#they can all smell Price's claim

[ghouljams]

The Witch makes a bet, Fae!Price shows he can’t be trusted.

It's a beautiful day. Although it usually is. Your ancestors bargained for the patch of Summer your garden occupies ages ago. The front of your house may be battered with the rain of the city, but out back its warm and sunny. You drag a wicker table and stool out to sit in the garden, enjoy the sun. A pitcher of sunshine tea and rose jam cookies act as your company.

You close your eyes, face tilt towards the sun, letting it warm your bones. Your magic purrs like a pleased cat at the ambient energy. You should air out the house.

Price watches you from the fence, it seems he's shown up late. Just in time to enjoy your comfort though. Your pleased little smile, the way your lashes rest against your cheeks, the warmth of the sun radiating off of you. You look like something out of a dream, your shawl pooling at your waist, haphazardly draped over your elbows. He wonders if it's raining on the other side. You prefer that shawl when it rains.

He whistles to draw your attention. Your eyes open slowly, lazy with sunshine as you smile at him. He leans against the gate, coaxes the ivy to cushion him from the iron, and returns your smile.

"Aren't you a pretty picture," His eyes drag over your form now that he's sure you're watching.

"It's a nice day," You tell him, his eyes crease, smile more sincere.

"Wouldn't know, it's cold over here." You hum, nodding a little. You stand from your seat and brush your skirt back into place before going in to the house. It's a funny quirk you have, disappearing in the middle of conversations. Price wonders if it's just him or if you do this to your clients as well. You return with another stool and set it on the other side of the table. A second tall glass is placed next to the pitcher.

Price takes a step back from the gate as you walk towards it. You stop and seem to take another moment to think through what you're doing. He wonders what goes through your mind sometimes. You're so smart, so stuffed full of knowledge. He'd love to help you empty it out, stuff you full of something more deserving.

"Would you join me for a snack?" You ask, voice just at the edge of unsure, "Just until the cookies are gone?" It's conditional, time sensitive, it's hardly a debt, but it's an ask, and you feel the weight of a tether hook between you two. It doesn't hurt as much as you'd thought it would.

Price's hand unlatches the gate and swings it open, and you think you've made a terrible mistake as he crosses your threshold with all the hungry grace of a wolf.

You settle your jumping heart beat, when he doesn’t immediately reach to devour you. He’s almost peaceful as he latches the gate behind him, shaking out the sting of iron from his fingers. You know better than to trust the fae, you know better than to trust him.

“You mind if I smoke?” He asks, settling on the stool you’d brought out for him. You shake your head.

“No, be my guest.” He smiles at you, and you hurry to take your seat again as he tugs a cigar from his pocket. You pour his glass full of tea, topping up your own while you’re at it. Your stomach churns nervously, the sun suddenly too hot on your prickling skin. What would your mother say if she knew you’d invited a strange man into the garden? Past all your wards, past the threshold that’s taken generations to build... She’d be pissed.

Price shakes a match to snuff it, and lowers his cigar with a river of smoke. You do your best not to stare, not to appear too watchful of him if only so he doesn’t think you rude.

“I’m not going to eat you,” He must have caught you staring.

“It would be very rude if you did,” You tap your finger against the table as an outlet for your nerves. Price hums, non-committal.

“You’re warded to hell and back,” He says plucking a cookie from the top of the floral patterned plate, he looks it over, inspecting the sweet before popping it in his mouth, “wouldn’t be able to do it even if you were under my teeth.”

You think his estimation of your abilities is rather flattering. Not that you doubt your own magic, but you’re fairly certain nothing would protect you if you were that close. It’s a nice thought, but you’re desperate to tell him he’s wrong.

“As if you wouldn’t try it even with the wards.”

Price smiles, hardly turning his head to look at you. You’ve never seen smoke like the kind that wisps off his cigar, heavy. It falls from his lips when he smokes it, threading between his teeth like water. You wonder if it’s the smoke, or just the atmospheric weight of him. Price’s presence pressing down everything that isn’t eager to oppose it.

“I like to think I have more self control than that,” He tells you evenly, “How about a bet? Your wards against my will power.”

“Not a very good bet.” You grumble.

“I have confidence in both,” He taps the ash off his cigar, crushing the loose embers under his boot, “you have my word I won’t hurt you, won’t even put a penalty on the wager.” You hum. Not entirely tempted to engage with the offer. Especially when it sounds like Price has no clear “win” scenario.

Either your wards break his bite, or he doesn’t do anything to engage the wards. Even a loss for both of you doesn’t net him any gain. He loses a friendly witch, and suffers the consequences of a major brief in guest behavior.

“Whats the wager?” You ask, suspicion in your voice. You’d try harder to cover it, but you want him to hear. You don’t trust him.

“One minute in my lap,” He holds up a finger to emphasize the number, “No penalty, no prize, let me show you how strong you are.”

You don’t like the heat in his eyes, don’t like the longing in your skin to be touched by him again. You bite the inside of your cheek, worrying it as you think. Sounds easy enough, sounds short enough that you could get away if you really needed. They’re not empty compliments either, the fae can’t lie. So why does Price’s confidence make you nervous? You nod your head once, a short jerk, and push up from your stool. You stand in front of Price, and he pats his thigh.

You settle on his lap and his arm loops around you, holding you tight against his chest. You try not to shudder, feeling him turn his head to keep the smoke he exhales off of you. He brushes hair away from your neck, and you tip your head to keep away from the burning end of his cigar, baring your neck for him. “Atta girl,” He tells you low in your ear. You don’t know what you expect when his nose presses against your rapid pulse. His beard tickles your neck, makes you shiver and shake with anticipation as he seems to rest there and just... breathe.

You do your best to keep your mind on your own breaths, the short and rapid rise and fall of your chest so stark when you can feel the broad, calm, expansion of Price’s against your back. His lips just brush your skin, his exhale touches you more than them, but all you can think about is his mouth. The teeth waiting to gobble you up just behind those maddening lips. You shift in his lap, trying to find some give in his iron grip, a way to wiggle your throat away from his teeth. You still, eyes going wide at the hard press of his cock under you. Heat rushes through you, your face feels hot, can he feel the heat that bursts over your skin from where he’s pressed against your neck?

“Price,” You breathe, try to breathe. He hums, drags his nose further up your neck to bump against your jaw.

“Just a little more, witch.” He tells you, his grip on you tightening to keep you from wiggling out of place.

He releases you and you tumble off his lap, fingers digging into the dirt to ground yourself. Everything is too bright, the blood rushing in your ears too loud. Price stands from his seat, his shadow looming over you as you tremble on the edge of something.

“I’m rescinding my welcome,” You tell him, feeling the tether break. Price hums behind you, snuffs his cigar on the plate holding the cookies.

“You’ve been a gracious host,” He responds evenly, his voice dragging over your skin like silk before he’s gone and you’re left alone in your garden.

#Fae!Price #captain john price #captain price #john price #john price x reader #John price x you #x reader #oh to be a naive witch in Price's lap #he's trying to fuck you girl!! #stop taking his bait you're supposed to be the smart one! #Price you absolute bastard when will it be my turn #this whole thing is just me wanting to sit on his lap and have him scent me #the witch scrubs her skin in the shower after this but she can still feel him on her #and every fae she passes on the street gives her a wide berth #they can all smell Price's claim

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining an a/b/o dynamic where the entire 141, including you, are all Alphas. Except, after a few years of such close contact something starts to shift.

You start to become an Omega.

"Why is this happening to me?" You all but wail. It hurts to breathe, everything feels like it's on fire. Your stomach twists again, painful cramps shooting white hot lighting up your spine. "Why does it hurt so bad?"

Your pack is all around you, trying to soothe you in anyway they can but it's not working. Everything hurts, your teeth feel like they're going to crack from how tight you have them gritted. The wave of pain ebbs for a few gracious seconds before starting up all over again. You whine and sob and reach out for any of your team.

"Whats going on?" Price huffs, his cool hand cupping at your face. His touch is the barest relief even as he drags down one of your lower eyelids. He tuts in an intense concern. "Simon, have you seen this before?"

The larger male drops to one knee. He gives you a quick once over before dipping his head towards yours. He presses the front of his mask to the crown of your head. Through your labored panting you barely hear him take in a deep inhale of scent.

He coughs and stands back up too quickly. Judging by his flighty gaze, something is seriously wrong. Another tremor of pain wracks your body. You open mouth squeal. It's getting so much worse.

"Simon!" Soap growls, trying to bring his fellow alpha back from whatever memory he'd fallen into. "What's wrong wit' 'er?"

"She's turning into an Omega."

Everyone in the room turned their gazes towards Ghost, even you, despite your pain. You? An Omega? But you've always been and Alpha. It was part of the necessary requirements to be a part of the 141. You'd been genetically tested, hormonally tested, and aptitude tested. You were a full blooded Alpha coming from generations of Alphas.

"There's...ngh...no way." You hiccup out, tears blurring your vision.

"That doesn't make any sense. That can't happen." Gaz adds. He rubs at your back. His cool touch soothes even more of your pain into a dull throb, but it isn't enough.

"M' n' Alpha!" You cry out in anguish, the first of many tears finally dripping down your cheeks.

Something about Ghost's words hurt worse than any pain your body was making you go through. Try as you may to deny it, he was right. You could feel your body changing, altering, breaking and bending.

"Why is this happening to me?" You wail.

"There's too many of us." Ghost huffs, he glances around at your pack.

"Why does that matter?" Soap grumbles, scooping an arm around your center to pull you up into a sitting position. "We're a pack."

"That's just it." Ghost sighs tiredly.

"I've never heard of this being 'n issue." Price butts in. He grabs your face again and brushes the tears off your cheeks. "Task Forces are fully Alpha run. They 'ave been for years."

"If what Ghost is saying is right, it's biological, Captain." Gaz huffs, his thoughts visibly racing. "Too many Alphas, not enough Omegas. It means we'd go extinct."

"But why didn't she change earlier?" Johnny asks. You teeter in his hold but he keeps you upright. He lets you lean against his chest. He smells more comforting than usual.

"It's hormonal. She's been with us almost three years now, it takes time." Ghost says. Price nods in agreement.

"I'm an Alpha!" You sob, trying wrench yourself free from the multiple men around you. "I- I don't want to be bred. I don't want to be claimed! I'm an Alpha!"

"We're know you are, Love." Price breathes softly. He continued to wipe tears away from your face with a tenderness that only makes your despair swell further. "But this is happening, and we can't stop it."

"Take me to sick bay, please. They'll...they'll put me on blockers or something! Please, anything but this! I don't want to be an Omega."

The pack looks toward Ghost but he shakes his head.

"This is you first heat. The blockers will kill you."

You scream in pain, fear, and frustration. Another wave of excruciating pain washes over you. You wrench out of Soap's grip and fall against the floor. The tile is cool against your flushed skin.

As much as you hate him for it, Ghost is right.

This is your first heat.

Your back arches off the floor. Your toes curl and you squeal, shaking, gasping, panting hot breaths. You can feel yourself start to sweat. There's a sudden gush of wetness between your thighs. Embarrassment floods you. You try to curl into a ball but your body keeps being wracked with tremors.

"H-help me..." You cry out weakly, sobbing into the tile.

Your pack seems to finally get a whiff of your fluctuating scent. All around you, you watch as one by one each of their gazes grow more and more pointed. All of you know what must be done. After all, you're an Omega now.

...and there's no going back.

#cod imagines #mw2 #call of duty #mw2 headcanons #simon ghost riley #cod mwii #john soap mactavish #simon riley x reader #captain price #kyle gaz garrick

[pinknatural]

After googling “what to take to a stranger’s birthday party” and reading the top five articles thoroughly, the first two more than once, Castiel has determined that he should either bring candles, wine, or baked goods. 

A candle seems like a good, safe option, but the Walmart candle aisle is overwhelming. How is he supposed to know if Anna’s-friend-Dean likes oaky, woodsy smells versus lavender-linen smells? Castiel likes the one that smells like a waxy apple pie, but who’s to say that opinion is shared? What if he prefers pine, or something called Deep Twilight Mist? Castiel removes the lid for Deep Twilight Mist and smells the cream-colored wax curiously. It smells like the perfume Hael used to spray everywhere when she was eleven. He puts it back on the shelf. 

There’s a candle that smells like cupcakes. It is a birthday party, so perhaps he would like that. Castiel puts it in the blue plastic basket dangling from his arm, then puts it back on the shelf, tilting it so the label is facing perfectly outward. Maybe Anna’s-friend-Dean doesn’t like candles at all. 

Wine. Everyone likes wine. Well, unless Anna’s-friend-Dean is one of those guys who thinks wine is too feminine. Or if he doesn’t drink at all. Or if he drinks too much. Or, perhaps even worse, if he’s some kind of wine connoisseur and will mock Castiel for buying reasonably-priced wine from Walmart and then blacklist Castiel so thoroughly that he will never find a friend in this town. 

Wine and candles are too complex. But everyone likes baked goods. 

Castiel is stopped in the middle of the road, turn signal blinking to indicate that he would like to turn left into his apartment complex, when he realizes that Anna’s-friend-Dean could be diabetic. But the party is at a restaurant that specializes in hamburgers, so probably not. Hopefully not. All Castiel has to do is successfully implement chocolate chip cookies and then melt into the walls at the party. Be pleasant enough company that next time someone has a large event they allow Anna to invite him again. Go to enough social functions that he can claim to have friends and get Anna off his back. Live quietly, working at the Gas-N-Sip and writing papers about the science of Theology and perhaps even going to the library and reading secular fiction.

Castiel has no expectations of finding actual friendship at Anna’s-friend-Dean’s birthday party. Or ever, really. If he ever gets lonely, he can get a cat.

Anna thinks that Castiel and Dean will get along very well. Castiel thinks that living outside of their mother’s influence has made Anna believe in fairytales. Anna has known Castiel his entire life. She knows full well that he has never gotten along very well with anyone. 

Castiel cracks an egg over the batter. Maybe this whole baking thing will impress Anna so much that she’ll stop bothering him about making friends. 

Who knows, maybe these cookies will unlock something else to add to Castiel’s quiet life. He quite likes the idea of baking.

--

The firefighter is very beautiful. Maybe even the most beautiful person Castiel has ever seen, besides models on the sides of buildings who look so perfect they’re fake.

“You the guy who started the fire?” the beautiful firefighter asks. He puts his hands in his pockets. Castiel’s cheeks burn. Not from any fire. 

“They were just burnt cookies,” he says. “I didn’t know they would set off the smoke alarm.” In the entire building. The other firefighters are by the doors, writing things down, talking to other residents of Castiel’s building. How come the beautiful firefighter was the one who had to talk to Castiel? He sneaks a peek at the man’s arms, but they’re sadly covered by his coat. 

“You burned the cookies on purpose, then?” the firefighter raises an eyebrow. 

“Of course I didn’t,” Castiel says. The firefighter has green eyes and freckles splashed across his nose. Castiel wants him to take off his helmet so he can see what his hair looks like. 

“Right,” the firefighter says. 

“Am I in trouble?” Castiel asks. 

“No,” the firefighter says. He winks. Castiel feels his heart literally skip a beat. “Not a crime to burn cookies. Losing out on the cookies is punishment enough.”

“They weren’t for me,” Castiel says. “They were for a birthday party. Tonight.” For some reason, he wants the firefighter to know that he has a social life. Never mind if the social life was enforced upon him by his older sister.

“A birthday party? Today? Who’s hosting? I gotta fight for my honor.”

Castiel is baffled. What honor? What fight?

“What?”

“Everyone will come,” the firefighter says. He makes a pose, as if he’s flexing. “To see me and this other guy fight to see who’s the Supreme Birthday Boy.” He stretches one arm out, pointing it to the sky, then he opens his fist. “Pow! It’ll be me, of course.” He turns to look back at Castiel. His mouth is very pink. Castiel wishes he understood what words were coming out of it. 

