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blueparadis · 10 months

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LEMONADE + SHIU KONG // f!reader ( she's a sniper), smoking, mention of murder and violence, implicit smut, semi-public ( happens in a car ), little tension between them, rivals to fvck buddies dynamics, he is such a tease here. 1.3 (w.c)

special thanks to @poohbea for beta-reading. without her, i really wouldn't have posted this. i had something in mind and this is entirely different. so i said better luck next time to myself and found the courage to post this. | back to nav. | also tagging @yuujispinkhair

“You’re not nearly as inconspicuous as you believe yourself to be.” Kong mutters off-handedly under his breath, reaching for the latch of your belt. His minty tobacco-laced breath paired with that familiar musky cologne threatens to send your nerves into a frenzy. He’s too close for someone who claims to ‘just wanted to undo your seatbelt’. He had no reason to but he did it anyway, probably because you were asking too many questions. He could have easily pressed one of those buttons on the driver’s side door, the one that unlocks all seat belts at once. The car is fancy enough to have those kinds of luxury features anyway, but you can’t help the racing of your heart when his fingers brush your skin. It’s only when he sits back in his own seat do you register his remark. Did he just scold you? The possibility alone has you licking your bottom lip nervously.

It’s not as though he never has, but given your history with him, he rarely comments on your professionalism. He has been your handler for almost a year now and has yet to actually correct or complain about the way you do your job. He’s proud of your skills, he has to be, otherwise, he wouldn’t be hiring you for every sniper-kill case he gets.

“I heard you were back in town,” he starts, tapping on his cigarette packet before taking one between his lips. “But I couldn't contact you until I got the green light. That, and I’ve been too damn busy with the bounty offers that keep coming up.” He digs into his breast pocket to fish out a lighter, the flame flicking to life as his thumb rolls over the spark wheel. You look at him visibly confused, something he acknowledges with an amused huff. “Were you really so busy that you couldn't read the briefing I sent you?” He is definitely scolding you, but for what exactly? Trying to stay neutral in the face of his crude teasing, you let out a small breath, choosing to keep his gaze despite the nagging need to look away. He’s changed a bit. There’s worry in his eyes, more than usual, eyebrows creased as he continues. “Ah! I can't let you slip up now — ”

“Why am I here?” You interject with a frown.

“What?” He has the audacity to look at you surprised, as if he wasn’t the one to call you here again.

“This is the third time this month you’ve had me meet you… and in case you haven’t noticed, I have a bit of a busy schedule.” Kong lets you speak for longer than ten seconds for the first time in a very long time, his bad habit of interrupting taking the backseat for once. When he doesn’t answer you, you click your tongue, irritation evident in the furrow of your brow. “Why am I here, Kong-san—?”

“Shiu.” He corrects. Guess you spoke too soon. “And you still didn't answer my question. Did you or did you not—”

“I did.” You respond sourly. “And it told me a whole lot of nothing. Which is why I'll ask you again. Why am I here, Shiu?” Despite your irritation, the glaring fact of his contributions to your career as a sniper sits heavy on your shoulders as you sit in weighted silence. He knows it too, and never fails to bring it up every time you try to walk away, try to tell him you don’t need his help. He’s pushed you farther than anyone else ever has. Certainly, you owe it to him, but his ego is already big enough without the offer of such a confession, and you would rather put a bullet in your skull than admit that.

The air inside the car grows thick with smoke as he takes drag after drag of his cigarette, not that you minded, you’re a smoker yourself, but just to spite him you opened the window by your side. “Isn’t it obvious?” Kong soon discards the butt out of his own window, studying you all the while, observing the mix of question and frustration that creases your forehead as your frown deepens. His lips tug up in one corner ever so slightly, too slight for anyone else to spot, but being around him as often as you have, you knew it was coming. “I’ve missed you.”

You blink. Once. Twice. Thrice. What a horrible man… he’s toying with you.

“Hilarious,” you mutter, offering him a sarcastic chuckle. He doesn’t waver, doesn’t look away, that small smile growing at your skepticism. The realization has your heart beating in your ears, and suddenly finding it difficult to keep his gaze.

“Want me to prove it to you?” He dips his head slightly, the leather of his seat squeaking in protest as he leans closer.

“No.” Your reply was instantaneous but you do not move, his hand reaching to play with the necklace resting against your collarbone, the very someone he gifted you after your first successful case. “Aren't we supposed to be doing a job here?”

“You tell me. Haven't you read the briefing?” Again with the same question. He is far too calm in this situation, fingers caressing the hammering pulse that lies just below the surface of your skin. “You weren’t lying to me were you—?”

“This is going nowhere.” You huff, finally breaking the intense staring contest he had trapped you in, finding the courage to withdraw from his touch momentarily.

“It could if…” he guides you back to him, grasping your chin between his thumb and forefinger, gaze dipping to your lips. “If you wanted.”

You bite your lip lowering your head to hide your merriment. “Like the last time?” You ask with a knowing smile. If you wanted. Yeah. Sure. As if he didn’t. Because during the ‘last time’ in question, things were entirely different. You two weren’t out for a job. In fact, you were in a situation similar to this one, in his car, engaging in your usual back and forth. It’s unclear exactly what came over you that day, but those sly eyes and that cocky smile had you seeing your handler as less of a mentor and more of the man he was. The conversation devolved into his lips against yours, his hands against your hips as he encouraged you from your seat onto his lap. Thunder rumbled the heavens and rain battered against the windshield, the perfect mask for inevitable heavy breaths and throaty moans. Your skin tingled beneath his touch, his lips, his teeth, the press of his thigh between your legs that had electricity crackling up the base of your spine. His name fogged the windows, each syllable working its way through the tresses of your mind till that was all you could utter, all that truly mattered. He reveled in that, in the way you gave yourself to him almost entirely. How your body grew hot with every caress, every thrust, every kiss. What did you even call this feeling? Neither of you knew, but it was clear that either didn’t want it to stop. By the end of it, his presence spanned your body, inside and out.

Shiu laughs at your subtle accusation. It has the kind of warmth that reminds you of cozy mornings during winter. There is a pregnant pause after he says. “Yeah.” Bobbing his head in a ‘yes’. You shake your head slowly, an amused breath leaving your nose as your nerves buzz with memories past.

You sigh, assessing him with narrowed eyes, trying to figure out what exactly he’s hiding beneath that elaborately organized talk of his. But the man is a vault, hiding behind dark eyes that threaten to reel you in again. It has you playing with your tongue, curling it against the insides of your mouth before smacking your lips. “Was there really any job for me to begin with?” You retort.

Shiu Kong smiles, his carefully crafted demeanor crumbling in the face of the woman he’s slowly beginning to fall for. “There wasn’t.” He says bashfully.

—

@angelshub @public-safety-network @underratedcharactercorner

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canthelpit0 · 1 month

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Enemies (With Benefits) PT3

Pairing: Cold!Chris x Reader

Word count: 3.9k +

Summary: Chris and reader have always been enemies ever since they’ve known each other. neither knew why they had this burning feeling in their gut. So one day they decide to fuck it out. Until, eventually doing it regularly

Warnings: language, smut, mentions of weed, (implied) RichKid!Reader, jealous!Chris, pet names (cherry), choking, humiliation, heavy degradation, sub!Chris, dom!Reader, I think that’s all.

(A/N: I got this idea from this request. Tysm for the idea & inspiration. Hope this is good.)

PT1 PT2 PT3 PT4 FINAL

I haven’t talked to Chris ever since that party.

wich wouldn’t be too shocking, since we hate each other. but I’ve been ignoring him fully. I wasn’t even responding to his mocking or arguing with him.. just…

The entire situation of us, two people who hate each other so much, and have for so long, hooking up, is extremely toxic.

And I’m self aware, I know that.

It just never bothered me before... But he was treating me like shit. And I’m done with it.

It’s been a week now, and I don’t think he cares that much honestly. At first he went on like normal making witty remarks trying to start arguments and disagreements, but since I didn’t respond he started to do it less and less.

It feels so refreshing not to have a headache everyday.

Only con is, that we share most classes. So i have to see his face all the time. Tho I just ignore him.

At first I saw him walking a round with charlotte, and honestly I don’t know why she is still talking to him after almost hooking up.

I don’t know what he was trying to achieve with that. But if the point was to make me jealous he is so bad at it.

I’ve been talking to Ethan a lot though.

And like I thought, he’s a nice guy, and he always shares his weed.

Even though I have enough friends, most of them are ‘lunchbox friends’. Well except for Matt and Nick, but I can’t really talk to them often considering I’m trying to avoid their brother.

I feel like most of my friends are fake. Wich they are.

We’ll talk and have fun in school, but if I walk past them at the mall they will act like they’ve never seen me in their entire life.

Ethan though. Ethan is nice. His skater friends not so much. Well I guess they’re just critical. After all I’m not any type of alternative at all, and I frankly, don’t know how to skate.

But at least they respect me. Probably because I’m wealthy but ih well.

Ethan and I haven’t done anything.

Other than kiss.

I walk out of history class, a class I share with Ethan. We walk down the hallway side to side.

When we get to my locker- wich is only two away from Chris’ -I unlock it to put my books in it.

All this time Ethan had been complaining about how his next class would be math and whatnot. I had noticed that Ethan was skipping less and less classes now. I never realized how many classes we shared because he was always skipping. But now he wasn’t. And the lack of tobacco in his system was making him itchy and I could tell.

Once you got to know him he actually got quite talkative.

I look over my shoulder to look at Ethan but see Chris in the corner of my eye.

Chris…

Chris.

Without thinking I grab the collar of Ethan’s sweatshirt roughly crashing my lips onto his.

Ethan, having not expected it, doesn’t do anything for a moment, before he kisses back.

Pushing me against the lockers behind me roughly. His tongue finds its way into my mouth as we start to make out.

In the middle of the hall.

My arms wrap around his neck holding him close.

He was kissing me like i was the only source of oxygen. And it felt good. I could tell he liked kissing me, and he wasn’t bad at it.

“Gonna suck face in the hallways now too?”

I pull away slightly. My breath was coming out in short and harsh pants.

I ignore the voice. Chris’ voice.

…Chris

Instead I stare back into Ethan’s eyes. I try to focus on the way his hands feel on my waist as he holds me against the lockers.

His grip isn’t too tight, but it was firm. His forehead pressed against mine as I stare back into his dark eyes.

“Disgusting.”

I look over at him at the disgusted tone. I scoff. My eyes lock onto Chris’ and it feels like electricity shoots up my spine.

Ethan looks a lot like Chris, but he doesn’t have the blue eyes.

The blue eyes that I-

I pause all the thoughts leaving my brain as I hear Chris let out an irritated huff.

And suddenly the feeling of Ethan’s hands on my clothed skin feels too hot. Even tho he unironically resembles Chris a lot, he isn’t Chris.

And god when did my standard become: Chris.

I tare my eyes away from Chris’ gaze. My eyes locking back onto Ethan’s dark eyes.

While Chris’ seem cold and icy, Ethan’s are warm and welcoming. But I don’t want to be welcome and the warmth seems too hot.

It feels like going out in a hoodie on the hottest summer day.

-suffocating

“Fuck off Chris. You’re not any better”

I say to Chris, while staring back at Ethan. But before I can hear Chris reply the bell rings.

I let out a breath. Out of the corner of my eyes I see Chris slam his locker harshly and leave. And once he does I leave a peck on Ethan’s lips.

I slide out of his grip chuckling.

“Imma go now pretty boy, I’ll see you later” I smile at Ethan.

I quickly take out my stuff for my English class and speed walk past him.

★ ★

I’m late to my class but I can’t help but not care.

I share this class with none of them.

Not Ethan, not Chris, not charlotte.

Wich was a relief. Because I don’t know what that was. Ethan has never done anything to make me feel uncomfortable.

Chris had.

So why am I comparing them.

Why do I feel like the lack of just simple bickering with Chris is giving me withdrawal? Why does his glare burn through my soul? Why does it feel wrong being near Ethan when Chris was there? And why the tell did it feel like Ethan’s touch burned?

Why did I want Ethan to be Chris?

Well no let me rephrase that.

Why did I want Chris to be nice to me.

He’s always been rude and mean. I knew what I was getting into. And I liked it, and it felt great. So why am I missing the attitude.

Am I that much of an attention whore?

My eyes trail around the room. I take in the whiteboard none of the words written on it register in my head. I look over the students, mostly only seeing the back of their heads, since I sat all the way in the back

I’ve never felt so loved, alone and hated at the same time.

I know Ethen likes me, and it feels like I’m using him for escapism. To distract myself. I’m leading him on..

I feel so alone. Literally the only people I would usually tell, are the brothers of the problem.

And I’ve felt hatred so intense from Chris. And I know he hates me, and I know that’ll never change

★ ★

He days seem to pass so fast, yet so slow. And at this point I don’t know what I’m doing.

I stick to Ethan. Sometimes I’ll make out with him other times I’ll just stay close to him. Especially when Chris is around.

And I can see that he is getting more and more pissed off.

I’ve been wearing more revealing clothes. Atleast as revealing as it can get with the dress code and all. Mocking the fact that Chris can’t do anything about it.

I was hanging out at home. Alone since my siblings were once again at a sleepover. It wasn’t like they were always at one. And I feel like they’re too young to party and I trust them.

I trust that they aren’t lying to me.

Anyway, since they’re only one year apart they share some friends. So they both went to a sleepover birthday party from one of them.

I’m sitting on the couch, for once enjoying the pice and quiet. I have a movie playing, but I’m drowning more in my own thoughts than watching the movie.

I pause when I suddenly hear the doorbell ring.

I think that maybe it could be my siblings? No neither can drive yet.

Maybe it’s a package. Did I order something? But no it’s midnight they wouldn’t still be delivering orders at midnight..

I get up anyway trading over to the door.

I mean if it’s a killer and I go out this way…. Oh well.

My eyes meet Chris’ as soon as I open the door.

I go to slam the door in his face, but he catches it roughly throwing it open.

“Cherry, please” he huffs. He walks in his sharp eyes trained on me. Chris closes the front door behind him.

“Chris get out” I sigh. I purse my lips glaring right back at him.

If he stays i don’t know for how much longer I can control myself. I feel like I’m having withdrawal symptoms. I miss the way he hates me.

“Cherry, listen” he snaps slightly. I raise an eye cockily. I shift on my feet and cross my arms. My glare doesn’t let up.

But Chris is looking at me different. He doesn’t glare, he looks at me with… desperation?

“What?” I snap back harshly.

“Cherry, please? Literally give me anything?”

Oh, so he is as desperate as he looks.

“Give you what?” I play dumb. My arms stay crossed. I keep looking back at him, his pathetic state only serving to piss me off more.

He can’t even drive, how the fuck did he get here. Nobody knows were fucking so he probably didn’t ask Matt. But Ubers are expensive at this time.

“You know what I mean. Cherry, I’ll literally get on my knees right now and beg.” He says that slightly jokingly. He doesn’t actually think he’ll have to go that far, but if he needs to he will.

“So, get on your knees than, Chris” I mock back, thinking that he wouldn’t actually do it.

But before I can blink he’s going down on his knees right in front of me.

I raise my eyebrow staring down at him.

He dramatically puts his hands together making a begging motion. “Please, please, please cherry??”

I look down at him. He looks so cute when his eyes don’t look like they want to bore through me.

He actually looks desperate and needy right now.

I know I said I wouldn’t hook up with him, and I’ve been doing good at ignoring him for almost a whole month. But god he looks so cute, so… god

I thread my fingers through his messy long hair. His wavy brown hair. And I suddenly pull him up. He winces at the harsh treatment, but he lowkey deserves it for being an ass.

I hate how he stands just a little bit taller next to me.

I crash my lips on his and it feels like fire works go off. I’ve kissed Ethan so many times these past few weeks but it never felt this good.

My arms wrap around his neck. My fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck. Chris’ hands instinctively go to my waist. He holds me flush against him and I feel so comfortable under his touch.

I pull off of the kiss scoffing. My hand wraps around his neck harshly. I pull him down to my eye level while slightly choking him, and he just lets me.

“Hm? Did you not get your dick sucked by someone else?” I mock him, my tone is harsh and condescending.

“Did she not do it as good as I did?”

“Don’t flatter yourself” he grumbles under his breath. He has the audacity to roll his eyes at me.

My grip on his neck tightens and he lets out a sharp breath, one that almost sounds like a moan.

“And yet you still came to my house, got on your knees and begged for me?”

He falls silent at the harsh words. He purses his lip staring back at me with what looks like shame in his eyes.

I move him harshly, changing the place where we stand so I’m close to the door. I harshly squeeze his neck before letting go.

“Go to the living room, I’ll be right there” I nod to the living room behind him. Chris eagerly nods before going to the living room.

I sprint up the stairs and with in a minute I’m back again.

“You’re so fucking pathetic you know that?” I glare at him while towering over his sitting figure.

I go to slowly straddle his lap. His back is pressed against the back of the couch. He looks up at me with ever so pleading eyes. Looking at me like he was desperate, wich he was.

“Such a pathetic bitch. Going to your enemies house and begging to be fucked” I say harshly. My grip goes back to his neck as I choke him slightly. Not enough to actually choke him, but enough to make him lightheaded.

“Sorry, sorry” he closes his eyes for a moment before opening them again.

His eyes meet mine and he looks purely submissive now. It’s funny to me how he is so needy. Maybe I need to ignore him and make him submissive more often, because I like this sight.

I pull him closer by his neck kissing him again. His hands ghost over my sides not daring to actually touch.

I pull away abruptly, listening to his whine.

“Undress.” I says simply standing in front of him.

While I watch him undress I turn off the TV fully. The movie had been paused, but I hadn’t paid attention to it anyway.

He does as I say. He slips off all of his clothing. He’s left fully nude in front of me for me to look at.

