#//IT'S STUCK IN MY HEAD THANKS GHOST GAME | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lokis-army-77 · 7 months ago

Text

Game over

gamer!sub!Eddie Munson x dom!fem reader

Word Count: 2.4k

All you want after a long day at work is your boyfriend. With his nose stuck in a video game, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

Warning: 18 +. Pegging, sub eddie (kinda implied switch at the end?) dom reader, hand job, mommy kink, implied aftercare

Thank you to my beta readers <3 @munson-blurbs. and @lofaewrites

Masterlist

The stairs to the trailer creaked as you bounded up them and straight inside, the metal storm door closing behind you with a loud bang.

"Babe?" You hear Eddie’s faint call from his room down the hall.

"Yeah, it's me!" You yell, setting your bag down on the kitchen counter, practically skipping to his room.

When you cross the threshold, Eddie is perched on the edge of his bed, legs spread, elbows resting on his knees and a Playstation controller clutched in his hands. He glances at you, then back to his game, fingers moving toggles and pressing buttons furiously.

You walk over to him and lean down, kissing him on the lips quickly before falling back on the bed.

"How are you, sweetheart?"

"Better now that I'm here. I hate working on Saturdays."

"I know, baby, but you're here with me now." He places a large, warm hand on your thigh and squeezes before returning to the controller.

"Humph..." You hum in response.

A quiet sigh leaves your lips when you stretch out over the well-used mattress. "Lay down with me." You tug on his arm.

"Not right now, baby, let me finish this quest first, okay? Then I'll lay down." Eddie doesn't even turn to you as he speaks, his eyes completely glued to the screen.

You huff in disappointment but curl up next to him, closing your eyes. Then, after a few minutes, an idea popped into your head.

Rolling over, you get onto your hands and knees and crawl around behind Eddie.

"What are you doing?" He laughs.

"Just want a hug s'all." You slot yourself around him. Chest to back, legs on either side of his, and your arms coming to squeeze around his stomach.

Eddie pauses for a second, taking his hand and rubbing yours. He’s warm against you, it’s radiating from him, comforting you. You can hear his heart beating as your ear presses against his strong, wide back.

He is completely unaware of what you are fixing to do, which puts a wicked smile on your face. Snuggling in closer to him, the scent of cigarettes and old spice filled your nose. Slowly, you let one hand drift down further. Eddie tenses but says nothing.

You keep going.

Your fingertips ghost over the elastic band of his grey sweatpants. A puff of air exits your nose in a stifled giggle as you pull the strings playfully.

"Baby-" Eddie sounds breathless.

"Yeah?" You ask innocently.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing-" You hum. Trying not to laugh as you begin to slip your fingers under the band. Eddie gives a shocked gasp when your hand comes to rest over his cock, still covered by his boxers.

"Babe, not right now, I'm doing something,” he all but whines.

"Keep doing what you're doing, Eds, don't mind me." You squeeze his cock gently. The sharp intake of breath he took had a warmth spreading through you. His cock hardens under your touch.

"Fuck. Please, just let me finish this part."

You shake your head, palming him through the boxers. "You can finish it, I'm not stopping you, baby."

He mumbles your name weakly. You give him a firmer squeeze.

"Now Eddie, you know that's not what you're supposed to call me,” you tut.

"Fuck," he breathes shakily. "Mommy, please."

You smile as he reluctantly says the name. "That's a good boy."

You trace your fingers up the quickly hardening form of his cock then you move them under the elastic of his boxers, touching the soft, warm skin and coarse hairs. You use your other hand to push back the piece of clothing that confined him, pulling him out, and letting the waistband of both sweatpants and boxers rest under his balls.

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath between his teeth when the cold air of his room hits the hot head of his cock.

You rest your forehead against him and just feel. The weight of him in your hand, the erratic beat of his heart, the in and out motion of his tummy as he took each breath.

Taking him up into your hand you give him two rough tugs. "Spit for me." You raise your hand and Eddie whimpers, leaning his head down to let a glob of spit fall into your open palm.

"Good boy." You praise him, kissing his clothed shoulder. You take his cock back up, smearing it with his spit, making him slick.

Eddie's whimpers accompanied the quick shucking sounds. Leaning around to look at his face, he had his eyes shut tight.

"Now, Eddie, open your eyes. How can you play your game with them closed?"

He struggles to open them and it takes a few more seconds for him to start using his controller, but he does eventually.

You move your hand more, smoothing your thumb over the head of his cock. It’s wet there, but not from spit; from the bead of pre-cum seeping out.

Eddie’s hips buck up in your hand and you take it away quickly. "Don't be greedy, baby."

"M'sorry mommy," he heaves, trying to keep his voice steady.

You kiss his back in response, your other hand finding a home under his shirt, nails scratching gently over his abdomen.

The ripple of his muscles has you humming. He’s struggling to keep it together and you’re enjoying every moment of it.