“It’s my birthday, too,” the firefighter says after a moment, when Castiel doesn’t react.

“Oh,” Castiel says. “Why didn’t you just say that?”

“I dunno. Trying to be funny, I guess.”

“Oh,” Castiel says again. Behind the firefighter, he sees that the other residents of his apartment building are filing back inside. For some reason, despite the January chill, Castiel doesn’t want to go back in. Not yet. 

“You know, usually this is the part where people say happy birthday,” the firefighter says. 

“Happy birthday,” Castiel repeats. 

“Thanks!” the firefighter beams. “So do you think I should crash your friend’s party tonight?”

“No,” Castiel says, alarmed at the thought. A firefighter, and probably a bunch of other firefighters, crashing Castiel’s opportunity to stand beside the wall, holding a cup of sprite? When Castiel shows up with store-bought baked goods? And this beautiful firefighter will point right at him and say that Castiel invited them and then Anna’s-friend-Dean will hate him forever, and probably Anna will too? “Also, he’s not my friend.”

“He’s not? Then why are you going to his party?”

“He’s my sister’s friend,” Castiel explains. “I’ve never met him. She thinks I need to leave the house more.” Too late, Castiel remembers that he was supposed to pretend he had a flourishing social life. Oops. 

“Wait,” the firefighter says. His eyes sparkle. “Are you Anna’s brother? Cas-something?”

“Castiel,” he says, with the patience of someone who has had to explain his name a million times. He narrows his eyes. “How did you know that?”

“Dude,” the firefighter says, laughing. “I’m Dean.”

Anna’s-friend-Dean is a beautiful firefighter, with green eyes and freckles? Anna’s-friend-Dean is the Supreme Birthday Boy? Anna’s-friend-Dean probably has very muscular arms, under his uniform?

“Oh,” Castiel says. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” the firefighter says. 

“Winchester! Wrap it up!” one of the firemen calls from the truck. Castiel realizes that all the firefighters are about to leave, and everyone from his building is already back inside. When did that happen?

“Be there in a minute!” Dean hollers over his shoulder. When he looks back at Castiel, he grins almost shyly. “You were gonna make me cookies?”

“Yes, I--I thought it would be an appropriate thing to bring.” Castiel wonders again if Dean could be diabetic. Or perhaps allergic to something in chocolate chip cookies. Are chocolate chips made in a peanut-free facility? Maybe Castiel should’ve bought wine, after all.

“Hell yeah,” Dean says. “Whoever said that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach was dead-fuckin’-on. But, uh.”

“But?” Castiel is sure, suddenly, that Dean is about to reject him and tell him not to come to his birthday party after all. Which would be a shame, because all of a sudden Castiel wanted to go.

“My favorite dessert is pie,” Dean says like a confession. 

“Oh,” Castiel says, eyes widening. Maybe he can swing by the bakery--maybe he can look up a bakery, and then swing by it--on the way to the party. Assuming he’s still going. 

“And, uh, not to toot my own horn, but I make a pretty mean one. I actually made myself a birthday pie, and I was gonna eat it alone, but maybe…I mean…”

“Yes?” Castiel asks. Dean is slightly taller than him, so he tilts his head back to meet his eyes. Dean swallows. Castiel watches his adam’s apple bob.

“Well, I could swing by after my shift is done,” Dean says. “Bring it with me. We could share. Before we go to the Roadhouse, I mean. If you want.”

“I want,” Castiel says before he can think about it. He snaps his mouth shut. Dean brightens. 

“Great,” he says. “I’ll be back. After my shift.”

“When does it end?” Castiel asks. Dean looks at his watch. He grins at Castiel, tongue poking between his teeth.

“Twenty minutes,” he says. 

“Okay,” Castiel says. “I will you soon, then.”

“Yep,” Dean says. “Gimme about an hour, okay? And then we’ll have pie.” 

“Okay,” Castiel says. Dean turns to head back to the firetruck. “What kind of pie?” Cas calls after him. Dean turns. 

“Apple!” he calls. Castiel stands outside, in the January chill without his coat, for a long while after the truck leaves. What a strange man, making his own birthday pie. What a lovely man, sharing it with a stranger. Supreme Birthday Boy, indeed.

--

When Dean returns, in a soft flannel shirt with sleeves rolled up, revealing his magnificent forearms, his hair a spiky mess that Castiel wants to run his fingers through, he has, as promised, an apple pie. And Castiel has a present for him. 

When Dean opens it, he laughs until he almost cries. He lights it right away, and the lingering aroma of burnt chocolate chip cookies is chased away by the apple pie candle from Walmart, a bright, steady little flame flickering between them.

(ao3)

#destiel #dean winchester #castiel #writingtag #deansbirthdaybash #chocolatecakecas #changed my mind posting this now. whatever

[sollsmith]

I'm All Yours

Daemon Targaryen x female!reader

Words: 2.1K 

Warnings: SMUT, sex work, fingering, oral (fem receiving), degradation, slight breeding kink, breast slapping, slightly rough sex

Summary: Daemon finds out you have been entertaining other men at the brothel in his absence.

The gold and silver coins made a delightful clink as they hit the bottom of the glass jar. Enough to house and feed yourself for the week, and possibly treat yourself to one new silk. Dreaming about that aqua iridescent silk that hung in the back of the drapery, you began to clear your room for the night, not noticing the dark figure looming in the doorway.  

“Thought you could replace me?” Daemon’s voice is low, a scolding expression on his face as you nearly jump out of your skin, almost knocking over the vase of flowers resting on the table you were clearing. 

“My Prince!” You try to suppress the smile that inches its way onto your face, but it is not possible. Daemon had quickly laid claim to you all those years ago in Mothers, to the point you were assumed to be reserved for the Prince if he chose to offer his patronage to the brothel at any point. Other men would not approach or ask for your price. You belonged to Daemon Targaryen. Everyone knew it. 

Daemon hums in response as he stalks down the few steps into the room and heads in your direction. It had been three years since you had last seen him. A cold night on Dragonstone, when he had put twenty gold dragons in your hand, told you to pack your things and to return to the capital. He would not take you with him to war. 

All the thoughts of your last interactions are whipped from your head as Daemon presses up against the wall, evident arousal poking your inner thigh. He smells of wine, and another woman. The quick words that were on the tip of your tongue, die as his hand finds your throat, applying just enough pressure to intervene with your breathing.  

“You didn’t answer my question.” He says, pressing a little harder on your neck, looking you directly in the eye, as his hand moves under your skirt and edges it way to your heart. “Have you been replacing me? Hm?” 

You nod as well as you can with a hand around your throat. It was true, while the twenty dragons had afforded you to live comfortably for two years without the need to sell your body, but the last year proved difficult and you had made your way back onto the street of silk, and it had been a profitable one. With the Rogue Prince gone at war, men happily paid handfuls of silver and gold for your company. 

“Need to give you a reminder on who this cunt belongs to?” Daemon’s large hand finds your cunt, letting two fingers enter your willing hole, while pushing the ball of his palm into your throbbing clit. A small growl leaves his throat as his fingers slip into you, still wet from the hedge knight that had spent the last hour buried in you. Looking up at him, a gentle moan leaving your lips, you nod eagerly. 

“How many? Hm? How many men have you let run my perfect cunt?” Daemon taunts, wanting to hear you humiliate yourself for him. He loosens his hand that is gripped around your neck slightly, allowing himself room to start leaving wet kisses just below your ear.

“I- I’m not, not sure.” You answer honestly. It’s not like you keep track, you work until you have enough coins, whether it be one man or six. Daemon tuts are your answer, digging his thick fingers in as deep as he can, instantly finding that spongy sweet spot that no other man can seem to reach, as his palm works your clit at the same time. You begin to clench around him instantly, peak coming in quickly. Daemon, knowing exactly where you are heading, quickly removed his fingers and palm, leaving you with nothing. A small whine leaves your mouth at the loss of contact, your mind focusing on keeping your shaking legs up right. 

Daemon’s hand leaves your throat, hand untying the thin lace gown you have, leaving it to pool onto the ground beneath you. His arms quickly hoist you up, carrying you back to the bed, tossing you down as gently as he could muster in the moment. He quickly discards his white tunic and breeches, his naked body leaning over yours, lips attaching to your neck, and hands pawing at your stiff nipples. Your legs wrap about his waist, using your feet to pull him closer to you. 

Daemon’s kisses begin to move down your body, lips enveloping your collar bones, nipples, ribs and stomach. He leaves no part of you untasted as he makes his way down, face finally level with you warm and wet heat.

“Such a pretty cunny, just as pretty as the first time you gave her to me,” He hums as his head moves forward, licking a bold stripe to your dripping core, lips locking onto your clit and sucking gently. A gasp leaves you at the instant overstimulation. “Did those other dirty men look after her for me?” He raises his head, looking up at you from between your legs with a glint of mischief in his eyes. Wanting to save yourself from the embarrassment of answering you, buck your hips up to meet his mouth, wanting him to continue, but his arms wrap around your thigh and hands push down on your hips keep you away. “Answer my questions, doru-borto riña. Then you will get your reward.” 

“No.” You whine out, the tone of your voice making the heat rush your cheeks. 

“They didn’t look after her?” Daemon mocks in a cooing voice, a smirk etched on his face, his thumb lightly rubbing circles on your clit. “Did they neglect my poor cunt? Just used her for their own pleasure?”

You nod, mumbling out confirmation, tears welling up in your eyes. You have waited three years for this moment and the teasing is driving you insane.  All you care about is getting him inside you as quickly as possible. 

“Poor cunny. We’ll have to fix that won’t we?” His question was answered with a small squeak from you, as Daemon's mouths at your swollen lips, his tongue leaving his lips to poke at your hole, sucking on your clit.Tongue and fingers reaching the spongy parts of you that have you screaming for him. Just when you think it can’t get any better, he is humming into your wet folds and looking up at you with those lilac eyes, forcing you to the edge. Your toes curl and drag up his back as a loaded moan leaves your mouth, Daemon’s name slipping from your lips in babbles. Daemon groans into your cunt, electrifying the aftershocks of your toe-curling height. 

“Perfect like always,” Daemon presses a final soft kiss to your clit, causing your hips to jerk, hitting his chest as he crawls his way back up your body, caging up under him. He looms over you, a smile inking its way onto his face, lips and chin still glistening with your arousal. “The hedge cunt that was in here before me. What did he have you do?” 

You hesitate for a moment, eyes widening as you realise that Daemon had been in the brothel a lot longer than you thought.  His lips are going over your eyes, eyes burning into yours as he waits for your answer. 

“Answer me, whore.” Daemon speaks, hand roughly coming down on your breast, demanding an answer, lips reattaching to your neck leaving wet kisses. 

“He had me ride him, my prince.” You hummed, one of your hands finding its way into his now cropped hair. He huffs, before rolling off you, lying back beside you, head resting on the plush pillows. His hand reach to your hip, tugging you towards him. You scramble over to him, crawling on-top of him, thighs gently straddling his stomach. Your hands resting on his pecs, you look down at Daemon, biting your lip when his hands find the globes of your ass, kneading the flesh before landing a harsh spank across your left cheek, causing you to jut forward grinding your wet folds along his length. 

“Well go on then…show me.” He grunts out, you quickly follow his orders, reaching between your legs to grab his thick cock in your hand, teasing the tip along your entrance before sheathing yourself on him, sliding down slowly until he bottoms out inside of you. 

He can feel your walls stretching and fluttering around him, trying to accommodate him. You’re always so good and take all of him like he knows you can. You stay like that for a moment, not moving a inch, trying to control your breathe

“I said g-”

“You’re so much bigger” You whimper. Daemon smirks, as his hands move from your ass to your hips keeping you in place as he bucks his hips up, pulling out to then fully shove himself back into again. 

“Did you talk back to that last man that you let fuck you? Hm?.” His voice is condescending. You shake your head, and he tilts his brow down between the two of you, indicating for you to get to work. Quickly, you're fighting the slight burn from the stretch of him and lifting yourself up off of his cock and coming down in a steady rhythm. Daemon looks up at you, amused at your slow rhythm as you attempt fuck yourself on him, the look on his face causing you to grind harder, getting his cock to hit within you deeper, hitting your spot you love with each trust. 

“There you go. Did his cock make you feel like this?” Daemon questions, as his hands drift from your hips to play with your bouncing tits for a moment, before moving back to your hips for a moment, gripping them tightly to give himself some leverage to snap his hips up to meet your thrusts. Your walls instantly clamp around him, forcing a groan from his throat. 

“No? Only my cock can make this little cunt feel this good.” Daemon grunts, thumb reaching between your thighs to rub your clit and his lips finding one of your nipples sucking harshly. Your hands are softly rubbing his toned chest as you moan his name, fingers lingering on the mangled flesh of his left side, your mouth begging for him to keep on going. 

“Only you, only you.” You mumble out and he can feel that you’re close, can feel that at any moment you’re going to spasm on his cock and milk him for all that he’s worth. Suddenly Daemon’s flipping you on your back and roughly pushing your legs up over his shoulders so that it’s easy for him to plunge his cock deep inside you.

“You want my seed, whore? Milk my cock and carry my bastard? Is that what you want?” Your nodding as your hands grasp at his back, any words you hand dying on in your throat when he reaches his thick fingers down to rub quick circles on your clit,  walls clamping tightly down on him and tears beginning to well in your eyes. “You need to ask for it.” 

“Yes! Please, please fill me with your seed, I want it. Want your bastard in me.” You sound so broken and desperate and it causes Daemon’s balls to tighten as they continue to slap against your ass. 

“Take it then.” Your body stiffens to it high and the pleasure is so intense black spots begin to cloud your vision as Daemon fucks you through your high, eventually finding his own as he spills inside of you. He continues to thrust softly as he rides out his own high, eventually coming to a slow stop. He stays loomed over you, your legs still hook around his shoulders as the two of you to catch your breath. 

You gently unhook your legs, bringing them down between your bodies, Daemon lowering his body onto yours, his head dropping onto your bare, heaving chest as your hand moves to play with his silver strands. His cock stays nestled within you, among the sticky mess that he both created and left. 

“No more other men.” He whispers out. It’s gentle, but you know it is an order. You place a soft kiss to his sweaty forehead, continuing to stroke his soft hair. 

“I’m all yours.”

Enjoying writing these little one-shots! Any feedback in the form of likes, reblogs, comments or asks is deeply appreciated!

My masterlist can be found by click here!

You can add yourself to my taglist here!

#daemon targeryan #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen imagine #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon #hotd #matt smith #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x reader

[sprout-fics]

No bc I’ve been thinking about omega verse 141 and I want to know every single thought you have rattling around in ur beautiful head. I’m on my hands and knees begging 💕💕

Poly TF141 x Omega! Reader Headcanons

(Poly TF14 x F! Omega Reader)

(Part Three: Interest)

Tags: Omegaverse, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Hidden designations, Alpha! John Price, Alpha! Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Beta! Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, Omega! John 'Soap' MacTavish, Omega F! Reader, Group dynamics, Poly TF141, Omega discrimination, Slow burn

Masterlist

Things are...different after you get back from the mission where your heat broke

Price has sworn the team to secrecy, but it doesn't do much good, because your designation gets revealed pretty quickly

You're told by the base medic that you are forbidden from continuing the suppressants who have been using, because of their extremely toxic side-effects. The same medic mandates you for a 3 month long detox period to completely flush the suppressants from your body before you can continue a more prescribed set

You're furious about it, but recognize that if you continue to hide your designation the way you've been doing, it could last with some very very negative side-effects, and you aren't exactly keen on having your comrades assist you through a heat again

Not because they weren't...good...but because it's just so damn fucking awkward. How the hell are you supposed to ask your COs to fuck you through a heat? Fuck. That.