He squirms under my harsh gaze. But he is turned on. It’s obvious by his rock hard dick. It’s already red and swollen, leaking pre cum, looking for some release.

I pull out the vibrator from my pj pants pockets. I had gotten it from upstairs. Chris never let me use it on him, unless he was being really submissive.

And since he was, I might as well have fun.

I press it to his tip gently, not turning it on anything yet. I look back at him. I capture his mouth in a kiss. And then turn the vibrator on. He actually flinches at the sudden stimulation.

The kiss is messy, mainly because Chris can’t focus. But The vibrator is literally on the lowest level.

I pull away from the kiss listening to Chris whines and moans. He keeps his hands at his sides. He knows better than to try to get it away. But he looks like he’s itching to just push it away, overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure.

“You look so stupid right now” I chuckle.

I put the vibrator on the secound lowest level. But that alone is high enough for Chris to physically hold himself back from flinching. His moans and whines turn into breathless whimpers.

“Answer.” I scoff. And before I knew it I slap him across the face harshly. The clap echos through the room.

I was letting my pent up enger out, but Chris was enjoying it. As soon as I slap him, his mouth falls open in a silent moan.

Chris didn’t seem like the type. But he had a raging degradation kink.

The sting of the slap traveled right to his dick. His length was twitching in my hand. He was sinking further and further into the couch. He was enjoying this.

“I know-“ he breathes out. But I cut him off by turning the vibrator on higher.

His body practically jolts forward in pleasure. He tries not to come right then and there.

His hand grabs my wrist, the one that was holding the vibrator. “I’m close-“

“I don’t care Chris. If you come now you’ll have to go through the rest overstimulated.” I shrug. Then I abruptly turn the vibrator to its highest setting

He tries to curl his body in on himself but I push him back. And within seconds hes coming all over himself.

I keep the vibrator situated on his tip. I watch how he stays rock hard. His dick starts twitching as his whines get louder and needier.

He weekly pushes my hand off. But after A moment I take it off fully.

While he heaves for breath, I start to undress. I straddle him. When he feels me sink down on his tip his hands go to my waist out of instinct.

I sigh at the feeling. We haven’t fucked in what feels like ages. The stretch hurts. But still I purposefully clench around him to make it even tighter.

His eyes are clenched shut. He’s a moaning mess.

“Chris open your fucking eyes” I slap him again. His eyes flutter open.

“You look so cute all submissive” I taunt. I’m only half way down and I’m struggling. But he doesn’t need to know.

Before he can whine in answer I ram myself down. I wince at the feeling. But Chris’ moans are louder.

I start to gently bounce on him. But he is growing overstimulated quick.

I keep on doing that, my glare focused on Chris. Chris’ eyes shut tightly for a moment. He breaths harshly.

His eye meet mine again. He looks purely submissive. His head tilted down slightly, mouth slightly agape.

“Handsome boy, all needy to get fucked like this hm?” I wait for him to answer but he just whines and moans in response to my movements.

“Can you talk baby?” I ask, huffing. I grab his face, slightly squishing his cheek together with one hand. “Hm? You like getting fucked like this?”

He gasps when I speed up the pace. He blinks a few times, halfheartedly throwing back his head.

Another slap echos through the living room. His head is turned to the side his eyes wide. His mouth is agape as he tries to hold it together. “I told you to fucking talk Chris”

One of his hands goes to his cheek. He grits his teeth trying to formulate words.

But before he can, my hand goes to his neck gently squeezing as I start to ride him harder.

“So good- fuck-“ he breaths out harshly.

His eyes are half lidded. The rough treatment only serves to turn him on even more.

“Yeah, you like that?” I scoff. My hand snakes from his throat to his neck. I pull him in for a sloppy kiss. He can barely focus on anything, every sense in him overwhelmed.

I pull away from the kiss. My hands both move to his shoulders, To use as leverage to ride him harder.

Chris throws back his head, his eyes shutting. He only gets increasingly louder. My movements get harsher and more relentless.

I take one of his hands from my waits and position it at my clit. “Rub it” I demand. And as soon as I do he starts to rub it vigorously.

I clench around him, feeling my release wash over me. Chris’ hand on my hip gets harsher and harsher. I keep moving though, until I feel him twitch.

I quickly pull off an hover over him.

I sit down on his thighs, then start to jerk him off harshly. I put the vibrator back to his tip and turn it on.

Chris’ body harshly jerks forward. I put a hand on his chest and push him back.

And within a few seconds Chris is coming all over himself again.

We both pant as I stare at him. I keep sitting on his thighs as I watch him for a moment.

I lean down and leave a peck on his forehead. I pull him into me. My arms wrap around his neck, putting his face into the crook of my neck.

I pull away from him and slowly get up off of him. I pull on my panties, and pj pants again. As well as my top. Quickly getting dressed again.

I really don’t want to, but he needs to go. As much as I missed him, I made it a point to not hook up with him.

And now that I have, I might as well treat him like he treats me.

“You have to leave.”

He pause looking at me questioningly, It’s like he hadn’t expected me to tell him that. Like he expected us to just hang out and cuddle or something.

Which is not going to happen.

“What?” He questions, his tone sounding blunt, almost harsh.

“Christopher, I want you to leave” I say more sternly. I overpronounce every word to make sure his stupid brain understands it.

“Why” he scoffs frustrated. He stares at me like I’m crazy. Like I’m crazy for telling him to leave when leaving is literally all he ever does.

“Christoper.” I grit out my tone more harsh and serious.

I can’t help the loud scoff that I let out. I walk to the nearest bathroom. I grab a towel halfheartedly dampening it.

I walk back to the living room, where Chris sits mildly stunned. I throw the damp towel on him watching as he awkwardly cleans himself.

“What’s up with you” he sasses me. His gaze is judging.

“I hate you, Chris. I always will.” My words are harsh. And the more I talk the more I can see him narrow his eyes at me in anger, growing more upset by the second.

“Just because we fuck, doesn’t mean I like you. You’re a shitty person.” I take in a deep breath. I feel like I could say worse than that.

“I hate you, and you should leave.” I purse my lips. I watch his expression shift. His jaw clenches, and I can see that he looks like he is about to blow up on me.

The withdrawal symptoms of not fucking me were too much, but now he feels the rage. He remembers why he hated me so much. I can literally feel the hatred and anger radiating off of him.

His already sharp jawline only seems accentuated by the way he clenches it. He swallows his Adam’s apple bobbing.

Chris’ eyes narrow at me, but he just gets up and puts his clothes back on. He looked furious.

I hate him, so why would I let him stay, why would I forgive him. He got the Sex he wanted, so why was he so pissy about leaving?

Now fully dressed he walks closer to me, not touching me.

“What’s wrong with you?” He scoffs. His mood was now definitely sour.

“That’s how you always treat me Chris. Now leave” I snap back at him, getting just as angry as him.

“Okay cherry, have it that way” he gives me a halfhearted sarcastic nod. He then brushes past me to the door, opening it, before a loud slam echoes through the house.

I had sworn to not hook up with him anymore. And if I did that I’d treat him like he treats me. But why do I feel so shitty now?

Can’t a girl have sex and then he all giddy and want to cuddle?

Yes but Chris’ presence irks me. It’s disgusting. He is disgusting.

Masterlist

A/N: requests are always open. pls give me ideas on how to continue this <3 comment if u wanna be on the taglist

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos

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euphoriaslux · 2 months

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a gloomy december morning

word count: 1196

warnings: suggestive sexual content, very slight jealousy, mentions of smoking and drinking. vincent being a dreamboat

a/n: i have never written before but i watched anatomy of a fall and knew what i had to do. i am so scared and think this is garbage but i hope u guys like it :))

vincent is fast asleep, a true rarity for your household. he’s naked, bar the thin linen blanket draped over his hips that his mother tossed in a bag when you two first moved into this home. you brush your fingers through his silver hair, shifting to give him a soft peck on his forehead. he shifts but ultimately stays in the same position.

smiling, you gently move your duvet off of your body, shivering at the lost warmth. you scan your shared bedroom, littered with strewn clothes, empty wine bottles and folders filled with documents and find a chair with an old tee shirt on it that hits just above your underwear.

you made a mental note to at least try to clean the house sometime soon, but you just couldn’t leave your vincent alone now that you finally had him for more than two hours at a time. after a year of only seeing him at night, or when you could visit his office during your lunch break, or over facetime in the early hours of the morning, something as simple as waking up with him felt sacred. you didn’t know how much of this you had.

you brace as you push the door close as quietly as possible, hissing as your feet hit the cold tile of the linoleum of your kitchen floor. it still smells vaguely of the cake you two shared last night, picking at pieces of tiramisu between gulps of white wine and sneaky kisses even though no one was watching. you grab some ground coffee and start to heat up your stovetop espresso maker, which you got at the insistence of your very stubborn husband.

“love, can’t we just get an instant coffee maker? it will be so much faster” you ask from behind your laptop, tucked into your velvet sofa as the december rain gently pattered onto your roof.

vincent chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from the drawer.

“you have not had a real cappuccino if it comes from a machine, chérie,” he says as he rummages through the kitchen drawers while swearing under his breath.

you rise from the couch with a soft sigh, shutting your laptop and placing it on the glass table in front of you and grabbing vincent’s lighter that’s pressed in between the couch cushions. his head whips around when he hears you click the lighter, and your cheeks widen as you walk over to him. vincent smiles back, his cigarette loosely hanging between his lips and his hair slightly disheveled from his search. he leans down ever so slightly, looking into your eyes as the flame lights the cigarette, taking a long drag before leaning against the kitchen counter.

“the coffee is more, how do you say bien équilibrée in english, darling?”

“well rounded,” you toss the lighter behind him, crossing your arms over your chest. he hums, nodding as he breathes out wafts of smoke.

“the coffee is more well-rounded,” the word sounds a little funny coming out of his mouth as if you could see his brain forming each letter in real-time. you can’t help but giggle, reaching behind him to open the kitchen window.

“i’m sure it is”

before you can fully stand up again his hand is on your lower back, softly bringing your body against his. he smells like tobacco and the slightly too minty toothpaste you buy from the convenience store down the road. he looks so beautiful in the dim winter light.

“tu me fais confiance, n'est-ce pas? (you trust me, don’t you?)” he asks, pressing his fingers into your side. he moves to hover just above your neck, and you can’t help but melt into his touch as he nibbles ever so gently on your neck, just below your ear. your eyes flutter closed and you feel the warmth pool in your lower stomach.

“vincent-”

“ you do, right?” he cuts you off as his hand wanders to the front of your body, playing with the waistband of your panties. his fingers ghost just above your cunt, and you sigh.

“of course, my love. always.”

you whine from the loss of contact as he steps away from you, taking a drag with a slight smile on his face.

“bon,” he says, his free hand caressing the side of your face.

“so we’ll go get our moka pot - not machine - tonight”.

you grin at the memory as you pour two shots of espresso into vincent’s favorite mug, along with a splash of whole milk, and turn on the burner to make another for yourself. you rock on your feet as you think of what to make for breakfast - maybe eggs? but vincent forgot to run to the farmers market, maybe jam on toast. there might be some leftover brioche-

you jump when you feel a pair of hands wrap around your chest smiling as you feel your husbands face nuzzle into your shoulder, pressing a few faint kisses on your skin while his hair tickles your neck.

“i thought you’d sleep for a few more hours honey,” you say, turning around to hand him his cup of coffee and laughing as his eyes brighten. he takes a sip, closing his eyes as he drinks.

“couldn’t sleep,” he says after a few moments, opening his eyes to stare into yours. his voice is deeper than normal, and you can tell he just woke up because there’s still a gravelly edge to it.

“i sleep poorly without you, honey.”

you raise your eyebrows as you let your fingers graze his chest and down his stomach.

“that’s a good one, do you tell all your girlfriends that?”

he rolls his eyes, taking a big sip before setting his mug on the counter.

“i’m being serious. i swear, every time it would get late and i’d try to sleep on sandra’s couch, i just couldn’t.”

your body goes rigid at the sound of her name but you try and ignore it, tracing circles onto his stomach. your mouth feels a little drier than it was a few minutes before.

vincent notices, of course he does. there’s nothing you could do that would get past him, the stellar lawyer.

“don’t be like that,” he whispers, cupping your hand in his face. you try to keep your gaze down but he tilts your head up.

you roll your eyes.

“every day while i was gone, all i wanted was to be home with you. you were all i could think about. you are all i ever think about.”

you feel lightheaded at his words, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kiss him deeply, sighing as your hand wanders down to the waistband of his boxers. you feel him smile into the kiss, putting out the cigarette so he has both hands free to touch you.

“take me to bed?”

you feel vincent’s stomach tense as your hand dips into his boxers. he gives you a soft kiss on the side of your face.

“how can i say no when you ask so nicely”.

#vincent renzi #vincent renzi x reader #vincent renzi fanfiction #swann arlaud #swann arlaud x reader #swann arlaud fanfiction #anatomy of a fall #anatomie d’une chute #anatomy of a fall fanfiction

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hellfire--cult · 2 months

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– 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙞𝙥𝙩𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙙 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙩 📏

Eddie Munson x Tall!F!Reader

wc: 3k

warnings: fluff, absolute fluff, high school (character +18), insecurity about height, bullying, eddie munson being the cutest fluff of hair there is.

You definitely know your height, and you are reminded of it everyday. And then you find out that a certain metalhead seems obsessed with you.

a/n: just a small thought i had the yesterday night and i just wrote it. haven't seen many tall!reader fics out there.

reblog if you enjoyed

STANDING ON TIPTOES AS A THIRD TALENT

You know. You are aware.

You are aware of how painful the stretch was when growing up.

You are aware of how many times people ask for your help to reach things for them.

You are aware of how you don’t comply with those stereotypical feminine looks.

You are aware of how guys don’t see you as an option because their masculinity is crushed by you being a few inches taller than them.

You are aware of how tall you are.

“If only we could get you on the basketball team.” Carver stood in front of you with his hands inside of his jersey, looking up at you. You never stopped walking, why would you? He kept walking backwards as he waited for a response.

“Why Carver? Though you are right, I bet I would do a better job in winning an actual game.” You could see Andy and Chase holding back their laughter but shaking it off as Jason turned to shoot a glare at them and then back at you, finally stopping because you are just tired of him following like a puppy. You will just listen to what he has to say and he’ll leave you alone.

“A little cocky, aren’t you?”

“No, but you for sure have one.” And he was confused by your response for a second, so you moved around him and continued walking. You heard him calling out your name with a curse after the idiot figured out your insult. You rolled your eyes as you opened your locker, looking inside to find a picture of Robin and you, a smile forming on your lips, trying to remember if you had band practice today or not.

You turned your head to look at some freshmen girls talking, whispering to one another as they looked at you and kept walking. Yeah… you are aware of how tall you are.

But you don’t need these people to remind you of it everyday.

You look back into your locker and start browsing, looking for your Spanish book, only to get pushed on the back, making you slam yourself onto the lockers. Your anger fuels as you take the book out and slam shut the locker door, turning around to face whoever pushed you in such a manner.

“Who the fuck–”

And not exactly eye to eye, still having to tilt your head down slightly, very so, and there stood a mop of dark curls. The whiff of tobacco and worn denim filled your nostrils as deep brown eyes collided with yours.

“Sh–Shit um–” You never spoke to Eddie Munson before. You shared some classes together, and you were surprised when you heard the news that he was finally graduating. You don’t really care for him graduating two years later because you yourself got held back a year. So, you two would be leaving high school hell together in a few months.

“You need anything?” You ask and the guy has yet to talk to you. You look behind him to see two of his friends snickering at one another. Oh. “Look, if this is a dare of ‘Talk with the tallest freak in Hawkins High’ thing, you already won, I talked to you.”

You turned, not really letting him speak as you walked forward to your Spanish class. It wasn’t the first time something like this happened to you. Guys jokingly asking you out, girls not bothering to lift their heads to look up at you, except for Robin. That girl decided to stick to your hip in fifth grade and she never let go.

Not that you would let go of her either. She knows too much.

Shit, you still don’t remember if you had band or not. You groan loudly as you sit at the very back of the classroom, knowing that you would just cover the view for anyone else who sits behind you.

After class you head to your locker to put your Spanish book back inside, only to see a note waiting for you on the side. You grabbed it and saw that it was Robin, telling you she had something to tell you and to meet her in the woods at the back of the school. You furrowed your brows at that but shrugged, closing the locker door and heading towards the woods.

Your long legs help to get to places even faster, so in just five minutes you had leaves crunching beneath your feet. You assumed she either meant the picnic table or the fallen trunk that’s more towards the parking lot. Closest to the building though? The picnic table… but the figure sitting on the table wasn’t Robin.

You heard him mumble as if practicing something, his mop of curls bobbing a bit as he said a few things only to then call himself ‘stupid’ and start over again. You rolled your eyes as you finally reached him, your arms over your chest.

“I knew you were crazy Munson, but not to the extent of talking to yourself.” You saw him jump up with a shriek, flailing his limbs around as he fell to the ground but quickly regaining himself as he turned to face you, wiping the leaves away. You held in the giggle, because– damn he is cute.

“Yeah well, um– I do worse than that sweetheart, trust me.” You raised your eyebrow at the nickname, feeling your cheeks heating up just slightly, but you shook your head and looked around.

“Have you seen Robin? She told me to meet her here.” And at your words, Eddie chuckled nervously while rubbing his cheek, trying to avert his gaze from you.

“Yeah um– Buckley didn’t put that note in your locker… I kinda– It was me.” You saw him put his hands behind him like a small child ready to get scolded, and to be honest, you were angry that he tricked you but–

“Why?”

“I uh– You kind of misunderstood something a few hours ago? I know I bumped into you and I didn’t really want to talk to you–” You raised your eyebrows at that in surprised offense.

