d talk about Hawkins, his friends and the life he left behind so passionately, it was easy for you to gain feelings for him. At some point you both became inseparable so you and Eddie decided why not move in together? You both enjoy each others company and two incomes are better than one, but you quickly realized you and Eddie will always just be friends. You’d have to endure multiple occasions of him fucking girls at all hours of the day, and they were never quiet, no matter how much you hoped they’d be, it was torture but after awhile it just became the new normal. It began to hurt less when you started dating, you’d never bring them back to your place to have sex but it was still nice to focus your attention on someone other than Eddie.

You want to put the tape back and move on to the other house hold chores you have, but you know if you don’t find out what’s on it, it’ll be all you think about, so you continue fixing Eddies jeans, putting the tape off to the side—as you finish and close the drawer, you get up taking the tape with you and heading into the living room to put it in the vhs player. Your heart is beating a mile a minute—you’re not even sure why, it’s probably just some lame low budget porno with really shit acting, “we’ll see” you whisper to yourself as you slowly slide the tape in with shaky hands.

You step back and pick up the remote as the tape goes from static to a shot of someone’s bedroom, the camera is focused on a bed with obnoxious pink flowers on the bedsheets, nothing other than the bed can really be seen in the shot. You fast forward a bit until you see something that catches your eye and immediately press play, as you do you hear and see Eddie balls deep in some girl, the moaning is ringing out through your ears as you sit on the coffee table watching the display in front of you. Your jaw instantly drops and your stomach plummets with jealousy. You continue to watch the tape now more so out of curiosity, if you’re never going to be able to fuck eddie, why not watch him? You’ve always wanted to know what made all those girls scream like they did, and now you know why. He pulls his cock out of the beautiful brunette and she drops to her knees in front of the camera and starts sucking him off. Holy shit his dick is huge, you can’t help but clasp your hand over your mouth with wide eyes. Your best friends cock was the biggest one you’d ever seen, it totally makes sense why the girls would leave your apartment with a certain walk, all of them, limping out as if they were slightly in pain.

You can’t hold back any longer at this point, the whole thing has you worked up—pussy dripping into your panties, so you do the most logical thing you can think about in that moment. You slip off your little cotton shorts and black panties and head to the couch as you sit, you open your legs wide—throwing one over the armrest and the other on the other cushion beside you, your fingers find your bundle of nerves and you begin rubbing. You were so wet, worked up and sensitive it had been awhile since you had sex, you were kind of going through a celibate streak that lasted a little longer than intended, so you had a lot of pent up orgasms that needed release, as you move down from your clit you slip two fingers into your hole, you needed to be stretched out for sure. You were so tight, so you continued fucking yourself with your fingers while taking the other hand and rubbing your clit, the screen displayed a picture of Eddie fucking the brunette from the back while he had a fistful of her hair, slapping her ass and every once in awhile grabbing her throat. The filthiness only egging you on closer to your orgasm, you were so focused on Eddies movements, the way his face contorted, the dirty things he was saying and on your own release that you didn’t hear the door being unlocked and opened.

“What the fuck, where did you find that?” Eddie says as he walks to the vhs to eject the tape, both of your faces a dark crimson red—you were mortified, you wanted to die right then and there, you couldn’t believe you allowed yourself to get that caught up in a porno, of your best friend no less.

“Y/n” eddie says in a stern voice as he turns to look at you, he didn’t even notice you had been touching yourself to it, so intent on making sure you didn’t see the rest of it—you sat there with glassy eyes, knees together but barely covering your soaked pussy, and fingers all pruned like you’ve been swimming, your cheeks were flushed and your breathing ragged—it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what you were doing. Eddie raised an eyebrow looking over your whole body, It’s not that Eddie didn’t want to fuck you, he did, he really really did—but he didn’t want to lose you. You had been his only friend since he had to leave his behind after the big earthquake of 86’, he had no one here in Chicago, just you—and he wouldn’t throw that away for a quick fuck. You’d leave just like they all do, and he couldn’t bare that thought—but with you sitting there half naked, and rosy cheeked he couldn’t help but get hard, his innocent best friend or so he thought, touching herself to a video of him. This was so close to every fantasy he’s ever had about you.

“What’s going on here y/n?” He says with a smug smirk

“I-I um, I was putting your laundry away and found this” you stammered

“So you decided to rub one out to it?” — “did you see something you liked?” He continues teasing

“Uh” you couldn’t even find words, you were humiliated and now he’s making fun of you, your lip begins to wobble and you drop your head in shame

“Okay, y/n it’s okay I’m just fucking with you, baby” he laughs out “don’t cry” he says as he moves closer, now sitting on the coffee table facing you—his gaze roaming your half exposed body, hungrily. Your head lifts as you hear the word baby. He’s never called you that before, sure sweetheart or bunny, a cute nickname he gave you due to a constant nose scrunching habit you have that he finds adorable, but never baby—you never want him to stop calling you that.

“Y/n you okay? Where’d you go?” He says as he snaps his fingers in front of your frozen face

“I’m okay” you whisper

“Listen, it’s not a big deal okay? So I did some porn to make some extra cash” —“I mean it’s not the way I wanted you to see my dick, but it’s okay, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about, okay sweet girl?” He says as he rubs your knee—making your breath hitch and all you can do is nod your head as you go over his words

“Wait how, um how did you want me to see your dick?” You say with the most pitiful tone you’ve ever heard come out of your mouth

He smirks as he continues rubbing, hand moving closer to your thigh “you don’t think I’ve had little fantasies and wet dreams about you, y/n?” — “what that sweet little pussy, looks and tastes like” he says voice low with a growl

“You have?” You say as your eyes widen

“Of course I have, have you seen yourself?” He says with some annoyance— Eddies always hated how much you doubt yourself and your beauty, how could he not want you? What man wouldn’t?

He was lucky he even got your friendship, you were far too good for the likes of him, well at least that’s what he thought but you never seen it that way.

“I mean, you just never said anything” you say as you finally look him in the eye, shame no longer present in your face

“Well, I can’t lose you y/n” eddie says as his movement on your thigh comes to a halt

“Lose me? Why would you lose me?” You can’t help but let out a little laugh, if only he knew how in love you are, he’d never question or think about you leaving him

“Everyone does” he says with a shrug of his shoulders

“I’m not everyone Eddie, I’m me” you say as you cup his chin and bring his eyes back to yours

He nodded his head in agreement, you’re right you’re not like everyone—you’re special, always have been. His hand begins moving closer to your inner thigh as he gages your reaction—silently asking if it was okay

You nod your head as you bite your lip, opening your legs back to assume the position they were in before he interrupted—his eyes fall to your still glistening pussy and he can’t help but to fall to his knees

“Fuck baby, look at this little pussy” — “it’s even better than I imagined” he says without taking his eyes off of it

“It’s really tight, too” you say —“haven’t been fucked good in a really long time” you continue with a voice as seductress as a siren pulling in her gullible victim

Eddies eyes snap up to yours, with a look no better described as carnal hunger

“You want me to stretch it for you, baby?” He says back, and fuck you about lost it. His dirty talk is so much better in person and when it’s said directly to you

“Yes, I do want that, so bad” you say

“What did it for you baby?” — he asks with a cocky grin —“huh?” You say face full of confusion

“On the tape, what got you worked up?” He asks curiously

“Oh um, well all of it to be honest, just you. Seeing you like that, really really made me horny” you respond making Eddies dick twitch, he loved hearing you like this — “but especially how rough you were with her, the way you pulled her hair and spanked her” you continue

“You like that kind of stuff, bunny?” — “who woulda thought” he says with a chuckle

“I’ve never done it before, but I want you to show me” you say voice almost as low as whisper

“Ok, I can show you whatever you want me to” — “whatever you’re okay with, I’m okay with” he says

You stand up and take his hand, heading off into your bedroom as you pull him along. You enter and walk to your bed, laying him down and crawling on top to straddle his lap, taking your hair out of its low bun and shaking it, then you begin to pull off your shirt—tits falling out of your little tank top “shit” eddie whispered to himself, you were completely bare for him now, and he knew he could no longer hold back—he had to give you all of him

“You’re fucking gorgeous y/n” — “the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen” he says looking you in the eye, face full of genuine adoration

“And you’re the sexiest man I’ve ever seen” you say back as you move closer to his lips, you give them a little teasing lick as you both giggle, before he grabs the back of your head and smashes your lips together, tongues meeting and teeth clashing, it was almost animalistic the way you both needed each other

You begin shifting in his lap, until you feel his hard cock straining in his jeans beneath you. As you roll your hips for some friction, eddies hands find your hips guiding you back and forth, your pussy completely soaking his jeans— “please take your clothes off Eddie, please!” You beg and whine

Music to Eddie’s ears, he can’t believe he has you this worked up, he feels like he’s dreaming a fucking gnarly wet dream, but he’s not—this is real you’re real and on top of him, heat radiating from your pussy as you beg for him—he could die a happy man

He gives your ass one good smack before he gently pushes you off, removing his shirt and unbuttoning his jeans, you stand up to help work them down his hips, once he kicks them completely off—you squat down and shove your thumbs into the waste band of his checkered boxers, slowly pulling them down his legs as you look up at him meeting his eyes— “oh you knew what your were doing, you little minx” eddie thought to himself

Once his boxers hit below his thighs his cock sprung out. The video tape didn’t do it justice, it was so much more beautiful in person and so hard, leaky tip an angry red. You couldn’t imagine how that stretch would feel—holy shit he’s gonna split you open

“Better in person?” He asks almost reading your thoughts

You look back up at him—“way better” you say as you lick your lips—“can I suck it?” You ask

“I have a better idea” eddie says, jumping up to lay on the bed—“come here” he motions you to climb on the bed too, but you’re lost not really knowing what he has in mind

“Sit on my face, baby” he says with an excited smile

“W-what?” You say in slight embarrassment, you’ve never done that before

“Sit on my face, I’ll eat you out while you suck my cock” —“is that okay?” He asks with a soft voice

The thought instantly breaking you out of your embarrassment—that sounded so hot, and who better to try new things out with

You climb up on the bed and turn to face Eddies legs, straddling his face and as you do he takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent—making you moan out at the dirtiness of it—“fuck you smell so good” Eddie says, voice muffled between your thighs. You bend over closer to his lower body and take his hard leaking cock in your hand, pumping it as he moans into your pussy, he begins flicking his tongue on your clit—making you moan out in turn. You focus back on him giving his lower stomach a few open mouthed kisses, following the patch of hair to his cock. You lick up all the way to his tip—tasting his pre cum as you take it in your mouth and suck, making Eddie stiffen and moan underneath you, as you continue sucking and taking him deeper, his tongue becomes relentless. Moans and wet squelches filling the space around you—eddie begins bucking his hips up into your throat, fucking your face—your eyes begin to water and you gag a couple times but you’re so turned on you don’t care. He continues his assault on your pussy as he fucks you with his tongue. You can feel your tummy begin to coil, earlier’s lost orgasm hitting you—the feeling so much more intense.

You begin to moan around eddie, making him fuck your throat harder, spit and tears coating his cock—your legs begin to shake and you can’t edge yourself any longer. You take your mouth off of him with a pop and begin moaning—“fuck yes, I’m cumming, please don’t stop!”

Egging Eddie on, making his assault relentless—as he sucks and slurps on your clit. Your whole body shakes as you fall on top of him no longer able to carry your weight, this was the best orgasm you’ve ever had—you could cry and you were, some from Eddie fucking your throat and some from complete blissed out pleasure

As you lay there while Eddie works you through your high, he grabs two handfuls of your ass, slapping and gripping—so hard he was definitely going to leave marks, but you didn’t care you’ve wanted nothing more than to be marked up by him—this was a dream come true

Eddie lifts your hips signaling you to get up

“Sorry” you laugh out

“It would be a great way to go” he says while huffing in a deep breath — you both laugh at his dumb joke as you lay there, Eddie allowing you to fully come down before continuing

“Can you, um can you fuck me in the same position?” You say shyly

“Doggystyle?” He inquires with raised brows and a smirk

“Uh, yeah” you say back unable to look Eddie in his face

“Don’t go shy on me now, princess” he laughs out

“I-I’m not, I just I’ve never done that one before”

“Hey, I like being your first for new things, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about I actually think it’s fucking hot” he growls

“Really?” You say with furrowed brows

“Yes, baby it’s so fucking sexy that I get to corrupt you and turn you into my personal whore” he spits out making your cheeks blush

You can’t help but bite your lip and nod your head, at this point Eddie could call you any name in the book and you’ll agree to it— “come on, ass up baby” he demands

You get into position, head down on the mattress as your ass wiggles in the air—you feel so exposed like this, but you’re too drunk on the idea of Eddie fucking you to care

“Mmm, this is a beautiful view” he says as he brings his palm down on your ass hard. You moan out, a reaction Eddie was not expecting—“oh you like that?” He says with a devilish smile

“Fuck, we’re gonna have so much fun princess” — “you gonna let me use you like this? Be my little fuck toy whenever I need my dick wet?” He growls as he slaps his cock against your ass—“yes, use me Eddie” you wail “shit, say that again, baby!” he demands as his cock begins breaching your pussy. You’re so lost in the feeling of him stretching you open to pay attention to what he just asked—SMACK! Eddie slaps your ass again, you never thought you’d be into being spanked but you were loving it—you moaned out again as you looked back at him with a smile—“I said say it again” he says through gritted teeth as he grabs a fistful of your hair pulling your head back towards him, plunging his cock deeper inside you “fuck, eddie use me”—-“use my pussy, please!” You shout

“That’s right, my little whore” he spits as he bottoms out inside you “fuck this pussy is so tight, goddamn” he whispers

“Fuck Eddie, you feel so good!”