Without your suppressants, you're forced to walk around base blaring your scent to anyone who passes by. It causes quite a stir, considering everyone thought you'd been a beta up until that point

It also means that you get a number of unwanted advances from those interested in an unclaimed omega. You manage to brush them off and chase them away for the most part, up until you don't

You get cornered after training by a group of soldiers who pick at you for hiding your designation, for being unclaimed, for being an omega

You feel your heart thump up your chest, trying to find a way to dart past them when a huge, looming shadow falls over you all

Ghost stares down at the group like they're insects. Displeasure and contempt written clear across his face. He barely needs to speak before the group is scampering off with tails tucked between their legs

Ghost doesn't advance where they have left space, merely nods at you and continues on his way

It's...startling and relieving all at once, and you realize quickly that the team is more than happy to provide scary guard dog privileges when you need them

It's Soap who tries to bridge the gap first. Soap offers advice about navigating as an omega, and even though he's claimed you find it's helpful to have a friend

That's the other thing though. You realize Soap is constantly sporting a healthy amount of alpha scent marking from not one but two alphas. It takes a bit to wrap your head around, but you suppose it makes sense with how close they all are

You ignore the tug in your stomach that wishes you had that too

Somehow the group has taken a liking to you, and at first you think it's purely sexual based off them helping you through your abrupt heat

Yet there's offerings to help you get adjusted. A pillowcase left in your locker that smells like one of them, one of them gently bumping you in the hallway to rub a dose of scent on you, getting used to sitting with one of them during meals to chase away unwanted courters

It's nice, you admit. You enjoy their company. Soap is lively and playful, Gaz is sweet and has wry humor that makes you smile. It's uncommon for you to eat with Price, but when you do there's a comfortable mentorship there that has your shoulders go a little lax in relief

Ghost is known to occasionally join you all, but you know the lieutenant prefers to eat in the privacy of his room. He makes up for it in other ways, looms behind you when you're facing down another group of alphas who have taken an interest in you, checking in on you from afar. Silent but present. Watching.

You find yourself slowly developing friendships with them all, smiling when you see them, opening up to them and realizing maybe there's more to their advances than you originally guessed

You think perhaps they want you too

#poly 141 x reader #modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #omegaverse tf 141 #omegaverse cod #omegaverse dynamics #omegaverse #drabbles #headcanons

[xo-cod]

Cockwarming simon and having a casual conversation but can't stop kissing and touching each other and moving a little bit so it's just talking about the most mundane stuff while kissing and moaning mid convo

i fell in love w this and it's so :") i hope you enjoy love.

cw: cockwarming, ooc/soft simon, rushed (but i can def go into more detail if you want 😵‍💫)

nothing in the world belongs to me but my love is mine, all mine

work had been tough.

it always was but this week had been incredibly difficult on him. not to mention with the fact that both of you had been so busy there hadn't been time for much of anything. he didn't think he could miss a person more, didn't think he could desire a person more than you. he all but rushed home, ignoring the looks from price and gaz and the call from johnny. he could deal with it all tomorrow, his mind and heart were after one thing. after one person.

and there you were, cuddled on the bed the remote in your hands as your eyes watched the movie mindlessly. the light illuminating your features making the moment that much more intimate. he definitely broke some rules on his drive over back home but it was all worth it, for this beautiful moment here.

"what's on?" his deep voice fills the air and your head turns, a soft chuckle leaving your lips when you see him pad through and feel the bed shift underneath his weight to come closer to you

"some rom com" came your answer and a soft laugh falls from his scarred lips, settling in right beside you.

"should've waited for me" he hummed, his fingers pulling off his skull balaclava as he took a soft breath in. humming in contentment when his lips meet your warm skin, nuzzling deep into your neck. you figured he would settle down, turn his tired eyes to the tv and watch with you until sleep ultimately claimed his body. though in your arms now, he was fidgeting and fussing unable to get close. somehow he couldn't seem to get comfortable and with a soft grunt, pulled back a little and eyed your pajamas as if they had offended him terribly

"can you... take these off, love? please?" he asked tiredly, already tugging on the hem of your top while his eyes flicked back to yours again

"you want it off?" you clarify and he nods, brown eyes burning with emotion while he shifts further into you even if he had been pressed so close to your body there hadn't been a slither of space available. and when you give him the nod of approval, his hands reach out and gently pull your top over your head. his palms skimming your warm body with delight, pressing his face closer as he peppers lazy kisses all across your chest and neck

"long day?" your tone is gentle, your arms around his neck as they gently scratch the back of his neck making him shiver with bliss. it had been one of weak spots and he adored how much you used it to your advantage

"long long day" came his response, a soft groan falling from his lips when he stretches his back a little, big hands roaming every expanse of skin he could reach. but still, even this wasn't enough for him.

"need you, need to be inside you lovie" he murmured softly, caging you securely inside his huge arms and being so close, you can smell his musk tinged with his cologne, your body reacting on autopilot. as if you couldn't deny the sweet man in your arms of anything anyway

simon's body finally relaxed for once throughout this long terrible day, arms wound closely around you. his lips nudge yours, his lips battling yours trying to steal your breath and hold it hostage with his lips. he drank in your sounds, his tongue swiping your lower lip as it dipped into your mouth

he nudged your legs apart with his knee, fingers hooked over the waistband of your underwear before he tugged it down and delicately placed it on the side of the bed. the head of his cock rubbed against the wetness of your slit. he loved teasing himself for a second or so, knowing just how good your wetness would feel around him. he could've got drunk high of this feeling every time, you never disappointed him.

a small groan when he pushes his hips a little, relishing in the way you already clenched around him. he's usually composed even through the highs of euphoria but it had been too damn long, a soft whimper escapes him at just how good you feel. he's not ghost, he's not someone that has to be in control right now. he's relinquished it all up to you, he's just someone that wants to be in the throes of pleasure again and again.

"christ, y'feel so bloody good baby" his breathing was laboured, words slurring softly as his eyes closed almost immediately when his hips thrust the slightest bit. it's not meant to be sexual tonight, he just needed to feel grounded and closer to you. he pushes until he bottomed out, one arm wrapped around your waist while the other came to the back of your neck to kiss you tenderly again and again. his face pressed in the crook of your neck as if it had been made for him, his breathing slowing down as his body calmed down for the first time that day.

"s'all yours lovie, m'yours" he could barely keep his eyes open, snuggled up close enjoying your warmth. finally feeling safe between your arms and the blanket wrapped around him

#asks #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader smut

[808len808]

Breaking point

!Pupppy Leon S. Kennedy x Gender Neutral Reader!

Summery: Your poor pup was to scared to tell you that he's going into heat.

Authers note: I don't know what this is, I wrote half of it while I was drunk and the rest I wrote in the span of a month so the first part of the story is a bit messy, but I promise it gets better. !Disclaimer: by puppy Leon I mean a hybrid, I do not support zoophilia!

!Warnings!: Nsfw themes, "Reader" can be all genders.

(Words: 4,405)

(sorry if it's cringe 😭)

The summer had ended, well at least the vacation. it was the most awesome vacation of Leon’s life! You were home every single day, he went where you went day in and day out. To the park, lake, and forest, but also at home. He got all the attention. But now you had to leave for work again for 5 days a week from 9 to 5 and he was stuck at home, waiting for his precious owner to come back.

He spent most of his time just lying down in spaces where your scent was strongest, couch, bedroom, those spots. Usually, he’d stay on the couch sleeping or thinking about you, how you would greet him with a smile when you came back, how you would pet that special spot between his ears, his tail already started wiggling at the thought of it. 

Fuck, this was too hard. He looked at the clock; only 3 more hours, but for him it felt like years, mostly because he couldn’t sleep anymore, and because he really had to go out for a walk. 

He got up from the couch and went to the kitchen to see if you had accidentally left any food for him to grab, but unfortunately nothing, he could try to stand up and grab something from inside the cabinets, but then he would feel bad for disobeying you, then he wouldn’t be a good boy.

Ever since the summer vacation, he felt the need to be around you so much stronger, he felt the need to be with you at all times, to receive praise, to be held, to be cradled, and most importantly to please you. 

His ears perked up, suddenly feeling something in his stomach, it was weird, he went over to your bedroom your scent only growing stronger just like the feeling on his stomach. When you first adopted him you didn’t let him into your bedroom at all hoping to make a clear line between owner and pet but along the summer that line started to fade. The few nights he would spend the night curled up against you on your bed were the best.

He felt incredibly proud even thinking back to one of those nights, just sleeping next to you, your fingers going through his hair until he fell asleep. 

A huff grasped through his nose whiffing up your scent, his nose going up in the air. A small shiver went down his spine as he continued sniffing, trying to pinpoint the strongest scent, it was a whole different scent that he smelled, it reminded him of sweat but different much nicer, much more attractive, like it was pulling him towards itself. 

He followed his nose eagerly, coming to the bathroom connected to your room, he stopped in his tracks. He’s never been in your bathroom. He stared at the scary door gulping, he still had plenty of time before you would arrive home, but he already felt bad contemplating breaking your rules, well you never specifically said he couldn’t go in there… the times he tried, you had told him to wait outside or wait in the living room because you were having “alone time” whatever that meant. 

But now he was alone, he took one glance behind him, checking if you hadn’t suddenly come back. Luckily you didn’t, so he went in gently opening the door. It was just a regular bathroom, shower, toilet, sink with a mirror, so where did the scent come from?

Leon’s eyes scanned the room until he spotted the hamper, placed in the corner. He quickly hopped his way over, looking to claim his price. He stuck his nose in the pile of clothes in the hamper, all yours and a few of his garments. 

He never used to wear clothes, it wasn’t normal for hybrids to do, but since he was more on the human side -the only dog thing about him being his tail, ears, and senses, having human parts, and being able to do human things, he could walk and talk but it was just a harder to do so, he preferred not to but ever since he got off the streets, and adopted you learned him to do so,  also made him wear clothes. He still preferred to be shirtless so he would crawl his way out of them every chance he got.-

anywayyyy back to the story.

His hands mixed in throwing things away until he found the source, one pair of underwear more specifically your underwear. He happily took it in his mouth without a single thought. Proud to have found what he was searching for he went back to his crate, taking the used garment in his hands as he laid on his soft mat sniffing it until he dared to lick. An intense feeling sent shocks through his body, he felt something beneath him twitch. He didn’t register what happened. A breathy huff escaped his lips, but it sounded more like a whine. Hot flashed his face, taking another lick just to test if it would happen again, it did. 

His belly tingled a small sense of excitement filled his mind, he continued to lap only making the ominous feeling between his legs grow nose buried in the piece of clothing, curled up in his bench. 

He didn’t even realize he had fallen asleep when you came back, he excitedly sprung up, tail wagging behind as you turned the key into the lock greeted by Leon’s big blues you closed the door behind you before getting down to pet him, he eagerly leaned in your touch small puffs leaving his nose as you pet his head to the place between his ears back to under his soft jawline. 

“I missed you so much!” Leon excitedly told you almost panting. 

He looked so excited you felt bad stopping now, you walked over to the couch, Leon almost blocking your way by circling around your legs. “Come here,” you giggled as you invited Leon to the space next to you on the couch. You didn’t have to tell him twice, he immediately jumped to the spot landing half on you in an over-enthusiastic way, he pushed one hand on your thigh encouraging you to continue petting him, which you gladly did.

“I was sooo lonely, I missed you so much, it’s so boring without you! I’m so so happy you’re back!” Leon rapidly bladdered making you chuckle a bit, he was always so energetic which could be tiring but you didn’t mind right now, it was actually kind of nice to have someone who was always excited to see you. 

Minutes passed, and he was still pressed against you talking your ear off with things he had thought of today, your petting eventually slowed into soft strokes, Leon’s tail slowed down as he ran out of things to say a big content smile on his face his ears were back eyes closed almost purring into your touch. So relaxed. 

It was all your normal routine until you spotted something particular, your underwear, in Leon’s crate. Your brows furrowed looking back to the innocent puppy next to you. After a bit of thinking and mostly contemplating what to do about it you got up from the soft cushions. Leon perked up confused at the loss of touch. He saw you walk over to his crate crouching down to examine your piece of clothing like it was a crime scene. 

“Leon? What’s this?” you asked looking over your shoulders to meet his worried eyes. He knew that look, and immediately he was stressed, Oh no did he do something bad? He really didn’t want to be a bad boy! What did he do?!

Leon tilted his head in shame not wanting to respond. Not knowing what to say, scared he would make it worse.

“Come over here,” you ordered, your voice rather sweet than commanding, hoping to not worsen Leon’s nervousness any further He hopped off the couch and did a small walk of shame to the crate, tail tucked between his legs, next to where you were crouched he sat down, trying to prove that he was still a good boy. 

“Well?” you started to get impatient. The scared dog avoided your eyes, going back to the now wet underwear. “I-… I just missed your scent…” Leon pleaded, looking up to you trying to win you over with his sad puppy eyes. You narrowed your eyes thinking of a way to teach your pup that this wasn’t okay, but you just couldn’t find it in you to punish him, until he spoke up again. 

“I just- it tasted so…good” Leon explained further as if it would help him, it didn’t, in fact, it did the opposite.

The gears inside of your head finally spun. Your scent, he wanted all your attention, the way he pawed at you all the time, this wasn’t a pet owner situation, he was attracted to you. 

You gulped deeply staring into Leon’s eyes, nothing but innocence and worry, the poor thing probably didn’t even know what he was feeling. Your lips pressed together into a thin line, you needed to stop this before it got out of hand even when you felt bad doing it. 

You picked your undies up, moving to stand up. Leon stayed down his eyes following your every move. “Leon,” you started putting away your feelings, you needed to set boundaries, you needed to be responsible here. “You can’t pick up my clothes, those are mine, not yours.” He looked down at his hands, anxiety spreading over his face, but you weren’t done yet he needed to learn there were consequences to his actions.

“I also do not want you to go into my room or the bathroom while I’m not home.” He absently nodded seeming like he was at the brink of tears for being called out alone. “Now I know you hate this, but you need to learn that there’s consequences to your actions.” His head shot up, panic in his eyes as you strictly pierced his eyes with yours. “no-no-please,-I’ll be good-I’ll never do it again-please,” he tried but you didn’t budge you stood your ground while pointing at his cage, Leon already knew what was coming to a terrified look on his face -god he is so dramatic- as you pointed to his crate. 

“No-no-no!”He franticly shook his head. “please, I don’t wanna go!” He pawed at your ankles pleading. You stood your ground. “Leon,” you warned, he knew he was only making it worse by begging but he really, really didn’t want to go on the crate. “Please-I’m sorry- I’m really-sorry- please!” He looked at you from where he was sitting his bottom lip trembling as he felt his eyes start to water.

“I’m not going in! I can’t- you can’t make me!” He raised his voice, which made you glare down at him. Immediately his ears went down as he felt himself cripple under your glare. 

“Bad. Boy. Go in your cage.” Tears started to fall you felt guilty for hurting your precious pup, especially about making him cry, but you didn’t let it show, you stayed cold and emotionless. He let out a small whimper as he obliged, unable to deny your order, he looked back almost betrayed, like he hadn’t had this coming. 

“It’s just for the night,” you said as you closed the bench trapping Leon in the iron bars, a soft mat, and a blanket on the ground (because you are not a monster) his fingers clamped around the bars. You left, you had eaten out, so you didn’t have any more business in the living room. You made your way back to your bedroom, throwing the clothes Leon had spread across the bathroom back into the hamper, throwing away your underwear later. 

So there he was, he had been so excited to be around you all day, and he actually could do that right now, be curled up against you snuggling but no, instead he was trapped in this cage, this prison the restraint that kept him from going to you. He sighed feeling betrayed in some way. He didn’t understand what he had done wrong, of course, he knew that picking your clothes was wrong, but getting punished for it, that’s a bit too much.