“Excuse me?” He winced as he put his hand in a fist and hit his forehead a few times while shaking his head.

“Sorry, sorry– That is not what I meant! I definitely wanted to talk to you– talk to you, I mean, I wanted to talk to you for a long while, and I still do and well, we are talking now–” The boy was rambling and your confusion was growing the more he talked, so you took a few steps forward, waving your hands in front of you to get him to calm down.

“Hey, slow down Munson, jesus. You’re gonna have a stroke.” He looked up at you and nodded, taking a deep breath in and then letting out a nervous chuckle as he started pacing around with his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “Okay, I get it, you apologized, everything’s fine.”

“No, no, um… My friends, they tried to help me talk to you but you make me kind of nervous, so.” Ah, it wasn’t the first time you heard that.

“Yeah, my height sort of does that.” You shift in your place as you see him put a stop to his pacing, looking back at you with confused eyes.

“What?”

“Well, people tell me my height intimidates them, so… they’re nervous to talk to me. Did you need anything in particular?” You tilted your head at him and Eddie was still frowning and then started taking steps towards you, the tip of your sneakers touching with one another as his eyes looked up at yours. He was just a few inches shorter than you, you had a perfect view of his fringe.

“Well uh… You intimidate me yes… but not exactly because of your height darling.” You frowned as confusion plastered all over your features, looking at the metalhead that was still looking at you as if waiting for you to put a puzzle together in your head.

“Um… my incredible skills in Spanish intimidate you?” And Eddie smiled, and that honestly made your heart jump slightly because after all, Eddie Munson is not a bad-looking guy. He is the complete opposite of that, his own beauty to be described. Maybe it was his personality that also helped him become more charming. Either way, he was making your cheeks burn from how handsome he looked at this very moment as he stuttered with dimpled cheeks.

“No um… You intimidate me because– I think you are extremely, absolutely, and incredibly… beautiful.”

You blinked a few times, not really sure if you heard the guy right. Did he say you’re beautiful? That you intimidate him because of… beauty and not your height? And there’s also the fact that Eddie Munson is the one saying all of this when you can hardly count the times you spoke with the guy.

“Is this… a prank Munson?” You softly ask and he just groans, shaking his head like crazy.

“No, no. I promise it’s not– I–” He took a deep breath in as he scratched the back of his head, grabbing your hands and guiding you to sit down on one of the benches. You were confused but also, you were feeling your heartbeat beating like crazy against your chest, and you waited for him to start talking but he just kept pacing.

“Eddie–”

“Okay! So, the reason why my friends were behind me today and did the whole misunderstanding thing happen, which I get it, I can see how it–”

“Munson!” You were getting a little impatient now because you could now see he was nervous, but your own nervousness was making you a little bit cranky.

“Right! Sorry! My friends were fed up with me… Um–” You noticed a twinge of blush on his cheeks as he sighed, looking up at the sky. “I am not good with this, I normally like– have a casual conversation at the hideout, and then it happens it’s just–”

“The Hideout?” You don’t know where he is going anymore but he looks down at you and shakes his head once more.

“Nevermind. Like I was saying… my friends were fed up with me just– talking about you, all the time.” Okay, what? The shock must have been evident on your face because Eddie rounded the table, sitting on the bench in front of you now, putting his hands on the table, and rubbing his fingers together. “Say something? I am a nervous wreck over here, sweets.”

Something? What can you possibly say? You were never in this position at all. You aren’t the kind of person to get confessions like they do in movies. You don’t even know what to say, or do, your inexperience showing off in big amounts as you, yourself, start to become flustered.

“Um– I… I don’t– Why? Or what exactly do you say about me?” And he grabs a chunk of his hair in order to hide his face as he sways a little from side to side.

“Well… apart from how beautiful you look everyday… Everytime you put Jason or one of those guys in their place I just– I just boast about you… So I guess that when I heard the insult you threw at Jason today, I may have fangirled a bit and Gareth got fed up…” He winced a bit at the explanation but you felt your whole chest melt away at his words.

Your fingertips were sweaty, as you looked at him, and… fuck he turned from a guy to a man in just one instant. He was one year older than you and the fact he is stuttering so much despite his age in order to talk to you… was endearing. Cupid definitely passed by and shot an arrow through your chest just now.

“Um… can I ask um… why did you never talk to me? I mean… I think we talked like– what, six times in total?” You gave him a nervous giggle and he straightened up and cleared his throat as he looked at you.

“Didn’t you hear the part where… you intimidate me, sweetheart?” You frown at his words so he sighs and continues. “I don’t normally approach people with– my feelings. But um… we are graduating, and since we don’t talk I don’t know what your plans are later on, and– I just know that if I miss this chance I’m going to regret it my whole life.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at him, and it helped a small smile form on his own lips as he looked at you.

“Your whole life? That’s a bit drastic, isn’t it?” You smiled at him, biting onto your bottom lip now, feeling your belly turning slowly and nervously. He licked his lips and played with one of his rings as he talked to you.

“Not at all drastic, you are a catch, and I should be held back another year if I don’t shoot my shot with you right now.”

And he sounded so certain. So honest. There was not a single ounce of joke in his tone or playfulness. There was obvious flirtiness and endearment. But you still had to ask, because you don’t want to dive into something that he might not have thought of before.

“Um… You know I am a little bit taller than you… right Eds?” You ask and he tilts his head, a smirk forming on his lips as his cheeks tint red.

“You know, I am extremely good at standing on my tiptoes, it’s like my third talent.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his joke, yet you knew you were completely flushed by it. He cleared his throat and you looked back up at him. “So?”

“So?” You tilted your head as he leaned forward on the table, towards you, resting on his forearms and elbows.

“Do I get to shoot my shot here?”

Yeah… cupid definitely shot an arrow through your chest just now.

“Seriously, if you ditch me one more time–”

“I didn’t ditch you Robs, you decided to not come with us.” You were putting your books back into your locker as Robin leaned against the other lockers while looking at you.

“Well yeah! I don’t want to third wheel!” You roll your eyes at your best friend, catching a wild mop of curls walking through the crowd in the hallway. You smile widely as Eddie approaches you, his arms coming to wrap around your waist.

“Hey beautiful.” You giggle at how energetic he is today and you raise your hands to cradle his face and lean down, tilting his head a bit to place a kiss on his lips.

“Hi Eds.” He smiles and you feel him growing taller, coming almost eye-to-eye level with you, almost, and receiving another soft kiss on the lips before he returns to his original height.

“Tiptoes growing stronger each day.” He smiles at you only for him to be shoved into you and before you can hit the lockers, the hand on your lower back pulls you into him, while the other slams into the lockers, forbidding you from colliding against them.

“HEY!” Robin yelled and you looked up to see Jason laughing behind Eddie with a horrified look on his face.

“Oops, sorry. Didn’t see you there Munson.” Your eye twitched as you looked at him, only to then tilt your head.

“You know Jason, if you want a threesome that badly you just have to ask. No need to act so interesting and shit.” At your words, he stops laughing, anger plastered on his features now as he stares at you while Eddie turns around.

“Excuse me?” You rolled your eyes at him and pointed at Eddie.

“You messed with him, you messed with me, and now you want to butt into our relationship. Sorry though, we don’t do poly.” You smile at him as you look at him, up and down and scrunch up your nose. “Not that you’re even our type.”

People that were walking by snickered at your words and Jason only squinted at you and looked at Eddie who was holding a snort in, his hand covering his mouth.

“Freaks do belong together.” And you roll your eyes at that and wave Jason away.

“And assholes son of bitches do too, that’s the reason Chrissy dumped you. Scram.” You could see Jason taking a step towards you and Eddie’s playful mood immediately soured, stepping in front of you with a menacing smile towards the Jock.

“Wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Jason scoffed at Eddie’s threat and shook his head.

“What you gonna do, curse me?” Eddie gave him a fake smile and leaned close so that he could hear, his smile falling.

“I’ve been playing good all year Carver so that I could graduate, and honestly, I would throw that opportunity away for her. Don’t fucking test me.” And you could see Jason deliberating the words Eddie spoke. He took a step back and gave you one last look before huffing and walking away.

“Holy shit, never seen Carver back away that easily in my life.” Robin smiled and you were biting your lip as your heart thumped in your chest like crazy. Eddie turned around with a huge dimpled smile and then you could see the playful glint in his eyes.

“Have I ever told you how much it turns me on how you call those assholes out?” And Robin groaned in disgust and quickly rushed away. You laughed at him, as he came closer to you again, letting you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Yeah, you did.” You bit your lip as you looked down at him, feeling your heart beat loudly for your boyfriend who was looking at you as if hung the stars in the sky. “What you said…”

“Meant every word.”

“I was going to say that it turned me on but–” You were taken by surprise when he immediately nibbled your neck which he had easy access to, and a giggle escaped your lips.

“Don’t tempt me sweetheart.”

end

#for my tall girlies out there #i hope you like it #if not im sorry if i didnt get it right #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fics #eddie munson x y/n #fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson ficlet

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sunshineting · 1 year

Text

this is my first ever fic 🥹 so um yeah

plug!eren x nerdy!chubby!reader

word count- 1686

summary- you're a stressed college kid that just needs to relax

MINORS DNI please‼️‼️

“Oh jeez… I hope he makes this easy,” you muttered to yourself. You were stressed. Stressed as hell. Studying for midterms was whooping your ass and all you needed was a little green to help you relax. Your friend, Sasha, had given you the number to her on-campus plug. She gave you the slight warning that he was a bit intense, but reliable. You finally grew some balls and texted the ominous number.

‘Is this Eren?’ You were always nervous talking to plugs. Your slightly timid nature always made them think you were a narc or something. Nope. Just good old social anxiety. Your phone’s ding took you by surprise; he responded fast. He simply responded with a question mark.

‘Sorry. Sasha gave me your number. I was hoping to buy from you’

After a few more text exchanges, you had agreed to meet him at his apartment to pick up.

“Apartment 913… where the hell…?” On your third time circling his complex, you finally found it. Three quick knocks on the door later, you were face to face with a man’s collarbone. You look up and are met with intense, deep green eyes.

Oh no, he’s hot. You push your glasses back up your nose and introduce yourself.

“H-hi, I’m Y/N. I was texting you earlier?”

A sly grin creeps onto Eren’s face.

“Wassup?” He flicks his head to gesture for you to follow him inside. His apartment smelled like weed and the musk of generic ‘male’ scented candles. There were LED strip lights just about everywhere, giving the place a blue tint. Adding to the blue tint was a huge fish tank with all types of exotic and expensive looking fish. Following his lead, you took a seat on the couch. You didn’t want to make yourself too comfortable, so you sat on the edge.

“You could get comfortable, lil mama. I don’t bite,” Eren says with a smirk. You barely moved. Between him being a plug and him being hot, your awkwardness levels were through the roof.

“So whatchu tryna get? A gram, a three five, a zip? You look like you like edibles,” Eren lists off his products.

“You think I like edibles cuz I’m chubby?” You mumble. He chuckles.

“Nah, I just can’t imagine your lil innocent ass smoking.” A small pout forms on your face as you let out a ‘hmph’.

“How much is a three five? I have cash,” you say, trying to get back to business. He tells you it’s twenty, but only because you’re cute. You felt heat rush to your face at the compliment. After your transaction, Eren offers to smoke you out.

“Oh, you don’t have to. I just bought some.”

“You’re turning down free weed?” He deadpans. You purse your lips.

“…no.”

Watching Eren handle weed was unreasonably sexy. The way his big hands gently packed the blunt was mesmerizing. He’d put his long hair into a bun just prior to the process. Hell, even that was sexy. The t-shirt he wore exposed each flex of his muscles as he expertly tied his locks up. You just about combusted when he was licking the backwood. The flicks of his tongue on the paper sent electricity straight to your clit. Were you imagining it, or was he purposely licking it as lewdly as possible? You felt wetness pool in your panties.

“I never really smoke blunts,” you confess.

“Oh? What do you use then?”

“It’s this little glass bowl I got in high school. It’s small but it gets the job done.” You smile. You could feel yourself getting more comfortable bit by bit. Eren sparked up the blunt and took a long hit. He exhaled smoothly and passed it to you. You took a small pull and the sour smoke filled your mouth. You tried to fully inhale, but the sourness of the tobacco and the strength of the smoke was too much. Choking and coughing, you hand the damned thing back to Eren. Yep, there was a reason you stuck to your bowl. Despite not getting too much, you were just starting to feel the relaxing effects.

“C’mere” Eren waved for you to come closer to him. Your inhibitions were lowered and you didn’t give yourself time to overthink. You scooched closer to him, but he pulled you impossibly closer. He had you pressed up against him; his warmth igniting every cell in your body.

“Open your mouth,” he commanded softly. You didn’t even have time to think, you just obeyed. Eren took a smaller hit than his last and pulled your face directly in front of his. Your lips were just barely touching when he blew his smoke into your awaiting mouth.

“Th-thank you,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. You were trying your damnedest not to moan. It’s been so long since you’d been fucked. Your vibrator was nothing compared to the real thing and holy shit was Eren real. Eren glances down at your lips and licks his own. He was unbelievably hard. From the moment he saw you at his door, he knew he had to have you. Call it a corruption kink or whatever, but he just wanted to ruin that innocent look you had.

“You want more?”

“Mmhm,” you whimper. You squeeze your legs together just to get any type of relief for your swollen clit. Your little pussy is weeping, clenching around nothing as he blows more smoke in your mouth. You continue this until most of the way through the blunt, then you tap out. You were very much high and the cottonmouth was setting in.

“Could I have some water please?” You ask your host. As he stands, you see a very obvious print in his basketball shorts. While he gets the water, you take the time to stare at his fish tank.

“It’s like Finding Nemo in this bitch,” you breathe out. Time was feeling wonky as Eren returned with your water. It felt like forever and only a moment all at the same time.

“Thank you!” You say before your first sip.

“So polite… What a good girl. Are you always this sweet?” Eren asks. You nod.

“Yeah? You wanna be my good girl?” He questions as a hand begins to rub your thigh.

“Mmhm” you let out a breathy moan. With that, Eren picks you up and pulls you onto his lap as if you weigh nothing. His big hands grip both sides of your waist as he grinds you onto him. Your loose dress has been pulled up and pools around your thighs. Even clothed, you can feel his hard length pressing up against you.

“Let’s take this off,” he guides as he pulls off your cardigan. The removal of your cardigan causes the thin straps of your dress to fall off your shoulders. You felt like a mess and he hadn’t even fucked you yet. Eren decides to finally kiss you and pulls your mouth to his. He was devouring you. Immediately he fills mouth with his tongue. It was the sexiest, sloppiest kiss you’d ever had. Your needy little cunt is aching for relief. It’s practically hurting. Your full tits were pressed up against his chest and he could feel your nipples poking him. Eren uses one hand to start rubbing your clit through your panties. You’re so grateful for the relief, it feels like you’re melting into him.

“Damn lil mama you got a super soaker down there. That’s all for me?” Eren chuckles. You only give a whimper in response. You were so embarrassed at how easily you’re folding for this man.

“You want me to fuck this little pussy? Hm?” He groans.

“Mmhm,” you nod and whimper.

“Use your words”

“Please fuck me! Please, please I need it,” you beg. Eren could feel the precum leaking from his tip. His dick was so hard it hurt. You stand for a bit to discard your dress, leaving you only in your teddy bear print panties. He’d taken this time to remove his own clothes and you could finally see the huge cock that you’d been grinding on. Holy shit, he’s big. His cock is thick and pretty, with the tip a dark rosy pink. Your mouth began to water. You want to suck it, but Eren has other plans.

“Come sit on this dick, pretty.”

You quickly oblige. Eren revels in how warm and soft your thick thighs are. As you sink down on him, both of you are surprised. Him, at how tight and wet you are. And you, at how fucking deep he’s going. You can feel every inch and the delicious stretch of him filling you up. He’s so thick, your walls have him in a chokehold.

“Fuck, it’s so big,” you moan. Eren can’t even think of a cocky response. All his concentration is going toward not cumming. It was bad enough the two of you didn’t use a condom but the last thing y’all needed was a pregnancy scare.

You start riding him, bouncing up and down trying to maintain a good rhythm. With one hand gripping your waist, he takes the other and rubs circles on your clit. The extra stimulation has you falling apart. You can feel your orgasm building higher and higher. Eren feels your walls tighten ever more and can tell you’re just about to go over the edge.

“Cum for me. Give it all to me. Cum on this cock, baby,” he damn near growls in your ear. The permission to cum finally sends you over the edge; wave after wave of sweet release relaxing your tense muscles. Feeling your squishy walls flutter from cumming sends Eren over the edge, too. He lifts you off his cock just as ropes of thick cum spurts out of him. You’d left a ring of cream around the base of his shaft. As you sit back on his lap, Eren says, “Don’t get your weed from anybody else ever again, you hear me? Next time you need anything – weed or dick – you hit me up. I’m serious.”

#aot smut #eren x reader #eren jaeger #eren x y/n #eren jaeger smut #eren yaeger #eren jaeger x reader #attack on titan #eren yaeger smut #attack on titan smut #plug!eren #plug!eren x chubby!reader #kait's writes

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the-californicationist · 4 months

Note

Ok but imagine price being a dockworker and coming to the bar the reader is a server at after long days. Smelling like the salt on salt, chest hair peeking thru his shirt. She knows his exact order down to how much froth he wants on his beer and he just melts into his chair once he sees her on shift but their asses won’t even kiss yet (they wanna fuck diiiirty in between all the barrels out back tho)

Thank you so much for the ask!! I wish I got more of these <3 I love impromptu writings!! ^_^

MDNI

Somehow, you knew it was him by the sound of your door. The way that it creaked and popped, and the force with which it knocked the tinkling little bell at the top - all of these noises were the same, or at least they should have been, no matter who was coming or going from your bar. The way the metal bolt clicked out of the frame, the way the warped wood of the threshold whined and bent, the way that one pane of glass shuddered in the top left corner... it shouldn't have sounded different when he walked in. But, it did.