Eddie begins thrusting in and out of you, pounding harder and harder as he hits your g-spot just right. You and eddie are loud—cussing, grunting and moaning could probably be heard down the block. You felt bad for your neighbors but you didn’t care enough to keep it down, it felt like heaven—better than you could’ve ever imagined

As Eddies fucking into you, you feel something wet hit your other hole— Eddie takes his thumb and begins rubbing the spit around—“has anyone ever played with this hole, baby?” He asks while continuing to fuck into you “no, never” you say as you bite your lip while looking back at him with curiosity

“Fuck, look at this little virgin asshole, can I play with it?” —“I promise, I’ll make you feel so good, princess” he begs

Butt stuff always scared you, after having a bad experience with an ex—but this is Eddie, you trust him and he promises to make you feel good, so of course you grant him access

“Yes, please” you say as you nod your head

Eddie spits another big glob right down on your pink hole, rubbing it in again and then pushing is thumb in slowly, inch by inch until his whole thumb was inside to the knuckle

“Holy shit” you mewl

Eddie stops his thrusts with his dick and finger— to check on you “you okay, baby?” He says voice full of genuine concern

“Yeah, yeah don’t stop please” you begin pushing back, fucking into his cock and thumb

He slaps your ass again, holding it with his free hand as he continues pounding into you. He’s stretching both holes out and it feels so good, too good—that familiar burning sensation creeping up, but one you’ve never felt before

“Eddie, hold on hold on!” His thrusts start slowing down—“what’s wrong, did I hurt you? Was that too much?” He begins

“No, no it’s prefect I-I just think I have to pee” you say with flushed cheeks, embarrassment washing over you

“Mmm, yeah?” He says as he starts to speed up again

“Eddie, baby please I-I can’t” you can’t even finish the sentence as the pleasure washes over you—“that’s it baby, just let go, make a mess”—“squirt all over my dick, you little slut” he growls as his free hand snakes around your waist to rub at your clit—he continues working his thumb in and out of your asshole

“Fuck, you like both of your holes filled hm?”—“like to be filled like a good little slut?” — “fuck, I knew you weren’t as innocent as you pretend to be, you’re just a secret little whore. Eddie just had to give it to you baby, that’s all you needed isn’t that right?”—his words tipping you over the edge, you cum as you scream Eddies name, he pulls his cock out and rubs at your clit with more aggression, making you squirt all over his dick as he groans out

“Fuck that was so hot”—“got my dick nice and wet, might just have to put it in your asshole” he says with a smirk

“I want you to, please?”— “please fuck my asshole, eddie”—“I need it” you whine

His eyes widen at your words “you sure baby?”

“Yes, I’m so sure, please!”—“I want you to fill my asshole with your cum” how the fuck could he say no to that?

“Fuuuck, y/n” he can’t even gather words, you’ve rendered eddie speechless

He takes his finger out and spits on your hole and on his dick, getting it nice and wet. He pushes your ass down a little so he has easier access, grabbing his cock and lining it up with your untouched hole. It’s a way bigger stretch than his finger, but he’s going so slow helping you get use to the feeling of being filled. Once he bottoms out he asks if you need a minute, you shake your head no—making Eddie thrust into you, slowly at first until you begin moaning out a “harder Eddie”

He starts fucking into your asshole relentlessly—it feels so good now. Eddies losing his composure above you “holy shit baby, fuck” —“I’m not gonna last much longer, your asshole is way too fucking tight, it’s milking my cock” —“fuck, I’m gonna fill it up, gonna fill this tight asshole up” —“Every. Last. Drop.” He says between thrusts

He grabs a handful of your hair again, lifting you up so your back is flush against his chest—he kisses your neck and shoulder as he continues his thrusts—“fuck I’m cumming” he moans out, you turn and grab the nape of his neck pushing his lips into yours, you kiss him through his orgasm, as he grunts and moans into the kiss

He pulls out with a hiss and kisses you on the nose guiding you to lay down as he grabs his discarded shirt on the floor and cleans the cum that’s beginning to seep from your fucked out hole

You whimper at the act

“You okay? Was I too rough?” He asks, you can’t get over how thoughtful he was when it came to sex, no man has ever made sure you were okay, the way he did. It made you fall even harder—getting to see him in this new light, you knew you’d never be able to go back to just being friends, but that was a topic for another day.

THANK YOU FOR READING

Please comment and reblog ✨

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson series #eddie munson x female reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #older eddie munson

[bronzeagepizzeria]

TEN AND ROSE: WERE THEY HAVING SEX?

Disclaimer: I absolutely support people writing whatever makes them happy; this is NOT a criticism of ten x rose smutfic/established relationship/babyfic etc, I’ve read and enjoyed several of those, this is simply my reading of their canon relationship.

Every once in a while, the Rose Tyler tag sees text posts about how, obviously, Ten and Rose were sleeping together throughout Series 2, as evidenced by their absolutely sizzling chemistry in episodes such as New Earth and Tooth and Claw.

Most of them are usually in good humour—a “can you BELIEVE this chemistry” sort of thing, but there does exist a genuine belief among some that they really were sexually intimate already.

So, let's examine this canonically, from a Tentoo lens.

Were they having sex?

Short answer: No.

Long answer?

Throughout Series 1, we pick up on hints of the Ninth Doctor’s feelings for Rose growing, as well as Rose beginning to have feelings for the Doctor. It’s quite subtle in comparison to Series 2; here’s two great friends beginning to fall in love—flirting and bantering and getting jealous of other love interests xD. It’s not a very explicit romance (and this is why Rose haters tend to prefer NineRose, but that’s a conversation for another day) but it is heavily implied, and it is sealed with a kiss in The Parting of the Ways.

When Rose looks into the heart of the TARDIS and comes back for the Doctor, this romance is made explicit. When the Doctor dies to take the vortex out of Rose, the romance is made explicit. This is no longer a crush, or simple endearment, they’re in love.

The Tenth Doctor is born out of this love. He now knows the extent of Rose’s feelings, and he knows just how far she is willing to go for him. (This is a blessing and a curse, but we’ll come back to that some other time.)

Rose’s immediate reaction to seeing Ten is asking him to change back—(something that noticeably distresses him—the fact that she might not like him anymore). She spends the entirety of The Christmas Invasion mourning him, (which is fair since he never told her the tiny little detail of his ability to regenerate. Sigh.) and only really comes around to him at the end of that episode. We can safely assume, then, that they haven’t had sex.

In New Earth, they’re still very much relearning their dynamic—how do they work together, fit together now? We learn that Rose is physically attracted to the Tenth Doctor, thanks to Cassandra, and Rose's slightly mortified reaction at hearing this from him implies that there's been no confession of the sort to him.

You could argue that maybe something happened off-screen between Episodes 2 and 3, but as Ally on the tentoo x rose server pointed out, that would be shoddy writing. A physical relationship amongst the main two leads that is never even alluded to with a chaste kiss, is odd. So we can assume this major development didn't happen.

Tooth and Claw, the one episode that is constantly subject to 'they were totally shagging' discourse, has exceptionally flirty energy, yes, but this is because Ten and Rose are both very tactile people. Make no mistake, they definitely are flirting and being more touchy-feely than strictly necessary, but it would be narratively inconsistent for the reason for this behaviour to be 'they were having sex.'

Why?

I'd like to point out this dialogue we get from Queen Victoria:

This moment is extremely important; it plants the seeds for the proper beginning of one of the main themes of S2, which is the biggest reason the two of them are not constantly shagging in the TARDIS.

From this point on, something has been re-awakened in the Doctor, the fear of outliving someone he loves again.

We have to remember the Doctor is a severely traumatised man, a man who has outlived his entire species, and the idea of this girl he loves dying and leaving him alone is unbearable.

In School Reunion we get this spelt out for us. The Doctor sees Sarah Jane again, and reality strikes. This will be Rose, one day. There’s a key confrontation that takes place in this episode, an argument that remains unresolved because there are certain things Ten cannot bring himself to say.

DOCTOR: I don't age. I regenerate. But humans decay. You wither and you die. Imagine watching that happen to someone who you…

ROSE: What, Doctor?

There is a later confrontation in the same episode, where the Doctor is tempted with the idea of never having to see anyone wither and die again.

Even the infamous The Girl in the Fireplace doubles down on these themes--the Doctor's immortality. Time running out.

The Age of Steel two-parter brings with it the “gingerbread house”. Things we want which we cannot have.

This, in fact, is the crux of their entire relationship, folks. The incompatible lifespans. Rose's mortality. Untapped desire. The unsaid.

This is why it's important and impactful that Rose, on the last day she gets to see the Doctor, ever, plucks up the courage to actually put words to what she feels. This is why the unfinished confession in Doomsday hurts so much. Because they finally, finally took that plunge but it was too late.

Assuming that they've been in a physically intimate relationship all the while takes away from the gravity of this moment.

(Not to mention it's super exploitative, considering the inherent power dynamics. To think Ten had sex with Rose all that time--entirely aware of her feelings--and didn't have the decency to say he loved her and then proceeded to force her to choose between him and another version of himself...is problematic.)

I would go as far as saying it's a fundamentally wrong reading of their entire relationship, and of the Doctor himself.

I've seen people say the "baby scare" in Doomsday is proof that they'd been physically intimate, but it is, quite obviously the Doctor being afraid Rose was pregnant with Mickey's baby, not his.

DOCTOR: You've still got Mister Mickey, then? ROSE: There's five of us now. Mum, Dad, Mickey and the baby. DOCTOR: You're not?

He is, in his not so subtle way, trying to figure out if Rose is back with Mickey. It only hammers in the fact that he's missed his chance---not that the child might be his.

DOCTOR: Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth. You're dead, officially, back home. So many people died that day and you've gone missing. You're on a list of the dead. Here you are, living a life day after day. The one adventure I can never have. ROSE: Am I ever going to see you again? DOCTOR: You can't.

Again, the narrative hammers this in. Their time is up. Rose will inevitably move on one day, without him.

All this to say…

TenRose in Series 2 is a tale of what could be. Of missed opportunities, and the lives and love we could have had.

But why is this important?

In order to understand Tentoo and Journey's End, it is vital we understand this aspect of TenRose. The yearning, the skirting around feelings in the room, the denial of gratification on Ten's part. The desire he cannot give in to.

Because Tentoo is the realisation of this desire. He is the second chance.

He is the embodiment of the Doctor grabbing hold of his one, short life and deciding to live it to the fullest. Tentoo is making a choice here--a choice to truly love Rose the way he has ached to do for years. This is why it's significant that he was able to get the words out while Ten wasn't.

This is why Rose chooses him.

This snippet of an email RTD received from Pete Bower sums it up extremely eloquently:

“In having one Doctor grieve for his lost love, while the other Doctor went off with that same lost love, you have written of that moment we all have where we make a choice. It is grieving for the love we never had (and the sex we never had) because of the choices we made.”

#my meta #needed to get this out lol #rose tyler #tenrose #tenth doctor #ten x rose #doctor x rose #tentoo #tentoorose #tentoo x rose

[matty-bear]

XI. Out [N.S]

type: The Influencer series FINALE

pairing: nick sturniolo x male!oc

warnings: sfw, tooth-rotting fluff, implications of sex (NO SMUT !!)

summary:  in which Finn and Nick come clean about their relationship to the fans on the Cut The Camera Podcast

notes: oh em geeee the influencer is done :000 I’m so grateful for all the support you guys have given me while Ive been working on this series <3 I could have never finished this series without you guy;s love and support fr fr . I might re write this after I write a bit more but I’m happy with how this series is right now ! hopefully you guys are fed with this but if youre not, don't fret there will be more finn and nick content in the near future ^^ thank you again for joining me on this ride and i hope to see you guys on my future works ! <3 p.s., hope you guys dont mind this extra long chapter ;3 

WC: 8033

CH10

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“My love~” The sound of Finn's voice echoing from their dimly lit shared bathroom causes Nick to abruptly lift his head from the pillow he’s laying on. 

“Yes?” Nick replies as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. The soft sound of footsteps pattering against the floorboards sounds through the male's ears as he swings his legs over the side of the bed. 

“I should've done my skincare last night.” Nick didn’t need to lift his head to know that Finn was frowning. His tone sounded nothing but upset and Nick's claim seems to be correct when he lifts his head to be met with his boyfriend slightly pouting. 

“What makes you say that? Did you break out or something?” Nick instinctively grasps Finn's hips to pull him in between his legs. He watches as his boyfriend slowly nods and removes his hand from the left side of his face to reveal a small, baby blue star patch.

“I got a pimple.” Finn raises a finger to point at the covered pimple, his frown not faltering. Before Nick gets the chance to add to the conversation, Finn sighs deeply and takes a seat on his boyfriend’s leg. “I envy you and your clear skin.” 

“Do you now?” Finn rapidly nods his head as he rests his chin on Nick's semi-clothed shoulder. 

“Yeah. You rarely break out. And when you do, it doesn’t take you very long to get rid of the pimples of whatever pops up on your skin.”

Nick simply hums softly and begins to drag his fingertips against Finn’s clothes back. “Baby, I have a question for you.” 

“What is it?” 

“I was talking with Matt and Chris last night about us coming clean about our relationship to the fans. They both made some pretty good points and I wanted to know if you were okay with coming to join us for a podcast so we can, you know, properly come out and I can introduce you to everyone as my boyfriend. It was either that or doing it in a car video but I feel like fans would want to know more about you, especially if they don’t follow you on social media, so they can get to know how wonderful you are from you from the podcast. What do you say? we’ll be filming the episode later today so you practically have all day to think about it.” 

The faint sound of Finn humming runs through Nick's ears for a moment, followed by the soft vibrations of his chest against his arm. “I'm down.” 

Nick's eyes light up as he leans back slightly to peer down at Finn. “really?” 

The taller hums again with a small smile as he gets up from his spot on Nick's leg. “As long as I get to sit next to you in the studio and if Chris and Matt aren’t gonna tease us the entire time.” 

“Well, I can't promise you that, but I'll talk to them later. Anyways, where are you going? Come back.” 

“I need to change!” A small laugh escapes Finn’s lips as he excuses himself to go to the closet. Upon opening the door and letting himself inside the small space, Nick quickly gets up from his spot on the bed and rushes over to the male. The moment he steps foot inside his closet, his eyes narrow as he watches his boyfriend shift through his rack of sweatshirts. 

“What are you doing?” Nick asks, his arms crossing over his chest. 

Finn momentarily shifts his gaze from the hangers in front of him to look over at his boyfriend who’s leaning against the doorframe. He sends the male a soft smile and returns to shifting through the hangers before he replies, “Finding a sweatshirt to wear.” 