You never punished Leon ever, so this was really strange. Leon was confused but mostly felt bad, so very bad for making you disappointed in him. He curled up on the crate hugging the blanket in sorrow pretending that it was you as the last lights went out. 

-

The morning came agonizingly slow for Leon, the lack of sleep making him hump up as you entered the room, he sat up tail already swooshing side to side regardless of his exhaustion. You walked in your pajamas to his bench Leon’s fingers grasping the metal begging for his release. 

You kneeled down to his level, right in front of him. “Are you going to be a good boy?” you asked tilting your head in a questioning way, he nodded as fast as possible. “Talk,” you demanded. “Yes, yes I’ll be good,” he begged, half shaking the bars, you complied unlocking his “prison”. 

He almost jumped onto you making you sit back down on the ground. “I’m so sorry- it will never happen again, I promise, I promise,” he repeated over and over again as he tried to get you to hug him, you let out a breath chuckle and complied, “It’s okay sweetheart.” You pet his head to which he smiled even more leaning in your touch as he always did. 

And there it was again, that funny feeling in his stomach. At first, he thought it was just hunger, but the more you pet him the more he wanted to stay closer to you, press against you. The arousal pooling in his stomach stayed even when you pulled away, even when you fed him, even when you went out for a walk, and even when you left for work again. 

Leon was left alone with that unfamiliar feeling in his stomach leaving him to do the figuring out, Leon lay on his signature place on the couch. You had bought him a book for him to read. A simple book, just to help Leon fit in with the human side of him, also forcing him to walk upright on his feet when in public, he found it hard and tiring but he wasn’t about to disappoint you, not after he already did. 

So maybe that was why he was picking up the book, and starting to try and read it. It was easy enough. As time passed the feeling in his stomach tightened, like his organs were tormenting him. It wasn’t necessarily unpleasant, more like a neediness for something, only he didn’t know what. 

It came to the point where he couldn’t focus on the words anymore, his problem shadowed all his thoughts and made sure it was impossible for the poor pup to think straight. The only thing he noticed was that his pants felt small, smaller than usual, even when he had gotten used to them by now, they suddenly felt too small.

Leon frowned putting the book down to finally try and do something about his problem, he looked down to check if he could see anything from the outside. His face lit up as if he had just opened the previously used oven, and slapped the heat in his face, down his body making his skin tingle.

His hands followed the skin of his stomach expecting to find some kind of bruise or lump, but nothing only hot skin. His hand found its way to his pants to see if he could feel anything there. He let out an embarrassingly loud whine as he felt the bulge tenting his pants. His eyes dared to look down, only gasping at the sight, his hands weren’t betraying him, there really was a huge bulge. 

Contemplating what to do he experimentally cupped it with his hand through his pants, a whine even louder ran over his tongue, so hard that he swore he could hear it echoing through the walls.

But it felt good, it felt sensitive, but in a good way, in a very very good way, he has to feel it again. He slightly squeezed the bulge making his stomach turn in a way that felt so satisfying he couldn’t help but double over. 

Leon could feel his body trembling not used to these sensations at all, but he couldn’t stop, he started to create a small friction for himself, trying to satisfy this overwhelming need he suddenly felt. 

His hips involuntarily jerked up in his hand making his crotch throb as a whine left his mouth, his eyes closing in concentration trying to find whatever he needed, but it was hard to think, he felt so powerless, so desperate for something, but what was that something? 

Leon’s hand slightly sped up making him pant. His whole body felt on fire, so hot, he felt the need to take his suffocating clothes off but was too overwhelmed to do so. 

He kept going his legs trembling hands shaking sweat making everything stick together, but it still wasn’t enough, Leon didn’t understand, he never felt this, and frankly, he didn’t understand one bit of it. 

Eventually, his member felt like it was going numb. Leon desperately kept going even when it was starting to hurt, but to no avail, it just wasn’t enough. His hand stopped and so did the friction, his thoughts coming back to him together with a worried feeling, what even was that? What happened? He was left feeling guilty somehow like he did something shameful even when it felt so good. Was it bad? Was Leon doing something bad? 

He started to feel stressed, it feels bad now… and he really didn’t want to disobey you again especially when he was already put in the crate yesterday. Just then the lock turned, Leon’s ears perked up he hadn’t even smelled you, his arousal taking up all the scent in the room. 

Leon quickly jumped off the couch tail turning into a blur by how hard it was wagging. He was more excited than ever to see you. He whined a bit as he struggled to walk over to the door, the now painful bulge rubbing against his pants, he needed to get them off but that was not the priority right now. The priority was you.

You opened your front door, Leon’s face immediately greeting you, you always loved to come home to him, and his sweet smile, it grew only brighter as he saw you. (2 meninges 😧😏) 

“Hi! how’s your day?” Leon immediately spoke as you walked in hanging your coat up and sighing not noticing Leon’s state.

“It was fine” you shrugged putting away your shoes and patting Leon’s head. “How about you, have you been a good boy?” You said grinning as Leon grew red. “Mhm, I’ve been good all day,” Leon answered only it was a lie, a lie because he wasn’t a good boy. He did something new and it felt bad so so bad and he was scared to tell you. What if you’ll put him in his cage again? He’d rather lie than be imprisoned again. 

You walked over to the kitchen picking out food from the cabinets. “Yeah? What you do all day pup?” Leon followed you into the kitchen looking at the ingredients you put on the marble countertop. 

Leon thought his tail still rapidly swinging behind him. “I read like you told me to.” Leon smiled sheepishly at you ignoring the pain he was feeling downstairs. He could ignore it, he would ignore it for you. 

But eventually, you break, eventually, you burst, as any normal person does. A pup can’t hold something that big from you, and hide his pain…

His breaking point came at midnight. 

He was happily cuddled by you, he adored being small spoon. Until he woke up, drenched in sweat, panting, every piece of skin sticking to something. Leon groaned the world coming to him as he awoke his eyes and mouth dry. Waves of pain hit him from his crotch through his legs, a small whine escaped as he looked down, it was still the same, it was a wonder you hadn’t noticed yet. 

Leon’s whole body was in a state of fight or flight his senses heightened. He couldn’t take this anymore. He whined again as he stood up, legs trembling under his weight as he made it to the bathroom. He felt like throwing up. He struggled to grab a hold of the sink hoping for some stability but the cold on his sweaty hand only made him hiss. 

He was hot and cold at the same time, was it some kind of fiver? No this was different much different. Another wave of heat surged through Leon’s body his face red his lungs having trouble keeping up with his heavy breathing. He couldn’t look at himself in the mirror, his eyes caught glimpses down his body but none registered. With whines still leaving him he clawed at his clothes trying to wiggle his way out of them. The pants dropped to the tiles and so did his shirt everything was off but still he was as hot as one can be.

It was all too much and what was worse was that he didn’t even know what was going on. At this point Leon didn’t care if he got sent to his cage he just wanted the pain to stop nothing else mattered. 

He shook as he stumbled back into the bedroom. “Leon?” You asked just woken up as well, squinting your eyes to make out your pup’s features. His breath and his whimpers together with Leon not responding got you worried. “Leon, are you okay?”

“Please,” he whined collapsing next to you on the bed. “Please what? What’s going on?” Your voice continued to grow more and more worried. You turned and switched the light on, and there he was in full light his chest heaving up and down sweat dripping down his face, his ears flat on his head. His eyes closed tight his eyebrow furrowing into a painful look. 

With one glance down everything became clear. “Oh, baby,” you muttered softly. He was going in heat. “What’s wrong with me?” Leon choked out. “Nothing sweetheart, nothing at all,” you reassured brushing strands of hair that stuck to his face away. 

“I’m going to help you okay?” Leon nodded frantically in response tears brimming his eyes as tears slowly fell down his face, landing on the pillow, your sweet pup, he must be in so much pain for so long, poor thing was suffering in silence all this time and you hardly noticed. 

He was squirming waiting for you to do something, to do anything, anything to make the pounding in his head go away. His consciousness almost faded when you scratched behind his ears making his tail wag despite the pain he was in. It thumps against the white covers beneath him with it forming a small smile on your face.

“You’ll be fine sweetheart, I’ll take care of you,” you cooed softly multitasking as you moved your hand down his sticky body going gently over all his shapes and moles, going over the small trail of hair leading to the source of his problem. His hips jerked up a few times as you did. 

His cute little cock stood high and proud, pearly beads leaping down his length it was a beautiful sight. Under normal circumstances, you would’ve admired your pet for hours like this but this was a case with urgency and there was no time to spare.

Leon’s eyes shot open when you wrapped your hand around his base, a hand flying up to your shirt to take a handful of the soft fabric. “Wh-what?” He looked up at you with big eyes then back to the scene, blinking. Before he could do or say anything else you stroked up and down again. Leon quickly deflated, eyes rolling back as his head fell back into the pillow. Whines and whimpers fell from his mouth as you continued.

You started off slow so he could catch up with you twisting your wrists a few times and pulling utteral moans of pleasure from him. His plump lips kept parted eyes half-lidded going down and up with the movement of your hand and then to your own eyes. He strictly held on to your shirt as if his life depended on it his grip only growing stronger with every stroke of your hand. 

“Hmm-s’good-please-nhgh,” incoherent mumbles escaped his lips it was adorable. His pitch went up only higher and higher to a point that you almost couldn’t recognize the vulnerable voice of your pup. 

You sped up, his hips struggling to keep up with your pace, his eyelids scrunched together, you grabbed the hand holding your shirt and wrapped it in yours intertwining your hands while the other was cramping on Leon’s puppy dick. His tail was rapidly moving the sheets his ears perked up straight into the air. 

“Ah-wait-!” You didn’t react or wait instead you did the opposite only going faster. Leon let out a gut-wrenching moan his voice cracking into a whimper multiple times as he came white sputtered all over his stomach, continuing to drip down the white sheets as more continued to flow and coat your hand with sticky white ropes.

You slowly stopped, leaving his cock flat, Leon hesitantly opened one eye before the other a sit he was scared but he only saw your sweet smile. Before he could open his other eye you had your clean hand which was previously holding his, in Leon’s hair. “Good job Leon” you comfort his ears immediately twitching as you did. 

A cheeky smile was returned his cute bright eyes staring at you with excitement. “I did good?” He sat up slightly, the bed dipping in weight as he did. “Yeah, you did amazing sweetheart.” You cupped his cheek he sighed and closed his eyes, his body turning soft in your touch. 

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x male reader #resident evil #hybrid leon kennedy #puppy leon #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x gn!reader

[rodolfoparras]

First of all love your writing 🩵🩵

Secondly just finished reading your barreks bunny top reader post and can’t help but think that dynamic but omegaverse.

Poor reader is the only Alpha around how could they not take care of their sweet needy omega team mates. You can’t convince the boys wouldn’t fight every heat cycle to be marked/claimed first.

Pairing: Top male reader x bottom TF141/ Alpha reader x omega TF141

Omega Price who hasn’t gone into heat for years, but has his senses go into frenzy when you the young alpha come around and while you’re more than happy to help your squad members through their heats Price had felt ashamed for going into heat at his old age and didn’t want to ask you for help especially when you already got three young omegas on your roaster.

So when Price is in his office and heat starts licking at his skin, he’s quick to strip the clothes off of his body, and burry his nose in one of your jackets that you left with him, while fingering his slick cunt, cumming over and over again but it’s never enough so he takes out the dildo he keeps in a drawer of his desk, sticks it to the floor and sinks down onto the toy, uncaring of the fact that he’s left the door open as he fucks himself onto the plastic cock.

He’s got fat tears trickling down his cheeks, bottom lip wobbling as he begs and pleads for someone to take care of him because the toy just isn’t doing it for him.

All of a sudden he hears your voice next to his ear, feel your arms wrapping around him, as your scent becomes more prominent to him “John”

“Hm?” Price’s mind is still lost in haze but he manages to crank his neck to meet your gaze.

“Let me take care of you John hm?” you murmur into his skin before placing a kiss in the crook of his neck.``please”

It’s only then he realizes that you’re right there with him, that this isn’t just a dream and only then does he halt the movements of his hips, hands wrapping around your neck as he relaxes into your embrace “Mm - alright - alright” he slurs out, nodding his head in response

Omega Gaz and Omega Soap who go into heat when you aren’t around so they have to help each other out with Gaz buried between soap’s legs, lapping at his dripping wet cunt while his own hole is dripping with slick and clenching around nothing, and moaning your name over and over again

Every once a while they’ll switch positions with Gaz sitting on Soap’s face, tufts of hair wrapped around his fingers while rocking his hips at an erratic pace until he reaches climax but no matter what they do it never feels enough, feels nothing like being stretched around your cock, feels nothing like taking your knot, nothing like the burn that comes with the stretch and the way your knot throbs while buried inside of them

eventually soap is just grunting and groaning in complaint while the ache keeps growing between Gaz’s legs and it doesn’t take much before they’re dialing your numbers with tears trickling down their cheeks bottom lip wobbling pleading for you to just come home and fuck them

When you arrive back home you’re met with the sight of them laying in a nest made up of your clothes, as soon they spot you, they’re on you with Soap lapping at your scent glands, nose turning up every time he catches a foreign scent on you while gaz is trying to take your clothes off, unceremoniously ripping off whatever’s left off your battered and bloodied uniform

Neither of them let you off the bed until you smell like them, leaving marks and imprints wherever they can reach, going round after round and arguing over who’s turn it is to sit on your dick, until you’re on the verge of passing out while hearing Soap utter the words “one more time”

Omega Ghost who’s cautious of you, always has of any alphas in his life, fearing they’ll take advantage of him especially when he’s in heat but you never overstepped any boundaries, only ever treated him as part of the pack and never as a piece of meat

Ghost thought he’d be fine with that until his heat came around and every inch of his body was begging for him to submit, for you to have him down on all four plunging your cock into his slick hole and stuffing him full til he’s dripping off your cum and laying speared onto your knot

However he can’t get himself to ask, cant swallow down his pride and have you help him out so instead every heat he locks himself away in his room and fucks himself on whatever toy he’s got burried in his closet

it’s not enough god it’s never enough a plastic cock will never feel as good as your knot but that’s something he can’t allow himself to have yet so instead he listens in while you help another member through his heat, the sound of your shared moans trickling into his room and before he knows of it he’s jerking himself off to the sounds you make

and of course you’d hear him how could you miss it when he gets so loud as he inches closer to his climax so as a way to indulge him you increase your efforts fucking soap or gaz or price harder into the mattress till the sound of slapping skin and sounds of pleasure are echoing throughout the room and you hear him scream out your name as he reaches his climax

Ghost might not be ready yet but when he is, you’ll be there waiting

#call of duty #top male reader #dom male reader #bottom male character #john price x reader #john price x male reader #gaz x reader #gaz x male reader #soap x reader #soap x male reader #ghost x reader #ghost x male reader

[thegnomelord]

What about Monster!AU for prompt 5. Male reader and price please :)

Sure thing anon, made it a mage reader again, was trying to study for a 'lovely' surprise test but inspiration decided to strike me :/. Play the game HERE

Prompt: “My feelings aren’t real and my heart’s a fucking idiot.”

CW:NSFW, switch/power bottom Dragon Price, Male Mage reader, Oral, Anal, shower sex, semi public sex, reader is oblivious for a bit.

Price swears his hair and scales are going to go completely gray because of you.

You've been avoiding him for a week now, and all the base knows why — Price can still hear your desperate voice begging and bargaining with whatever will listen "I'll buy you dinner please-just stay alive- I love you- damn it you slimy bastard don't you dare die on me-" as you try to keep him alive, magic flowing from your arms to heal the gaping hole in his side despite the bullets raining overhead; a valiant knight protecting him like he's a prince instead of a dragon.