He sat in his seat, objectively the worst one in your bar. It was out of the line of sight from the television, and it was down at the fruit-filled service end, far from the keg taps. It was where you ran credit cards and kept your phone to take breaks, and you flattered yourself that the reason he sat there was to spend time with you.

John Price was a piece of work, that was for sure. He would come by right before close and linger. It was nice to have someone walk you to your car, especially on cold nights, since you were so close to the docks. He'd ride his old Triumph over from his work as a shipping and receiving foreman in the harbor, and he'd smell like sweat and the salt from the sea. His clothes would reek of tobacco from those fat cigars he'd always smoke, and you knew his beard would smell like it, too.

You wondered what it felt like, his beard. You wondered if it was as soft as it looked. You wondered what he would say if you asked him to give you a ride back to his place on that old, worn-out bike and lay you on his bed so he could kiss you from behind that beard all night. You wondered, over and over when you lay in your own sheets alone, what it would feel like for him to drag that rough-shaven chin over the swell of your breast. How would it feel on the insides of your thighs? Would it hurt you?

"You want the usual?" You asked him, trying your best to concentrate on shining the glass in your hand and not about having his body between your legs.

He smiled up at you and nodded,

"Sure, love. The usual."

As you poured his lager, keeping a little extra foam at the top, just how he liked it, you caught yourself staring again.

It was cold out, so he was in a thick coat, but he never had his collar buttoned up. There was always a bit of his chest on view for you through the drab plaid shirts he wore. He had a cut tonight, and you could see it soaking through the white of his undershirt.

"You okay, John?" You set his beer down and motioned to his gash.

"Oh," he chuckled warmly, "Yeah. Just got a little too close to the off-loader crane and paid for it. No harm, really."

"Let me clean it up for you. C'mon," you opened the bar's side door and lifted it so he could duck underneath, taking his beer with him and following you upstairs to your office.

Your barback would take care of the two other patrons you had. It was a Tuesday after midnight. You could close without any harm done.

As John wandered into your space, he noticed your makeshift cot in the corner.

"Surely you're not sleepin' at work, love?"

You laughed a little nervously,

"Don't tell the health inspector on me. Have a seat in that chair. Lemme get the first-aid kit."

He sat. Your heart pounded in your throat. As you dug around for the kit, you felt your nerves fraying. Maybe you liked John a little more than you thought.

"Here. Alright, can you show me the cut?"

You knelt in front of him so you could be in line with the wound. You tried to clean it, but his clothes were getting wet.

"Oh, sorry. Uh -"

"Here, love," he shucked his jacket off and peeled his shirt off from his back, leaving it around his arms, pinned in the sleeves, "That better?"

You nodded, feeling your breath catch in your throat.

He was huge. It was almost monstrous, the way his body bulged out around his bones, enormous snapping muscles rolling around his shoulders and neck, making him look like an animal. He was covered in soft, brown fur, and as you went to touch him, you made a grave mistake.

You hesitated.

Ever observant, you knew he caught you stumbling over him, frozen in place like a scared doe. But, mercifully, he said nothing, and allowed you to get to work.

Clean. Dry. Salve. Bandage. Smooth the edges. Make an excuse to do it again, once more to seal it down.

"There, all done. You have been a very brave patient," you smiled up at him and went to box up the supplies back in their little tin.

"You know," he purred, "Brave patients usually get some sort of prize."

You laughed softly,

"Fresh out of lollies and peppermints, I'm afraid."

"Sure there isn't anything else you'd offer me to suck on, love?"

His voice was low, dark, and deep. It crawled to you on its belly from the bottom of the sea, from the pressures and the cold, black hell of the fathoms of the water, lapping at the sides of your boat, threatening to sink you. He looked at you like a tiger shark studies a diver, with a chilling curiosity from the mighty to the fragile, wondering what you taste like and deciding if he'll bite.

John's arms were still bound by his clothes. If you wanted to flee, you would've had plenty of head-start. But, you didn't. You were moving outside of your own volition. It was as if you were dreaming, watching yourself be piloted by an unknown force. You stared him down and stood, stepping right between his knees, forcing him to look up at you and wait for your reply.

You peeled off your white tee shirt, revealing your bare breasts to him. Going bra-less meant usually meant more tips, but tonight you weren't concerned about the money. You wanted him to praise you. You wanted to call his bluff. You wanted him to fuck you on the stack of kegs in the corner of your office and let the sharp metal rims dig into your belly as he stuffed his cock into you from behind.

His shirts were gone from his arms in a second, and he leaned forward just enough to put his face to your breast, letting you feel the heat of his breath on your skin, sighing into you. John held your eyes captive in his the whole time, as if he may look away and break the spell. Then, he watched you watch him take your nipple into his mouth, suckling on it as gently as he possibly could, as gently as anyone had ever done.

You trembled, letting go of a breath you'd been holding, looking down at him as he sucked your flesh between his wet lips. You were right about the smell of the tobacco.

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain john price #cod #john price #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price x you #captain john price smut #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #ask me anything #careful what you ask for #because my answer is usually smut

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simon-sehs · 18 days

Text

give

tags / cw: f!reader, engaged!reader (hubby not specified), fatherly!price, fluff, wedding planning, very very vague mention of displaced family situation

You were a bundle of nerves.

It was strange… you imagined you’d have an easier time going into the fire of battle, but this? This was different. This could probably make or break your professional relationship with your Captain. Possibly. It was hard to tell, looking back on the past and trying to form a concrete outcome. Regardless of how caring and nicely he treated you, it still didn’t mean he’d be up for such a tall order, such an honor and / or obligation.

But that’s why you were here, standing outside his office to ask. You knocked on the door, your shiny, new engagement ring in your peripheral; you never got tired of the sight, and prayed you never would.

“Come in.” A gruff voice responded.

You opened the door and walked in. As expected, Price was sat at his desk, taking care of a stack of forms. He looked up and smiled warmly. “Sarge. What can I do for you?”

His demeanor was infectious, making you smile back as you shut the door. “Cap. Hope I’m not bothering you, wanted to run something by you…”

Price leaned back in his chair, his body relaxing and, seemingly grateful for a short distraction from work. “Alright, hit me. Oh, but first, I’m curious. How much was it?”

Confusion washed over you, quickly replaced by a blush as you glanced at your ring. “Oh, hah, uh… no idea. I didn’t ask…”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Not important, huh? ‘Atta girl.”

You laughed as well, rubbing your arm in a gesture of sudden shyness. “Anyway, uh, speaking of… getting married… that’s what I’m here about. Wedding won’t be for a while, sure, but I still needed to… ask…”

Price waved a hand, dismissively. “Oh, don’t worry, I wouldn’t miss it for the world, you know that.”

You smiled softly, a comfortable warmth washing over you. “I… I know. But, that’s… not it. Not exactly.” You sighed and intertwined your fingers together. “I was wondering—sorry, we were wondering, actually… if, uh…”

You faltered. “Well, I mean, if I’m overstepping, please tell me, and I won’t hold it against you, by any means. But, uh… well, we wanted to know, if… maybe… you would… want to walk me down the aisle? Give me away, and all that?”

He looked at you, surprised. “…Me?”

You nodded. “I don’t want you to feel obligated. You can say no. I just… well, you know my family situation, and… I just… who else would I entrust this to, you know? I mean, I don’t have to entrust anyone to, I’m fine with walking myself—“

“Yes.” He interrupted your rambling.

You paused, your heart racing. “Y-yes?”

Price nodded, his warm smile returning. “Of course. It would be my honor. You know that.”

You gulped and quickly wiped any forming tears away. “Right, right, of course. I, uh. Thank you… so much.”

“No, thank you…” You watched as he stood from his desk and walked around, coming up to you and hugging you. The embrace was warm and comforting, not too tight and just perfect, the subtle scent of tobacco and musk filling your nose as you returned the hug.

After a moment, he pulled back and nodded. “Was that all?”

You smiled and nodded as well. “That’s it. We… will keep you updated, of course.”

“Good.”

You turned and left the office, as he returned to his seat—and, despairingly, his paperwork. But, despite that, his smile had not faltered.

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ghouljams · 6 months

Text

Project X-⬛⬛⬛⬛ Tags: Cyberpunk au, Gaz x f!reader, sexism, bodyguard vibes, military bullshit, espionage, android!reader Summary: Asset protection is one of those things Gaz is good at but hates. It's a boring specialty on good days, and a pain in the ass on bad days. You're a breath of fresh air, charming, witty, competent. He doesn't know why you need an escort, until he does.

"Got a job for you," Price says, dropping a dossier in front of Gaz. The younger man flips it open and tabs through. It's old school, paper and ink, easily destroyed if anyone came looking for it. Must be pretty high on the classified roster.

"Asset protection," Gaz asks, frowning at the neatly typed words, the blacked out squares next to names and places.

"Asked for you specifically." Price tells him, taking the seat next to him and pulling a cigar free.

"What is it?" Gaz flips through again, usually there's a photo or description, something to indicate what he's supposed to be guarding.

"Didn't say." Price grumbles around the cigar in his mouth. He clicks his lighter and burns the end to smoldering. A heavy inhale and he's pulling the tobacco from between his lips. "Just that mum's the word."

Gaz hums, discretion is the name of the game. He's worked with a lot of high value targets, babysat a lot of wealth, and even more weapons. All in all it shouldn't be too hard a job. His eyes land on a page, mission objectives, almost fully blacked out. "It's a person," He declares. Price leans over to inspect the page following Gaz's finger where it points at one of the only legible words on the page: escort.

The car is nice, at least. These things are always harder when the car sucks. Gaz leans against the black metal, waiting for your first handler to finish whatever pass off checklist they have. Some diplomatic function, boring. It's more fun when he's got a package to worry about, people just make his job harder. Supposedly that's why they pay so much. The front door of the, frankly pretty gaudy, hotel opens and he pushes off the car to stand at attention. Your handler is wearing a suit, but Gaz can see the crisp kevlar under it. The same way he can see the outline of some serious fire power on their hip.

You're something else. Something Gaz has never seen before. There's something elegant about you, something in the way you walk, the soft way you lay your hand on your handler's arm and thank them. Every movement is so perfect, well trained, your skin practically glows in the neon lights that seem to infect every inch of the city. You smile at Gaz when you see him, pull the fur shrug draped at your elbows up around your shoulders. You offer your hand as you walk towards him and he takes it, foregoing professionalism to kiss your knuckles. You laugh a little and pat his cheek.

"What a charmer," You tell your handler, "I can see why you came so highly recommended."

"Best in the business," Gaz grins, opening the car door for you. You're careful stepping in, prim and proper as you take your seat against the leather. He closes the door on you, and your handler catches his arm.

"We expect the asset back no later than 0100. Try to keep eyes on it." They tell him gruffly. Gaz shakes the hand off with a glare.

"Not my first time doin' this mate, try to keep your eyes on your own work." The handler narrows their eyes but lets him go. Gaz makes his way around the car to climb in next to you. The driver is another of your people, he assumes.

You lean forward and press the button to raise the driver partition. When you sit back it's with a sigh. Gaz settles his elbows against his knees to watch you. You peak at him out of the corner of your eye, it's cute the way you look away quickly. Gaz hums, feels his smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You turn in your seat to look at him, your fingers scratching idly at the skin under your ear.

"You have questions," You start for him. He nods. "Let's here them."

"Your file." He offers.

"Completely redacted, I know." You sigh, leaning back in your seat again. It's nice seeing you casual, something about you was almost too poised back there. Spy work, Gaz notes, those fuckers are the only ones that are that conscious of their bodies. Unnaturally natural, that's the best way he can describe spies.

"You're in espionage," He tells you. You give him a smile and an affirming hum.

"You're clever." You compliment.

"Observant," Gaz corrects before he tackles the real question of the evening, "What are we doing?"

"Information extraction," You tell him easily, "All you have to do is make sure I get out in one piece."

"That dangerous, huh?" Gaz asks.

"More like a test run," You toy with the bracelet around your wrist. You must be new to the field. Strange that he'd be tagging along for the ride, but Gaz isn't complaining. Not when your eyes meet his and it feels like he's been hit with something electric.

"You got a name?" He needs to call you something, needs to attach something substantial to your face. Your smile is almost pitying when you shake your head. Classified then. "How about a nickname?"

"You can call me whatever you want," you laugh. He'll get a name out of you eventually, but he can work with that for the moment.

Getting into the gala --fuck it's always a gala, Gaz hates galas-- is startlingly easy. You give the bouncer your ticket and when they have trouble finding your name you lean comfortably over their arm to look at the guest list. If Gaz was a jealous man he might track the way the bouncer's eyes fix on the low drape of your dress's neckline, oogling down your dress while you point to your name. You look up at them through your lashes with a soft, "Here I am" that could stop a man's heart. Stop's Gaz's heart at least, and he's pretty sure it stops the bouncer's too.

He follows you a step behind, eyes scanning the room for threats, and potential enemies. You appear as nonchalant and unbothered as your cover identity would. A prime minister's kid, here to be shown off as a stunning product of your country. Never mind that the actual prime minister is unmarried and a known agoraphobe. You're quite charming bumping elbows with the upper crust, natural. Gaz would think you were born and bred royalty the way you so seamlessly integrate yourself into conversation.

You laugh a little at a Russian oligarch's joke, slip your hand on his arm as his hand slides against your back. Dirty old men, Gaz thinks to himself. He gives the geezer a glare and you wave him off.

"You must excuse my guard," You tell him sweetly in Russian, "My father, you know, so overprotective."

"So I've heard," The Russian purrs. Gaz tries not to gag. Surely this man doesn't think he actually has a chance with you.

He does.

Gaz trails behind you as you giggle and feign drunkenness, clinging to the Russian's arm as he leads you to his private room. Now this song and dance Gaz knows. You take the mark somewhere private, maybe wind him up a bit, then you take him out, and grab the intel. He doesn't expect you to unclip your necklace and loop it around the Russian's neck as soon as the door starts to close. Gaz glances at the empty hall, and quickly slides into the room to shut the door.

You're far too quick twisting the thin piano wire chain around your hands and pulling it hard against the man's windpipe. He hardly has time to struggle before falling limp. There's something cold and calculating in your movements. Something precise Gaz has never seen before as you release the tension and let the body drop. No wasted movement, no twitch out of place. It almost reminds him of Ghost the way you barely breathe a sigh when you straighten up.

You stare down at the body on the floor, your expression blank, your eyes dead. You seem to snap back into yourself and turn to look at Gaz. All the warmth rushes back into you when you meet his eye. First times, Gaz thinks, they're always the hardest. You glance around the room, searching for something he can't see. It looks like a normal suite, but you must see something different. You're confident in your movements as you walk towards a wall of screens and mirrors.

You push a few buttons on the pad next to the mirrored wall and grab the Russian by the hair to get a retina scan. Gaz has seen a lot of computers in his day, but nothing like the tower that opens up out of the wall. Huge black computers with blinking lights and neon displays, the wires that hang from them seem to spill like blood out of the casings. You look at it like it's the flayed corpse of an angel, something holy and terrifying. He wonders what they trained you on to make you look like that.

"Watch the door," You order.

"Rog," Gaz gives you a thumbs up and tugs his gun from the holster under his jacket. He'll think about your upbringing later, when you're safely back in the car to rendezvous. Then he'll have time to get to know you better.

You both nod, and Gaz slips out into the hall. He keeps his foot in the door, careful to leave himself an exit if things start getting dicey. Behind it he can hear the low hum of the computer and short deft keystrokes. You're quick, clever. He likes clever. For a first mission you feel a lot like an old hand at this. There's no nervousness, no anxiety he needs to comfort, like you're made for this sort of thing. He supposes intelligence agencies are getting better at recruiting, or better at grooming their agents.

Whichever it is you're a wonder. Of course your handler would want you back in one piece at the end of this. You're not the sort of agent that they could disavow, you're an investment towards future endeavors. A good one too.

It's quiet in the hallway. Just quiet enough to hear the music from the gala downstairs. Eventually someone on the Russian's detail will notice he's missing. Hopefully the man's reputation is bad enough they can assume why he slipped off.

As if on queue a man in a suit rounds the far corner. Gaz sets his shoulders back, and holds his arms behind his back, standing at parade rest to hide his gun. No need to raise any alarms while you're working.

"Mr. Kuznetsov is needed downstairs," The man tells him as he gets closer, staring down his nose at Gaz.

"'Fraid I can't do that mate, he's occupied." Gaz smiles, his finger itching against his pistol's trigger.

"Tell your whore to un-occupy him," The man threatens. Ah well, violence for violence. The pistol is leveled and shot as quick as Gaz can draw it, his bullet carving a hole through the man's jaw and up to splatter his brains on the ceiling. Something buzzes and sparks in the man's ear, shouts for backup over a microphone. Well, that's unlucky.

Gaz ducks back into the room, gun drawn as he presses his shoulder against the wall. He keeps his eyes on the hallway through the crack in the open door.

"Gonna have company here soon sweetheart, might want to hurry-" He glances at you, his eyes fixing themselves on the wires the string from behind your ear to the computer terminal, "-up."

Your eyes dart unseeing between screens of rapid text, the port at your hairline glowing almost as brightly as your eyes do. A bot. You're a bot. But you were so- How- There are no seams in your skin, no hesitation in your movement, you speak and act exactly like- You laugh at jokes, your eyes crinkle when you smile, you have to be human. Otherwise Gaz doesn't know what you are.

Your dexterous fingers move to unplug your uplink from the tower. The cord slips back up and into the hidden panel you'd pulled it from. "All done," You turn to face him, pushing the panel closed, your eyes meet his and panic flashes across your face. Gaz pulls away from the door, and hears it click shut.