“In my closet?” 

“Yeah.” Nick rolls his eyes as Finn finally settles on a clothing item. The redhead can practically see the happiness and excitement radiating off his boyfriend as he slips a black sweatshirt with large gray stars off a hanger. He watches as Finn quickly flips the item around to allow Nick to see it, a cheesy smile clear as day on his lips. 

“This is what you bought on our first date.” Finn says, his arms quickly getting to work on getting the sweatshirt over his head. 

“First date?” Nick asks, a single eyebrow raising as he watches his boyfriend’s head pop out of the top of the sweater. 

Finn lets out a small sigh as the familiar smell of vanilla runs through his senses. “Yeah, first date. Well, I considered it to be a little date, a blind one in a sense if you get what I mean.” 

“You know, we haven’t gone out on a proper date in a while.” At Nick's statement, Finn can't help but smile widely. As he approaches the redhead, he slowly wraps his arms around the shorter’s waist and peers down at him. 

“Is that a way of telling me that you want to go on a proper date?” Finn asks, his smile not faltering as he watches Nick’s facial expressions carefully. 

“Obviously, yes. I’ve actually been planning a little date for a few days now.” Nick smiles as he watches Finn’s eyes mimic those of a child being surprised on Christmas day. “Before you say anything, that’s all I'm telling you.” 

Finn’s excited expression drops and is quickly replaced with a small frown. “Oh come on~” The male whines as he begins to sway himself and Nick back and forth. “Just another hint, please?” 

“Nope. You're just gonna have to wait.” As Nick slips out of Finn’s hold and exits the closet, the latter gasps dramatically and quickly follows him. 

“Come on, please?” 

“Nope.” Finn lets out a small whine as he follows Nick downstairs. He quickly turns the corner when the male enters the kitchen and he immediately leans against the counter closest to Nick with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Well, good morning you two.” Matt greets as he passes the kitchen upon exiting his bedroom, his mop of messy and fluffy chocolate brown hair being a sign of his good night’s rest. 

Finn quickly turns his head around to face the younger male. “Oh hey.” Matt shares a quick smile with Finn as he walks towards the fridge. 

“So…” The brunette starts as he grabs a bottle of root beer off the top shelf. “Are we having a guest join us for the podcast today?” 

At Matt’s straightforward question, Nick quickly shifts his gaze from the small ceramic bowl in his hands to Finn who’s next to him. The redhead shares a quick look with his boyfriend before the taller smiles softly and looks over at Matt who’s taking small sips of the beverage in his hand. 

“I believe so, yes.” Finn replies with a small head nod. Matt lets out an excited shout before he makes his way over to the couple on the opposite side of the kitchen. 

“Did it take a lot of convincing?” Matt diverts his question to Nick who’s busy stirring a serving of dry cereal in the milk in his bowl. He waits for the older to take a quick bite and swallow the contents before he replies, “Not really no. I just gave him a quick rundown of what happened last night and he agreed to join us today.” 

After seeing Matt look over at him, Finn gently nods his head with a small smile. “Well, I’m glad you’re joining us today, Finn.” Matt says as he takes another quick sip of his root beer. “Should I start prepping questions with Chris then?”

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. When you guys are done, send me the list.” Nick replies with a small head nod. 

“Alright, I'll go do that then. See you guys later.” Matt sends a quick wave goodbye to Nick and Finn as he excuses himself to go back to his bedroom. After ensuring that the male shuts the door behind him, Finn immediately wraps his arms around Nick’s waist and pulls him flush against his chest.

At the sudden movement, the redhead lets out a small noise of surprise and removes the spool full of cereal from his mouth before it spills. After setting the utensil down in the nearly empty bowl, Nick turns his head to be met with a smiley Finn who’s resting his head on his shoulder. 

“Can we go back to bed please?” Finn asks, his speech slightly muffled due to his mouth being inches away from the exposed skin on Nick’s shoulder. 

“Baby, it’s 2 o’clock in the afternoon.” Nick starts, his eyes momentarily shifting over to the microwave nearby to double-check the time. “I don't think it’s a good idea to go to bed right now. Besides, if you want to cuddle, we can do it in the living room.”

“Fine.” Finn huffs slightly, his grip on Nick’s waist tightening ever so slightly. “Hurry up. You're taking too long.” 

“Calm down Mr. Eager. I'm almost done.” Finn impatiently watches as Nick picks up his spoon and scoops up a few pieces of cereal and some milk. At the sight of the male slowly risking the utensil to his slightly opened mouth, Finn groans and drops his head to his boyfriend’s shoulder. 

“You hate me.” Nick can’t help but chuckle at the taller’s statement and quickly stuffs the food in his mouth before going for another portion. 

“Glad you're aware of the fact so I don’t have to verbally say it.” Nick bites back a laugh when he hears Finn gasp dramatically. He watches from the corner of his eye as the male stands upright, his mouth wide open in shock drawing a small chuckle from him. 

“That's so disrespectful.” Finn waits for Nick to eat the contents from his spoon before he lands a poke on his side. The redhead flinches at the small touch and quickly whips around to narrow his eyes at the taller. 

“No, it’s not.” Nick defends as he points the tip of his spoon at the male. 

“Yes, it is.” Finn frowns, “Hurry up and finish your cereal.” 

“You’re the one that interrupted me.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Just hurry up please I’m getting cold.” 

“Baby, you have a whole-ass sweater on. The only person here that should be cold is me.” Nick gestures to the white tank top hugging his torso before he turns around to face his bowl again. 

“Hey, you’re the one that decided to change out of your shirt to put this on.” Finn starts, his pointer finger hooking underneath the strap on Nick’s tank top. “You could’ve left it on.” 

“Okay true,” Nick mumbles, his speech slightly muffled due to the food in his mouth. Finn simply hums as he watches the redhead walk over to the skin to wash his dish.

After turning off the tap and wiping his hands dry, Nick makes his way over to Finn and wordlessly grabs his hand to guide the two of them to the living room. The shorter momentarily releases his hand from Finn’s to sit down as as he reaches over to grab a pillow, the taller’s eyes stay glued to Nick’s arms which slightly flex as he reaches over. 

“I can feel you starting. Well, see you staring as well.” Nick states, his eyes momentarily shifting up to see his boyfriend before he fixes it back onto the pillow in his hand. 

“Are you sure you haven’t been working out?” Finn asks, a single hand resting on his hip as the other points at Nick. The latter quickly raises his head at his boyfriend’s question and chuckles softly before reaching forward to grab his waist. 

“Finn, we've been around each other almost every single day. I think you would know if I was working out.” Nick guides Finn to sit in his lap before he continues, “Besides, you know damn well I'm not about that physical activity shit.” 

Finn can’t help but giggle at Nick's last statement. “Oh trust me, I know. But I'm just saying that you got a little muscle building up.” 

Nick raises an eyebrow at the taller tucking his head in the crook of his neck. “I heavily beg to differ but whatever you say.” 

“Look, I'm not lying!” Finn quickly removes himself from his spot in Nick’s neck to grab into his arm. His hand quickly shifts up to the male’s bicep and the moment he squeezes the area, he feels the shorter tense underneath his fingers. “You definitely have some muscles here. Look, just flex a little.”

“Finn, I am not flexing.” 

“Come on, why not.” 

“Because.”

“Because why?” 

Nick lets out a small sigh and looks over at Finn, the sight of his puppy eyes causing his heart to ache. “Alright, enough of that.” He gently sets his hand on the taller’s face to push him away.  “If I flex my arm will you paint your nails with me?” 

“Abso-fucking-lutely. Now flex, cmon!” Nick sighs yet again and waits for Finn to remove his hand from his bicep before he quickly flexes his arm. At the excited shout escaping his boyfriend’s mouth, Nick instinctively hides his face behind his hand. “You do have muscles you fucking liar!” 

Nick doesn’t say anything and instead shakes his head in response. Finn playfully rolls his eyes at the male before he grabs the hand covering his face and slowly pries it away. “Why are you so flustered?” Finn teases, a large smile appearing on his lips at the sight of his boyfriend’s flushed face. 

“Shut it,” Nick mumbles as he leans forward to hide in Finn’s chest. The latter giggles at his boyfriend and cards a hand through his dark red locks before landing a small peck on the crown of his head. 

_____

“Baby, you know you don’t have to do a full face of makeup right? It’s not like we’re going out in public.” Nick says as he steps into his bathroom, his fingers getting to work on zipping up a purple sweater that’s loosely hung on his shoulders.

“It’s just guy-liner I swear.” Finn defends, his tall frame leaning back from the mirror to look over at the male standing next to him. He gives his boyfriend a small smile before lifting the eyeliner underneath his eye again. Nick sighs softly and shakes his head as he lifts himself on the counter. He wastes no time in grabbing Finn’s free hand and fiddling with the few rings hugging his fingers. The latter, noticing the male’s change in behavior, momentarily stops what he’s doing to look over at him. “My love?” 

Nick quickly lifts his head to meet Finn’s worried gaze. “Yeah?” 

“You’re nervous. What’s wrong?” 

“Nervous? Pshh. I’m not nervous.” Finn exhales deeply through his nose before turning his body so he’s fully facing Nick. He sends the male a knowing look before saying, “You don’t think I noticed that you play with my rings when you're nervous?” 

Nick forces his lips into a straight line and allows his gaze to fall back down to Finn’s hand which is still in his gasp. “Okay, maybe I am a little nervous.” 

A small frown makes its way onto Finn’s lips before he takes a step close to Nick and sets his free hand on his clothed thigh. “Why?”

“Don’t know.” 

“Nick…” As Finn cups the latter’s face with a single hand, Nick sighs softly and looks up at him. “Is it because this is gonna be the first video that’s gonna be posted of us being together?” Nick slowly nods his head. “Oh baby, you don’t need to be nervous about this. Just think about it like this; When this podcast gets uploaded, we can finally be open to doing whatever we want. You want us to be free with this, right?” Nick nods again. “Okay, then let’s get this done and we can do that.” 

Finn lands a quick peck on the younger’s forehead before returning to his space in front of the mirror. As he touches up his slightly smudged eyeliner, the faint sound of the door opening alerts Nick and causes his head to quickly lift and turn towards the sound. 

“You guys getting ready to go on the catwalk or what? The hell's taking so long?” The annoyed voice of Chris echoes in the bedroom as the male steps inside and makes a beeline for the open bathroom. The male sighs softly and crosses his arms over his chest when his eyes land on Nick and Finn who have both stopped what they’re doing. Finn slowly turns his head around to meet eyes with Chris, the hand that’s holding his eyeliner still inches away from his eye. 

“Just give us five more minutes,” Finn says with a soft huff. 

“Can you knock, please? You have no manners.” Nick mumbles as he lightly shoves Chris’s shoulder to push him out of the bathroom. 

“Whatever. Just hurry up please.” Chris rolls his eyes with a small sigh before he exits the room and gently shuts the door behind him. 

“You done?” Nick asks, turning his head to look over at his boyfriend who’s ruffling his hair. 

“Yeah, I'm done,” Finn replies as he shakes his head, his slightly curly bangs flopping down neatly over his forehead. “Wait, do you wanna wear something of mine before we head to the studio?” 

“Wear something of yours?” Nick repeats, a single eyebrow-raising. 

“Yeah.” Finn hums and guides the shorter out of the bathroom. “Since I'm wearing your sweater, you could wear the one I wore here. The fans would see that we’re wearing each other's clothes and they would freak out about it.” 

Nick softly hums as he watches Finn walk over to the stack of neatly folded clothes sitting on his desk. “I’m down.” As the redhead unzips his sweater and shrugs it off his body, Finn slips a hoodie with dark green and black stripes out from his pile of clothes. He walks over to Nick, the item in his right hand, and gives his boyfriend a small smile before handing it to him. “Will it fit me?” 

Finn’s smile immediately drops and he narrows his eyes at his boyfriend who gently slips the hoodie out of his hand. “Nick, are you serious?” 

“Dead serious. I’m clearly larger than you and have never worn your clothes before so.” 

“Nick… You act like you're two sizes larger than I am. You’ll be fine, baby. Just put it on.” Nick glances up at Finn and sends him an anxious expression before hesitantly slipping the hoodie over his head.

He swiftly pulls his arms through the sleeves and pulls down the end of the clothing item once it’s fully on him. Nick takes a moment to stare down at his torso and examine the hoodie loosely hugging his torso before he looks up and gives a small smile to Finn. 

“See? It fits you!” Finn beams with a wide smile. He walks closer to Nick and begins to fix his hair which was messed up while he was putting his hoodie on. As he begins to card his slim fingers through his boyfriend’s hair, the redhead hums softly and subconsciously leans into the touch. 

“Yeah, I guess it does.” Nick hums softly. “I think we should go to the studio before Chris beats our ass.” 

“I think so too. Let’s go, c'mon.” Finn takes Nick’s hand in his and intertwines their fingers before he pulls him to the door. The moment they both step out of the room, they enter the brightly lit podcast studio. 

At the sound of a door softly shutting, Matt perks his head up and looks over at Nick and Finn who are walking towards the pink and white booth he’s sitting in. 

“Finally.” Matt sighs as he shuts his phone off and tucks it under his leg. “Was starting to think that you two would never show up.” 

“Okay, calm down. We’re here, are we not?” Nick says, shooting a glare toward the younger. The male steps aside when he reaches the booth to allow Finn to take a seat first. After his boyfriend settles in front of a mic at the edge of the table, Nick slips into his usual spot in the booth as well. 

“Everyone good with their spots?” Chris asks, mainly asking his question to Finn. As he gently sets his hands on both sides of his mic, Finn abruptly lifts his head to meet Chris’ gaze. After locking eyes with the boy, he gently nods his head and shoots the male a small smile. 

“The cameras are on right?” Nick asks, his eyes drifting from the various cameras tucked in the corners of the room. 

“Yeah, they’re on. We’re all good to go, kid. Start when you’re ready.” Matt confirms with a small head nod. 

Nick lets out a small exhale through his nose before looking over at Finn who’s sitting fairly close to him, however not close to the point they’d be in the same camera frame. The taller looks over at the younger and swiftly takes his hand that’s under the table.