And Price can remember the way his heart had fluttered at your words, at the way you had hugged him so firmly to keep him safe as your magic raged all around you like a wild force of nature, at the way you looked at him so tenderly— eyes burning with mana like the gaze of a god he's your most prized possession —right before the blood loss made him black out.

But now that Price was out of the hospital, his side permanently marked with your magic and a hefty load of paperwork on his desk, you were acting like you never said anything. Anytime someone brings it up you just ignore them, ignore him, throwing yourself into training as much as you can. And it's getting on his nerves, his draconic blood making anger and malcontent burn in his bones because you'd looked at him like a mate but now it's like he doesn't exist beyond training and missions.

He knows it's against the rules, knows he shouldn't hope for much when he sets out to find you, but he does. It's not hard; though his sensitive nose easily picks up the stench of magic, it's the lingering mana burrowed into his skin that tugs him in a direction, even the foreign parts of him wanting you. He finds you alone in the training room, the ground around you scorched beyond hell.

"We need ta' talk lad." Price rumbles as he closes the door behind him, the deep thrum of his voice hiding the anxious pressure he feels in his chest.

Your head whips to look at him. Price cherishes the way your eyes soften when you see him like a glittering gem. Then a sea of ice settles over your eyes, and you turn your head back to the target dummy as if looking at Price makes you sick. "Nothing to talk about captain."

"That so?" Price asks like he doesn't believe you, because he doesn't. Ancient instincts tug on his mind and he follows them. You know he knows what's plaguing your mind, both of you are aware of the elephant in the room and Price can see the way your shoulders progressively tense as he draws near. But you're a stubborn fool, you refuse to show how his presence makes your heart beat faster despite how each of his steps rings like a gunshot in your ears.

Your mind fails to conjure up words but you force an "Hmh," out of your throat, trying to ignore how Price is so close to you, the heat of his body radiating into yours. His remaining wing stretches out, scales and leathery membranes barely brushing over your shoulder, but the intent is clear; the claim is clear.

You try to ignore him, ignore yourself, clinging to the sensation of your sharp mana digging into your veins as you summon another bout of magic to shoot at the training dummy, whisps of formless energy quickly forming into your preferred element.

His hand settles on your hip, not enough to make you loose focus just yet. "Because last ah remember," He leans in closer, the smell of black coffee and cigars on his breath. This close he can smell you instead of your magic, his chest rumbling against your back with a happy purr. "you promised me dinner if I lived."

You nearly choke on air, your magic sputtering out like an old car engine. "I-" You whirl around, your noses almost touching from how close you are. "-that's not what I'd meant!"

His heart should break at that, but before it can his sensitive ears pick up how rapidly your heart's pounding in your chest, reptilian eyes noting how you're flushed more than usual, breathing rapidly without even noticing it.

"Really now?" That greedy part in his bones urges him on, begging and pleading for him to just take you. His other hand settles on your shoulder, keeping you in place, close to him just like he wants. "Then ah suppose all that 'bout me bein' a slimy bastard was also not true?"

You want to flinch away but can't, your own body a traitor to you, a deep frown tugging on your lips. "Price, I wasn't-"

"And-" He cuts you off by leaning even closer, his forehead resting against yours and fuck, your head fits perfectly between his horns, like you belong there. "-I must've misheard you when you said you loved me?" He raises an eyebrow, voice both teasing and serious, holding his breath.

Just that small contact of skin on skin has your resolve crumbling like sand, "Listen, just-" You suck in a sharp breath, the situation both bliss and hell for you. “My feelings aren’t real and my heart’s a fucking idiot. Okay? And just-" You try to stammer the same lies you'd tell yourself every time you'd catch yourself thinking of him more than just your captain (which was way too often).

Price's clawed hand grips your chin and manually closes your mouth, his smooth scales cool against your warm body. You forget to breathe, your eyes flickering all over his face as he smirks, voice deep and guttural like the rumble of moving tectonic plates. "Then I'm an idiot too."

The world goes completely silent as he kisses you, holding your head still so he can claim your lips for himself, his deep purr shaking both of your chests when you submit so easily to him, like getting a gulp of fresh air after years of drowning.

You're so lost in his taste and his scent and just him you don't notice when Price roughly pulls you into the showers, tail and wing and arms holding your body; as if your brain could even conjure the thought of leaving. Bursts of awareness assault your mind every time you part for a breath and to displace a piece of clothing, his sharp claws tickling your skin as he can't wait and just cuts through your remaining clothes.

Clawed fingers grip your hair and tilt your head back, exposing your throat to sharp fangs and you submit easily, trusting him not to hurt you too much. Low sounds rumble in your throat as Price marks you, biting one spot until it bleeds your mana rich blood, greedily drinking up the crimson droplets and soothing the wound with his tongue just enough for the sting to become pleasant before biting again. Bite, lick, bite, lick, bite, lick— chest rumbling with satisfaction he pulls away, "Oh, look at you," He growls, your throat turned into a warzone, "So handsome, like a charming knight."

You snort and grip his hips, the water of the shower raining down the two of you. "Yeah?" You ask as you turn him around, pushing his chest against the wall as you drop to your knees. "Gonna let me lay you?" You ask, kissing down his spine, your rough hands groping and fondling his ass.

"Wanker," Price growls and lifts his tail, revealing his hole to you. You almost cum on the spot from the sight of it, looking every bit what you'd imagined he'd look like. But you don't get to look for long before his tail wraps around your throat, soft underbelly scales scraping against your bruised throat as he pulls you closer. "Only, if you prove your worth."

You don't need a formal invitation, pushing your tongue out as you slobber all over his hole, your hands keeping his asscheeks spread so you can worm your tongue into his hole, feeling him clench around your tongue, his moans ringing like angel song in your ears. His claws tangle in your hair, pushing your head even closer to worship him better. And you do, like a pious believer you lick and suck and nibble around his hole, your nose buried in the space between his ass and tail, barely able to breathe but it's a small price to pay.

Finally he grows greedy for more, his tail releases a fraction and he shoves you, making you fall back on your ass, your cock standing like a flagpole. You only manage to rise up on your elbows before Price jumps on you like the beast he is, thigh powerful thighs bracketing your own, his clawed fingers scraping against your skin as they settle on your shoudlers.

"Now then," Price rumbles like an ancient mountain, reptilian eyes hooded with lust. He feels on top of the world with the way you look at him, like a desperate mutt, your cock hard like a rock between his legs. "Stay still, mighty knight, an-" Price lifts himself up, positioning your cockhead at his puckered rim. "-relax."

The running water muffles your combined groans, his walls hot and tight like the fire in his chest. His weight bears down on you, wing stretching out in a show of pleasure, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he pants. "Fuck," Price growls, grinding his hips down into yours. "Feel so good, lad."

You grunt, your hands fitting on his hips like they always belonged there. Magic sparks across your arms as pleasure steadily erases your ability to think, but his thick scales keep him safe, a pleased groan leaving his chest as he starts bouncing on you, chasing his own pleasure. You can do nothing but hang on, your hips rising to meet his downward thrust, Price's lips swallowing your moans. You don't have enough sense in your head left to care if anyone was to come in and see you, your mind fully consumed by him.

You cum way too soon, your orgasm sneaking up to you, lightning rushing down your spine and magic sparking across your arms as your brain leaks out of your ears, shooting cum up into his greedy walls.

"Good- good lad." Price grinds his teeth, never stopping his bouncing, lewd sounds ringing through the showers from the way your cum squelches inside him. He rides you past the sting of overstimulation right back to hardness. His hand grabs yours, placing it over the scars on his abdomen where your magic had stitched him back together, greed and lust fueling his desires. "Protected me so good, yeah?" His hips never cease moving, that draconic endurance coming in handy to absolutely wrecking you. "Let me take care of you,"

And like a proper mate, you let him do as he pleases.

#Gnome's Prompt Game #cod mw2 #x reader #gnome correspondence #trinkets from the hoard #male reader #captain john price #top male reader #john price x male reader #john price x reader #cod x male reader #cod smut #cod modern warfare #monster cod au #monster 141 au #mage reader

[n3on-graveston3s-calling]

May I have Crocodile x GN!Reader hcs? Any soft ones? Just any and all silly hcs you may think about. 😊🫶Love your writing, I hope you feel better darling!! Much love to you.

HELLO???

Oh you absolutely CAN have some headcanons. I love Crocodile a little too much, so this is right up my alley. <3 thank you so much!!!!! Ilysm

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Word Count: 381

•Very big fan of having you wear his coat, regardless of how ridiculous it may look given the height difference ( if there is one ). Seeing you in it just scratches something in his brain.

•Protective. Very, very protective- one could argue that it's nearly obsessive with how he holds you close, that hook curved around your waist. Never to harm, never- only to hold. To better shield you with his own form.

( Fits the trope of “I would kill for them.” VERY well. )

•Buys you jewelry. No, no- nothing gaudy, gods no. But those delicate golden chains with a precious gemstone dangling from? Rings with woven bands that are inlaid with precious jewels? Just casually, too. He'll come in to your shared suite at the end of the day with a black box tied with a ribbon. Surprise.

•He enjoys hearing you read out loud. When the two of you are alone and he's going over The ledgers for Rain Dinners? Or, later on, for the Cross Guild? Sitting before his desk while you relax on a chaise lounge, reading your book- or even better, something of importance to him. He could fall asleep to the sound.

( and has. )

•Loves, Loves, LOVES when you cook for him. Claims that nothing will ever taste as good as the food that his amore makes. HOWEVER- when it comes to making certain dishes, he will take over. He's very particular about sauces, you see? If you don't use enough salt…

•Has gifted you a Bananawani.

•Who needs a scary dog when you have Sir Crocodile two steps behind you whenever you go somewhere? Anything you want, you get- regardless of the price.

•…can and will fall asleep with his head on your lap if you brush your fingers through his hair. Sometimes, it's nice to be taken care of.

•He Does Not Smoke In Your Rooms. in his office? Sure. Outside? Of course. But when you are in your bedroom? Not a cigar in sight. ( He doesn't want your clothes to smell like cigar smoke. )

•And a hint of spice-

He truly does love the view from below…

#one piece #sir crocodile #sir crocodile x gn reader #sir crocodile x reader #x reader #one piece x gn reader #kanon's answers #one piece headcanons #cinnbar-bun #kanon's moots #pls anytime i get a chance to ramble about Crocodile I will he's so interesting to me #big spooky man is soft for his partner #what a good trope

[ghouljams]

I love witch darling and Price they have my whole heart (and Liebling and Konig bc I'm a sucker for straight pairings where the woman could say "heel" and the big scary guy would listen)

I just love the idea of visible claims, beyond just the obvious sexy stuff of "marked, now you're mine." Bc the way you wrote it it's more a sign of how long they've been together, how familiar they are, how much they long to have something somewhat tangible as a reminder that they're there for each other. It's an intimacy of knowing one another

Price and Witch being so intertwined that Price meets up with the other Fae boys and is confused at why they're shuffling uncomfortably until he realises he has Witches magic all over him and not only did he not notice bc he's become so used to their presence that it's a comfort but the fact that it's there means they have become so used to his presence they automatically warded him a little bit, not intentionally or through any rituals but their intent of wanting to protect him and keep him safe (and maybe even mark him what? Who said that?) Wrapped around him like a loving embrace. For a couple who's interactions started off measured and contract-like its a real step up to the point that welcoming him is as easy as breathing. (Loving someone like breathing)

Witch goes about their day perfectly happy until they notice something in the corner of their eye and see Prices magic clinging to their doorway, a sign to ward off any unwelcome visitors. And they should be mad at him but... the last time he was here was days ago and if they confront him they have to admit to themselves and him that it took them that long to notice after days of walking past, just accepting it as normal.

Witch wrapping their hair and their thoughts aren't even on Price but somehow their ambient love of him worms it's way into the intentions (I love hair wrapping btw)

Price having a stressful day and when he gets home (does he have a home? He feels a little bit like a bum that just waits to annoy Witch) he feels himself relax. And he's confused bc yeah this is his territory so it's safe but he's never felt the tension leave his body so quickly, until he notices he conveniently sat on the floor, right near his cigar tray, at the perfect height to smell the ashes from one of Witch's cigars.

I'm going to write just little snippets for all of these.

Everything feels warmer after leaving you, lighter, safer. Price lights a cigar while his boys watch him carefully. He raises a brow at them through the fingering smoke. If one of them has something to say they'd be best advised to get it over with. Soap nudges Gaz, who shakes his head quickly and nudges Ghost, who promptly throws Gaz under the bus.

"Gaz wants to say something," Ghost announces.

"You've gotten worse," Gaz tells him with a glare, "Why do I hafta do it?"

"'Cause he won't be mad at you," Soap chimes in. Gaz groans and leans forward, his elbows on the table.

"You're toting around Witch wards," Gaz is flat out with it, Price'll give him that.

"Am I?" It's barely a question in tone, but is he? He hadn't noticed. Now that he thinks about it though, he can still feel where your hands settled on his chest, your lips on his cheek telling him to take care. Your magic wraps around him like a blanket, ambient and comforting. That explains the warmth. Cheeky little thing, he should've known you'd pull something like this. You can't help yourself.

The part that gets him though, is he hadn't noticed. He always notices foreign magic like an allergic reaction. It itches his skin, gives him headaches. Especially witch's magic, he should've felt that immediately. Oil and water, it should have done something to him, caused a reaction of some sort. Yet even his smoke seemed clingier, soft with you.

He tugs at the lingering magic, feels it purr like a particularly clingy kitten. Well, it's not hurting anyone. It can stay.

"You're as bad as Ghost, you know that?" Gaz shakes his head. Ghost glares at him.

"When did I become the fuckin' benchmark?" He asks angrily.

-

It's been sitting quietly at the edge of your magical perception for days before you actually notice it. Passing through your front door you have to stop at the unfamiliar ward. You cast your eyes about as if you could see it, but come up short. Something in the familiarity of it worms its way into your brain and directs you where to look. How silly that you hadn't noticed him put his own protections on you.

You press your hand to the worn wood of your door frame with a smile. You can feel the residual magic Price must have left, how did you miss it? It's so clear and foreign to your own wards, that you should have noticed immediately. Even the edges of your wards have grown around it like one tree absorbing another. Strange that your magic would notice before you did, but you suppose you've grown so used to Price's magic it's become almost second nature to you. You can almost feel his hand under yours, fond, affectionate, warning anything that might pass by.

You take your hand off the door frame to touch your fingers to your lips, kissing them before tapping them against Price's seal. For luck, you think.

-

You're half way through rubbing lotion onto your arms when you notice you're feeling very pink. Not just you, your magic, your being. You check the bottle you're using, it's not any spell you're not used to, weird. You finish up with your body lotion and when the pink feeling doesn't dispel you go to check your shower to make sure you didn't mix any strange ingredients into your usual scrubs. You can't have any strange magic working on you when you see Price tomorrow or you'll have to cancel your date.

Date. You probably shouldn't call it that when you see him daily, but it feels special every time. He kisses you like it's special every time, like he'll never get another chance for it. You press your fingers to your lips with a giddy smile, feel the pink magic bubble happily.

You pick through your products with a witch's unintentional intent. Rose, rosemary, lilac, iris, weaving your little love spell into your skin and bubbling over with your happy thoughts. You'll school your emotions later, for now you're enjoying this. Besides, you don't have any clients scheduled for tomorrow, who cares if your magic is a little messy?

"Y'smell good," Price tells you when you see him, his arms around you as he presses his lips to any skin he can find. You direct his lips back to yours and feel the pink tinge him as his tongue drags against yours. His magic bleeds against yours, pulls as eagerly as his hands do until you're shivering against his chest.

You tip your head back as he kisses your throat, breathes you in with heavy intent. His beard tickles, scratchy but soft in a way that makes you think he takes meticulous care of it. His tongue drags against your pulse, his teeth sharp when they nibble your jaw.