"What the fuck are you," Gaz asks before he can think through the ramifications of the question. You open your mouth and are stopped by someone pounding on the door. Gaz glances back at it and makes a decision. "Exit now," He orders you, and you nod quickly.

"There's a fire escape."

"Out you go doll," He tells you, "I'm right behind ya."

#cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x oc #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #gaz mw2 #gaz modern warfare #gaz cod #gaz x oc #f!reader #x f!reader #android!reader #cyberpunk au

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alldevilsarehere90 · 8 months

Text

Title: Pretending Pairing: Daryl x Female Reader Summary: You'd been waiting long enough for Daryl to make it clear how he felt about you and now you were tired of waiting. Rating: 15+ (SFW) W/c: 1.6k Setting: Alexandria / Abandoned town Genre/Warnings: One shot / fluff / Romance / Friends to lovers / Bad language / slightly suggestive if you squint Prompts: "You wouldn't second-look me before the world went to shit, so don't pretend otherwise.' Requested by @ravenrose18 A/n: Tried to make this as fluffy as I could, I had to re-write it because I made it too angsty the first time, I can't help it, it's in my nature lol Enjoy

You'd had enough, enough of waiting for Daryl Dixon to make a move, enough of not knowing if he even wanted to. The mixed signals he gave you were sometimes enough to cause whiplash.

Your mind was made up, today was the day you would confront him and find out once and for all how he felt about you.

This morning, as you showered and got yourself ready to go on the run with him, you had been full of confidence, consumed by your plan and practising your confession repeatedly to yourself in the mirror. The words ran through your mind over and over, like a script you were trying desperately to memorise, as you head down the pathway leading to the gate.

As soon as you spot him waiting for you however, your bravado runs off, abandoning you, leaving you feeling vulnerable and second guessing your decision.

"Yer ready?" He asks, already seated on his motorbike and sends his cigarette shooting across the road with a flick as you approach him.

Nodding, you climb on, hands unsteady as they make their way around his waist.

Your clammy palms lock together to keep yourself in place. His scent instantly claims your senses; tobacco and leather with an added note of something so him, you couldn’t put your finger on it but breathed it in and relished it just the same.

The gate opens and as soon as it's a wide enough exit, his hands move and you speed off, leaving Alexandria a blur behind you.

The wind whips through your hair, sending it flying wildly around your face. You enjoy feeling the cool air ripple against your skin, calming your nerves and clearing your mind. Before you knew it, you found yourself leaning your cheek on Daryl's back, closing your eyes, enjoying the closeness and warmth radiating from him but when you notice him stiffen under you for a brief moment, back muscles pulled taute against the softness of your face, you almost sit upright again before feeling him slowly relax back into the journey.

But all too soon you had come to your destination and were forced to unwrap yourself from him.

An abandoned town sat a fair few miles from Alexandria that had been discovered by the two of you on the way back from another run. It was getting dark when you came upon it previously and you were both tired and dirty and just wanted to get home. Investigating in the dark is never a good idea if it is not necessary.

You'd agreed to come back a few short days later in the daylight to explore it and here you were. Staying near him, eyes constantly surveying your surroundings, while Daryl hid the bike in the opening of the woods.

The place seemed deserted, eerily so, with no sight of any one dead or alive. Odd but not unheard of.

You both get your weapons out ready and head into the surrounding buildings, searching one by one and finding a surprising amount of supplies and only a handful of walkers to deal with. It was shaping up to be a very successful run. And once you'd swept through the empty little town, taking anything you could use and putting it in your packs, you journeyed to the final building; a clothes store.

You both grab standard clothes in different sizes so there could be something for everyone and fill up the last of the space in your packs in the process.

Wandering the store and surveying the racks looking for anything new and interesting, when you spot a black cowboy hat, taking it off the shelf and searching around the rails for your companion. You spot him pulling items off hangers and shoving them into his bag. Quietly walking up behind him and placing the hat on his head with a giggle.

"Why, howdy there partner, fancy seeing ya in these neck'a the woods." You mock, in a deep southern accent. He turns to you, smiling, that same smirk that you've grown to love so much and never fails to make your heart beat faster.

“Ma’am.” He nods, flicking the brim of the hat, attempting to join in with your playfulness.

Your stomach quivers as you relish seeing this side of him, a side it seems only you can bring out. “Well, well, ya can take the boy outta the country but ya can’t take the country out the boy.”

He scoffs and tosses the hat at you, managing to land it on your head. “Suits yer better.”

You hold the brim and incline your head, “thank yer, thank yer very much.” You say, spinning off towards another section of the store, hearing his quiet laughter causing butterflies to fly rampant inside you.

A perfect cobalt blue sundress catches your attention and you head over to it. The material felt soft and thin against your fingers, perfect now the warmer weather was here. It wasn't until the sound of Daryl clearing his throat behind you, you realised he'd been watching.

"Why dun yer take it?" He asks, his bag full and slung over his shoulder.

Turning back to the dress, with your bottom lip caught between your teeth in hesitation, you shrug. "I've got no reason to wear it." You finger at the material one last time, admitting to yourself that you want it more because the colour matches Daryl's eyes than because of the way it feels. "What do you think?" You ask him, peeking at him slyly.

He shifts his weight to the other foot and picks at his nails. "Try it, see if yer like it" he nods his head towards the single dressing room.

You mull it over before agreeing that's probably best. If you don't feel good wearing it there's no point in taking it.

Shutting the door behind you as you enter the small space, you begin to remove your old clothes and slip the dress over your head. A little manoeuvring and smoothing the material down before you brave the mirror attached to the wall. You're not sure what you expected but it wasn't the sight that stared back at you.

You looked pretty. You haven't felt pretty in…well, in a very long time. Seeing yourself in this dress, as silly as it sounds, made the world seem as if it hadn't ended and it was just another day out shopping for something new. You take a moment to adjust to this version of yourself in front of you before slowly opening the door and hesitantly exiting. Peering around outside where you'd left Daryl, only to be met with nothing but still, quiet space.

"Daryl?" You whisper.

His face shot out in front of you, "yea," he replies, as he appears from inside the rack closest to the changing room. He laughs as you jump, clutching your chest but unable to help the grin stretching the corners of your mouth. Your hand playfully hit his chest, "you jerk."

His smile drops as his eyes fall to your outfit and he takes a step back to really look at you. A red tinge blooms across his cheeks as his eyes roam over your body, more skin on show than ever in this strappy, short dress.

Your stomach flips at the way he’s looking at you, feeling more confident than ever in how he feels about you.

"So, what do you think?" You say, giving him a spin and in the process sending the dress flying up a little higher than you intended.

He clears his throat again, "s'nice." His voice more quiet and raspier than usual. You enjoy watching his adams apple bob up and down following the loud swallow.

There was only a few centimetres of space between you, his radiating heat made you painfully aware of his proximity.

Reaching forward, fingers in search of his and when you find them his eyes dart downwards at the unexpected touch but they respond quickly and entwine with yours. It was the confirmation you needed, bringing your other hand to tuck some of his long hair behind his ear. But he dips his head, taking his gaze away from you.

"Hey," you whisper, cupping his face and pulling him up to look at you. "If you don't feel the same, you can say."

He scoffs. "If I dun feel the same?" He repeats in surprise. "I've wanted yer since the day we met."

Your heart jerks at his confession before galloping away your chest, part of its own solo race towards him but confusion spoils your happiness, not understanding as to why he seems so unsure. You wait with a questioning gaze on him, searching his eyes for answers.

Finally, he sighs, "Yer wouldn't second-look me 'fore the world went ta shit, so dun pretend otherwise."

You bring both your hands to either side of his face and wait until his eyes meet yours again. "Daryl Dixon, I can promise you, world ending or not, I would have second, third and fourth looked you."

His answering smile made you feel like you were getting through to him.

"No one is pretending here." You insist as your hands wind around his neck and you lean up on your tiptoes to be closer to his mouth. "I have waited and waited for you, Daryl. How about we don't waste anymore time?"

As soon as the last word passes your lips, his touch yours before you even have a chance to form your next thought.

His hands come up to your face, cradling you softly and caressing the skin of your cheeks with his thumbs. Everything in this moment was gentle, loving and far more passionate than you'd envisioned. You held each other close with a lingering desperation lurking beneath the surface, something to be explored when you were both ready.

When you finally break apart, breathing hard and hearts pounding, he slides his hands down your sides to clasp yours.

"Here's ta not wasting time." He says into the silence, placing a quiet kiss on the back of your hand. "Come on, let's go home."

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl #twd

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kingkatsuki · 4 months

Text

— addiction

Yep, so he got me. I’m already obsessed, cannot be saved.

Warnings: 18+, friends with benefits, public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, not proofread.

Pairing: Engine/Enjin x f!reader.

Word Count: 2k.

“Smoking is bad for you, you know.” You smirk at the irritated expression that appears on Enjin’s face as he cups his palm around his lighter, flicking his thumb over the spark.

It takes a few times for the battered zippo to start, the engraving on the worn silver not even to him. Another prize picked out of the junk thrown into the Abyss.

He ignores your teasing as the stick illuminates, pocketing his lighter as he inhales deeply. Catching it between his thumb and forefinger as he blows a thick plume of smoke into the evening air, watching the silvery wisps disappear into the atmosphere.

“You don’t say,” Enjin plants a booted foot against the wall behind him as he leans back, bringing the cigarette back to his lips to take another long drag.

It’s moments like this you cherish the most, one of the simple frivolities of the Abyss— the times you get the leader alone.

“Could kill you.” You move closer now, invading his personal space like you often do. Surrounding yourself in the scent of him, a mixture of smoke, sweat and the drugstore aftershave that would’ve been cheap in Heaven but is premium below.

“There’s a lot of other things that could kill me down here first,” He scoffs, blowing another cloud of smoke directly into your face, “Oi—”

You catch him off guard as you snatch the cigarette that’s dangling between his lips, smirking at the wide-eyed look of annoyance on his face as you drop the stick to the floor. Your heeled boots quick to stomp on it, extinguishing the flame as he practically lifts you off the ground to try and salvage it. Hands firm on your hips as he looks down at the broken, mangled tobacco.

“Do you know how much that cost?” He groans.

“You get paid well as a Janitor, I’m sure you can always buy—” You begin to tease, but before you manage to finish your sentence Enjin’s grip on your waist tightens as he shifts positions to press your back up against the cold brick wall.

He knows your games all too well, and knows how to beat you at them. Your taunting no match for his sheer display of strength as he turns the tables, caging you between him.

“You’re such a brat,” Enjin growls, his lanky body towers over you as he corners you like a hungry wolf. The poor little lamb can do nothing but stare up at its captor as your eyes meet his burning gaze, the fragments of smoke still seared into his lungs pepper your face as you fist the hem of his trench coat.

“But isn’t that why you like me?” You coo back, and it’s enough to have Enjin seeing red.

His lips meet yours in a kiss that’s almost bruising, teeth clash as your hands tug him closer. Trying impossibly to deepen the kiss as your tongue lashes against his incisors, swallowing the final bits of smoke that leave his lungs.

You always claim he’s addicted to the drug, when Enjin refutes he could go cold turkey at any time. But truth be told, you were the real drug he was addicted to, and there was no way he’d ever want to quit.

Deft fingers search a path they’ve followed a thousand times before, disappearing beneath his red vest as you scratch against the blond hairs that rest below his bellybutton. Feeling his chest concave as you raise goosebumps against his skin, teasing touches are no match for Enjin’s brute force as he copies you in this dangerous game of cat and mouse. Slender fingers push your shirt up over your chest to reveal your naked breasts to his hungry gaze, completely unbothered that anyone could see you like this. His fellow janitors, his team, barely a few meters away as they settle inside the rowdy dive bar. Other punters could step outside and look down the shrouded alley to see you in such a compromising position, if any of them were to desire that sudden burst of nicotine.

“Fuck, I missed these.” Enjin groans as he massages your breasts in his hands, rough thumbs flicking over your puffy nipples as he turns them into stiff peaks. Circling your darkened areola as he bends his body to latch on, tonguing the sensitive skin before pulling it between his teeth.

You’re desperate now, even more so than when you entered the alleyway in search of him. Following his footsteps as he stepped outside, the throb between your thighs guiding you on your way as you longed to feel him buried back inside you.

“Don’t tease me,” You beg, pathetically tugging at his belt, but the plea falls on deaf ears as he pulls back from your chest with a satisfied smack. The cool evening air dries his spit against your skin, causing you to shiver as Enjin’s hand disappears beneath your skirt to cup your wet heat.

“Fuck,” He groans, palming the sopping material of your panties as you shamelessly grind yourself down on him, “This all for me?”

He asks the question as though there would be anyone else that could make you feel like this, anyone else that would have you standing exposed in a dingy alleyway outside a rowdy dive bar.

“It’s you,” You hum, “Its always you.” And it’s the answer he covets as he hooks his fingers in the hem of your panties to tug them down your thighs in one swift motion.

He’s always so kind and considerate as he helps you step out of them, leaving the fabric dangling daintly around one ankle as he raises your thigh against his hip. Pressing his hard cock against you, and you can feel how desperate he is even through the layers of clothes. Just like Enjin can feel your heartbeat pounding through your clit as his rough trousers catch against it, leaving silvery lines of your slick against his crotch as he grinds against you.

“Look at the mess you’re making,” His voice rumbles, “Barely even touched you.”

“Please, Enjin.” You whine, the sound of his name uttered from your lips is almost enough to have him seeing stars. The desperate lilt to your voice paired with the saccharine look in your eyes is enough to have him tugging at his belt as he tugs his pants down just enough to free his aching cock.

The sight of him is always enough to make your mouth water, licking your bruised lips as you reach out a greedy hand his reflexes are fast enough to bat away.

“Behave,” He responds curtly, as if he isn’t the one that has you in this position.

It’s erotic the way he wraps a palm around himself, rolling his wrist over the bulging tip as he smears pre along the length. Canting his hips forward to drag his cock through your messy folds, disappearing between them as he coats himself in your slick. The moment he nudges your clit has you mewling pathetically, ashamed that someone— a man, no less, has reduced you to this.

But it’s not your fault, it can’t be when he’s built like this. Intimidating tattoos and piercings that mask the warmth hidden beneath them, the way he guards you with such love and care even when his grip against you is lusty.

“If you don’t fuck me now I’m going back inside.” You gamble, knowing all too well that he’d see right through it.

You’d have to rub your clit raw to even come close to feeling the same euphoria Enjin had you feeling with minimal effort. Many nights spent alone touching yourself to the thought of him couldn’t compare to the way his hands felt as they explored your body.

“Liar.” Enjin grinned, pushing the fat tip of his cock against your tight entrance just to watch the way your body keened. A silent gasp from parted lips as you tried to roll your hips to draw him inside, his grip tight against your waist as he held you steady, “Well go on then.”

Enjin knew you weren’t going anywhere, not when your body was crying out so perilously for him. It was always a playful game of who would break first, and he’d always swear blind it was you.

“Watch me— oh, shit.” Your eyes rolled as you felt the blunt tip of his cock breach your tight entrance, his forking veins catch against your spongy inner walls as he moulds your cunt into the shape of him. Creating a delicious friction as he gives you a fleeting moment to adjust to the size, especially with no prep as he presses a lingering peck to your parted lips.

“Yeah?” A smug grin appeared across his cheeks like the cat that got the cream, “Didn’t think so, pretty.”

Enjin set a rough pace, yellow eyes glancing towards the entrance to the alley to check for unwanted voyeurs as he fucked into your pliant body with vigour. Each harsh thrust had his hips snapping against yours, the smack of skin against skin a constant rhythm as you clung to his broad shoulders. Pulling him down into another sloppy kiss to try and mask the desperate moans that poured from your throat, sharp nails digging into his skin as he fucks into you.

“I’ll never get tired of this sloppy pussy,” He whispered against your lips, catching his bottom one between your teeth as you tugged. Drawing a debauched grunt from deep in his chest as your cunt pulses around his cock from his words, pressing your body against the wall with more power as he carried you both towards your bliss.

The messy hairs at the base of his cock tickle your clit with each forward motion, enough to have you seeing stars as he wills your body to cum for him. Pulling back to stare down at you through half-lidded eyes as he snaps his hips, his cockhead kissing your cervix with each thrust as you begin to tremble in his arms. Your leg turns to jelly as you try to keep yourself upright, his body the only thing stopping you from tumbling to the floor.

“I know you’re close, sweetheart.” He croons, “I can feel you squeezing me.”

You are. The coil inside you dangerously close to snapping as he reaches between your bodies to press a calloused thumb against your puffy clit, rubbing messy circles against it as you succumb to the pleasure. Fat pearly tears cling to your lashes as you cry out for him, his name tumbles from your lips as your orgasm crashes over you in harsh waves coming into shore.

“That’s it— good girl,” He feels it before you do, the telltale sign of your climax as your walls begin to pulse around him in a greedy attempt to milk him of his release, “Good fucking girl.”

He doesn’t stop, even when you’re gushing around him as he fucks into you with renewed vigour, hungrily chasing his own release as you will him to cum. Nails drag through the messy hairs at the base of his undercut as you scratch at his scalp. His nose scrunches as he meets his own end, burying hot ropes of cum inside your wet cunt with a groan of your name.

It’s enough that for a few simple moments you can picture yourself somewhere— anywhere else with him. The perfect dream you’ve conjured in your mind as you get to lay together without dealing with the harsh realities that come with fraternising with a Janitor.

You both linger in the alley, Enjin’s face buried in the curve of your neck as he breathes in the scent of you. His tongue peeks out to taste the thin sheen of sweat that coats your skin as you shudder beneath him, your cunt pulses around his spent cock in retaliation.