As he begins to trace comforting circles on the back of the redhead’s hand, Nick cracks a smile and averts his attention back to his mic. He looks down at it for a moment and glances over Chris, who gives him an encouraging head nod. Nick nods faintly, more as a reassurance thing for himself, before he looks towards his camera. 

“Good morning Campers and welcome back to the Cut The Camera Podcast!” Nick greets, a warm smile immediately taking over his features. “I am Nick Sturniolo and I will be your favorite host for today's episode.” 

“Yeah, yeah favorite host my ass.” Matt mumbles, rolling his eyes for a brief moment before he looks at his respective camera. “I’m Matt by the way.” 

“And I'm Chris!” The youngest triplets exclaims, a large smile clear as day on his face. The male plays his imaginary air guitar for a moment and mimics the sound of the said instrument before he stops and rests his hands on the table in front of him. 

“I’m going to go ahead and do the small introduction for this episode because someone over here is getting nervous.” Matt begins, his eyes shifting over to lock with Nick’s who sends him a warning glare. “Today is a very special episode because we have someone joining us today. You guys might know this person, some of you may not, but I'll allow Nick to introduce this person to you guys. Nick?” 

“Thanks Matt,” Nick mumbles, his voice trailing off as he subconsciously begins to fidget with Finn’s fingers under the table. 

“Is that sarcasm?” 

“That’s up to your interpretation.” Matt shakes his head with a soft sigh as Nick looks over at his boyfriend. The redhead can’t help but smile when the male sends him a small wink and quickly looks away from him to look at his camera. “Today joining us in the studio is my boyfriend, Finn. Would you like to introduce yourself to the viewers and or listeners?” 

“I’d love to.” Finn replies with a small smile. He brings his mic closer to his mouth with his free hand before he continues, “Hey guys, I’m Finn as you may know. I am 21 years old and have been dating Nick for almost three months now. I am a full-time Instagram influencer but am close to being a full-time model as well.” 

“Wait, you're close to being a full-time model? I thought that was a side job you had.” Chris asks, his head tilting to the side as he looks over at the blue-haired male. 

“Yeah, it was a side job but since my manager, shoutout to Kim.” Finn starts, making a small finger heart with his free hand before he continues, “Has been booking me a lot more, I’ve been getting more modeling opportunities. It’s like every other day that I need to go to a shoot so I'd say that I'm very close to modeling full-time.” 

“This isn’t a question we have prepped but since we’re on the topic, would you drop Instagram if you did decide to go full-time with modeling? I know that job is a lot, from what I hear from you, and I'm just wondering if it’d be a little difficult to juggle two jobs at once.” 

“That’s a very good question hmm..” Finn ponders for a moment, his lips momentarily shifting into a straight line as he thinks. “I don’t think so, no. Instagram means a lot to me considering how much of a following I have on there and everything. Not to mention how I started my entire career there so I think that suddenly dumping Instagram would be a lot. I’ve been healthy balancing that and modeling with no problem right now so keeping up my account shouldn’t be a problem if and when I decide to go full-time with modeling.” 

“I see, I see.” Matt hums, “Was it hard making a face for yourself on social media through Instagram? I feel like it’s a lot harder for people to reach popularity through Instagram since there’s so much on there. Also, guys, don’t worry we will get into relationship questions here in a minute.” 

Finn chuckles softly at Matt’s last statement, his head dropping for a second before he looks back up and replies, “It was a little difficult, yes but I just kept being constant with posts and stuff. I feel like the key to growing on any base is being consistent so that’s exactly what I did. I did experience some setbacks a few years into gaining popularity but I got over them eventually.” 

“When did you start social media? Like age-wise.” Chris asks. 

“I wanna say like 16,” Finn replies with a small head nod. “I wanted to start way younger but my parents didn’t let me so.” 

“I feel like 16 is a decent age to start this stuff at. I mean we started our YouTube career at 17 and just continued to work towards getting popularity. I was about to say fame but I find that a little corny. Besides, I think fame is too big of a word to describe what we have right now.” 

“I completely agree with the fame thing. I would never use that term to describe myself, no matter how big I get. I just feel like that’s more of a celebrity term. You know, singers and actors usually have that term tied to their names.” 

“Yes! I completely agree!” Matt exclaims, his voice raising a few octaves as he points a single finger at Finn. 

“Great minds think alike,” Finn says with a large smile. The two share a quick handshake before Chris breaks the small silence. 

“Nick, I haven't heard from you in a good minute. You doing okay over there?” Chris asks, a teasing smile creeping onto his lips as he glances over at the older who’s staring at his boyfriend. 

“Huh?” Nick hums, quickly snapping out of his gaze when Chris’ voice runs through his ears. “Oh, yeah I'm fine.” 

“He’s been staring at Finn this whole time. Is the sun shining out of his ass or something?” Matt asks, adding to the teasing as he nudges Nick with his foot. 

“Alright, enough of that. I didn’t sign up to sit through an hour of teasing from the two of you.” Nick mumbles, shifting his gaze from Finn to his two brothers. As he seemingly stares daggers at the two, Finn speaks up. 

“I can smell the edits now,” Finn says with a small laugh. “Oh my God, the way he looks at him.” 

“Not you too,” Nick says, his jaw dropping slightly as he looks over at his boyfriend who’s already gazing down at him. 

“I gotta agree with Finn here. I’m gonna see a shit ton of edits of the two of you on my for you page after this episode is out.” Chris chimes in, his speech slightly muffled due to his hands covering and rubbing his face. 

“Speaking of which!” Finn exclaims with a small smile, “If you guys make any edits of Nick, tag me in them, please. I need to see every single Nick edit in existence for me to live a happy life, thank you.” 

“Baby, I'm literally right here. Why do you need to see edits of me when I'm right next to you?” Nick asks, his eyebrows furring together as a bewildered expression takes over his features. Before he allows Finn to reply, he points at his camera and says, “Do the same with me please but for Finn edits, thanks.” 

“Okay, fucking hypocrite. I was just about to defend myself but it seems like we both have the same idea.” 

“Okay but in my defense, I rarely see edits of you. I need more in my life, seriously.” 

“What the hell is this conversation?” Chris laughs, gaining a small shrug from Matt who’s simply staring at the couple in front of him in disbelief. 

“Can we go back to questioning the kid, please? Or you two to be specific?” Matt asks, chucking when Nick and Finn both stop their conversation to look over at him. 

“My bad. Go ahead with the questions.” Finn apologizes with a small giggle. 

“Alright, first question about you and Nick.” Chris begins, scrolling through his notes for a moment before continuing, “When did you two first meet? Matt and I know what went down but the fans don’t so please enlighten us.” 

“Enlighten us is crazy,” Nick mumbles, his statement earning a small chuckle from his boyfriend. 

“Do you wanna say it or should I?” Finn asks, adjusting his position on the booth slightly so he can face the male next to him. 

“You can,” Nick replies with a small smile.

Finn gently nods his head and clears his throat before he starts explaining, “So the triplets and I were invited to this large influencer party in downtown LA. When I first met Nick, I found him staring at the bottles of liquor like he was seeing colors for the first time. I asked if he needed help and he agreed and let me help him. And before you guys say anything, I made him the least alcoholic beverages possible. Anyways Nick doesn’t know this but I could see him staring at me out of the corner of my eye the whole time I was getting his drinks.” 

“YOU COULD?” Nick exclaims, his face flushing in embarrassment as he looks wide-eyed at the male next to him. 

“Yeah, I could.” Finn giggles. 

“Stop, that's so embarrassing, oh my God.” As Nick hides his face in his hands, collective laughter sounds from the three boys in the studio. 

“Hey, I was staring at you too so it’s fine.” 

“You were?” 

“Absolutely, yes. The second you left the drinking area, I purposely dragged my friends closer to the area you guys were at so I could get a better look at you.” 

“I didn’t see you when I was looking for you, though. You must’ve found a good spot.” 

“You were looking for me?” Finn smiles widely at Nick as the male’s face heats up and takes on a soft red hue. 

Nick sputters for a moment before he voices his reply, “Yeah when we were leaving.” 

“Seeing how easily Finn makes Nick all flustered like this is fucking insane to me.” Matt states as he rubs a hand over his chin. 

“You guys will definitely see more of this when we get Finn in vlogs and whatnot but this kid literally has Nick wrapped around his pinkie finger. It’s fucking hilarious.” Chris adds with a small laugh. 

“Okay, can you two shut up please? Thanks.” Nick says, subtly flipping off the two males before he turns to face Finn again. 

“They do have a point, my love. You do get flustered quite easily.” Finn says, his statement earning a hurtful expression to spread across Nick’s face. Before the male gets to retaliate, the taller grabs his face with a single hand and brings him closer to him. Nick’s face darkens a shade or two as his nose brushes against his boyfriend’s and he slowly shrinks in his seat under the male’s strong gaze. 

“CLIP THAT! CLIP THAT!” Chris exclaims as he gets out of his seat and points at the two boys a few steps away from him. 

“The editors are gonna get a kick out of this episode.” Matt says, his eyes staying fixed onto Nick who’s staring up at Finn with slightly wide eyes. 

“Nick editors to be exact.” 

“Can yall shut it please.” Nick mutters, his efforts of sounding threading failing when Finn sends him a heart melting smile. 

“Finn, you’re gonna kill him.” 

“I’m stopping, I'm stopping.” 

_______

It’s currently Monday and Nick and Finn are huddled up in the redhead’s bedroom. A random movie they both agreed to watch is playing on the television however neither of the boys are paying any attention to it. Rather, the two are too occupied in being wrapped in each other's arms under a large blanket they stole from Chris. Comfortable silence drifts between the two, the only real sound filling the room being the movie and their synced breaths. 

“The podcast episode is being released in ten minutes,” Nick mumbles, his soft voice breaking the small silence in the room. 

Finn lifts his head from his spot on Nick’s chest. “Really?” 

Nick hums in response. “That means you’re gonna have to let me get up so I can upload it.” 

Finn chuckles softly and reluctantly removes himself from Nick’s hold to sit up and lean against the headboard. He takes a moment to stretch his sore limbs before he looks over at his boyfriend who hasn’t moved from his position. “Do you want me to get your laptop or are you gonna get up?” 

Nick shifts his eyes from the television in front of him to look over at Finn. “Can you get it for me, please? I’m too comfortable.” 

“Of course, give me a second.” Nick silently watches as Finn gets out from underneath the covers and slips off the mattress. The male walks a few steps to arrive at Nick's desk and disconnects any wires connected to his laptop before picking it up and returning to bed. “Here you go, my love.” 

“Thank you, baby.” Nick sends Finn a warm smile as he hands him his laptop. It was only then that the redhead decided to sit up and lean against the headboard. As he sets his laptop on his lap and turns it on, Finn shuffles closer to the male and leans against his shoulder. “I can’t believe this is happening.” 

“What? Us coming out as a couple to the public?” 

“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, I'm glad we’re doing this but I'm still a little nervous.” 

“I am too, but don't worry too much. We got this.” Finn sits up a little to nestle his face in the crook of Nick’s neck. The latter can’t help but tense up at the feeling of the taller peppering the side of his neck with soft and tender kisses. Nick opens his mouth to comment on his boyfriend’s behavior but cuts himself off when the male bites down on the skin under his ear.

“Finn,” Nick whines, his eyes shut tightly as he subconsciously tits his neck to the side to give the male more access to his skin. 

“Hmm?” Finn hums, his focus staying fixed on the younger’s skin in between his teeth.

“I need to upload this, you’re distracting me.” 

“Am I now?” 

“Yes you-“ Nick cuts himself off yet again when Finn begins to suck on the same area he was biting moments prior. A low groan slips out of Nick's mouth as he moves his laptop off his lap and grabs his boyfriend’s bicep. “Finn, please.” 

The latter bites down on Nick’s tender skin once more before finally stopping and pulling away. Finn eyes the area he marked for a moment and can’t help the proud smile forming on his lips as the sight of a purpling spot under the redhead’s ear. “Might need to cover that up before we go downstairs.” Finn says as he rubs over the area with his index finger. 

“You’re helping me.” Nick grumbles as he grabs his laptop and pulls it back on his lap. “I’m getting your aas back for this by the way.” 

“I’d like to see you try.” Nick looks over at Finn and takes in his cocky grin. The male can’t help but scoff softly at the sight and returns to uploading the podcast episode. It only takes about five minutes for Nick to upload the video and when he’s done, he softly shuts his laptop and sets it on the nearby nightstand. 

“I’d like to try now.” 

_____

“Guys the fans are going fucking insane. I swear i’ve never seen so many fan pages edit a video of ours so quick-“ Matt starts as he opens the door to Nick’s room. He quickly shuts his mouth and stares wide-eyed at the two shirtless males on the bed, the only thing covering their lower halves being the blanket they were using earlier. Nick quickly slips off Finn and looks over at Matt who’s standing in the doorway, his face flush in embarrassment. 

“Matt! Fucking knock!” Nick exclaims as he pulls the blanket up to his chest. 

“My bad. I'm gonna go bleach my eyes now.” Matt sputters, his words mumbling together as he quickly exits the room and loudly shuts the door behind him. 

“God, that kid.” As Nick lets out a heavy exhale, he looks over at Finn who’s still lying on his back.

He takes a moment to stare at the male while his eyes are still shut and allows his eyes to wander down to his slightly parted lips which are taking in heavy inhales of air, his chest rapidly rising in the process. Nick’s eyes eventually wander to the taller’s hair, which is a lot messier considering what they were doing before they got interrupted. Before he allows his gaze to wander down to his exposed chest, Nick quickly rips his gaze away when Finn opens his eyes. 

“We should do this more often.” Finn breathes out as he blinks up at the male hovering over him. 

“Are you sure about that? I don't think you could go for much longer considering how fucked you look right now.”

“Oh, I looked fucked right now?” As Nick hums softly in response, Finn sits up slightly and leans against his arms, the crown of his head inches away from the headboard of the bed. As the taller gazes up at his boyfriend, he can’t help but let his eyes wander down to his chest. “Wait, I just realized you don’t have a shirt on.” 