"Y'know you don't need love spells for me, Sweatheart," He whispers in your ear and you feel heat pop over your cheeks, more embarrassed than anything else. Gods, that's what that is, isn't it?

"Date cancelled," You tell him a little breathless with him still kissing your neck. You whack his shoulders with your hands to get him off, "Price I need to wash all this off of me, you are going to make it worse."

"Fine by me," He tells you calmly, making no move to stop. You think he does this on purpose sometimes. Bastard.

-

Price kicks the door shut behind him, barely remembers to turn the lights on before he's collapsed back against his couch. The soft moonlight through the windows is less comforting and more indicative of how over-fucking-worked he is. Gaz has to start coming to court with him, take some of this load before it breaks his fucking back.

He exhales deeply, feels the billow of smoke release from his lungs. Unspent magic. It hooks itself to the walls and ceiling, hanging like kudzu vines, threatening to strangle anything that challenges its path forwards. He breathes in, feels the ash of his morning cigar swirl and spark. Soft and familiar. Yours, he smiles to himself.

You've made a sweet habit of gifting him cigars. Simple tobacco in tobacco, it shouldn't make a spell like this, but you are a wonder. He can smell your hopes while you were making this, the residual magic of your intent. "Remember me" Your ashes whisper to him, "Let me bring you peace, happiness."

It shouldn't surprise him to feel his muscles unwind, dragged down by your gentle magic. He can almost feel your fingers on his jaw tipping his head back onto the arm of the couch, your lips against his forehead imploring him to relax. How could he ever refuse your ministrations.

#I do love the idea of witch wrapping her hair or putting it in curlers #but I also know I have short haired readers #so just some nightly routine stuff #john price x oc #cod x reader #x reader #john price x reader #captain john price #john price #captain price x oc #captain price x reader #captain price cod #captain price #oc: witch #They're so disgusting I wanna gag #Anyway do you wanna take over writing for them because you fucking get it

[angelstate]

Husband!Price x Wife!reader

Captain Price isn’t a good man, he never claimed to be one and barely fills the requirements to be considered a moral being in the most mundane aspect of questioning life scenarios he is put to experience over and over again as he grows consciously older.

He knows just how tarnished he is, how dirty his hands are with blood, and how the closest he’ll ever get to heaven is by your side, and in all honesty, he wasn’t a man who craved a peaceful afterlife, nor did he crave for the existence of the promised afterlife his religious mother talked to him about every night to be true. 

Your existence is the only thing that soothes his aching heart, the only person who makes him feel better and unconsciously worse for being the man he is. Because you hold him so gently, speak so softly, and mutter praises for putting his life on the line, for losing morals so the entirety of the world didn’t lose theirs.

He feels as if it’s rotten work to love him, a tortuous action you keep because of the high morals he was never able to develop or comprehend. He sees you as a Martyr for staying with him when he continuously leaves you, disappearing to fight the evils of the world he knows won’t be eradicated anytime soon. 

Aren’t you the kindest of angels for guarding him everywhere he goes, a photo of you hidden in a small pocket on his hat, the smell of your sweet perfume on his suitcase “so you don’t forget my smell” you explained while saying goodbye to him at the door of your home. Oh, sweet angel, he will never forget you.

He usually doesn’t make promises he can't keep, not wanting to feed false hope to the people he cares for, but when you stare at him with teary doe eyes and a pretty smile on your lips because you refuse to cry in front of him, refuse to that be the last expression he sees on your face if the inevitable thing that is death happens to him in the battlefield and not in your arms, of old age with a peaceful mind, he feels compelled to promise his return, to ease your mind and take away the crushing pressure on his chest.

he would die for his teammates, but he would live for you.

“Try and return to me” you whisper in his ear, kissing him on the cheek before pulling away, you have no idea what he would do to ensure he finds his way into your arms one more time before perishing. “Of course, love” he replies, voice gruff yet holding an endearment he only has for you. 

And he remembers your last conversation with pain because Captain Price isn’t a good man, but Jonathan Price is, your Johny is a good man, one who holds you close to his chest at night despite his aching bones from War and violence, who opens the door for you and buys you flower every Sunday after church.

But tonight the night sky has a dooming dark he has never seen before, and the stars above him as he bleeds out on the soil are too blurry to stargaze the way he does with you back home, there is no grass on the floor to soothe the ache of his sore bones the way the backyard of your home does.

He knows he has never been a religious person, never been one to have a relationship with God, but you do, he knows you pray for him to return safe every day he is away from you, so tonight, knowing he isn’t returning to you, he prays for you. he prays for God to be kind to your soul and guide a new lover your way, one who won’t die thousands of miles away from you, one with a body to bury when death catches up to them. 

He prays for nothing more than for God to allow you to live peacefully the rest of your time while his time reaches an end in a secluded place on earth, looking at your picture for one last time before pressing it close to his heart with the hand that has his wedding band, feeling his skin slowly match the temperature of the cold material, his last heartbeats only known by the picture of you and him, a last secret to share with you.

Husband!Price prays for the afterlife to be real, so he can have a chance of seeing you again someday. 

#call of duty #cod x reader #fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #cod modern warfare #captain john price #john price cod #john price x reader #john price x you #john price x y/n #captain price x y/n #captain price x you #captain price x reader #call of duty x reader #cod men #price cod #husband!price #wife!reader #john price #captain price #angst #cod angst

[vampykween]

vampire!ghost who can’t control himself once he’s got a taste of your blood.

you taste just as sweet as you look and he just can’t help himself. not when your hands fist in his hair in a weak attempt to pry his fangs from your neck. he only stops when he notices the fight has left your body and you lie limply in his arms.

he feels sick, he doesn’t know what comes over him. he loves you so much - swears that despite being a monster that he would never hurt you. he avoided for you for so long for this very reason. unless price is around his mind is a war zone and all he can think about his how you smell, how you would taste, the sight of your lithe body writhing under his. what makes him feel the worst is he knows that once you wake up and see his sullen face, you’ll forgive him. you’re so used to being hurt and brutalized by those who claim to love you that you’ll forgive his display of violence.

even after death, trapped in this hellish eternal life simon riley was destined to be a killer. loving him was a guaranteed death sentence.

#mic drabbles #if you think this is giving tvd vibes shhh no it doesn’t #vampire!ghost x reader #vampire!au #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #mic writes

[sprout-fics]

Tag, You're It: Part Two

(Poly 141 x F! Reader) 18+

Masterlist

Rating: Explicit, 18+ WordCount: 6.3k Tags: F! Reader, Minors DNI, Chase/Takedown, Hunter/Prey, Anal sex, Anal fingering, Dirty talk, Consent checks, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Semi-Public sex, Edging, Orgasm delay, Orgasm Denial, PriceGaz, Phone sex by technicality Warnings: Mild Consensual Non Consent

You manage to avoid Gaz and Price- up until you don’t.

It’s after sunset when you finally pause to take a breather, hidden in the shadows of the empty drill area. Darkness shrouds the shanty buildings and hastily constructed walls, slanting shadows through the distant flood lights that illuminate the rest of the base. 

You had caught some strange looks from some of the recruits earlier in the day, looking a little disheveled from your earlier encounter with Soap and Ghost. You can still feel the mess between your thighs, the drip of Johnny’s spend oozing from your entrance into your panties. You had managed to scrub most of Simon’s cum off your face, enough so it isn’t noticeable by anyone who you pass. Just as long as they don’t look too closely. It makes your skin shiver, a little embarrassed, shamefully turned on that you’re walking around with an ever-present reminder of their claim on you.

Cold air seeps into your lungs as you breathe, doubled over after your short sprint past the guards. The damp mist of it curls away from your lips like smoke, legs trembling a little with exertion. Yet beneath the fatigue there’s still a low, thrilling excitement at this game you’re playing, knowing that for now- you’re winning.

Price and Gaz have yet to find you. You gave them the slip earlier as they stalked you through the outer perimeter of the base, their forms slipping through the trees in search of you. They had been hard to spot, you hadn’t even noticed them sweeping the forest for you. Not a word had been spoken between them as they searched for you, and with your heart racing in your throat you had prayed simultaneously that they would pass you by and discover you hiding.

You’d pressed yourself flat against the dirt, shielded by ferns and through some miracle, they had passed you. That had been hours ago. Now, with darkness fallen, you know there’s no holds barred the closer the clock ticks to midnight, counting down the minutes until the end of this game. 

You hear it then, as you heave an exhale against the side of the hastily constructed buildings, intended for sweeping houses and sniper shoot outs. It’s distant, an unintentional crunch of boots against gravel, and it has your ears attuning to the smallest noise in the distance- a low voice that murmurs into a radio. 

“Roger, Cap.”

Gaz.

Instantly the air in your chest seems to freeze, and you barely stop yourself from sucking in another breath that the sergeant might hear, close as he already is. He sounds like he’s on the opposite side of the building, slowly circling to your position. With every heartbeat he creeps closer, tracing the scent of you through the evening darkness.

For a moment you consider a mad dash to freedom to escape Gaz’s slow but silent pursuit. Yet if your previous instance with Soap and Ghost is anything to go by, you know exactly how that will end. 

Then again, that’s the fun of it all.

A murmur, quieter this time, and you’re unable to make out the words. Yet it’s closer, and your heart hammers louder in your chest in response. You wonder if maybe he’ll hear it, hear your unsteady breathing, might somehow smell the arousal on you that rises with every shaky inhale. 

It’s no good. You’re too exposed where you stand, just on the outside of the building, out in the open as moonlight streams onto your wide eyes, your back plastered to the wall. If Gaz walks by he’ll spot you instantly. You can almost imagine the smirk of self-satisfaction at having found you, eyes twinkling with victory. It makes your eyes narrow, your blood rising with determination. 

You sink, crouch and listen to the subtle shift of him in the near distance. You think you hear Gaz’s footsteps somewhere behind the building, but it’s unclear which direction they’re headed. A gamble then, to make sure you flank him and escape. 

Your movements are slow, like a puma stalking through the undergrowth. You’ve learned your lesson from earlier- more careful where you put your feet, gentle with your breathing, ears attuned to every whisper of sound that comes from Gaz’s direction. As you round the corner of the edifice there’s only silence, and a peek reveals he isn’t there either. So, you stand, slowly, press yourself to the wall and slink along the exterior. 

A crackle of a radio. A huff. 

Gaz blinks abruptly into existence in the path ahead, nothing there until you suck in a breath and he’s just there. His form coiled, ready and before you can even finish processing that damned smirk he launches himself at you. 

You yelp, bolt in the direction you came, but surprise dulls your movements, has your feet skid along the dirt. It takes mere moments for Kyle to seize you by the back of your shirt, spin you off balance and push your front up against the outside of the building. 

“Target captured.” He huffs into his radio, pleased, and there’s a pause and a crackle before an answering huff of laughter greets your ears. Price. 

“Good work sergeant.” The captain praises and oh. That makes sense. No doubt Price is somewhere nearby, watching, observing, reporting your movements as Gaz does the dirty work of stalking you through the training area. You should have known. 

“Hi Cap.” You breathe, torn between annoyance and amusement. You hear Price chuckle on the other end of the radio, and you know that sound. Know the feeling of it rumbling through you with his chest pressed against yours, his weight pushing you down into the mattress. It melds with the scent of Kyle clouding your senses, making your eyes flutter and your gut stir with a silky, slick desire. 

“Made it easy for us, didn’t you love?” Price taunts, and you grunt at that, wiggling in Gaz’s grip with little success.

“Ah ah.” Kyle scolds, tightening his hold on you until a hiss of pain threatens behind your teeth. “You’re not getting away. We’ve been tracking you since we saw you escape the warehouse.”

You pause at that, blinking as you process Gaz’s words. That had been hours ago, you thought you’d shaken them more than once, but now you realize the game they’d been playing the entire time. Getting close enough to drink in your scent and then smiling to each other, letting you escape out from under them, if only to prolong the excitement of the chase just a little longer. 

Toying with their food.

You go lax in your surprise, and Gaz’s hands soften on you as a result. It’s a split-second decision on your part, entirely instinctive as you thrash and somehow shake him off, boots skidding as you bolt.

Gaz yelps with surprise, reaching for you and coming up only with air. You hear Price bark an order at the sergeant, but Gaz is already moving, giving chase. 

You manage to make it around the corner, and not weighed down by the same gear Gaz is wearing you manage to put valuable distance between you both. Yet Gaz is still hot on your heels, huffing a gritted little “Why you little-” somewhere behind you. It makes an almost hysterical laugh bubble up your throat, breathless, choked on a toxic combination of delight and adrenaline.

You weave between the shanty buildings, taking sharp corners and trying desperately to shake him. Yet it seems every time you manage to get just enough of a gap on him, Gaz manages to close the distance, Price chattering in his ear and informing him of your every movement.

It’s the captain’s words, then, that pilfer away the remainder of your luck.

You run around a corner and run straight into Gaz’s chest with a breathless little ‘oof’, reeling backwards a moment too late. Gaz reaches out, catches both your wrists in his fists, hauls you off balance so he can press your back up against a wall, his knee wedged between your thighs. 

“Going somewhere?” He asks cheekily, panting past the delighted, thrilled smile that spreads across his face.

“Trying to.” You answer, equally breathless. Gaz huffs a laugh at your reply, and raises his knee just an inch higher, enough to make you shudder a gasp of sensation as it grinds against the apex of your thighs.

“Atta boy, Gaz.” Price rumbles in Gaz’s radio, and he also sounds pleased, drinking in the easy victory.

You crane your head a little, unintentionally baring the bare flesh of your neck to the sergeant- a mistake. Gaz leans forward abruptly, mouth pressing against the skin there and letting his tongue go flat over the spot he’s seized before he seals his lips over the spot and sucks.

Your knees tremble under you unexpectedly, and you moan at the bite of pain and pleasure as Kyle sucks a dark hickey into your neck. His entire front is flat against yours, bracing you against the rough brick of the wall behind you, allowing you no escape from his onslaught. The wavering, licking flame of need inside you blazes brightly at the sensation, shuddering as the heat pulses low in your core, slick and warm and empty. It only grows when Gaz shifts just enough for him to expertly roll his hips into your own, teasing you with just a moment of dizzying, needed friction.

“Let’s take our captive somewhere…a little more intimate.” Price encourages darkly as Kyle parts from you. You shudder at the tenor of his voice, with Kyle pressed flat against your front, your hands caught in his, his breath fogging against your shoulder. You’re already panting, a little dizzy off a few touches alone and it’s unfair how Gaz can do this to you when he’s this wound up, laying his intentions into your sensitive skin until you puddle into his touch.

“The building to your right, with the window and the desk.” The captain goes on, and Kyle grunts as you hauls you to him, your feet skidding as you attempt to thrash him off. It’s useless, and the thought that maybe you’ll manage to evade them again dims quickly into nothing. 

It doesn’t take long for Gaz to bend you forward over the desk, forcing your hands up above your head so they grip the opposite side. His lips trail the shell of your ear and you shudder, containing a sound of want that bubbles up inside you. 

“Keep them there for me, won’t you, doll?” He breathes, and gods, the lust in his voice is so evident it renders you soft, malleable under him, a quick and painless surrender that forces the air from your chest in a sigh. 

“Good. I can see you.” Price’s voice filters through the radio, and Gaz takes a hand to tilt your head towards the window, to the rise in the distance from which the moon hangs low in the sky. 

“Smile for the captain, pretty girl.” Gaz taunts, and you feel heat rise to your face at the realization Price is going to watch, going to tell his sergeant exactly how to defile you before he drags you to his captain like a prize.

It’s as if Price can read your mind, can see your expression through his scope in the distance, for you hear his voice rumble through the static with a chuckle. 

“That’s right, love. Gaz here is going to warm you up for us, and then bring you in like a proper soldier. Isn’t that right, Garrick?”