“Fuck,” He reluctantly pulls out as the mixture of your release follows, leaving silvery strings against his cock while it drools out of you and coats your inner thighs, curving his back to get a better look at the debauched sight, “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Not if the cigarettes don’t get you first.” You grin.

#engine x reader #Enjin x reader #engine smut #Enjin smut #gachiku #gachiakuta Enjin x reader #gachiakuta engine x reader #gachiakuta engine smut #gachiakuta Enjin smut #gachiakuta x reader #gachiakuta smut

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cmncisspnandmore · 5 months

Text

Coming home to you: Captain John Price X Reader

Pairing: Captain John Price X Wife reader

Warnings: Slight OOC John (? maybe??), mentions of dead child, mentions of death, typical COD violence. Sad john.

A/N: This is probably going to either be a mini series, or maybe even a whole series. Im not entirely sure yet, but I cant get Farmer!John Price out of my head. So here it is. This first part kinda gives you a look into what I feel like can happen when missions are tough and John is able to come home to someone he trusts completely, what happens behind the scenes.

Word Count: 2412, On the shorter side, mainly setting the scene. next part will be longer.

You toe off your mud caked boots as you pull your hood off. Droplets of rain fall to the dark hardwood floors. Leaving a small puddle on the floor, a deep sigh leaves your lips as you look down at the mud tracks. You had just washed that this morning, which you wouldn't have done if you had watched the weather and knew that you were going to be getting rain and Gale force winds this afternoon.

But while John was gone, you couldn't bring yourself to watch the News. There was always this dreadful turning in your gut when we tried to watch the News when he was on deployment. The kind of anxiety you feel when someone says they need to talk to you. You remember the first time you watched the News after you and John started dating, he was away on deployment. You had sat down on your small couch in your too small flat, curled up with a cup of coffee, and watched the morning News like always. It wasn't until they announced that a Military Helicopter had been shot out of the sky that you started to panic.

You called John 8 times that morning, begging him to pick up the phone, to tell you he wasn't on the helicopter. But he didn't answer once, it wasn't late that night that he finally called you back. Apologizing profusely for not being able to call you sooner, he spent almost 2 hours on the phone with you that night. Shushing you as you sobbed, telling him how you thought he was dead all day. John was patient with you, he explained it wasn't his helicopter that he and his team were safe. He told you how he couldn't receive cell phone reception until they got back to the base they were working out of, and how he was so sorry you went through that.

From that moment on you promised to never watch the news while he was gone, you would wait for someone to tell you personally that something had happened. Because you never wanted to feel that way again. So now during John's deployments, no matter how long, the Tv in the living room remained off.

“Pretty wet out there huh?” A deep voice rumbles, John's shadowy figure leaning against the wall, his boonie hat pulled down shielding his eyes in the dim lighting of the kitchen.

“Bloody Hell!” you gasp, your hand flying up to your chest. Your eyes wide as you look up from your wet shoes. “You scared the hell outta me!” You scold, desperately trying to keep your smile at bay.

John pushes off the wall, his blue eyes trailing up your body as he takes in your wet clothes and hair. “Just now, I didn't mean to scare ya, Sweetheart,” he smiles as he stands in front of you. His tight fitted gray shirt stretched across his broad chest, as he reached forward, pulling you into his arms. You instinctively wrap your arms around him, pressing your face into the center of his chest.

“I missed you so much…” You mumble into the soft fabric, the scent of tobacco and his cologne flooding your senses. The nagging voice that constantly whispered all the terrible things that could happen while John was away finally quieting, as you held onto him.

“I missed you too,” he murmurs into your hair. “I’m sorry I was gone so long… Things didn’t go as planned…” he clears his throat, as he pulls you a little tighter.

You pull back slightly so you can look at his face, in the dim lighting of the kitchen you can see how tired he is. Deep purple bags under his bright blue eyes, his skin a little paler, his usually well kept beard is longer and in need of a trim. “Is everyone okay? Did.. Did they all make it home?” You whisper, one hand coming up to rest along his cheek, your fingers smoothing down some of his facial hair, trying to tame the too long strands.

“They all made it home Baby, Soap is a little worse for wear but he’ll be okay..” he leans down pressing a kiss to your forehead. You were always so worried about the members of his team, although they were around your age you were more like a Mother Hen to them. Always fussing over them when you got to see them, even Simon allowed you to fiss over him. Price thought it was funny to see the hulking 6 '4 man follow your orders, you had even convinced him a few times to let you tend to a wound under his mask. He had of course only agreed as long as you did it in a private room so no one outside of the team could see his face.

“How were things around here?” Price asks after a moment, pulling you back into him, tucking your head under his chin.

“It went well for the most part. Although I think something fell on one of the fences in the big back pasture on the edge of the property. I had put the sheep out there a few days ago and Mr. Watson showed up a few hours later with Michelle, his little herding dog and a few of our sheep. He said he found them standing outside his fences by his sheep.”

“Well. first thing in the morning we’ll go out and check the fence line, i’m sure this storm is probably going to do some damage,” He mumbles, as the wind howls against the old farm house. The glass panes on the windows rattle as the wind whips around. Leaves and rain swirling across the ground as it pours down.

After a few moments of listening to the rain and wind, you pull away from John. Reluctantly stepping out of his warm embrace, you pull your wet jumper off, leaving you in nothing but a thin t-shirt. The ends of your hair leave small water droplets on the thin fabric. “I didn't make anything for dinner..” you mutter as you glance around the kitchen, trying to mentally take inventory of what you can throw together for him.

“Don't worry about it, Sweetheart, I’m honestly not that hungry,” John says softly, as he takes his boonie hat off. He tosses it onto the table and runs a hand through his hair, it's slightly longer than the last time you saw him. A little on the wild side much like his beard.

“Are you sure?” You ask, brows furrowing. He was thinner than the last time you saw him, of course he was still a force to be reckoned with. To most people they wouldn't be able to tell that he had probably spent the last few weeks in the field, surviving off MRE’s, but you could. You knew John's body better than anyone. You had a habit of studying him while he was home, constantly trying to burn the memory of him into your brain, in case he didn't come home.

“I’m just exhausted, Sweetheart, I was kind of hoping we could head to bed early.. I just.. I just want to hold you,” he scrubs a hand across his beard, blue eyes burning into you. There was something he wasn't telling you about his last mission, but you knew not to pry. He would tell you when he was ready, and if what he needed right now was to hold you then that's what you would give him. Without a moment of hesitation you lock the back door and grab his hand, pulling him towards the stairs.

Even in the dark you could navigate the house with ease, you knew this house better than anyone. Maybe even better than John, with the sheer amount of time you spent cleaning and taking care of the old house while he was away. You did everything in your power to make the house as warm and inviting as possible for when he came back. As you reach the top of the stairs John's hands wrap around your waist. The warmth of his fingers seeping through the fabric of your shirt. He gently guides you towards your room, the door open revealing the spacious bedroom.

It was bigger than the other 2 bedrooms on the second floor, but it was still cozy. The four post bed against the back wall, the bay window on the left that was adorned with soft pillows and fuzzy blankets. A few stacks of books left on the floor, from the last time you sat there and read. The fireplace was stocked with wood and newspaper all ready to be lit. The glass doors open slightly to allow easy access for whoever was to light it. The soft gray duvet laid on the bed, slightly rumpled from where your elderly cat had napped on it during the day. The grumpy old barn cat had decided a few years ago he was going to be an indoor cat.

He had run in one morning and refused to go back out, so now during the day when the sun was out you would often find him lounging on your bed. Basking in the sunlight, until someone came into the room. When night time came around he was often sleeping downstairs on his lavish cat tower you had ordered for him. Soaking up the warmth from the fireplace you usually had lit.

As you walk into the bedroom John quickly releases your waist, crouching down next to the fireplace where he lights the newspaper. After a moment the wood catches and he closes the glass doors, the fire light flickering across his face as he stares into the flames.

“John?” You whisper, coming to stand behind the tall man. Your arms wrap around his waist as you lay your cheek in the space between his shoulder blades.

“Hmm?” John hums quietly, his hands coming to rest over yours.

“I know.. I know you don't like to talk about it..” you pause a moment, “but if you do want to talk about it.. I’m here.”

“I know.. Im..” John fumbles over his words, “I..” his voice cracks.

Your heart breaks as his voice breaks, his shoulders pulling tight as he struggles to contain his emotions. This massive mountain of a man was hurting, and there wasn't anything you could do to help. Your arms tighten around his waist as his breathing grows ragged, his large shoulders shaking slightly as he cries. You don't move, your head resting against his shaking form as you hold him. “Shh… it’s okay… it’s okay…” You whisper, as your own eyes burn with tears.

John has always been calm, cool and collected on the outside. That's what made him a great leader. He was able to compartmentalize in the worst situations. He would never let the members of his team or even his enemies know that something had bothered him. He was ruthless on missions, and straight to the point. He was every bit the hardened soldier he needed to be on the battlefield.

But at home, where he didn't have to be the grumpy superior of his team, he was softer around the edges. He was a man who cared deeply for those close to him. He wasn't a stone wall of impasse, it was here tucked away in the quiet of the countryside that he allowed his walls to come down. He allowed himself to feel the things he locked away while deployed. It was in the soft light of the fire that he showed you the parts of him that enemies would use against him.

John Price was just as much a human as anyone else.

You wanted nothing more than to be able to erase the horrors that plagued him. To chase away all the horrible things he witnessed in the field.t. You stand there for a long while, continuing to whisper soft reassurances to him, your hands pressed flat against his chest as he struggles to pull air into his lungs between sobs. It takes him several minutes to be able to calm down enough to speak again.

“There was a woman… She.. got caught in the crossfire.. She was killed.. Her 6 year old daughter watched. We tried to help her but the girl was just too far gone after everything that happened, when we went back to the small village to look for anything that could give us a clue to where the man we are after went.. I found her.. She was just hanging there…” His voice cracks. “ A 6 year old little girl hung herself after watching her mother die.. And I just keep seeing her hanging there.. So small and lifeless..” He whispers, his voice hoarse as he relives the horrors of finding her.

There's nothing you can say to make him feel better about what happened. There were no magic words that could take it away. There was no way of bringing the little girl back or making the scene erase from his memory. So you just guided him to the bed, having him sit on the edge. Gently pushing his shoulder so he laid on the soft fabric duvet. You climbed over him, curling up into his side, your head resting on his chest as you laid there. Allowing him to hold you against him. His arms wrapped around you, pressing the entire length of your much smaller body against him. The warmth from your body grounding him. John closed his eyes, focusing on the feel of you in his arms.

“I’m sorry, I try not to bring this stuff home.. But I just couldn't stop thinking that maybe I was faster.. If I had gotten there just a moment earlier I could've saved her mom.. And in turn saved her. But I wasn't there in time. I wasn't able to help her..” He whispers.

“It's not your fault.. You didn't pull the trigger, you didn't know she would take her own life.. She was 6.. Not many 6 year olds would do that.. But the kids in those places. In the face of constant war and death… they’re sometimes already too far gone. It's not your fault.” You whisper, pressing a kiss to his chest.

“I know.. I just need some time.”

“Take all the time you need, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

Next: Part 2

Taglist: @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world

#call of duty modern warfare 3 #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty #captain john price #john price #captain price #john price x reader #john x reader #price x reader #Captain price x reader #call of duty x reader #Farmer!Price X reader #Farmer!Price

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bubuslutty · 11 months

Note

omg its me the pec lover 🫣sorry yes 141😭 forgot to put who mwehehehhe

hey anon! thanks for this delicious ask!!

pairing: gn reader x (platonic? romantic? you decide) John Price, Simon Riley, Soap Mactavish, Kyle Garrick

warnings: none

price:

I know for a fact this man has a hairy chest. not TOO hairy. but hairy enough to be ticklish when you lay your cheek on it when he's shirtless.

and he has massive man boobs.

I said what I said.

reader would 100% randomly go up to him, asking for a hug or for comfort. and because price is price, he'll wrap an arm around them, to comfort them.

but what he doesn't expect is them just shoving their face between his pecs and groaning, the sound muffled by the material of his shirt.

and he's just standing there like 🧍‍♀️

and he smells nice, like cologne, soap, his own musk, tobacco sometimes when he's stressed and a hint of sweat.

when reader first ever did it, he almost died of embarrassment and confusion, but quickly got his shit together.

he couldn't even pull them away from him, he didn't really feel like it actually, because it looked like the reader was having a great time.

So now don't be surprised when u catch the captain laying somewhere, trying to take a nap with reader on him, face buried between his pecs, arms straight down their body, and sleeping as if it's the most comfortable position on earth.

ghost:

the first time reader buried their face in Ghost's pecs was in the excuse of a hug. it was easy, really, whining and just falling face first on him. and he didn't mind at first because in his head reader was gonna get up after like a couple of seconds. but they DIDN'T.

and Ghost was confused n lowkey suspicious, so he grabbed them by the back of their shirt, like a baby kitten, with one hand and ripped their face away from his chest.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Nothing" 😇

Ghost simply placed them back on the ground and eyed them up and down, then left.

but reader was on a fucking mission, so anytime they had an opportunity to lay on ghost, they would, be it in the Heli, in hideouts, in the base, anywhere. until ghost has had enough.

"Bloody hell- what do you want?"

"Can I cuddle you on your chest, please? 😔🙏"

ghost just stared at them in complete silence. and when he didn't say anything for a whole minute straight, reader added, "I'll give you 10 quid."

"Keep your money." and he wrapped an arm around their neck and brought them straight to his chest, choking them for a minute.

and reader was in heaven, with their arms wrapped around as much as of him as possible.

"Thanks-"

"Shut up."

Johnny:

soap in my head is already very friendly and pretty physical with the people he cares abt. so it's not an unusual sight to see him hanging out with reader, on a couch, or on a bed, watching a movie on a laptop.

and he loves cuddling when the weather is cold enough, so they'd be tangled in each other, watching whatever movie is playing on the small screen while reader is drawing random patterns on his chest with their finger.

if reader is tired, they'll bury their face in his neck at first, trying to get comfortable and go to sleep. or they'll gradually slide down his body and end up with their face pressed against the swell of his pecs.

"They're soft. like pillows." reader would point out while wiggling around, trying to get comfortable.

"Yeah? they are?" Soap would laugh and puff out his chest, making the reader's head bounce a little and they'll laugh and then whine, "Stop it, I want to sleep."

soap would pat their head, "Use the bed, then."

"Nah, you're way better than a bed."

"Thanks?"

gaz:

when gaz noticed the small obsession reader has with his guy's pecs. he knew he was next.

So he was basically a bit nervous n hot around the collar when he found himself and his guys being squeezed into a car, bullets raining down on them.

and there wasn't enough seats in the thing, so reader had to sit on him, chest to back while shooting out of the window.

"You good?" They shouted above the utter chaos outside as Ghost tried to drive them to safety, with soap screaming at how he should've been the one driving instead.

"Yeah!" Gaz shouted back.

and when they were far enough that gunshots sounded so far away, reader took off their helmet and leaned back against Gaz with a deep sigh.

"You're comfy." They said with their eyes closed.

"Am I?"

"Uhum."

Gaz didn't miss how they would rub the back of their head against his chest, or how they would turn their head to the side and try to bury their face between his pecs, even though it was practically impossible in the tiny space the car had.

but you better believe reader tried anyway.

and the whole time he was flustered, trying to act as normal as possible, squeezing their shoulder once while they sagged against him.

I hope you liked this anon! I tried my best 😋

tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @obiwankenobis-lap @goapgrim @smalldemonlover @silviafantin15 @reveluving @bobastayhigh @originalsimp @h-leigh @gxldyjess @msdrpreist @chaoticevilbakugo @Lacunaanonymoused @whore4dilfs

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aflame4goinghome · 6 months

Text

Antithesis

j.t.k x reader & j.m.k. x reader

part I

summary: You’ve been going out with Josh for a few months now, but his twin brother still hasn’t warmed up to you. Despite your efforts, Jake can’t stand you and he makes sure to tell you every chance he gets. Finally, one night it seems like you’re about to get some answers, but the truth is a lot more complicated than you ever could have hoped.

word count: 4k

warnings: THIS STORY CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI!! swearing, mentions of smoking (tobacco & marijuana), drinking, kissing, sexually implicit language, heavy petting, cheating *kind of* SMUT: semi-public sex, fingering (f. receiving), dirty talk, praise kink if you squint

listen to the official playlist on Spotify here

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“Baby, you almost ready to go?” Josh pokes his head into the threshold of the bathroom from your bedroom with a soft smile.

“Oh, yeah, just another minute,” you reply, putting on the finishing touches of your mascara before turning toward him and slinging your arms around his neck. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in.

“You look breathtaking, as always,” he says with a smirk.

You and Josh have been going out casually for about six months now, but it never got to be very serious. You went on a few dates and had some heated nights together, but his band started its newest tour a month after you met, so the time that you’ve spent together since then has been sparse.

You first met Josh one night while out with your friends at your local bar. You’d gone to get yourself and the other girls another round when you saw him sitting there at the bar next to you. Almost immediately, his honeyed words and sweet smile drew you in. He told the bartender to put your drinks on his tab, you took the drinks to your friends, then you sat down next to him and the two of you got comfortable rather quickly.

You took him home with you that night and you couldn’t seem to forget him after, no matter how hard you tried. He was handsome, sweet, and ridiculously good in bed. You’ve had your fair share of flings over the years, but nothing could compare to him. As you fell asleep that night with his arm draped over your torso, you knew you were done for. Living in Nashville your whole life, you always vowed to never date a musician. You knew that they were wild and unreliable, but damn, this one just trapped you.

Soon after, he embarked on the band’s world tour. You didn’t always hear from him that often, but you never expected to. He called you after a show every once in a while, usually half-drunk and looking for some relief after a stressful day, missing you. You miss him too while he’s gone, but you’re still trying to avoid getting too attached to the idea of him being yours. You knew that he’d eventually get tired of you or find someone else while on the road. But despite never putting a label on it, he’s remained loyal, which surprised you.