“Oh,” Nick quickly looks down at his torso and peeks into the gap made from the blanket covering the majority of his upper half. “Yeah, I don't.” 

As Nick looks back over at Finn, a confused expression overtakes his features at the sight of the taller’s wide smile. “Why are you smiling so hard?” 

“Well it’s just that you’ve always been so huge on keeping a shirt on and not allowing anyone to see you shirtless and the fact that you are currently topless is just making me a little happy. You know,  because you were comfortable enough to take your tank top off and be bare during what we just did.” 

“Oh,” Nick mumbles again, a single arm raising to rub his nape. “Yeah, I do feel quite comfortable with you now. Besides, I feel like if we’re going to have 

sex or make out then I can't have my shirt on.” 

Finn’s eyebrows furrow at Nick’s last statement and he quickly sits upright. “Love, you know you don’t have to feel obligated to not have a top on when we do this shit right?” Silence falls over the two boys for a moment.

At the sight of Nick forcing his lips together and looking off to the side, Finn heavily sighs and leans his head against the male’s shoulder. “Sweetheart, if we’re going to have sex or shit like that, it is completely okay with me if you want to keep your clothes on. It’s not like I'm going to get upset or anything. I want you to be comfortable, okay?” 

“Okay.” When Nick turns his head to look over at Finn, the latter immediately captures his lips with his for a quick kiss. When the taller pulls away, he removes himself from his boyfriend’s shoulder and begins patting the area around him. “What are you doing?” Nick asks, his eyebrows knitting together as he watches the male slip his hand under the blanket. 

“I wanna see the feedback from the podcast episode. Matt said the fans are flipping their shit and I wanna see it for myself.” Finn replies, momentarily shifting his gaze to look at Nick before he pulls his phone out from under the blanket. As Nick gently nods his head with a small hum, Finn situates himself back against his shoulder and unlocks his phone. “I’m gonna check Tiktok first.” 

Finn spins his thumb around a few times as his eyes scan his lock screen for the said app and when he finally finds it, he clicks it open. It didn’t take a single scroll from the male for a video of himself and Nick to pop up on his feed. Immediately, the room fills with the sound of both boys talking with Daylight by Taylor Swift playing softly in the back. 

“I’m just really grateful that I met Nick at that party. At the time, I was struggling mentally, obviously, it wasn’t shown on social media and I tried my best to now show it either, but when I met him I just felt all my worries and shit wash away. He brings me such peace and happiness and seeing him nearly every single day just makes me so fucking happy. Honest to God, I don’t know what I would be doing if I never went to that bar that night.” Finn says, his eyes not breaking away from Nick’s as he looks at the male with a loving and heart-stuck gaze. 

“God don’t even get me started with how amazing a boyfriend he is. I swear he knows me better than I know myself. He knows me like the back of his hand and immediately knows if something is up just by looking at me. He’s so caring and sweet and I need to figure out how to repay him because he’s just so fucking amazing.” 

“Oh, cut the bullshit.” Nick states, his eyes rolling rather playfully before he shifts his eyes up back to Finn’s, “I haven’t really been in a proper relationship before so all this shit is new to me, and still kinda is in a sense, but I appreciate how Finn takes things so slow with me. Like when we first started dating yes we kissed and whatnot but it was slow like how we both agreed on. He didn’t overstep any of my boundaries and constantly asked me if what he was doing was okay with me physical touch wise and always asked if I was comfortable. I couldn’t be more thankful for how patient he was with me. I could go on a whole fucking tangent about how much I care and appreciate this kid but I think I’d need a whole other podcast episode for that.” 

“Might as well give you guys another episode to gush about each other,” Chris says with a chuckle. 

“Well, the next podcast episode will be a Nick and Finn exclusive guys! Be on the lookout for it.” Matt exclaims as he points at the camera in front of him. 

“Okay, don’t put that out there. Doing this shit was anxiety-inducing enough. We’ll feed the people when we feed like feeding them.” Nick says, his statement earning a small head nod from Finn. 

“Nick and Finn content soon guys!” Finn exclaims with a wide smile.

The TikTok continues for a little while longer with various clips of the couple being shown as Daylight plays more loudly. Nick and Finn take a moment to scroll through the latter’s for you page, the sight of the support from hundreds of fan pages bringing large smiles to their faces. 

“I think this was a success, don’t you think?” Finn asks as he shuts his phone off and reaches over to set it on the nightstand.

“I completely agree,” Nick replies with a small head nod. As Finn returns to his previous spot against the headboard, Nick wordlessly moves the blanket further down his legs to lay down on his lap. “Should we do a photo dump later?” 

“If you want, it’s your call.” Nick nods his head and abruptly stops when Finn begins to card his fingers through his hair. The redhead can’t help but the large smile creeping onto his lips as he subconsciously leans into his boyfriend’s hand, his actions drawing a smile from the taller who’s gazing down at him. 

“Thank you for being with me.” 

“Oh, Nick.” Finn bends down to land a soft kiss on Nick’s temple. “I should be thanking you, to be honest.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Nick mumbles. The male takes a moment to flip onto his stomach and bury his face in Finn’s bare thigh. “Let me be sappy please.” 

Finn softly laughs at the male, “Alright, alright.” 

As Nick begins to land light kisses on Finn’s thigh, the latter begins to drag his fingertips up and down the younger’s bare back. The moment Nick feels the male’s fingers lightly brush against his skin, he tenses up with a choked giggle. 

“Finn…” Nick warns, “Don’t fucking start I swear to God.” 

“I’m not doing anything?” Finn asks, his eyebrows furrowing in pure confusion as he dips his head down to glance at the male in his lap. 

“Finn, you know damn well what you’re doing.” 

“Do you want me to stop? I will if you want me to.” 

“No, no!” Nick quickly reaches an arm back to grab Finn’s hand when he pulls away. “I didn’t mean to sound harsh or anything, I promise. It just feels really weird.” 

“Oh,” Finn mumbles with a small chuckle. “So can I continue?” When Nick nods his head and returns to his spot in Finn’s thigh, the latter continues his previous actions. 

The two sat there for the remainder of the day, their energy levels boosted up to the max simply by being in each other’s presence. Both boys finally had a weight they’d had on their shoulders for a month lifted off their backs and they couldn’t be happier. They finally felt free to do whatever they wanted couple-wise and knew that the fans would eat up all the content they gave them. They were forever grateful for the fans and made sure they were plenty aware of the fact through a few ‘thank you’ posts made on their public stories. 

In all, both Finn and Nick continued to stay happy with one another. They relied on each other constantly and were always there for one another. Nothing was getting in between the couple, their bond was simply unbreakable. Yes, they still had a long way to go in terms of their relationship but they were very content with where they are right now. Considering how the full story of how these two boys met and stole each other's hearts has finally ended on a happy note, most would believe that this would be the end. 

But that is not the case for Nick and Finn. 

Who says that there will stop being more content just because their series has ended? Their story has just started! 

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· TagList ·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

@freshloveforthefit @thenickgirl @patscorner @frankdelreyy @sturnssan @kileybankzz @robins-scoop @miloisdone1 @rootbeerworshiper @rubyperic-09 @teenagetrash00 @maryx2xx

comment to be added to the taglist and click here to know more abt it!

#sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #azul talks ✮ #matt x reader #nick x reader #chris x reader #nick sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo fluff #nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo imagine #nick sturniolo x male reader #nick sturniolo x you

[thewriterg]

♡︎𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞♡︎

pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader, sub!wanda x dom!reader, Thor Odinson x fem!reader, Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

summary: Wanda had been teasing you all night and your patience was beyond thin with the witch so you get a little revenge and give her a punishment early when she steps a little too close with a toaster

word count: 880+

warning(s): Reader is a empath, magical orgasms, overstimulation, dirty talk, public sex not really but kinda, jealousy, kisses, and language

A/n:—GIF; @dreamgirlevil & @nikolatexla— you guys seem to like sub Wanda so here we are

You sat at the bar talking to a very bright and loud Thor as and a smirking Natasha Tony forced invited you and your girlfriend Wanda to his Christmas party at first you had no intention to attend whatsoever but your little witch could be very persuading

The red skirt she wore with a thick black belt and and and even bigger buckle to impersonate old Saint Nick was very distracting but you had set a note for yourself that kept you focused on the conversation at once

You’d get your gif sooner or later.

You’d get your gif sooner or later.

Thor telling some story about Asgard never seem to put a very infrequent smile on your face you viewed the man as a father of the sorts him, Natasha, and Bucky tied when it came to opening up the most

Usually you were all ears for the blondes story times but as you scanned through the unnecessarily large crowd your smile dropped as the view of Wanda talking to Vision twisting the tips of her in her fingertips as a Santa hat rested on the top of her head

As you began to look back at the group of people you sat around you could see Natasha in your face smirking wide at you and you couldn’t help but advert your glare from the advanced res toaster across the room to the redhead assassin in front of you

“Are you alright lady Y/n? Your eyes seem to be flashing war” Thor spoke up from his position completely oblivious and innocent to the silent conversation You and Natasha were having beside you placing a large hand on your shoulder

“I’m fine Goldie, I would really like to meet Heimdall one day but I have to excuse myself” Your eyes only left Natasha’s when you spoke of the Gods mentor and all around best friend as he nodded with a bright smile on his face sending you off

As you got up from your position sitting on a bar stool your hands rested at your side as you swifted and swayed your fingers walking through the crowd of people

💌💌💌💌

Wanda felt herself pause mind going blank as she listed to the words the fell from Visions lips in the air her vision went blurry and Vision could see the redheads eyes flash crimson as Wanda felt a pleasurable torture in her underwear it felt as if 1000 orgasms was rushing over her core at once

“e-excuse me for a second v-vision” Wanda attempted to excuse herself before your arm wrapped around her shoulder you could feel the witch’s glossy eyes on you but your line of sight was focused on the human like android in front of you

“Vision, how are you this evening?” Wanda could tell you were in no mood to talk and your question to the man had a purpose for you own pleasure

“Delighted Ms. Y/l/n, I was just Talking to Wanda about our last mission” There was slight smugness in his voice that had you tilting your head a certain way as Wanda gripped onto the fabric of your sweater a small gasp coming from her parted lips as she squeezed her legs closed

The last mission he happened to be talking about was a small one in Afghanistan that him along with Wanda and Steve took while you were on your own mission in Wisconsin and you couldn’t help but want to wipe the smug look right off Visions face

“Congratulations on your success, my darling here told me all about how she had to heal you in the field never got much of it but I know surprise shots could be a scare we’ll not for most of us who just have faster reflexes” Vision was breaking under the pressure of your game and you loved ever Meer passing second of it

But you were getting impatient and Wanda knew that you were about to end your game and it caused a dripping to run down her thighs to her feet that rested in the black boots she wore

“Now it was nice talking to you Vision, but me and Wanda should get going I apologize if you hear a little commotion tonight but I think that’ll teach you a little something about the way you talk to my witch”

Just as you finished your sentence Wanda came with a loud cry that you couldn’t hear over the music unless you were close and Vision was indeed close enough

“Tell Vision goodnight Wanda.” You demanded lightly as the redheads body shook in your side at the overstimulation reaching down you pinched her bottom as she gasped her hips jerking

“g-g-goodnight vision-n” You gave one more smile to the a android before turning around trailing off with Wanda right on your trying to keep her wobbly legs under control as she passed greeting guests

“Pull something like that again and I’ll fuck you stupid right in front of him” You growled into the girls ear as you both made your way into the elevator

“Y-yes mam” Wanda didn’t think she had stuttered in less than five minutes in her life but even if she wanted to think about her brain was clouded with euphoria and ecstasy

Wanda knew it would be a long night for her.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x female reader #sub!wanda #dom!reader #the avengers #avengers smut #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers x y/n #avengers x fem!reader #the avengers imagine #smut #romance #fluff #fem!reader #2022 #i love you #thewriterg

[clarks-letterman]

i can’t stop thinking about connor’s cum now so what about him fucking your mouth while giving you technical information about his cum in a seductive way to turn you on and ending up coming in your throat for you to swallow (gender neutral reader please!)

new fuck-tionality | connor x reader

a/n — gahh i'm so sorry this being super late, it must have completely slipped by me in my inbox! also, things have been a bit rough lately.. i tried to make it sexy with logic from the game and such, hopefully its good :') sorry if he's ooc (this can kinda be read as Nines too since they're both Connors)

summary — check the request, added a bit about Connor's getting a new dick.