With a firm grasp, you start up again. The speed of your pulls starts slow and then gets faster. Every time Eddie squirms under you, you slow down again. His body shakes against yours, his legs and abs tense as he tries to obey.

"You're doing so good," you praise him.

Taking the hand that was on his abdomen, you run it down until it rests on the head of his cock. Slowly you circle your thumb over the slit, pulling a choked gasp from the man.

The sounds of his strangled moans and whimpers have wetness seeping into your panties.

"Please, it feels so good." His voice cracks, wavering in pleasure.

"Yeah, baby? Mommy's making you feel good?"

"Mhm." He nods furiously. "Can't focus anymore."

The controller shakes in his grasp and you finally give in. "Okay, baby, you can stop playing your game."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." He flings the controller back behind you on the bed in an instant. His body relaxes only a little as the added stress of trying to play the game is lifted only for him to tense up again when the hand on his head moves to cup his balls.

"God, I'm gonna cum."

You shake your head. "No, you aren't. Not until I say so." You roll his balls between your fingers delicately as you tug his cock faster.

"Fuck, please, Mommy." He cries.

"Please, Mommy, what?" You continue your assault on him, planting open-mouthed kisses along his back.

"Please, can I cum?" His hands fist the sheets on either side of your legs, knuckles white from the force.

"Hum.." You pretend to think. "Not yet, baby, want you to hold it."

He shakes his head, swishing around his face. "No, please, no. I'll do anything if you let me cum."

"Anything?" You grin.

"Yes, anything."

"Why don't you let Mommy use her strap? Hum?"

"God, yes." He moans loudly into the open air of the bedroom.

You smirk. "That’s the answer I was looking for." You give him a few more rapid strokes. “You may cum now.”

Eddie makes a choked noise from the back of his throat and in an instant, he is letting go. White ropes of cum cover your hand and create a mess on the front of his shirt and pants.

"That's a good boy, making a mess of my hand," you chuckle.

Bringing your covered hand to your mouth, you lick. "Mmm. You always taste so good."

Eddie’s body is slumped against yours as he comes down from his high. You struggle to push yourself out from under him. Once you have, you throw yourself over the edge of the mattress to rummage under the bed.

You breathe a satisfied huff when your fingers graze the box you were looking for.

Pulling it out, you open the lid to reveal the bright purple dildo nestled snugly in its strap ready to go. Lifting it out you looked at Eddie, who had pushed himself up the bed some and was watching closely.

"Are you ready, baby?" You ask.

Eddie nods, turning himself onto his stomach without having to be told.

Standing, you give his ass a good pat before pulling his sweatpants and boxers down his legs. "Such a good boy for Mommy, Eddie. After this I'll let you eat me out as a reward, how's that sound?"

"Sounds so good, Mommy."

It takes a moment for you to take your clothes off and secure the strap. As you do, Eddie also rids himself of his shirt, tossing it to the floor.

Standing behind him you reach for his hips, pushing him onto his knees. With his ass now up in the air, you nestled up to him. The tube of lube you had also grabbed from the box, presses into your leg before you grab it and squirt a generous amount onto your fingers.

A shiver runs up Eddie's spine at the cool feeling of the lube as you smooth it around his hole.

His whimpers were like music to your ears. The soft, almost quiet volume of them warmed your chest as you pushed a finger into him.

"Ah, fuck." He squeezes around your finger, burying his fists into the sheets.

“Feel good?” You ask as you gently pump your digit.

Eddie nods. His hair is hiding if face from you, reaching over him you brush the strands away. You’ve barely begun and his expression is just so fucked out. His brows furrow and his mouth is hanging open as he lets out silent moans.

You keep a slow and steady pace until he feels stretched out enough to add another finger. Your other hand traces lines up and down the expanse of his back. Goosebumps rise in the wake of the delicate touches.

Eddie lets out a desperate whine as he looks back at you. “Please- please, I need more, Mommy.”

Tilting your head and raising your eyebrows, you motion for him to go on.

He huffs into the sheets before speaking again. “Want your cock. Need it.”

You pull your fingers away from him and watch as his hole gapes slightly for you. “That’s just what I wanted to hear.”

Repositioning, you align the firm, silicone dildo to his entrance, taking the time to reapply the lube. Eddie rocks back on his knees slightly and as he does so, the tip of the toy glides over his waiting hole.

“Easy there, sweet boy. Don’t get too eager or I’ll stop.” Your hand stings as you give a sharp spank to his ass, emphasizing what you’ve said.

Eddie grunts, frustrated but settles with his back arching for you.

With gentle movements, you begin to push the lube-slicked toy into him. You imagine if you could feel him stretching around the fake cock, that he would be tight, squeezing the absolute life out of you as wanton moans erupt from him.

“Doin’ so good,” you praise. Eddie takes you easily enough as you slot yourself to the hilt in a matter of seconds.