After getting home from the European leg of his tour, he invited you to go with him as his date to a Christmas party at his brother’s house. Events like this made you nervous, considering the complicated nature of your relationship, but you could never really find it in you to say no to him. You’re feeling reluctant to go to this party in particular though, and not for the usual reason.

Josh’s twin brother, Jake, hates you. Yes, hate is a strong word, but you are convinced that he absolutely loathes you. You still haven’t been able to figure out why, no matter how hard you tried. You haven’t encountered him that many times, but all of the times you’ve seen him, he would never lay off you. He would question everything you said, scoff at your remarks, and you even caught him glaring once or twice from across the room when he thought you weren’t looking.

After every time, you would ask Josh about it and he would make excuse after excuse. “Oh, I’m sure he’s just having a tough day,” or “Maybe he just misheard you,” or “He’s probably just feeling a bit protective of me.” Whatever the reasons were, you had no interest in entertaining it.

The two of you aren’t even that serious, so you feel no desire to impress his brother. Besides, his younger brother Sam and their best friend and bandmate Danny have both taken quite a liking for you. Screw Jake, you didn’t need his approval anyway. So why were you nervous to go to his house?

You snap out of your daydream and come back to reality, looking up at Josh with a smile. “Thank you, baby. You look quite dashing yourself, you know.”

You’d decided to wear a midi-length black dress with a high slit, pairing it with a pair of black heels. You opted for simple makeup and added red lipstick for the season. It was a simple look, but elegant for a Christmas party. Josh was wearing a pair of khaki pants with a white pullover sweater, adorned with his favorite symbol, and some tan winter boots. His cheeks were rosy from the cold weather, a perfect canvas for the little white dots that decorated his cheekbones. They’re lifted slightly as he smiles at your compliment, revealing a toothy grin.

“You’re an angel. Shall we?” he asks, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“We shall.”

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You both pull into Jake’s driveway and when you notice the lack of cars in front of the house, it becomes clear to you that you’ve arrived early. Great.

Josh turns the car off and gets out to round the car and open your door for you. You smile timidly at him as he takes your hand and helps you out of the car, then laces his fingers with yours and walks you to the porch.

“I promise, you’ll have a great time. Trust me,” he assures you as he knocks a few times on the large mahogany door. Much to your delight, it’s not Jake who opens the door, but Sam.

“Hey guys! Thank god you’re here. Jake thinks he’s running behind so he’s become so insufferable. Come on,” he says, clearly exasperated by his older brother already. The two of you follow Sam into the kitchen where you find Danny standing at the kitchen island, plating an array of cookies and appetizers.

“Oh, hey Josh. Y/N,” he says with a soft smile, then goes back to his task. You turn to your right to see Jake standing at the oven, hastily taking out a roast and placing it on top of the stove with a sigh. When he hears Daniel’s greeting, he turns his head and captures your gaze. You watch his eyes droop a bit as he turns back around, removes his oven mitts, and approaches you.

“Hello, brother. Nice of you to finally join us,” Jake mutters sarcastically, reaching over to grip Josh’s arm and giving it a light smack before turning to you. “Was this one holding you back? Probably takes hours to get ready, doesn’t she?” he jokes, stepping toward you to pull you into a one-armed hug, which is surely a formality. “To no avail, it seems,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, so quietly that only you can hear.

You scoff at him and roll your eyes as he pulls away, and turns around to head back to the oven. He speaks to you both as he walks away, facing away from you. “Would you both prepare the bar? All the booze is out in the garage, I’d like it in here.” Josh looks over at you apologetically then answers, “Yeah, Jake. We’ll go get it.” He takes your hand in his once again and you both walk back to the foyer to step out and grab the drinks.

Josh puts in the code and the garage door slowly rises, revealing the large pile of alcohol on the side wall. As you go to grab a few grocery bags of liquor bottles, Josh takes a pack of beer in each hand, opting to take the heavier stuff.

“I’m sorry about him. That’s just how he is, you know? He’ll warm up to you,” he says, looking at you and trying to gauge your reaction.

“How long does it take to warm up to a person? We’ve been seeing each other since June, Josh. Sam and Danny don’t seem to have any issues with me. So why him?” you ask, feeling frustrated.

Josh lets out a heavy sigh, looking at you with softened eyes. “I don’t know, Y/N. I’m sure he has his reasons. He doesn’t exactly wear his heart on his sleeve. I’ve known him since the womb and I still can’t always figure him out.”

“Well, it’s making me crazy,” you pout. He puts the cases of beer down and walks over to you, wrapping his arms around you and rubbing your shoulders. “I’m sorry, baby. Just ignore him for tonight, okay? I just wanna have a nice night with my girl…” he says, placing his hand on your chin to tilt it up to meet your eyes.

“Fine… but you owe me,” you tease with a smile, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Oh, I’ll make it worth your while, darling, trust me on that,” he replies with a smirk, biting his lip. He leans down to capture your lips in his for a moment, moving his hand from your chin to the back of your neck, pulling you into him. His other hand which was once planted on your waist moves down to grip your bare thigh, exposed by the long slit in your dress. You sigh against his lips as his grip on your thigh tightens, pulling away from him slowly.

“We should get back…” you whisper. “Sorry, I’m just insatiable for you,” he says with a wink before reaching down to grab the beer and turning to walk out of the garage. You quickly follow, pressing the button the shut the door and then returning inside Jake’s house.

When you and Josh return inside, Jake has finished cooking and went upstairs to change into his party attire. The two of you stand around the kitchen island with Sam and Danny, chatting for a while as you wait for Jake to return downstairs in time for the rest of the guests to arrive.

You hear footsteps down the stairs and turn your attention to see Jake waltz back into the room. He’s put on a black button-down shirt, only fastening a few of the buttons on the bottom, leaving his bare chest exposed. An array of silver necklaces sits upon his exposed chest, the coins attached to the chains lying just right against his smooth skin. His wavy brown hair rests almost perfectly on his shoulders, which you notice has grown quite a bit since the last time you saw him. You think for a moment that it suits him, but you quickly shake that thought out of your head.

He’s wearing a pair of simple black dress pants with matching black ankle-length boots, seemingly leather. And of course, he could not go without his dark sunglasses, despite it being nighttime… and winter. Arrogant asshole.

Through the lenses, you panic as you see his eyes find yours. A smirk forms on his face as he finally approaches, and you already know that he’s about to piss you off.

“Didn’t anyone teach you that it’s impolite to stare, sunshine?” Jake says proudly, leaning against the kitchen island awaiting your response.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Jacob,” you scoff, standing up from your seat in the kitchen to go to the bar and make yourself a drink. Your cheeks flush as your back is turned to the rest of the group and you try to shake off the sudden feeling of embarrassment as you reach down to pour some tequila into your glass, topping it off with soda water.

Convinced that your face has finally returned to its natural color, you walk back to the kitchen, retrieve some ice from the freezer, and add it to your glass. You return to the island and stand behind where Josh is seated, placing your hand on his back and rubbing it slightly.

They’re caught up in a conversation regarding their time in the studio a few days back, but your eyes meet Jake’s once again. He takes a sip of his glass of neat whiskey, which he’s seemingly already poured for himself, not taking his eyes off of yours for a second.

What the hell is his problem? It can never just be a simple night, can it? Before you have the chance to question him, the doorbell rings and Jake retreats to open the door and greet his new guests. Perhaps you can catch him later to question him, but for now, you plan to just have a good time.

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The night has gone smoothly so far, despite your concerns. Jake’s stayed out of your way, spending most of the time speaking with some record executives in the living area by the record player, attending to the music once the record ends every once and a while.

You’ve stayed by Josh’s side all evening, standing by the bar talking to Sam and Danny. You’ve already had three tequila sodas in and are luckily feeling much more relaxed. Not only that, but about three drinks in is usually when you start to crave a cigarette or two. So, you excuse yourself from the group and retreat to Jake’s back porch, stopping in the foyer quickly to grab your coat.

You slink out of the back door and sit down on the porch swing, pulling out a pack of American Spirit cigarettes and a black lighter. The porch is lit dimly by a string of lights, extending from the porch to the small garden next to it. The ground is laid with a thin layer of snow, probably only about an inch or two, and the pine trees in his backyard also have little blankets of snow resting upon them. It’s quiet, almost too quiet.

Then, as if the universe heard your thoughts, you hear the door open from your right. Much to your dismay, it’s Jake who walks out of the house onto the porch, with a joint already hanging out of his mouth as his eyes meet yours. He removes his sunglasses and his lips turn upward slightly as he walks over to sit next to you on the swing. You sigh quietly as you put your cigarettes back into your pocket, picking up on his hint and opting to smoke with him instead. What did you have to lose?

You reach up with your lighter still in your hand, lighting the joint between his lips for him. His eyes burn through yours as he inhales for a few moments before removing it from his mouth and blowing the smoke out to the side.

“Needed a break from the festivities, sunshine?” he asks, raising his eyebrow at you with a smirk, offering you a hit. You take it willingly, taking a drag and shaking your head.

“Not necessarily. It’s just about that time of night when I’d want a smoke,” you answer candidly, shrugging a bit before passing the joint back to him.

“Didn’t want your boyfriend to come with you?” he teases, taking a long drag. You roll your eyes at him, leaning back onto the back of the swing as he hands you the joint back and you take another hit.

“He’s not my boyfriend. And no, I just wanted to have a few minutes alone. You can see how well that worked out,” you say, taking one more hit before giving it back. He just looks at you for a moment with a puzzled look on his face, which soon turns back into a smirk.

“Well, who am I to let a lady sit out in the cold by herself?” he says, turning his body toward you more on the seat. His left arm moves to rest on the back of the seat, with his hand gripping the seat behind your head. You’re suddenly very thankful for the dim lighting, which you hope is successfully hiding the newfound pink tint of your cheeks from the proximity.

“What a gentleman,” you say sarcastically, taking a drag of the joint and crossing your legs as you turn your body toward him to mirror him. He takes it from your fingers and puts it out in the ashtray on the table in front of you, then sits back in his original position. The slit on your left leg causes your legs to become much more exposed to the cold, causing you to pull your coat over your legs slightly. To your surprise, Jake moves his right hand from his lap and slides it slowly to rest on your exposed knee, underneath your coat.

“You are cold, I can feel it,” he mutters, moving to sit a bit closer to you, looking down at your knee and then back up to meet your eyes.

“What are you doing?” you ask with a confused look, searching his eyes for any hint of what he’s thinking. You’ve never been this close to him before and for some reason, your immediate reaction wasn’t to pull away.

“I’m warming you up, sunshine…” he answers, his gaze still not breaking away from yours as he moves his hand from your knee to your outer thigh, rubbing it with his thumb.

“Jake, why do you call me that? I don’t get it,” you ask, hoping to finally get some answers about how he feels about you. Now was as good a time as ever. His lips turn up into a cocky smile, even showing a hint of teeth as he formulates a reply.

“Because you light up the sky, Y/N… and I shouldn’t look at you, or else I’ll go blind,” he finally answers, stroking your thigh again with a bit more force this time, causing you to take a deep breath and swallow harshly. “I shouldn’t touch you, or else I’ll get burned.”

Your eyes soften as you look back at him, still trying to wrap your head around what he’s trying to say. Before you have a chance to question him further, he continues.

“So, if I shouldn’t look at you… or touch you… then why do I still desire to?” he says inquisitively, gazing down at your lips for a moment before returning to your eyes. "Never regret thy fall, O Icarus of the fearless flight… For the greatest tragedy of them all, Is never to feel the burning light… Perhaps my own desire will be my downfall, hm?”

Your heart is beating out of your chest as you gaze up at him in shock. “Jake… what are you saying? I thought you hated me…” you say, in almost a whisper now.

“Sunshine, I’ve never hated you,” he answers, moving his hand slightly further up your exposed thigh. “I’ve just been resisting the light… but I’m not afraid to get burned anymore.” Oh. Your mind is spinning, from the combination of alcohol, weed, and hushed confessions.

Before you have the chance to tell yourself that you should take some time to think about this, your body acts without your permission and your lips crash against his. Immediately his hand snakes into your hair on the back of your neck, pulling you into him as his other hand continues to grip your thigh. Both of your hands find themselves tangled in his hair, tugging on it lightly, eliciting a groan from him into your mouth.

He pulls away from you for a moment as he moves his hand toward the inside of your thigh, inching closer to your already aching core. “Can I?...” he asks, and you nod feverishly. His lips find your neck as you lean your head back against the back of the seat, his fingers snaking slowly up the inside of your thigh.

His fingers find the black lace covering your lower lips, which is already soaked through from all the buildup. You feel him smirk against the skin of your neck as he feels the slick between your legs and then moves the fabric to the side. He runs his fingers through your folds, collecting your wetness before sliding one finger inside of you, causing you to gasp quietly.

His thumb rubs small, quick circles around your clit as he moves his pointer finger in and out of you, then inserts a second finger along with it. “Fuck, sunshine, so tight for me. Bet that feels so good, huh? Did you need it bad?” he whispers against your neck, laying wet kisses down to your collarbone. “God, yes, so good. Needed it so bad, Jake,” you mutter, already overwhelmed by the feeling of his lips and hands on you.

“God’s not here. There’s only me,” he says, increasing the speed of his fingers inside you, curling them upward to hit that special spot far back. You feel how close you are now, barely holding on. Your hand is gripping his shoulder hard, your nails digging into him through his shirt.

“That’s it, baby, come on. I know how bad you want it,” he says, kissing his way back up your neck to your chin. “Want you to come all over my fingers while my brother waits for you inside. Bet you look so gorgeous when you come. C’mon, make those pretty sounds for me, sunshine.” You whine, probably a bit louder than you should have, as his fingers finally coax your orgasm out of you. Jake’s lips find yours to muffle the sound of your cries as he works you through it, slipping his tongue into your mouth as you come down from the high.

He pulls away from you, keeping his eyes on you as he slowly removes his fingers from you and brings them up to his mouth, sucking your release off of them with a low groan. His left hand cups your cheek, pulling you closer to him, leaving only a few inches of room between you.

“So fucking perfect for me… Looks like my wings are melting, love. Too late to turn back now,” he says, his eyes glued to yours. “No regrets?”

“No regrets,” you answer, resting your forehead against his, taking a deep breath before pulling away and standing up, walking back toward the door. You turn around for a moment, meeting his gaze and looking at him softly, before heading back inside to find Josh.

You find Josh in the kitchen, standing at the island with Sam. “Hey, baby, I was wondering where you went,” he says, snaking his arm around you.

“Oh, yeah sorry. I just went out for a smoke and got distracted,” you answer with a soft smile.

“Are you tired? We can head out if you want, I’m sure Jake won’t mind,” he asks with a smile. You nod and turn to see Jake walk through the front door; you guess that he went around to the front of the house to not raise any suspicion. Smart.

You both say your goodbyes to everyone before walking to the foyer, leaving Jake for last. Josh hugs his brother and pats his shoulder, then grabs his keys and walks out the front door.

“Goodnight, Jake,” you whisper timidly, looking up at him.

“G’night, sunshine…” he says with a wink, stroking your cheek lightly as you smile at him, then back away and walk past him out the door. Your cheeks are flush as you walk out to Josh’s car, getting in and buckling your seatbelt before he drives off.

“Did you have a good time, sweetheart?” Josh asks, looking over at you for a moment as he drives.

“Yeah. Yeah, I did,” you answer, looking out the window.

You try to think over tonight’s events as you drive down the long and winding road toward your house. Never did you expect Jake to act that way toward you. You had been convinced that he hated you, but all this time he was just… afraid of his desire for you? It still didn’t make sense to you, but you’re fearful of the feelings that your encounter with Jake has brought to light.

He was so different from Josh, in every way. While Josh was sweet, Jake was assertive. While Josh was desirable, Jake was seductive. It was like he cast some sort of spell on you. Jake is the antithesis of Josh. And for some reason, that intrigues you. But now what? Now that you’ve entertained Jake, there’s no way that either of you will be able to resist the temptation of having each other again. God, what have you gotten yourself into?

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read part two here

Leave a reply or send me a message if you want to be added to the taglist! And as always, let me know what you think! I hope you all enjoyed this first chapter!

Our dear reader has a lot of decisions she has to make now, doesn't she? I guess we'll find out in the next chapter ;) see you then

Taglist:

@itsafullmoon @vanfleeter @klarxtr @itsdannysworld @lipstickitty @peaceloveunitygvf @wildmoonworld @ignite-my-fire

#greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka #jakegvf #josh kiszka #joshgvf #jake kiszka x reader #josh kiszka x reader #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fic #greta van fluff #greta van angst #greta van smut #greta van fleet smut

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gamergoddess003 · 7 months

Text

Stoner Daryl

Summary: Y/n is new to Alexandria and meets Daryl. She thinks Daryl is attractive as soon as she sees him. Daryl invites her over to smoke and he finds himself thinking she is cute.

Warnings: Use of marijuana and tobacco, cussing, p in v, oral female receiving, grinding, a little fluff.

Note: Daryl is mid 40s and the reader is mid 20s. Pre-saviors.

Another note: If you are reading for the cute Daryl stoner part, I’ll mark where you can skip the smut part of the story with a red line. The ending has more stoner and fluff.

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Being new to Alexandria, y/n didn’t really know anyone. She stuck around Rosita for the first few days because Rosita was the one who found her and brought her here.

Sitting on the front porch of Rosita and Abraham’s house, y/n and Rosita talked about random things that came to mind. Y/n looked over towards the gates and saw a man ride in on a motorcycle.

“Who’s that?” Y/n asked.

“That’s Daryl. He’s been out on a run for a week. He likes to go out by himself. He actually lives across the street.”