words — 1.9k

warnings — oral (m receiving), face-fucking, crackfic because i got jokes and i think I'm funny

~~~

The floor was cold and almost impossible to detect the presence of it in the dim light. Connor had turned the bulb's intensity down so as to cast away the janitorial supplies circling him and you, re-tooling its purpose into being the world's most revealing spotlight, but only to you and how you felt. The smell was apparent enough to remind you of their persisting existence, though having artificially scented disinfectants made your nose wrinkle. It was hard to keep your mind from trailing off to those little details, as the beast pointing to the ceiling looked like it would hurt. 

Connor's leg flexed, his foot nearly reaching the door of the small closet. "Is everything alright, Detective? You look hesitant. May I remind you that this was your idea?"

It wasn't normally like this, to have one hand down your pants with the other toying with Connor in whatever way you could think of. Not in the slightest. The usual routine was a standard nine-to-five at the office, sharing glances until you returned home with Connor on your heels—another night where he would drift off into rest mode with you by his side, built up to by the sweet pillow-talk about your shared dreams of getting the nicest apartment in Detroit. Then, you woke up, and those dreams would fade away for the time being, except the ones about Connor. He had managed to fulfill them a few times with toys and other things but could never fully understand the way you felt about him.

Last night was the only exception. Connor left work early and didn't tell you where he was going. It wasn't until the next day when taking a seat at the desk next to him, did you finally notice the shift in his behavior. He had taken a glance or two at you before, flashing his dazzling ivory smile if you happened to return the look. But earlier today, you caught him looking, and he stiffened.

"I know, it's just the size of it. Say something. Distract me."

Once you asked to speak with him in private, did it all make sense. Connor's sex drive did exist, but not in the way it presented itself in humans. He had a physical hard drive, motor, and drivers for all of his sexual wants, but physically, the need for sex would never exist. Like sleep, he was perfectly content without it. . . until today.

"I could tell you about my recent trip to CyberLife? All the new features I've been equipped with?"

The well-designed piece was only a short distance from you, waiting for any sort of attention. But that one comment made it look even more impatient.

"I'm already looking at the biggest upgrade. . ."

"Don't just look, Detective. To be good at your job, you have to feel, understand, and gain as much information as the other knows. We are at work, after all." He stated himself with a certain cockiness. “I received an update on my explicit language, too. Though, I’m not sure what brings me the most excitement.”

“Then we’ll test it out,” you said, knowing he started when taking a jab at your shared positions as investigators.

Getting a good look at his dick, your hand barely fit around it, which you knew from one glance. You were unable to tell if it was the dim light or something wrong with your perception, but his new parts looked imperfectly perfect. Human. When it was at its most needy—which would be hard to tell since this new appendage between Connor's legs was artificial; could its appearance deceive you and turn into an actual sword like all those writers described it as?—it curved slightly, like a snake on the hunt for warmth. There was a small birthmark on the side and a few veins emanating a vibrant blue as they pulsed. You weren't sure if they served a purpose like the dulled color of yours or if they were simply for show, another integrative feature in his design. And the skin stretched and folded like that of a real person's when your hand played with it. Even his low-hanging fruit underneath appeared to be slightly out of proportion on one side, becoming apparent as you worked your hand along his length and watched them shift with each motion.

After a few seconds of deliberating with yourself about taking the piece of convincingly real and intimidating plastic, you swilled the saliva in your mouth and eclipsed the tip with your lips.

Near immediately, Connor became a mess of indiscernible noise—a moan, you figured. You had never heard him like this before, so you assumed it was a good thing by the look of his scrunched-up face. He calmed down and tried speaking, "That's one of my new features."

Your eyes flicked up, silently agreeing to hear more.

"I have almost one-billion micro-receptors on it alone. When I feel this way, all of them have a high pressure sensitivity. Anything you do down there feels like when I became a deviant all over again."

You couldn't reply, instead letting him creep further into your mouth, mouth full with no taste of that except your own saliva. He seemed to be the one encouraging you to go deeper, and he felt hotter on your tongue. Was he getting so into this that he started to overheat?

It wasn't really that at all. Connor wanted to keep himself tame to prevent the bruising he knew would happen. He could lie—a welcomed feature of his deviancy—and chalk it up to a software instability. A "calibration of the new hardware," he could say. Connor wasn't human, yet he was more than fallible now that he was no longer a machine. He could never do that, though. Not to you. His dick was his new toy to play with, not you and your fragile body. So, he kept talking to fight his carnal desires.

"Also, everything that comes from it is made in me, like a person. There are some side-effects, though."

That drew your attention away from trying to fit him into your mouth, and you paused.

"Nothing harmful, Detective! Just some by-products of making it with thirium. One of them is that it's actually nutritious, unlike its pure form. It's done through synthesis and filtration of the main mineral that affects hormone production. I believe that, if you had enough of its pure form, you would become addicted to me," he spoke all of it with an assured tone and a small smirk to follow the last comment.

You wouldn't be doing this for him if you weren't already madly addicted to him, but that wouldn't lessen it by any means. The thought of his cock becoming a necessity was a terrifying risk you were willing to take.

"Your heart rate spiked. Are you enjoying this, Detective?"

No secrets, either. That was a dangerous combination. It didn't look like Connor planned to hide anything, too. "I know I am, watching your pretty mouth struggle to take me all. There's something I wanted to try. I wanted to be sure I wouldn't break my toy first."

You reached the base of his dick, all of it radiating heat on your tongue and everything that poured into your throat doing the same. There were a few seconds where you could take it all in; the weight of him on your tongue, how his head tilted up to the ambient lighting, and that Connor must have undone his tie and the first few buttons of his crisp white dress shirt. To say this was like a pain to Connor would be a terrible analogy. He could truly feel this, and this felt like heaven. Like his system was overloaded with the small feelings that dogs and heavy metal gave him. He liked those, but he loved this to an extent that meant he wasn't certain how to express them.

It all stemmed from a feeling inside him that he had trouble putting into words. He wanted to jump up and down and solve one-hundred murders and buy you the nicest things he could search up in just a few milliseconds. Then a hand of his found your head, and that's when he knew what to do with his surfeit emotions.

His eyes cast down on you, much harsher than the light, his grip tightened, and you found yourself sliding away from the view between his legs. He was in control, pushing you back down in a matter of seconds after bringing your lips to the tip. Strings of pleasure stirred from Connor's lips. A whimper and moan made up the two main harmonies of his tune, the others being half-spoken words that barely made a lick of sense. He reverted to the strategy of talking again, keeping himself tamer than he would prefer to be. His light-emitting diode flickered a red ring at his self-restraint.

"I think this will be my favorite use of our free time from now on. I had them install more than just this setting, too."

Connor started to lift his hips off the down-turned bucket as a pace formed. He had gotten rough enough for the spit to start to well in your mouth and pump out the sides of your mouth every time he buried his cock deep in you.

"Look at the mess you're making." He spat out, "And when it's all said and done, you will have to—fuck, Detective—meticulously clean it. Wouldn't want anyone uncovering the clues we left behind."

Connor had pushed himself to the edge. Talking about the risky business in the janitor's closet and his newest upgrades would do that to any android or human. But he could see it now. Each case that frustrated him or even a pleasant day could be made a thousand times better with his new relief system.

His hips bucked forward, and his thrusts halted. He went stiff, lifeless against you as his cock filled your throat. The anticipated android release hit your throat and coated it in a color that you would expect to be white, mostly for the simplicity of it all. It kept coming in consistent waves until Connor's high had ridden itself out and the waves crashing in his head settled into a low tide. Some of his dickspit spilled from the corners of your mouth.

Connor didn't need any time to recuperate and simply let you go from his already softening girth. You raised a hand to swipe some of the come from your chin, finding the smeared drop to be a pale blue.

"Does it taste bad?" He asked out of curiosity while cleaning up his appearance by fastening the buttons of his shirt and tightening his tie into the right spot.

"Not really, it mostly tastes like how red ice smells."

"You may not want to come to work tomorrow. An article I read says that actions like that often cause lips to swell and your jaw to feel bruised. We should stay home tomorrow." Connor emphasized we in his suggestion.

"And we can take off the tomorrow after tomorrow. Unfortunately, we're at work right now, so at least those things don't appear until the next day." You said and reached for the door handle to get out as quickly as possible, not that you wanted to leave Connor, but your co-workers—especially Hank—would get suspicious.

"Actually, Detective?" You turned at his call, his innocent voice perforating the air of sexual electricity. "Your tongue, it's blue."

#request #connor x male reader #connor x reader #connor rk800 #dbh connor #connor x gender neutral reader #dbh connor x male reader #dbh connor x reader #dbh connor x gender neutral reader #rk800 x male reader #rk800 x reader #rk800 x gender neutral reader #dbh x reader #dbh rk800 #dbh rk800 x reader #dbh #detroit become human #detroit x reader #rk800 x gn reader #connor x gn reader #rk800 dbh #detroit become human rk800

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

Crossfire Jack Reacher(Alan Ritchson) x AFAB/F!Reader Excerpt

General Warnings: 18+, as is the whole of my blog, I will mark anything specific but be aware this is predominantly a smutty blog with plot. DNI if you are a minor. By reading further you have taken the responsibility to do so with the warnings I have given.

Specific Warnings: This is pure smut with story (but it’s mostly about the smut), Size kink, teasing, mutual pining, angst, P in V unprotected (birth control and trust re STI’s(get checked up and keep your partners informed frens)), drinking, swearing, mentions of violence, mentions of war/war fighting, mentions of PTS/PTSD, trauma, military terminology, strip teasing, rough sex, size kink, (small) praise kink, feisty Reader.

No mention of Y/N, Reader has nicknames, Teach/Bambi, was in the army with reacher, still doing covert stuff as a mercenary.

Finished a OneShot that I couldn’t get out of my head, might become Multi-chapter but we’ll see. Here’s an Excerpt.

““You two ever actually fuck?” Frankie asks you and you almost choke on the dregs of your beer.

“No, never, fucking hell Neagley, you trying to kill me?” You splutter, well aware that you’re far too flustered. Reacher notices it too and you see the vein on his neck pop as he stifles a triumphant smile.

“You should have, would’ve made things easier.” She shrugs as she takes another swig of her beer.

“That’s rich coming from you.” You needle back, knowing well that your relationship was tight knit enough to make that joke.

“Fair, but you’re a slutty little bisexual, either fuck him and get it over and done with or get over yourself.” Frankie says with a twitch of her lips. She has you there. The only thing that ever stopped you from fucking Reacher was your own ego.

“Fuck you.” You grumble as you gesture between your empty drinks before asking the obvious, “You want another?”

“As long as you’re buying.” Frankie says with a dazzling smile.

“Always, be back in a flash.” You say with a smirk. You love Frankie, you’d even, sort-of kind-of, dated for a while when you left the service, but Frankie being such a haptephobiac scuppered things for you both. You loved each other dearly but you’re a tactile, sexual person, and having to supress your own instincts wasn’t healthy for either of you. But it didn’t stop you loving one another, and that was something neither of you denied, you just expressed it differently, and that was ok.

You make your way to the bar, waiting patiently as the other, dressed up women got served before you. You’d grown used to it, you never dressed up, not for weddings, not for funerals, not for anyone. It had it’s perks, but in a bar, it meant you were served when you were served. You drum your fingers on the edge of the bar after a while, slowly getting tired of waiting.

“Hey,” Reacher’s low rumble makes you shiver as his large form cages you in. His navy shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows as you see the firm, thick cords of his forearms hem you in as his large hands rest on the bar, “How’s Civvy life treating you?” He breathes into the shell of your ear as you shudder beneath him.

“Shit, I can’t be as lucky as you and land myself in the middle of murder investigations and big ol’ conspiracies like you J.” You say, using the nickname you know he hates.

“It cost me a brother, so I don’t know if you can call that luck.” He growls against your skin as he inches forward slowly. You feel the brush of his fucking marbled pecs against your shoulders as he tries to draw you in. This was a dance you had both done many times, riling the other up, pushing the limits to breaking point. But there was always an angle, exploiting each other’s vulnerabilities to get what you wanted, or needed.

It’s the toxic part of your relationship with Reacher you never allow yourself to admit to, but it’s also the only thrill you get anymore. Years of the brass putting warfighting over warfighters meant you were numb to just about any stimulus. Except Reacher.

“Fair,” You nod, trying to keep your mind clear as your whole body screams to push back against Reacher, goad him on so he can finally give you what you’ve craved for over a decade, “But we both know you’re not here for sentimentality and feelings.” You breathe, trying so damned hard not to grind back against him.

He wants something, whatever this is will cost you.

“Correct.” He grumbles before a hand falls from the bar, resting against your hip instead, “Tell me to stop, tell me you don’t want this and I’ll walk away.” He pants against the clammy skin of your neck as you try to wrestle control from the primal part of your brain that would let him rail you right now, against the bar in front of everyone.

“Why now?” You ask, the logical part of your brain interrupting at just the wrong time, you want to take it back, let Jack play his game, maybe let him win for once, then let him fuck you into oblivion but that simple question shatters the illusion.

“Never mind, have a good night, see you ‘round Teach.” Reacher’s tone is clipped as he detaches from you with surgical precision. His body melds back into the crowd instantly as he flees from you retreating back to reality once more.”

What do you think? Do you want to read it? I hope so as I had so much fun with this one.

#jack reacher #reacher #reacher x reader #reacher x f!reader #jack reacher x f!reader #jack reacher smut #reacher smut #x reader #x you #reacher x you #jack reacher x you #smut #Alan Ritchson #Alan ritchson reacher #excerpt #excerpts #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #reacher fan fiction #jack reacher fan fiction #ViWrites #AuthorVi #angst #pining

[ofstoriesandstardust]

tale untold (b.r.b.)

a/n: yeah i don’t have a good explanation for this one. not all of this was my evil genius, i do owe some of it to @struggling-with-delia​

summary: Rebel reflects. 

main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist | same mistakes-verse

warnings: pregnancy scare, fears of an unwanted pregnancy, birth control, missed periods, mentions of an abortion, mentions of sex, at no time is she ever pregnant, swearing, this one isn’t going to be everyone’s cup of tea

word count: 2.1k

You knew better than to be as careless as you had been. 