“Yes sir.” Gaz breathes, and before you can even make a sound his hand seizes the waistband of your trousers and drags them down over the swell of your ass in one quick movement, baring your bottom to the cold night air. You suck in a bright gasp of air but make no motion to try and stop him as you did with Soap and Ghost- Gaz is gentler, more tender, might mistake your feigned protests for genuine distress. Instead, you levy him a look over your shoulder with heavy, lidded eyes, a wordless temptation in your gaze.

C’mon then, soldier.

Gaz grins.

“Looks like Ghost and Soap had their fun already.” He teases as a finger trails through your cum-slicked folds and you jerk a little at that, automatically trying to squirm away a little in embarrassment. Yet Gaz merely hums at the mess he finds there, finding the smeared drip of Johnny against your hole and pressing it back inside.

“No moving.” Price admonishes when you squirm, press back towards Gaz in a mild attempt to try and get his fingers a little deeper. You try to heed your captain’s warning and stay still but you can’t- not when Kyle’s fingers circle your entrance and find a fresh wave of arousal coating his fingers, his murmur of “Oh, good girl~” makes you whine and squirm, flush with the praise.

You yelp, however, when there’s suddenly a hand landing sharply on your exposed asscheek, fingers gripping the corner of the desk just as Kyle settles his weight behind you, the growing hardness in his crotch bumping against your ass. 

“You heard the captain.” The sergeant reprimands smugly, soothing the area with his palm. “Stay still for us.”

There’s a pause then, over the radio, and you wonder if Price is trying to collect himself at the sight of you splayed forward, out in the open, with his sergeant gently stroking your pink asscheek as he rocks into you from behind. You whimper.

“Color.” Is all Price supplies after a moment, and your answer is ready, face hot, limbs trembling, need coiling sharply in your stomach at the strain in his voice. 

“Green.” You breathe. “Green, fucking green, cap, god- please, I- ah!!”

You gasp loudly when Kyle’s hand lands in the exact same spot, body jolting as the noise trails off into a groan, low and heady, head falling forwards in surrender. 

“That’s no way to talk to your superior officer.” He laughs, and you glance over your shoulder at him accusatorily, only to catch the playful bright glimmer of his eyes.

Price hums over the radio, the sound smoky and gritty in the best of ways and the sound alone has you moan, unable to contain yourself despite the lecherous shame of being so open, so ready for them.

“Where did Soap and Ghost leave their mark?” Price asks smoothly, and once more Gaz’s fingers dip into the mess of your cunt as you struggle to keep yourself upright against the desk.

“Her pussy, sir.” Gaz answers perfunctorily, and for some reason it’s so arousing the way they’re talking over your head so casually, like you aren’t even there.

“Open her up then, sergeant.” Price orders, and you hear how his voice is caught in his throat with a dark, yearning hunger, wanting to sink his teeth into you and take, take whatever you can give him, and then somehow demand more.

“Yes, sir.” Gaz breathes, and he shifts so he can pull something from his vest, a little pop as the thing opens. You remain where you lay, legs trembling a little, breathing uneven and dizzy with desire, eyes blinking hazily as the aphrodisia of them both washes over your senses, muffles them in a spinning, avid want that boils low in your stomach, needing more. It tightens across your hips, sears inside your chest and when Gaz’s hand smoothes over the sting of your ass you hiss at him to just get on with it-

Another smack, this one gentler than the one before but still enough to make your voice rise abruptly, fingers clenching at the edge of the desk. 

“Shh, shh, shhh.” Gaz hushes sweetly, and before you can regain your bearings there’s the cold, wet drip of something against your asshole so sudden it makes you flinch.

“Easy, doll.” He tries again, pressing low and warm over the arch of your spine, craning up so his lips flutter on your nape. “Gonna make you feel good, promise. Just be good for us. Yeah?”

You force yourself to breathe as Gaz’s finger circles your asshole, spreading the slick of the lube salaciously there, not yet pressing in, gentling you to his touch.

“Yeah?” He asks once more, nose buried in your hair as the hot, shuddering breath of him blankets across your nape. It draws you down heavy into omnipresent need, sinks you further into his touch until you’re limp, lost to him. 

“Y-yeah.” You whine back, voice high and reedy as you feel him smile into your skin. 

“Good girl.” 

You feel him press his finger against your hole, and despite the resistance there he manages to wiggle the slicked digit inside, making a moan drop against the metal surface of the desk. It’s a little bit of a stretch at first, but Gaz is gentle as he gently pushes in, pulls out, bit by bit as he gets you used to the intrusion. 

“You need to relax, gorgeous.” He reminds you, a hand reaching over your head to tangle his fingers between yours as an anchor as you force yourself to breathe, relax, legs weakening under you. “There we go, that’s it.”

“Doing well, love.” Price murmurs over the radio, and that sends a flash of something that purrs low and hungry in your core, the praise that your captain gives you, more toxic than any other. Yet then his voice turns wolfish, dragging low across your senses as he adds “Such a good captive for us.”

You brace your head on the desk and whine.

“Oh, I know.” Gaz hushes you, raising off you so his warmth vanishes from your back, his hand settling on your nape instead and keeping you pinned to the desk. “I know it feels good, doll.” As he draws his finger back, squirting more gel between your asscrack so he can gently press a second one beside the first.

“F-fuck, Kyle, please-” You beg, not even sure at this point what you’re asking for. It’s just so much- being out here in the open, bent over for him as his captive, his endless endearments and praise, the lewdness of him fingering open your ass while Price watches-

You moan, loud and long, shameless, not caring if any lingering rookies around the training grounds hear you. It’s met with a sound of delighted disbelief from Kyle, a “That’s it, that’s the way-” as Price’s rumbling, pleased hum crackles through the radio. 

“God, you should hear yourself.” He tells you, his own voice wrecked at the sound of you, at the obscene squelch of him drawing his fingers out, only to push them back in. “Sounds like sin, doesn’t she, Cap?”

Price growls, and the drag of the noise from his chest is only accentuated by the radio’s echo, making you grip the desk and look to the hill where you think he is. 

“Keep your eyes up here, soldier.” He tells you, and you can hear the ravenous hunger in his voice. You wonder if he’s palming himself through his pants, getting himself off to the sight of Gaz fingering you open and smoothing his hands over you like he’s admiring a prized weapon. 

“W-wouldn’t have them anywhere else, sir.” You manage between breaths, and you can imagine his smile tugs at his lips. You wonder if he’s smoking, imbuing himself with the taste of tobacco and the sight of your debauchery.

Then Gaz presses low across your back, his warmth pressing into your spine just as his teeth skim over the shell of your ear. You shudder, try and arch under him prettily, encouraging him to touch you more, to lose the restraint he clamps onto with a soldier’s resolve. There’s a low, pleased tenor vibrating low in his chest, and with his other hand you feel his fingers press at your lips with a small “Open.”

You do, and without prompting your teeth secure on the material of his glove, securing it as he tugs free. It drops onto the desk beside his other one, and soon his thumb presses down on the cushion of your bottom lip, loosing a little shivering exhale as you take it in, begin to twirl your tongue around the digit shamelessly. You can hear his bitten back little groan above you at the sight, your eyes half lidded, mouth parted so your uneven exhales spill onto his open palm. 

“Bloody hell-” You hear Price bite over the radio, voice snappish, strained. It startles a barked little huff of laughter from Gaz above you, pinning you down to the desk with his full weight, preventing you from moving. 

“Like what you see, Cap?” He asks smugly, and Price hums low and dark over the radio like approaching thunder. It’s a warning, a reminder. Kyle may be touching you, may be lighting your skin on fire with smooth little touches and honey sweet praise, but it’s Price who’s making the calls here, watching you be taken apart piece by piece by his trusted sergeant until you have no choice but to surrender completely. 

“Let’s give Price something to really look at.” Gaz whispers in your ear, low and sultry, and you whine as his fingers retreat from your ass. Before you can try to question him his arm snakes under you, hauls you up against his front as he stands. You toss your head back against his shoulder as bare palm snakes under your shirt to grab the hem, pushing it up past your collarbone. You shiver at the chill of the air, feel Kyle roll the swell of your naked breast in his hand, fingers dipping into the supple flesh there. 

“Kyle-” You try, hands reaching up to secure on his forearm, trying to find an anchor as he kicks your legs a little wider apart under you. Gaz nuzzles up against the underside of your jaw, affectionate with dizzying desire, nudging it to the side so he can teeth over your pulse. “Kyle, please-”

“Please?” He asks, just a little mocking as he grinds his erection into your ass so you can feel the full length of him press into your form. “Please what?”

“Fuckin’ hell Kyle-” You manage as he revisits the bruise he’s sucking into your skin. “Just touch me already, fuck-”

“Have to ask the captain for that, doll.” He tuts, rolling his hips into your back with a grace that feels effortless. You teeth your lip, eyes scrunched shut, feeling the drip of lube between your asscheeks, feeling slick pool low between your legs as you clench around nothing. With the absence of Kyle’s fingers, you feel the emptiness inside you intensify, build upwards with a need that has no satisfaction.

“Please Price, please let him fuck me.” You plead, voice cracking with just a hint of desperation that you try to choke back, to no avail. 

“Think she deserves it?” Price asks Kyle, ignoring your little whimpered plea as he doesn’t answer you, fixing his scope on the sergeant instead.

“Dunno.” Gaz pants, rolling a nipple between his wet fingers. “But you’re gonna have to give me something here, cap. Getting a little impatient.”

“At ease, sergeant.” Price replies silkily, and how he appears so in control of himself despite the circumstances is beyond you- a concentrated focus driven from years and years of experience, an unwavering fixation on the mission before him. “Go on then.”

“Thank you sir.” He manages, using one hand to quickly pull at his pants, shoving them down just far enough to free his cock. You hear him fumble with a wrapper for a moment before rolling a condom down over his length. Yet even then he strokes it a few times, up and down against the swell of your back.

“Bleeding Christ, Gaz-” You snap, twisting just a bit to try and look at his half-lidded smirk, eyes cloudy with lust. “Get on with it.”

He only laughs, a little wicked, a little daring in the face of your impatience wearing thinner than his. 

“Since you asked nicely, darling.” He supplies before scooting you forward, helping you lift a leg until your boot plants on the table, spreading yourself as he lines up the head of his cock with your ass. Yet then his voice dips low, a little more serious as he offers “Deep breath.”

You do as instructed, and with a little whine and a press, the flushed head of his cock manages to pop inside the ring of your asshole. He gives you a moment to adjust, kneading gentle circles into your hip as encouragement before pressing a little further, a little deeper, his voice a long, low, muffled groan against your bare shoulder. 

“Y-yeah, that’s it.” He pants, hauling you back against him so he can angle himself just right. You can feel the pulse of him inside you, warm and slick as he presses further into you. “F-fuck I’m not gonna last long with you wrapped around my cock like this.”

“Describe it to me, Kyle.” Price purrs over the radio, and Kyle’s sweaty forehead drops against your nape as you shudder and gasp under him. 

“Tight.” Kyle strains, fingers now digging into the meat of your thigh, fit to bruise. “Hot, tight, f-feels good.”

Yet then he braces his chin over your shoulder, letting his fingers wander to your front and grasp lightly at your neck to hold your head upright. 

“You good?” He asks gently, so different than the mocking, teasing tenor of him just moments ago. No, this is your Kyle. Sweet, indulgent, adoring and focused entirely on you and nothing else. You nod against him, biting back the small amount of discomfort before he achingly rolls his hips into you, a slow, drawn-out motion that allows you to adjust to his length buried inside you. There’s a little whine of something, caught between pain and pleasure that you don’t choke down in time, and before Gaz can react you hear Price’s voice pressing up into your ear, Kyle’s radio close to your face.

“Give her something to distract her.” Price suggests, and wordlessly Kyle’s hand falls to the spread folds of you, his slick thumb rolling, searching as you buck your hips with the slightest amount of pressure that spikes electricity sharp in your veins. 

“There it is.” He huffs smugly as his thumb presses down on your clit and you jerk reflexively at the bright, searing spark of pleasure there, clenching down on him and forcing a cracked little moan to breathe across your nape. He presses a kiss there, tender and sweet, before he begins to grind the pad of his finger in neat little circles, finally giving you the friction you so desperately desire.

It feels good.

Gaz has a certain mastery with his fingers that comes with his adoration of weapons. He caresses you the way he would a prized rifle, traces his fingers along the joint of your thighs, feels the kickback of you as you moan and writhe on his cock. His forefinger presses down featherlight on the trigger and you feel yourself ready to release on his hand. Yet he keeps you at bay, refuses to take the shot. 

Instead, he ruts into the swell of your ass, uses one hand curled around your hip to fuck you forwards into the other, fingers delving between your folds and collecting arousal between the pads. His nose buries against your nape, where he chants an endless litany of yearnings that sets fire to the underside of your skin. The slick, wet, coiling pressure of your desire spills across his hand, drips wet down the inside of your thighs as the hilt of his hips presses deeper every thrust. You open up for him, sweet and gentle, until at last you feel his pelvis lay flat against the curve of your ass. 

You can’t stop making noise, too gone to care about some base patrolman out after dark ensuring no recruits are skulking around the training area. Your voice drops heavy and long from your chest, rising into high little keens with every passing graze of Gaz’s fingers on your clit.

Unexpectedly, Gaz groans loudly into your ear, his hand on your hips clenching down with bruising intensity as his voice asks: “Enjoying yourself, Sir?”

You blink glassy eyes forward, not sure how you didn’t hear it until now, the lewd shlick shlick shlick barely audible over the radio as Price tries to time his thrusts with Gaz. You buck forward into Gaz’s hand at the reminder you’re being watched, that Price is enjoying this just as much as you are, at Kyle burying himself inside you while you rock your hips forward onto his hand in search of release. 

“Affirmative.” Price grunts, and you can hear the gritted arousal in his voice as he strokes himself to the sight of you broken apart on Gaz’s cock. Gaz rolls himself with a sensuous mastery of rhythm, his front plastered to your back with every deep, slow, unyielding thrust into you. Every rock forward has him pressing his fingers down on your clit, drawing you back with every retreat, keeping your orgasm at bay as you grip at him blindly, trying to seek purchase against the unfurling warmth in your core. 

“The sight of you both.” Price growls over the radio, and you can’t even begin to imagine yourself. Bare, legs spread, the glisten of your arousal dripping between your thighs, head thrown back and lip swollen from your teething. Behind you Gaz pants in low, ragged exhales that trickle down your spine, brow scrunched in pleasure and concentration. There’s a thin sheen of sweat that covers you both, has you glowing in the moonlight like nocturnal, wild animals. 

It’s ruinous, Gaz plays you like a fiddle, breathes in your desire like it’s his own. It rises in you like the crest of a wave, but every time you think your climax will break he pulls his fingers away just in time, sending you hurtling back down into nothingness. You whimper your protest, trying to find the breath between words to plead with him.

“Kyle, Kyle please. I just- I’m so close.” You beg, voice cracking high in your throat.

“Not yet.” He grunts into you, and picks up his pace with little warning, chasing his release to match yours. 

“That’s it, Kyle.” Price drawls over the radio. “Get our girl nice and ready for what comes next.”

You buck forward reflexively at the spike of pleasure that thought summons in you, the reminder that after this there’s still more. The day, despite its low hanging darkness, is far from over. The wild chase that began at dawn doesn’t end with sunset. No, it’s only at the midnight hour that you’re finally released, set free into the gentle embrace of their arms. 

Besides, Price hasn’t had his way with you yet.

“P-Price.” You whimper in a plea as Kyle’s fingers retreat again, and the pressure boiling inside you flattens into a low simmer once more. Kyle’s forehead presses into your shoulder, and for a moment he adjusts his grip on you, pausing before he resumes his pace faster, little shallow thrusts that have you choking on every cracked inhale. “Price-”

“Pay attention to your sergeant, love.” He reminds you, but his breathing harsh too, as you can hear the wet slide of his fist over his cock on the radio. 