Daryl rode his motorcycle into his driveway and got off. He looks over and sees Rosita waving at him and he waves back then went inside.

Rosita looks over at y/n and sees that her face is starting to blush a little bit. She asked if she was alright and y/n slowly looked up at Rosita and said,

“Uhh.. I.. I haven’t seen a man so.. I donno.”

Rosita smiled and looked at y/n with the face of that she knows what y/n was trying to say. Hearing Daryl come out of his house, Rosita called him over. Y/n looked at Rosita with wide eyes, then looked at Daryl walk up. He was even more attractive up close.

As Rosita introduced y/n to Daryl, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. He held out the pack to y/n and she took a cigarette and lit one too.

“That shit stinks. I’m going inside.” Rosita complained and then left.

It was awkward silence for a moment and then Daryl sat on the front step on the porch. He didn’t have that much to say but he did ask questions to get to know her a little bit.

They talked for about 15 minutes and within that time, y/n got more comfortable talking to him and told him that she used to smoke weed before the fall and that she hasn’t been able to smoke since then.

Daryl looked at her for a moment and asked her if she wanted to smoke. She accepted the offer and they both walked to Daryl’s house. Apparently Daryl lives in the basement.

Y/n sat on the couch and Daryl walked over to his dresser and pulled out a tray, a jar of weed, and some papers that he uses to roll joints and cigarettes when he couldn’t find any. He sat next to her on the couch and went on to start breaking down some nugs of weed. Y/n picked up a bright green nug. She smelled it and let out a sigh with a smile.

“Mmmmm.. I haven’t smelled weed in so long. My mouth is watering.” She chuckled.

Daryl looked at her and smiled and huffed a laugh through his nose. He decided to let her get the first hit and handed her a joint and a lighter.

Since it at been so long that she smoked weed, it didn’t take her much to get high. She was so high that she really came out of her shell and wouldn’t stop talking.

Daryl sat and listened and started to realize that he found her cute. He didn’t know what to do at first because it’s been a while since he felt that way, so he left to go upstairs to get some water.

When he sat back down, he sat closer to her, making his leg press against hers. She looked away, feeling all types of butterflies in her stomach and took a deep breath.

He leaned back and stretched his arm across the back of the couch. Y/n didn’t notice that he did that and when she leaned back, she felt his bicep touching the back of her neck. Looking over at Daryl, her eyes met with his and they sat in silence. His eyes lowered down to her lips and back up at her eyes.

Y/n licked her lips which made him look at her lips again. He slowly leaned in and placed a light kiss on her lips then slowly broke the kiss, backing away only inches from her face. She looked in his eyes and smiled. Daryl wrapped his arm around her pulling her closer and kissed her again, but this time it lasted longer.

Drowning in their kiss, y/n reached her hand up and placed it on his jawline.

___

With his other hand, he placed it on her thigh and it made shivers go down her spine. She wanted him.

She stuck her tongue out a little, making it touch his lips. He smiled into the kiss and proceeded stick his tongue all the way in her mouth and moved it around her’s. While he passionately made out with her, his hand moved to the inside of her thigh and squeezed it (not too hard), making her arch her back.

Daryl sat back and y/n climbed on top of him. Whilst continuing their kiss, she slowly moved her hips around, grinding on him. He slid his hands under her shirt, feeling the soft skin of her back on his rough hands. He pulled the shirt up and over her head then went on to unhook her bra, revealing her breasts.

Daryl let out a deep breath and grabbed her ass, picking her up. He walked over and laid her on his bed, then started to kiss her again. He migrated his kiss down her jaw, neck, then onto her chest. With one hand, he grabbed one breast and kissed the other one.

The feel of his beard and lips and the warmth of his breath touching her bare chest sent tingles with down her spine and she arched her back. Daryl stuck out his tongue and traced it down her stomach and kissed her lower belly, right above her pants. He stood up some and started to unbutton her jeans.

Slipping off her jeans and panties, he proceeded to take off his vest and unbuttoned his shirt and tossed them on the bed. He knelt down on the floor putting his face between her legs.

Y/n sat up on her elbows and looked at him being so close to her private area. Seeing her face, he smirked and kissed the inside of her thigh, making his way closer to her core. His breath was warm as he hovered his mouth close, and he looked up at her for approval. Not stopping him, he pecked a kiss on her clit and the feeling made her lay back. He chuckled a warm-breathed laugh on her and sunk his tongue between her folds.

She quickly took a deep breath and let out a soft, long moan.

“Mmmm it’s been so long.” Y/n moaned.

He wrapped his arms around her thighs because she kept squirming. How could she not squirm when Daryl has his tongue deep inside her pussy, making her heart race from the adrenaline.

When Daryl was done eating her cunt, making it sloppy wet, he stood up, unbuckled his belt, and pulled his pants down to his ankles. He leaned over y/n and looked her right in the eyes, and started to trace circles with his cock all in her wetness.

Y/n gasped as he slipped the head of his dick inside her and let out a moan as he pushed the rest of his long, girthy cock deep inside her.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” Daryl said as he slid inside.

After a moment of being still, he was looking at the expression on her face and it pleased him to know she was in bliss because of him. He moved in and out of her slowly so she could get used to his size.

Speeding up the pace, he ended up having to cover y/n’s mouth to muffle her loud moans of pleasure.

“Ohhh Daryl, I’m about to cum!” She moaned into his hand.

Daryl slammed into her harder and she filled up with her gooey orgasm, soaking Daryl’s cock. The feel of her warm wetness made Daryl reach his climax. He pulled out and ejaculated in the basket of dirty clothes next to the bed.

Y/n laid on the bed for a moment and then asked for something to clean herself with. Daryl pulled up his pants and walked upstairs, shirtless, to get a towel.

Carol was standing in the kitchen and saw Daryl come from the direction of his room and into the bathroom, exiting with a towel in his hand. He saw her in his peripheral and looked at her. He stood there like he was a deer caught in the headlights. Carol raised an eyebrow and Daryl blinked then went back downstairs.

“That was awkward.” He thought to himself as he walked down the stairs.

Daryl handed y/n the towel.

___

As she cleaned herself up and got dressed, he sat on the couch, still shirtless, and rolled another joint. When he looked up, he noticed that y/n was standing there and was wearing only her panties and the shirt he wore that day, which was thrown on the bed next to her. (The vest felt too big and was uncomfortable because of the leather.)

He smiled at her. He thought she was cute with her slightly messy hair and wearing his shirt.

He lit the joint and walked over to the bed and sat against his pillow and the headboard. Y/n crawled up in bed next to him and laid down. Daryl passed her the joint and moved to position himself on the bed next to her, pulling the blanket over the both of them.

Exhausted from the sexual activity between her and Daryl, and smoking another joint, y/n got tired. She fell asleep cuddled next to Daryl. Daryl couldn’t sleep though. He laid there with his arm around her and she had her head and hand on his chest, and he reminisced in his thoughts.

(The next day)

Y/n was standing in the kitchen of the house she stayed in with Rosita, making something for lunch. Rosita walks in and looks at y/n.

“Where were you last night? I never saw you come back in.” Rosita asks.

“I was at Daryl’s. We smoked and I... I got..tired.. and fell asleep..”

“Are you sure that all that happened? You paused for a second.”

“Wellll…….” Y/n says as she looks away then back at Rosita.

“I’ve just never known Daryl to be an intimate kind of person. He’s usually quiet and keeps to himself.” Rosita exclaims.

Y/n huffed a laugh out of her nose with a smirk and says,

“Quiet guys fuck the hardest.”

#stoner daryl dixon #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl dixion x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl smut #daryl dixon fluff #norman reedus

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thesmokingguns · 3 months

Text

25 Hours a Day w/ Izzy Stradlin

Minors DNI 18+

“Want to go somewhere quieter?” His eyes were dark in the dim lighting of the bar. All onyx gleam against mine as he waited for my reply.

The world got quiet for a second as heat flooded my cheeks as I nodded your head, watching him stare for a second too long before closing out the tab, slipping his hand on my lower back as you stood up ready to go.

Izzy smelled like the woods after the rain, the wet pine and forgotten secrets mixed with the harder edge of city life, whiskey and tobacco, making him so distinct. You were wrapped in the scent of him as he guided you through the crowd towards where he had parked the 60’s Chevelle in a glossy black that must have cost a fortune.

Not that izzy seemed to bat an eye about money, it was just another thing he had.

A chill racked your spine, his thumb pressing into the bones, running it up and down as he opened the passenger door for you, leaning in as you bent to get in.

“Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up soon.”

He was shutting the door for you, moving to the drivers side before you could gasp or call him out for what he had just said to you. His words leaving you with your mouth gasping like a fish out of water.

This was only my first date with him, despite this strange feeling that I knew him from somewhere. A memory just scratching at the surface but I hadn’t been able to bring it to the top yet.

I was aware he was driving me to his place, unsure if I should say something to him about it but feeling the nervous energy pulsing through your body, tingling you between your legs as my clit swelled with need and the damp desire flooded the silk panties I had slid on earlier today.

That same sense of will he see them now making my heartbeat wildly?

Izzy reached over, his veiny hand laying on my knee, a collection of cool silver rings chilling my skin as he turned his palm, walking his fingers up the flesh of my thigh as a shattered gasp of shocked want filled the air. A terror filled me as I realized that pant of want had escaped my lips. It was my needy sounds in the car.

“It’s okay, violet.” My eyes went from where he was resting his hand high on your thighs. HIs fingers lazily stroking with a surety that you weren’t sure existed in a bone of your body.

Violet? That wasn’t my name.

“On your lower back you have a birthmark, all violet in color and looking as soft as the petals of a flower.” He explained the nickname when he saw your confusion, my blush rising as I wondered how he knew about the spot that would only be clear in your swimsuits.

Sure I had spent time at the pool but that had been during the summer, weeks ago now that autumn had fully settled its dry bones over Indiana. Plus Izzy had been in LA, only visiting home recently to visit his family.

How could he have seen it?

But that information he didn’t volunteer to me with words. Instead he looked at me at the redlight, unafraid to make me wiggle uncomfortable in his gaze. He knew his effect on people and still didn’t care. He watched me in a way that was familiar, like his eyes had been on me for months and now you just realized all those times your hair had stood on end, looking around to see who caused me the feeling, was in front of me.

He smirked as he watched me swallow, his left hand moving to cup my jaw, thumb pressing where I had swallowed and trailing it down.

“Do you know how gorgeous you are?” The whisper was raspy with need and your eyes widened at the way he was affected by you.

As quick as he was on me he was off, pressing the gas as he squeezed my thigh, roaring down the street and getting closer to his house.

Everyone in our hometown knew where Izzy Stradlin lived. It was an old colonial style with so much land that you couldn’t even see it from the road. The wrought iron gates had been snuck over by local kids trying to get a glimpse of their celebrity. It had gotten to a point that Izzy hired a guard, who was currently opening the gates for the two of you to drive in.

Izzy nodded at the man as he drove down the drive, turning around the circular drive as he parked the car in front of the house, giving my thigh one more squeeze before jumping out and striding confidently to my side and pulling open the door for me.

“Before you come in, little violet, I’m going to give you a chance to back out of this.” I looked at him, shivering as leaves made sounds of bones tumbling in the wind. Autumn was craving to be winter. “I’ll drive you back to your house. Or you can come in and spend the night with me. I’m warning you. Think about this because I’m not sure I’m going to be able to let you go after one night. You might have found yourself well and truly fucked, little violet.”

Blinking I felt my heart speed up. Izzy was 29, eight years older than me. We hadn’t known each other in school and didn’t have mutual friends. Us meeting had been strange. He had walked into my job at the law firm, where I did clerical work with some guy my mom had dated at one point, and asked if I would have dinner with him. When I had blinked, confused he had gone on giving me a time and asking me my address, which I gave to him without thinking.

Sure enough at 6:55 my mother was yelling at me that he was here, her energy as excited as mine. My mother had me when she was 16 which made us close in a way that all our friends had always been jealous of.

When I walked down the stairs, wearing the slinky back top that tied in the back and tiny little denim skirt with strappy heels I had stolen from her closet she had told me to call her if I wasn’t coming home, making me burn like the sun as I threw open the door as Izzy walked up to meet me.

His eyes had widened as he stole a final drag of his cigarette, the cherry at the end burning as bright as his eyes as he looked at me as if I was the first girl he had ever seen. But he recovered quickly, holding out his hand as he helped me into his car and whisking me off to dinner and drinks.

And now I was in front of his house having to make a choice if I wanted to sleep with him tonight; I knew that was what was going to happen if I went inside with him.

“Can I use your phone?” he blinked, confused before smirking, recovering as he nodded his head, helping me inside his house.

I slid off the wool jacket I was wearing, letting Izzy take it as he motioned to where the phone was in the hall and mentioning he was going to go get us drinks.

Calling home my mother reminded me to have fun, knowing that she had taught me my whole life how to be safe. It was the fun part that she thought I didn't have enough of.

Slipping from my heels I groaned a soft sense of freedom as I returned to my height. Bare feet on cool wood floors quietly moved around until I was in the soft glow of a fire, watching Izzy carefully stroke it as warmth filled the room.

As a log cracked his eyes lifted from the flames to me, pausing as if he just remembered I was there with him and he wasn’t alone. The look was enough to make me dizzy with need as I moved into the living room further as he set down the poker, stepping to meet me.

His arms fit around my body in a way that felt like we had done this a thousand times before and not just tonight.

“You’re staying?” I nodded, my tongue suddenly heavy as I watched the way his lips lifted in the barest of smirks, “I’m going to kiss you now, little violet.” His fingers pushed back my hair as he got closer, not breaking eye contact with me, “And when I kiss you, everything is going to change.”

Before I could ask when he meant he was pushing a palm into my lower back to bring us flush together, his left hand tilting my chin up and cupping my cheek as he pressed his lips against mine in a possessive dominance that made my toes curl.

My hands slid up, over the black button down he had worn to clasp behind his neck, pushing myself up as I opened my lips, deepening the kiss that we were sharing. Heart thundering as Izzy’s tongue dragged along mine, our tastes becoming something new. Something that was distinctively ours.

It was delicious.

All at once it wasn’t enough, I needed more of him.

“We have a lifetime, little violet.” he warned as I pushed my hips against his , feeling the hardness he had for me.

“I want to start my lifetime now.” Izzy’s eyes flashed in desire before he was swooping me up, letting me wrap my arms around his waist as he spun us towards the couch in front of the fire, laying me down on the leather.

His body over me as he pushed against me, making me groan in need as I pushed up against him as he kissed me, claiming me and needing me. Our hips grinding against each other. Just his pants and my panties as a barrier.

But Izzy made quick work of all that, leaving us breathless and naked between kisses as his cock jutted, hard and leaking dots of precum that had me hungry for his cock. I wanted to taste him instead of letting it go to waste.

“I don’t want a barrier between us.” I should have told him that he needed to wear a condom but I didn’t want a barrier either. I wanted all of him. I wanted to see the way my body coated him with my wetness, to see how he looked covered in me.

“I’m on the pill.” He nodded, pushing the head into me as I felt the way my lips parted, hands searching for something to gasp as I looked down.

Both of us were staring, watching the place between my legs where our two bodies were joining together. Inch by inch he claimed me, pulling out to watch the way I made his cock glisten with my cum before burying himself back inside of me. Both of us are entranced by the beauty of our two bodies together.

“Fuck.” Hearing him moan for me made me look up from where our desire was fueled and to his face. The way he watched my body, how he looked like I was his euphoria. It made my stomach knot with need.

Reaching out, I stroked his cheek, his eyes flashing up as he looked at me, Izzy was lost in me. His eyes not holding that calm collectiveness that he had displayed. He was losing himself and it was because of me.

Tugging his hair I pulled his lips to mine, sitting up as I slid him deeper inside of me,rolling his hips so that he could get deeper inside of me. Filling me in a way that had me so full I wasn’t sure I would be able to walk after this.

He wasn’t even going that fast or hard, taking it easy as if each second he was inside of me was a time that needed to be savored and appreciated. He was engrossed with me, so wrapped up as we panted, letting out sounds that I hadn’t know were possible against each others lips as we moved together to music that our bodies were performing.

“You’re perfect, little violet.” His thumb stroked the birthmark I had always been embarrassed about, turning my feelings into something beautiful. Making something I hadn’t been happy about into something beautiful for me.

I was so close, Izzy seemed to sense my buildup. He pulled from our kiss, eyes on my face like he didn’t want to miss a moment of pleasure between us.

“Let go for me. Let me see the way you look when you come on my cock for me. Let me see you, little violet.” His words rattled me as I wanted to do it, wanted to have him watch me as I shattered apart for him.

My orgasm burst between us, his eyes widening in primal need as his hands gripped my hips, thrusting deeper, harder as he fucked me through my orgasm, letting me collapse against his couch as he covered me, chasing his own moment

“Izzy, fuck!” I cried out for him as my toes curled, a second orgasm shattering me and blinding my vision with tears.

“Yes, say my name again.”

“IZZY!” I cried out for him as I felt him, the warm thick feeling of being filled with ropes of cum as his cock rutted it deep inside of me, filling me with him before he laid against me, supporting most of his weight on his forearms as he tried to remember how to breathe.

The world was quiet chaos of crackling logs and breaths that shook our chests.

“I’ve been waiting months for you.” his lips kissed my collarbone as I tried to make sense of what he was saying to me, “Months of watching you just trying to be ready for you. I knew you were a hurricane. I just had to get ready for the storm.” His lips slid down as he kissed my stomach, my head heavy as I tried to make sense of what he was saying. “Lets get you showered. I need to take you again, little violet. I want to make love to you twenty five hours a day.” My heart finally threw its opinion out there. Taking over for my brain who wanted to live and my vagina who wanted him.

My heart knew we were well and truly fucked.

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