You’d long since known, ever since you decided you didn’t want kids, that you had to be careful when it came to seeking pleasure through sex. It was something you didn’t really enjoy anyways, meaningless hook-ups not boding well with you, and you’d decided a while ago to get off the pill, it creating problems for your body that were much easier solved by just getting off of it completely. 

Still, when you’d gotten together with Bradley, you knew it was important you were smart about this. You nor Bradley were in any position to be having kids right now.

And you had tried to be smart, but getting re-prescribed the pill had been more of a process than you originally anticipated, the base doctor making you go in circles before he would approve it. 

All it took was Bradley’s inability to keep his hands to himself one night and a heated make out session for you to risk it. 

What were the odds, right?

The odd’s it seemed, were pretty good. 

Not in your favor, one might say. 

I think I might be pregnant. 

The words swim on the screen through unshed tears as Bradley stands next to you. 

“It’s going to be okay, honey. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out, okay?” He says, offering you his hand. You just look at him, worrying your bottom lip underneath your teeth. 

“Rebel?” The sound of your best friend’s voice echoes through the Bradshaw home. 

“In the bathroom.” Rooster calls, his eyes never leaving yours. 

“You’re a dead man, Bradshaw.” 

You both raise your heads to see Hangman, who’s smirking at Bradley like this is the funniest thing he’s heard all week. 

To him, it probably is. 

A girl with mommy issues he’s done nothing but bicker with since the day he met her getting knocked up by a guy she had only recently reconciled with after almost two decades is probably the highlight of his week. 

If he could, he’d probably sit back with a bowl of popcorn and watch the free entertainment. 

“What are you doing here, Bagman?” Rooster asks, a hint of irritation in his tone. 

“He was with me when Rebel texted me.” Coyote says, pushing the blonde out of the door frame. “Have you taken a pregnancy test yet?” 

You shake your head. 

“Then why are you freaking?” Hangman snorts, earning him a pointed glare from your best friend. 

The front door opens again, followed by the shouting of Phoenix’s voice. She appears in the doorway with Bob a few minutes later, a CVS bag in hand. 

“Okay, admittedly I wasn’t sure which ones were considered the most accurate so I bought you three different brands, just to be sure.” She glances up from where she’s rifling through the bag. “Bagman, why are you here?” 

“My presence was specifically requested.”

“No the fuck it was not.” Bradley says through gritted teeth. 

Coyote rolls his eyes. “He was with me when I got her text.” 

You groan, head falling as you reach up to rub your temples. 

“Rebel, chill. If you don’t want it, just get an abortion.” Hangman says nonchalantly, and even though you aren’t looking at him, you can practically see the shrug of his shoulders. 

“Have you... have you guys talked about anything like that?” Bob asks cautiously. 

“Obviously not, Bobby.” Hangman responds. “Otherwise they wouldn’t be in this predicament.” 

“But if you had a kid, oh, I could be an uncle!” Coyote exclaims, prompting another groan as your fingers press harder into your temple. 

“Yeah, but her career would essentially be over. A kid would change everything.” 

Phoenix’s words sit heavy on you, knowing how many female pilots have left on maternity leave and been pushed out. It’s a man’s world you were living in and you had known it since you were young. 

“What about my career?” Rooster exclaims. 

“You’re a man.” She deadpans. 

“Okay!” You nearly shout, voice hoarse and strained. “None of you are helping so please for the love of Christ can you get out so I can pee on the fucking stick?”

Everyone stares at you for a minute before Bob spurs into action, shooing everyone out of the bathroom before leaving with a quiet, “I hope you get the result you want.” 

You take a shaky sigh before running your hands through your hair. You take another minute, the anxiety swimming in your stomach before you stand up, grabbing one of the tests. 

After taking all three of the tests and washing your hands, you set a timer on your phone. You resume your seat on the edge of the bathtub, hands clasped in front of you as you grow more anxious by the minute. 

If you were pregnant, you were not having this kid. 

The thought that there could be an unborn fetus growing inside of you right now makes you nauseous as you try to remember to breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. 

You weren't meant to be a mother, weren’t cut out for it. You had known for years now that you would never have kids of your own. 

As crass as Hangman had been, you probably would get an abortion if that test was positive. 

The thought of giving birth, of the risks and complications, of having to take the time off of work to bring this baby to term, the weight gain and the hormones, the contractions and cravings, even if you gave it up for adoption, sounded like it’d be worse than a fork in the eye. Worse than several forks in the eye. 

And there was the added layer of not knowing what Bradley would do. Would he be angry with you for not wanting to keep it? Would he leave? 

Your Dad would probably be angry with you for being so reckless and careless about this, for making the same mistakes he had made that had brought you into this world. 

It was all too much, too overwhelming. 

You didn’t even have your own mother to turn to and lean on for support. 

The thought of your mother makes your chest feel tight as you suddenly wonder if this is how she had felt when she took the test. If this is how she had felt her whole pregnancy. If this suffocating, drowning feeling at the thought of being a mother had been what she felt through her whole pregnancy, of the first two years of your life, you think, for the first time in your life, you might finally understand why she left. 

The timer rings out, cutting off your train of thought. You take a shaky breath, standing from the bathtub as you steady yourself to look at the tests. 

Negative

Every single one of them were negative. You let out a choked laugh, relief bringing you to you knees as you slowly sink down to the cool tile of the bathroom floor. 

You would probably still have to go to the doctor, just to be certain, but this was a good sign. A good start. 

Tears rolls down your cheeks before you can stop them, the relief too much to bear. 

You sit there for a while more before there’s a soft knock on the door, almost unsure. “Honey?” He calls. “I’m going to come in, if that’s okay.” 

The bathroom door opens slowly, Bradley peeking his head in. He softens at the sight of you on the floor, tear stains on your cheeks as he glances at the test. 

“Upset?” 

You shake your head, wiping some of the tears away. “Relieved.” 

He nods, crouching down to sit next to you before shifting you to pull you into his lap. Your head rests on his shoulder as his arms wrap around your waist. 

“You’re probably just stressed honey. The last few months have been hard on everyone, but especially you. And you haven’t been eating properly and taking care of yourself like you should.” He says with a soft squeeze of your hip. “Those two combined probably explain the missed period and the nausea.” 

You shrug, knowing he’s probably right. 

“Bradley, I don’t want kids.” 

“Okay.” 

You lift your head to look him in the eyes. “No, I mean I don't want kids ever.” 

Yet again, there is that patient and simple “Okay.” 

It’s infuriating. 

Before you can create a snarky comment about just what he's throwing away by being with you, he takes your chin in his hand. “Honey, I’m never going to force you to do something you don’t want to. If that test was positive and you wanted that kid, I’d be all for us keeping it. If you wanted to get an abortion, I’d support that too. As far as kids go, I’m entirely neutral. What’s more important to me is your happiness and how I can support you best so that we stay together.”

“Sure, you say that now, but in a couple years down the road, you’re going to feel differently.” 

“No.” He says firmly. “No, I won’t. I want to be with you. I love you. And I’d love our kid if we had one together but I would love a life without them just as much. We have spent too many years apart for me to sacrifice it all now that I have it.” 

“You’re going to end up resenting me for this.” You mutter, earning a shake of his head. 

“Absolutely not. We can get a dog or something if it’s so important to you. But the not having kids doesn’t change my mind about you. Plus, you forget I’ve known you since you were in diapers. You’ve never really wanted children. I knew what I was getting into.” 

You sigh as he lets your chin go, leaning over to press a soft kiss to your lips. He shifts some of your hair to press a soft kiss to the shell of your ear. 

“You’re just going to have to trust me.” 

-

Bradley’s chest vibrates agains your back as he laughs at the Scooby-Doo cartoon on screen. Buddy’s curled up at your feet, a heavy ring on your finger holding the weight of the promise of forever. 

This, what you have with Bradley, is forever. He’s been making that promise to you since the day the two of you got together. 

Still, the memory is there. 

It carries a heavy weight of its own, the fear that had lingered. 

The two of you hadn’t had any more scares since that one, you’d made sure of it. But the fear of what you were denying Bradley had stayed. It was a fear the two of you had had raw, honest conversations about and you’d had to learnt to trust him when he said that he felt like he wasn’t missing out by being with you, that he was perfectly content not having kids of his own. 

“Do you remember when we had that pregnancy scare?” 

Bradley huffs out a laugh, his chest vibrating again.

“Of course I do, Coyote was practically building a nursery in his mind before you ever even took a test.”

It’s quiet for a moment as you piece the words together. 

“I’ll never forgive my Mom.” You whisper. Bradley shifts against your back, propping himself up. Your eyes are still trained on the young crew, tracking down the masked man behind the ghost. 

“But for one moment, just one, I understood her.” 

You sit up before Bradley has a chance to even process the words, earning a raise of Buddy’s head. You smile down at the dog. “C’mon Buddy, it’s time for bed.” 

You walk up the stairs with the dog, getting ready for to turn in for the night as Bradley follows you. It’s silent, Bradley not saying anything as the two of you get ready for bed. Even after the two of you have turned off the lights and climbed up under the covers, Bradley doesn’t say anything. He just pulls you close, your dog wedged between the two of you at your feet. 

He runs his fingers through your hair as you hear the AC kick in, reminding you of the summer heat existing outside these walls. 

Only after minutes more with just the hum of the air conditioning unit and the steady breathing of your golden retriever, does Bradley speak. 

“I love you sweetheart.” He whispers, shifting slightly to press a kiss to your collarbone. You smile, even though he can’t see it. 

There’s that promise again, the promise to always love you, to never leave. 

“I know.” You respond quietly. “I love you too.” 

And that’s your promise to him, that you’ll accept his love and return it all the same. 

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fics #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fics #top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick fic #same mistakes

[eoieopda]

#jade speaks #re: the one with hoseok and the teapots #re: we’ll never have sex #re: the one where hobi loves you not despite but regardless #jhs #hobi #polls #eoieopda superlatives

[annie115]

One for the money, two for the show, three to get ready Pt. 1

MV1 x Driver!Reader

Authors note: Part one ? I‘m not sure if i make this a series, we’ll see :)

English is not my first language, sorry for mistakes

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (stay safe!), p in v, hard language

MINORS DNI!!!

“Okay y/n we are in lap 50, keep pushing and bring it home! You can get him!” your engineer was telling you over your radio. You knew that you were in lap 50. You knew that you had to keep pushing to get Max. This whole race was a mess. Three yellow flags, two safety cars, one red flag. You were exhausted and were happy when it was finally over in three more laps. Max was 1.8 seconds ahead of you. Charles was 5.7 seconds behind you, so no worries about him. You kept pushing the throttle to the limit, braked in the corners and pushed on the outsides again. The blood was rushing in your ears. All of a sudden, Max lost control over his car and stood in the middle of the track while you were about to crash into him with over 280 km per hour. “FUCK!” you screamed while pushing the brake to the fullest. You spun your steering wheel to not crash into him and managed to stop a few millimetres in front of him. Your cars were standing in front of each other, one facing the left side of the track, one facing the right side. You breathed heavily, trying to get your pulse under control. That could have ended badly. Really bad. Luckily Charles and the others were far behind, that´s why they were able to stop when the red flag got swung. “Y/N, are you okay? Please answer!” your engineer said worried. You didn’t hear him the first times he asked because of all the adrenalin that was rushing through your body. “Sorry. Yes, I am okay”, you answered. “Can I get out and look after Max?” you then asked. “Yes. Permission to get out”, your engineer answered. You pushed yourself out of your seat and left the car, heading over to Max who was also leaving his car. “Are you okay?” you ask while taking off your helmet. You´re technically not allowed to do that while on the track, but you felt like you couldn’t breathe. “I´m okay”, he said and also took off his helmet. “I have no idea what happened. Everything turned off, all of a sudden. I couldn’t brake, I couldn’t steer, nothing”. He kicked the car of anger.

The race was over and wouldn’t be restarted. The FIA decided to not finish the last two laps and kept the results as they were. Max first place, you second place, Charles third. You were a little angry, since you were sure that you could have gotten past Max, but it was a double podium for Ferrari, so it was still a good result. It was the second season you were driving for Ferrari now, side by side with Charles. He was the best teammate you could have imagined and you had a really good relationship. Besides the rumours that you two were dating you really were just colleagues, nothing more. Although, he was hot and maybe there have been one or two times where you almost ended up fucking in the bathroom of the club, drunk. It never happened because one time you had to throw up and the second time he had to throw up, so no good conditions to stick your tongue into each other’s mouths.

Although the race wasn’t finished the FIA wanted to celebrate the winners as usual, with the podium ceremony. You weren’t in the mood for that. You couldn’t stop thinking about what could have happened. If you wouldn’t have stopped like that, if you wouldn’t have managed to control your car like that, you and Max wouldn’t be able to stand here. Maybe even worse. But you had no choice. Putting on your smiley face you stepped on the podium and received your award, Max and Charles next to you. After spraying around with the champagne, you headed to the pit lane. You wanted to find a place where you could be alone for just a minute before the interviews started. Unfortunately, it was too late. A journalist grabbed your arm and asked for an interview. How rude.

After giving a few interviews you had to get ready for the press conference. You were still exhausted. You pushed open the door to a little chamber where some racing suites were stored to get a minute for yourself. It was dark in the room and you leaned against the door and sighed. You switched on the lights and shrieked. “Fuck! What are you doing here?” you asked as you saw Max standing at the other side of the little room. “I needed a moment”, he answered and eyed you. “Yeah, me too”, you confessed. He sighed. “Fuck, y/n if it wasn’t for you..” he started without finishing the sentence. You frowned. “What?” He sighed again. “The way you had the control over your car, the way you stopped and turned it so we wouldn’t crash. I don’t know if anybody could have done that. You saved our asses.” You shook your head. It was uncommon that Max spoke about other drivers abilities. “Anybody would have done that”, you said but he shook his head. “No”, he said and took a step closer to you. “You´re incredible.” You felt the heat rising in your racing suit. “You´re fucking awesome”, he mumbled as he came even closer to you, eyeing your lips. You breathed in sharply, trying to think straight. He looked sexy, as always after the race. His hair was standing in all directions and his face had some imprints from the helmet. He had already taken off his racing suit so that it was hanging down from his waist. His dark blue fire proof showed the structure of his muscular body. The way he was eyeing your body made you swallow hard. Before you could move, his hands were on your hips, pushing you against the door. You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck as he slammed his lips on yours, aggressively playing with your tongue. You moaned as he lifts you up. His lips wandered down your body, searching for a spot that would drive you insane. As he finally found the little spot on your throat, you moaned loudly. „That’s my girl, let everybody in the paddock now how much you want me“, he gasped which only made you moan louder. „Fuck, Max“, you gasped and he smirked against your skin. With a quick movement he managed to open the zippers of your racing suits