“I-I can’t.” You try, grinding yourself down on Kyle’s fingers as they touch you once more, for only a few meager moments as your breath rises-

And your climax is taken away again with no end guaranteed. 

“Please.” You sob with a watery gasp, but Gaz is too lost to notice your pleas, his cock dragging with precise little punches of his hips as he groans a shuddering gasp into your back.

“Fuck this was a good idea.” He snaps unexpectedly, and you feel him twitch inside you, a little grunt swallowed as he tries to contain himself. “Can’t wait to have you again after this, doll. Watch everyone else have their way with you-”

His words are interrupted by Price, his own want echoing sharply over the radio with a crackling, forced exhale. 

“The things we have planned for you, darling.” He tells you wickedly, and you force yourself to breathe, mind running wild with imagination of what they’ll do to you, how they’ll fracture you down and down and down until there’s nothing left except wordless gasps of pleasure and the slick feeling of your release onto their waiting hands. 

“Getting close, cap.” Gaz announces quietly, his hand anchoring to your front clenching and releasing, trying to hold himself back until his captain gives the order. 

There’s a few moments of silence that have your breath hitch in your chest, wondering if Price is even listening, if he’s considering or just trying to chase his own release. Then-

“Go on sergeant, fill her up.”

“Yes, Sir.” Kyle enunciates, and gives a series of rapid, brutal thrusts before his hips stutter against you, his cock twitching inside you with his imminent release. You hear Price grunt a feral, broken sound, and it makes the rising pressure of your orgasm flare higher inside you at the thought of his own pleasure spilling across his closed fist at the sight of you both.

“Please please please-” You choke, trying to rock onto his hand, trying to chase your own orgasm with fervent desperation, rendered to nothing more than a blind instinct to find the end of yourself against his touch. 

Gaz presses his hips flush with yours with a loud, groaning sigh as his orgasm at last washes over him. He offers a few final, parting thrusts, gentle rolls of his hips forwards as he presses down on your clit wrong- intentionally staving off your climax. 

“Fuck-” You snarl at him, waspish, trying to close your hips, to press back, forward, something to find your release. “Gaz, Price, fuck. Just let me-”

“No.”

You feel the world shatter around you as Price’s voice cuts through the fog, blinking your hazy eyes open to look to the rise where you think he is, hoping he can see the confusion and devastation on your expression. Before you can protest Gaz is withdrawing his fingers from you completely, gently steadying you as he extracts himself. Whatever words you have next are interrupted with a little whine of discomfort from the motion, but Gaz only shushes you gently,  laying his hand flat against the underside of your thighs as he lowers it back to the ground.

“No-” You try, feeling your pleasure begin to simmer into nothingness, desperation clawing at your throat. You grasp blindly at Gaz for a moment before snaking a hand down to your clit to try and finish what he started.

Gaz’s hand only smacks yours away with a chiding little ‘tsk’ and you sob in dismay, clench your thighs and rock forward against nothing in a frenzied bid for release. 

“Sorry love, captain’s orders.” Gaz tells you, and at least there’s some sympathy there, just not enough to summon back your imminent climax. 

“You asshole-” You bite at him, spinning on your heel to face him. Gaz is ready for it, and he presses you back so your bare ass hits the edge of the table, forcing you to lean back. Your eyes dart down to where he hangs between his hips, his cum collecting in the rubber sealed over him. 

“Well, yours really.” He snarks back, and you frown severely up at him, trying once more to reach down to yourself in protest. Gaz snatches your wrists before you can, grins down at you with a dark mischief you’d forgotten he possessed. 

“Best secure her hands.” Price suggests idly, and you want to snap at him too, at the way his tone is so unbothered by your ruined orgasm. Without another word Gaz reaches down to his belt and produces a set of zip-ties. With practiced alacrity he spins you, forces your hands behind your back and secures them, far away from your pulsing core. A curse bites on your tongue, and you allow it to slip through before you can stop it. Kyle looks bemused at your voice, but it’s Price’s voice that speaks up next.

“That’s no way to speak to your superiors, soldier.”

You pause, muscles going rigid at the displeasure in Price’s voice, the stern, heavy rasp of him over the radio. It’s the same tone he uses when you’ve done something wrong, and it shudders shamefully through you as you realize you’ve made a fatal error in judgment.

You still have to face Price.

“Time to bring in our captive, sergeant.” The captain announces abruptly, suddenly all business again, brushing aside his orgasm from only moments ago. It whiplashes through you, the way he can just turn on his heel like that, have you whimpering for him one moment and then issuing orders the next. 

“Wh-wha-” You try, failing to find the axis on which to balance as Gaz goes about getting you dressed once more, taking off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders, pulling your pants on one leg at a time but stuffing your panties in his pocket with a devilish smile. You shoot him a glare over your shoulder, face warm and skin itching with unsatisfied need and annoyance. His eyes merely twinkle at you, delight and lust dancing clear across his gaze.

“Let’s go, pretty girl.” He tells you darkly, reaching for some strange, soft material in his back pocket and stretching towards you. “I think our captain has some questions for you.”

Darkness covers your sight.

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#captain price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #Gaz x reader #price x reader x gaz #john price x reader #poly 141 x reader #poly 141 #cod mw2 #cod mw22 #x reader #reader insert #fic: tag you're it

[shelyue99]

You see the three musketeers sit around the table here shooting the bull, so while it rolls on I'll see if I can make any sense out of this. The three are Irishmen-one Capt. Nixon, and Lt. Welsh and last of all the Major. Now Capt. Nixon is the biggest drunk I've ever seen, known, or hope to see. He's worth a small fortune, never'll have to work a lick in his life, but absolutely the most reliable man I've ever known. Welsh is as bullheaded as you'd expect an Irishman to be.

—May 16, 1945, Letter to DeEtta

At the present time we're (Nixon and I) ribbing Lt. Welsh about marrying an Irish girl by the name of Kitty Grogan. He hopes to be married inside of four months. We're carefully explaining that some 4F will grab her off before that. If he does manage to get married, we promise to steal the bride for the balance of his leave unless he hires us to protect him from others who may have the same intentions. Price is 1 qt. of scotch for Nixon and 1 qt. of ice cream for myself. He doesn't take us seriously.

—May 30, 1945, Letter to DeEtta

I've mentioned Capt. Nixon I believe, of Nixon, N.J. [W]ell I've got him writing his first letter since last Nov. to his wife. Quite a guy, he's having one hell of a time getting organized and down to work. Claims he hasn't anything to say to her, just to his dog. He has a baby boy that he's never seen, but he won't talk about his son, it's always his dog. Knowing you, why I know you could spend an enjoyable two or three hours talking about how awful he is-if you knew him. However I'll tell you he's idealistic. I've known him three years and lived and slept aside and fought with him for two. This guy loves one thing right at this stage of life: a bottle of spirits or a fight. He's OK in a fight, but Jesus, outside of that he's absolutely the most undependable man you'd ever want to find.

Since we've been overseas he's only run around with one girl. An English girl and she was anything but beautiful. However she was a good listener and companion. In fact I am not too sure but this guy might end up staying over here in England. Ah yes, things are really snafu-and don't ask me what that means.

Now here we have Welsh & Nixon mixing Vodka, rum & vermouth-oh boy it won't be long now.

—June 2, 1945, Letter to DeEtta

(Writing about the job offer at Nixon Nitration Works) “I don't count on a thing until I have it," Dick confessed, "but it sounds good."

—September 2,  1945, Letter to DeEtta

Do you know what this new regimental C.O. has gone and done? Declared me essential. Why? Well you know all those nice things one can say at a time like that. Me, with 100 points as of V-E Day, and about the only officer in the regiment who has enough points to get out, and who doesn't want any part of the army, stuck until the division goes home. Which won't be this year. Boy, do you smell smoke? Don't worry, it's just me.

Capt. Nixon left this week, which makes everything just dandy. I am about as lonesome as a lovesick swab who married a Wave on an eight hour pass.

—September 16, 1945, Letter to DeEtta

From “Hang Tough: The WWII Letters and Artifacts of Major Dick Winters”

#band of brothers #dick winters #lewis nixon #winnix #sassy Dick

[villainshoe]

cw: childhood to lovers, penis in vagina, brat taming, spanking, praise (good girl, princess, love), knot, heat, creampie, multiple orgasm, overstimulation, age up collage!bakugou katsuki, pining, afab!reader, edging, no proofread, marking, omegaverse

Summary: y/n was on a horrible date and she happen to entered her heat and she called the one person she would trust with this.

author note: this was commissioned by a friend in a sever. If you want one please dm me and we can discuss prices! Read more under the cut

Katsuki didn’t know what to do when he got a frantic call from his best friend y/n about needing an escape from a bad date. He hated it when she went on dates considering he’s been trying to court her everyday since 8th grade of middle school and it’s now senior year of collage. He could hear panic in her voice, so he quickly jumped up and got pants and a hoodie on, grabbing his keys. “Hey, stay where you are at and I’ll come get you.” He said to her as he heard her whimper out okay.

By the time he was dressed he was halfway out the door. He got into his car and drove to the place she was at. Of course it was a locally run restaurant. He got out and walked into the restaurant but was smack hard in the face with the stench of an omega in heat, he paled at the thought of it being her. He rushes towards the bathroom, he knocks on the door quickly, wanting to know if she was alright. “Come in ‘Suki.” He heard the scared timid voice of his childhood best friend’s sister. He walked in and smelt her even more clearly now, it was making his alpha wanna claim her, to mate her. He shook his head and pulled her up from her sitting position with her knees pulled up to her chest and had her head buried in them.

“‘Suki! What are you doing, you don’t need to manhandle me!” y/n said and let him pull her up anyway knowing she had asked for his help. What she didn’t expect was to be scented by him rubbing himself against her cheek and both arms. “I’m not manhandling you.” He said and put his jacket on her to keep more of his scent on her.

“I’m making sure no one will touch you. As your friend it’s my job to protect you.” He simply said and his alpha was purring at the thought of her being covered in his scent. But that disappeared when y/n shrugged off the jacket he had put on her, causing him to growled but took the jacket back and sighs softly. “I don’t need to be scented to be safe with you here ‘Suki.” She said, causing him to pin her against the wall outside of the bathroom. “You’ll listen to me closely, I do because you’re in heat so you know you’re not safe without scent patches or representations.” He snapped at her.

Y/n shrinks slightly and bites her lip to not give in to her omega who wants to please him, but she was stubborn so she bared her teeth at him which made him growled and stare down at her when she didn’t back down. So putting his jacket back on, he threw her over his shoulders, thankful she was wearing skinny jeans. He walked out to his car and placed her in the front seat, he buckled her in but not before she bit his hand, growling and hissing at him.

“I don’t need a babysitter!” She snapped at him once more, he growled and got into the driver side and drove off. He bites his tongue to make sure he didn’t stop somewhere random and fuck her stupid right there and then. “Obviously you do, you called me to pick you up to save you from creep! I told you he was just wanting a omega to fuck and you were that omega.” Bakugou said and pulled into the dorm garage. He got out and picked her up bridal style, carrying her to her bedroom all the while trying not to mate her. He wants to do this right, court her with gifts, scent blankets and hoodies and flowers. All that to have her as his mate, but smelling her in heat was kicking up his rut earlier then it supposed to be.

He drops her on the bed and prepares to go get her food when she grabs him, he looks down at her with a curious lift of his brow. “Please, stay.” She said the words that were in his head every time he had to go get her. “I can’t deal with fuck up thing alone Katsuki.” She said and he growled, turning around and forced her to look at him. “First thing first, it’s alpha if I’m going to help.” He hissed out as she began to rub at his crotch, he swatted her hand away, smirking to himself. “You’re not allowed to touch, if you do you’ll get ten spankings, and you should do as you’re told.” He said, causing her to whine but nodded her head. “Good omega, now, take off your clothes slut, let me see your beautiful body.” He commanded which she automatically listened to as she undressed herself, showing off her curves and the one thing he wanted to taste right now, her beautiful pussy.

“Be a good girl and spread your legs widely.” He said but y/n smirked and closed her legs, not letting him see her cute little pussy. He growled and kneel on the bed. “Open your legs… now.” Bakugou growled out causing her to whimper and kept her legs close to see what he’ll do. But the gasped let out from her pretty red stain lipstick caused him to smirk when he had her bind over his leg. “Now count to ten then I’ll reward you.” With every strike against her ass, she counted each one but tears were beginning together in her eyes as the strikes got harder, leaving both cheeks red and sore. “Ten!” She cried out as he struck her left cheek once more.

He let her get back on the bed, but spread her legs this time. He looked at how it glistened in the moonlight, he laid down on his stomach so he could have a closer look at her quivering hole. He leaned in and ran his tongue up from her hole to her clit, moaning at the taste, he attached his lips to her clit, sucking on it before circling two fingers around her entrance. He moved away when he heard her cry out for more. “Patient, I’ll give you more.” He replied as he attached his mouth back on her, sucking and nipping at her clit, letting his two fingers enter her and began to pump them in and out. He could feel her walls clenched around his fingers making him harder so he began to grind against the mattress, her hand in his hair as she tried to stay in the present of our bliss.

“Alpha! More please?” She cries out as he sped up his fingers, hitting the perfect spongy spot in her causing her to see stars, her walls squeezing his fingers tighter, he pulled his fingers away as she cried out in disappointment but gasped in delight as he cover her pussy with his mouth and using his tongue to prod to at her entrance before he slip it in, a finger on her clit rubbing in time with his tongue thrusting in her leaking hole. “Alpha I’m going to cum!” She cries out and he sped up his rubbing at her clit, licking at her entrance once she started to come undone on his tongue and fingers.

After a few minutes he pulled away noticing she was becoming overstimulated, he got off of the bed and got undressed his cock slapped his lower abdomen. “Now since you’ve been a good girl, I’ll give you a reward.” He said with a soft smile as he placed her legs over his shoulders and lined himself up with her. “Are you ready?” He asked, making y/n nod her head. “Yes, Alpha, I’m ready.” That’s all he needed to hear as he slid in until he bottomed out, grunting how tight she was. “Fuck, so tight for me princess.” He growled out, pulling out until the tip of his head was in. Before she could whine, he slams back in, grunting as he does so. “Fuck, alpha, feels so good.” She whines and he begins a slow but steady pace, gripping her hips tightly.

“Fuck so good love.” He praised as he kept thrusting in and out of her, rubbing at her clit, feeling her walls trying to suck him in deeper he folded her in half and began to pound into her. “Alpha! I’m gonna cum!” She cried out again before he stopped ripping her out of another orgasm. “Why? I was good! I was really good!” She felt tears in her eyelashes. “You’re not allowed to cum until I say so.” He said and thrust into her again, but a very slow pace was set, the thumb on her clit rubbing slow figure eights on it. He could feel her walls sucking him back in and he could get used to it. He quickly bends to her neck and bites harshly on her scent gland, marking her his forever, his omega no matter what.

He sucks on the bite as he feels her walls quiver around him, her scent turning into the smell of them both, turning him on more than he thought it would, knowing this he wasn’t going to last long, so he begin to thrusts sloppily and rub her clit in sloppy fashion, cause her to cry out loudly. He growled and bites on her shoulder harshly to stop his, as he did so he could feel her tighten up. “I’m gonna cum!” She screamed out and with one last thrust he felt her come undone alongside of him, his knot swell inside of her. Connect them together for at least an hour until the swelling goes down. “I love you Alpha.” y/n said, causing Bakugou to smile the rare smile reserved just for her. “I love you too omega.” He said as they both fell asleep for a nap.

#bnha bakugou #bakugou x you #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou x y/n #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki fluff #bakugou katsuki angst #tw: omegaverse #bakugou katsuki smut #💥.bakugou katsuki fic