His hands were impatiently grabbing your fire proof to get it out of the way. This had nothing to do with romantic or emotions. This was pure, animalistic lust and both of you knew that you had to be quick. The press conference would start in about 10 minutes. He finally managed to get you out of your fire proof when he was already inside of you. His cock filled you up which let you moan uncontrollably. „Fuck, y/n“, Max gasped and pulled your ponytail. “So fucking tight for my cock”, he moaned and moved faster inside of you. The way he spoke to you caused you to be even more wet. “Max” you gasped and he smiled. “That´s right, say my name baby. Let go all over my cock”. His dirty mouth made you crazy, forcing you to reach your climax. As your cunt clenched around his cock he moaned and you felt him pulsing inside you. You threw your head back on your neck when he spread his warm cum inside of you. Out of breath he pulled himself out of you, quickly putting his clothes on. “I needed that”, he said and smirked at you while you were trying to put your fire proof back on. “Me too”, you answered and he gave you a quick kiss on your cheek before leaving the room.

Don’t be a ghost reader, tell me what you think! :)

#formula 1 #fanfiction #smut #max verstappen #racing #motorsports

[abbatoirablaze]

Welcome To The Dollhouse, Home

Word Count: 2k

Warnings:  slight angst, smut, unprotected sex.

“Jennifer…sunshine…”

She was quick to snap out of her daze, her thoughts on how just a few months ago she’d been in a screaming match with the man on her right over their relationship. 

“I-I’m sorry…what?”

“I’m sorry…what?” she asked softly, still not believing the words that left Lloyd’s mouth. 

The assassin frowned, “I know you heard what I said, Jennifer…”

“Y-you still want me?”

Her heart ached over the thought that he’d had any feelings for her at all.  Over the past few months Terry had beat it into her head that she was unwanted by every other man.  That he was the only one willing to take the shot on her and pay for her.  She’d been so convinced by it, that she was planning on leaving the dollhouse. 

She had no idea what to do, but she thought that at least with her engineering degree she could find something…anything. 

Lloyd’s calloused fingers stroked her cheek, swiping away the tears that were rolling down it. 

She hadn’t realized that she had been crying. 

Her lips parted but nothing came out but a small croak.

“I don’t want anyone else, angel,” he sighed, pulling her to his chest.  For once, she didn’t fight him.  She didn’t want to argue with the man that she still loved despite how he had treated her.  Despite how he had abandoned her with Terry, the creepy magician, over the man he’d been keeping under his wing.  Instead, she clung to his expensive polo, as though if she were to let go, he would disappear from her life completely.  She sobbed against his chest, inhaling the scent that was curated just for him, “you’re my angel, Jennifer…and I’m taking you home once and for all.  No more games, baby.  No more bullshit…your sister’s gone, and I know that you were holding out that she-”

“No more games!” she whimpered softly as she cut him off, keeping herself tucked tightly against him.

She was at a loss.

She hadn’t expected the typical ‘white picket fence home,’ from Lloyd, but she also hadn’t expected a castle somewhere in Europe either. 

But yet, somehow it all screamed his name.  The unnecessary extravagance and elegance of the aged home.  The expensive re-done floors and accessories to make it that much more elevated.  It was the man that she’d loved.  To a tee.

Her throat felt dry as she looked back to him, “L-Lloyd…”

“What is it princess?” he asked quickly, “is it not big enough?  Do you want a bigger estate?  I’ll buy one right now.  Just say the word if this isn’t enough!”

He was at her side in an instant, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist as he waited on her words.  Her eyes traveled across the entrance, and towards the stairs.  The marble floors glittered beneath her, reflecting the crystal chandelier above them.  She gazed around in wonder, before turning towards him, shaking her head. 

How could he think that the castle wasn’t enough?

“Th-this is all too much.  This can’t be where you live.  You-“

“This is where we’ll live,” he told her firmly, “I bought this for you…for us so that we could have a future.  I don’t give a damn about where I live.  I’ve never called anywhere home…because it wasn’t…not without you…”

She felt her heart fluttering happily in her chest as she held back her smile, “W-what about Suzanne?  Wh-what about all the whores Ransom said you were fucking all over the globe?  Wh-

“She doesn’t matter, Angel. None of them ever did!   It is just me and you,” he promised, lifting her hands up to her face so that he could kiss her knuckles, “the only things that matter are us, Jennifer…”

“This wasn’t-“

“This was never hers,” he growled, cutting her off as he immediately knew where the conversation was heading, “I only just bought the place after everything was said and done.  This is our hideaway from the world…only for you and me…”

“And the numerous guards,” she muttered eyeing up the detail through the still-open front door, and the men silently moving through the entrance on their own rounds, “there are so many of them, Lloyd…”

“They’re here because I’m a dangerous man, sweetheart.  I need an army to protect what is mine…what we can make…what we will make,” he reminded her, the promise not as subtle as he reminded her that he wanted everything with her.  She looked at a few of them as they passed and he pulled her towards himself once more, pressing a firm kiss to her forehead, “you are safe here with them…they will protect you when I have to go on a job…they’ll be here to make sure that you’re safe…and down the road…that our legacy is safe…however many we have…”

Her eyes widened, “y-you’re leaving?”

“No…not yet,” he promised as his hands fell back down around her waist, “I wasn’t going to leave for a bit…I mean…unless you want me to…”

She watched the uncertainty in his eyes.  And she could see the anxiety that he tried to keep hidden.  He was just as nervous about her being there as she was. 

“Stay…”she all but whispered to the man,  “I don’t want you to leave!”  

Lloyd looked relived and the smallest of smiles tugged at his lips as he nodded, “Okay…ca-can I show you the rest of the house…of our house?”

“Since when did you stutter?” she teased lightly. 

His tight-lipped smile broke and the corners of his mouth turned upwards.  One of his hands reached up and stroked the column of her throat before stopping underneath her jaw, “you making fun of me, Angel…”

“Oh yeah…” she admitted, biting back her own smile as she teased the man who was only soft with her.

“Oh, you’re going to regret that!” he purred seductively as he led her towards the stairs, “I think we should start our tour in the special room that I had made…it’s attached to our bedroom…”

“Special room?”

Lloyd smirked as he gave her a look over his shoulder, “oh yes, Angel…it’s a special room…only for the two of us to use.

“L-Lloyd…”

“That’s right, sunshine,” Lloyd purred as his lips dragged up her inner thigh, her mustache tickling the sensitive skin.  His eyes snapped to her hooded ones, and he smirked as her lips parted in another breathy moan.  Her fingers dug into the silky ties at her wrists, and she arched her body towards him once more, “give daddy what he craves…let me have that sweet nectar, Angel…let me taste it all!”

“P-please, Lloyd…”she moaned, eyes flickering open to see his hungrily watching her as he nipped even closer to her core.  His fingers made a ‘come hither,’ motion and her eyes rolled back into her skull again as she fought off what felt like was a never-ending orgasm, “I-I need it.  Need to-please, Lloyd…”

“Tell daddy what you need, Angel…”

“Need to cum!” she mewled as he scissored his fingers into her, all the way down to the knuckle.  He watched as her hands pulled on the ties, “Lloyd…”

“Tell me how you wanna cum, Jennifer!”

“On your cock!”

He grinned once more and kissed her inner thigh.   Her breathing was heavy and labored as he removed his fingers, and she shuddered.  Standing up from his position at the edge of the sex swing he fisted his cock. 

He’d been naked for quite a while, his cock leaking precum while he spent the first few hours in their new home getting her off; torturing himself. 

He’d told himself that he wasn’t going to fuck her until she begged for it.  Until she begged for his cock. 

He knew that despite Angel agreeing to allowing him to buy her out, their relationship was at square one.  It was as though it was a newborn deer trying to stumble out into the vast world once again. 

And he knew that despite her being trained for just him in the beginning, he would have to make her crave his cock once more. 

Just like when he first got her to agree to his sponsorship.

The normally gruff man’s heart fluttered as he looked at the young woman.  She was all smiles as she served drinks.  A few of the guys at the tables would smack her ass or make comments, but because they were slipping her twenties, she would let it happen. 

And it angered the hell out of Lloyd. 

For weeks he’d been coming to the Dollhouse. 

He’d been watching the sweet little angel get money from the low life men that ordered drinks.

And he’d watched her dance. 

Every once in a while, she’d agree to go upstairs with someone.   And that usually meant that she was done for the night. 

And every time that happened, Lloyd had to fight himself on following after her and putting a bullet into the head of the man that was lucky enough to get her to agree to a night with them. 

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice her watching him while she fed the bartender the new round of drink orders and waited for them. 

That was until he heard her giggles from a few feet away. 

He snapped to attention, his dazed expression falling away while his stoic one came back, “What you looking at, Angel?”

“You,” she said pointedly, leaning against the bar.  Lloyd’s eyes flickered down to her chest, where her breasts were nearly spilling out of the top.  He felt his upper lip twitch as she reached over and touched his cheek, “you know…I’ve seen you in here quite a bit.  Most of the guys usually only stop in when they’re local or after a job…and I know you’re not local, daddy.”

Lloyd growled. 

His cock twitched with the simple last word that passed her lips. 

“Playing with fire, princess…”

She took a few steps towards him, sliding her tray along the bar, until she was next to him.  Before Lloyd could think of something else witty to say, she’d slid onto his lap, and wrapped one of her arms around his neck, “I’ve always been partial to some warmth…especially some that’s as good looking as you.”

“Listen here, sunshine-“

“Call me Angel,” she said softly as she leaned forward.  Her lips grazed the killers and he growled again, his cock pressing against her thigh aggressively, “you got something in your pants for me, daddy?”

“I do…and since I know you’ve noticed me hanging around, I’ll let you know that I’ve had what’s felt like a never ending hard on for weeks,” he growled, “and I think he wants to play with you…you got a room, Angel?”

She nodded, pulling his face towards hers.  The tray lay forgotten by her on the bar, and another girl picked it up, already filling in for her, while Lloyd slid off the bar stool and carried Angel towards the stairs. 

His cock pressed deeply into her core, the crown of him bumping against her cervix.  Lloyd groaned, his balls twitching as they emptied inside of her.  He held firm on her hips but leaned over her frame until their lips met. 

The kiss was hungry, filled with all of the emotions the normally stoic man was too afraid to say. 

He felt her walls clench around him, milking the spend from his cock, and she broke the kiss, gasping breathlessly as her legs shook.

“Lloyd,” she whimpered, “oh god.  Fuck, Lloyd-“

“Cum for me princess,” he growled, slapping her mound and puffy clit.  Her legs continued to shake and he did it again and again until she squirted all over his abs, “That’s it, baby.  You cum for daddy, Angel.  Cum all over my abs.  Cum all over my cock.”

“LLOYD!”

“That’s it, Angel, cum for daddy!” he growled, fnally letting go of her hip with one hand, only to tangle it in her hair and pull her into another searing kiss.  He felt his cock twitching yet again, already on the verge of another orgasm while her walls massaged him, “Fuck…I’m gonna cum again, Angel…”

“Want your cum!” she mewled, “want all your cum daddy!”

“You want this?” he growled, hips finding a quick, but unsteady rhythm. 

“Yeah!” she whimpered, moaning as he hit her g-spot, “fill me daddy.  Fill me!”

“I’ll fill you alright,” he groaned, “Daddy’s cumming home Angel…oh, FUCK!”

#welcome to the dollhouse #lloyd hansen #the gray man #chris evans characters

[bookish-bogwitch]

Thanks @thewholelemon, @facewithoutheart, @ileadacharmedlife, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @aristocratic-otter, @nightimedreamersworld, @ionlydrinkhotwater for the tags the past couple weeks. Here are six a lot of sentences I cut from Basil Pitch's Diary, which for now is just one baby chapter but the rest of which is coming soon eventually to a browser near you.

This bit's inspired by the fact that there was a Parliament election in 2015. I cut it because it felt kind of clumsy--sticking jokes in the character's mouths that weren't necessarily in-character--and also had the small issue of being completely, utterly irrelevant to the plot. (At least that makes it spoiler-free 😅.)

Excerpt and tags below the cut:

FRIDAY 6 MARCH Blood units 4, body temp 25, hair ducal, civic engagement meh, political parties at least 3. 11 a.m. Politickal Science. Professor Kates had us debate tomorrow’s Normal Parliament election, presumably because he didn’t plan a real lesson. Had never paid much attention to Normal politics before reaching voting age. Unlike Bunce. “…And that’s why I’m voting Lib Dem,” she concluded after talking for eight solid minutes. “You’re sixteen,” objected Wellbelove.  “Not a problem,” said Bunce, flapping her ring hand.  From the back of the classroom, the pixie chimed in. “What about the Green Pa—” Bunce made a rude noise.  “What about you, Simon?” asked the professor. “How would you vote?”  Of course the Mage’s Heir gets a platform for his inane views. What a blow when he finds out there’s no Butter Union party. “Um,” orated Snow. “I … I dunno. Labour, probably.” Snow turned to Bunce. “Like, some of them are nutters, yeah, but they’d fund stuff. Like,” he reddened, “schools and, like, social programs.” “Those are already funded,” said Bunce. “Not enough.”  “You expect the government to solve all your problems,” I quoted my father automatically.  Snow gave me one of my own You’re an idiot looks. “I really don’t.”  Shit. How many times had he been asked to solve the World of Mages’s problems single-handed? Bunce was still fired up. “Simon, you can’t just dismiss Labor’s xenophobic—”  I thought about what Snow meant and missed the rest of Bunce’s rant about something something intersectionality. As if she would willingly intersect with a Normal. 4 p.m. Am torn. Pitches always vote Tory, just like we’ll always vote against the Mage once we get back the franchise. (Fiona has a plan to steal it.) A liberal government would drain our coffers even drier.  But in our borough voting Tory means re-electing a man who opposed same-sex marriage two years ago. The craven claimed he wasn’t homophobic, he just had homophobic constituents. Do not see why the straight unwashed should control my freedom to marry.  Even worse is the Tory ghoul from Aldershot who stumped about “the aggressive homosexual community” using marriage as “a stepping stone.” As if I wouldn’t pay double VAT to be stepped on by an aggressive homosexual. Still. Am not simpleton single-issue voter; marriage equality is a fait accompli. And anyway, I’d only ever want to gay-marry Snow, straight and unwashed though he is.  Felt weirdly proud of him today for disagreeing with Bunce, especially when I realized the professor had singled him out not as Mage’s Heir but as spokesnormal. And that “social programs” meant his entire childhood.  Hmm. SATURDAY 7 MARCH 10 p.m. Resolved politico-moral quandary by forgetting to vote.

Look, it wasn't my idea for Baz to be a Tory. That was all Rainbow. I also do think Penny has a centrist streak inherited from Mitali but I have no idea real how this would translate into the Normal world.

Thanks @facewithoutheart for gently pointing out that this was a complete tangent. And sorry and thank you @captain-aralias for the content beta. It's not your fault I asked you to explain UK politics and then didn't listen.

Tagging @cutestkilla, @fatalfangirl, @moodandmist, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @artsyunderstudy, @im-gettingby, and @petedavidsonscock.

#basil pitch's diary #baz pitch #simon snow #my writing #dead darlings