Wasting no time, you grip his hips, holding him firmly as you start to thrust. Sweet, wet sounds begin to fill the room as you fuck your boyfriend. His whimpers accompany the rhythmic slapping sounds of skin on skin.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Eddie cries into the sheets below, body writhing.

You praise him gently, letting him know how well he’s doing for you, how good he is for taking your cock. Tracing your nails over his back, you feel him shudder. You begin to trail your hand down and around to his chest before reaching his wanting cock.

When you wrap your hand around his length, milking him, he tenses. “It’s alright Ed’s, Mommy’s got you.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not gonna last-” a breathless moan flies from his lips.

“Just a little longer, baby, be good for mommy and maybe she’ll give you a treat.” Your hips rut faster, in and out, in and out. Eddie’s moans are almost so loud you think the neighboring trailers will hear. But that’s okay, you want them to know how you make him feel, how he begs you for his release like the good boy he is.

Eddie arches his back and spreads his legs even wider, giving you a better angle to pound into him.

“Mommy,” he cries and you just shush him.

“Mommy- umph,” Eddie’s hand reaches back to hold the one you have still resting on his hip. With intertwined fingers lean over him and kiss his sweat-dampened skin.

Your tongue slips from between parched lips to taste the saltiness of him. You lick a long, wet stripe over his spine. “I want you to cum for me, baby. Can you be a good boy and do that for me?”

Eddie whines, high-pitched and long as his body tenses under your touch. Your hand tugs at his cock faster. You begin to trace your tongue along his neck, resting your lips against his smooth skin.

His breathing is ragged and his body trembling. His hips buck down into your hand before he’s thrusting himself back. Releasing a cry of pleasure as you bring him to the edge and then over.

You sit back on your knees, slowly removing yourself from him. Taking time to admire the mess you've made to your boyfriend, your eyes trace over the curve of his ass to the heaving of his chest. He looks delicious, so much so, you want to devour him again, but there will be time enough for that later.

Eddie slowly falls to one side, catching his breath. “That was so fucking good.”

You smile, all tooth and rosy-cheeked. “Was it?”

He leans closer to you, pulling you in for a kiss as he mummers, “Always is.”

The kiss is deep and slow, more passionate than what you had both just finished doing.

“When’s it gonna be my turn to fuck you like that?” He asks.

You push him away playfully. “Let's get you clean up and then we’ll talk.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #female reader #sub eddie munson #dom reader

728 notes · View notes

thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year ago

Text

pleasant pile of pillows

kinktober, day eighteen

warnings: brother's best friend!james potter x reader, smut, secret relationship, cuddling, corruption kink, pillow humping, dry humping

word count: 714

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

Blinking up at the door as you heard three soft knocks resonate, the visage of James’ face poking in couldn’t help but send butterflies soaring throughout your stomach.

“Hey, may I come in?”

Hoping that your eyes weren’t too red and puffy, “sure,” you slowly unfurled yourself from the pleasant pile of pillows on your bed.

Closing the door gingerly behind him, he then sat down next to you, “I come bearing gifts,” and conjured a small, red lollipop from his pocket.

Exhausted smile blossoming upon your lips, you grasped the sucker, “thank you.”

“Are you okay?” he asked as you unwrapped the candy and popped it into your mouth.

“Yeah…” you picked up one of the numerous pillows and clutched it to your chest, “I’m really sorry about crying back there, I just can’t stand it when my brother talks to me like that, like I’m just a child… I’m only two years younger than him, but somehow, he thinks I stopped ageing after the age of ten.”

“Hey, I get it,” he attempted to catch your gaze, “if I had a brother who talked to me the same way, then I’d probably cry too.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” a soft giggle bubbled out of you.

“I most certainly would! Like a baby!” his chuckle mixed and mingled with yours for but a second before he offered tenderly, “I’ll talk to him-”

“No, please don’t,” you reached out and grazed his forearm, “because then it’ll just seem like you-”

“I what?” he raised his eyebrows challengingly, “like you?”

Letting out a low exhale as a shiver promptly ran down your spine, “you know he would hate you if he found out you saw me as more than just his little sister, right?”

Reaching out his fingers, he gingerly grasped the stick that stuck out from between your lips, “I don’t care,” eyes locked on your mouth, he slowly retraced the lollipop, only to push it back inside. You were none the wiser to how lewd the motion appeared, simply blinked back at him, solely fixated on the declaration he’d just uttered. Bottom lip lightly encaptured between his teeth, he let go of the sucker and redirected his gaze up to your eyes, “can I stay here while you rest?” his tender touch descended down your arm till his fingers weaved with your own.

With a light nod of your head, “please,” you wrapped your arms around his neck in a warm hug.

Sloping back down onto the mattress, James intuitively slotted in behind you, one arm draped over your waist.

“What if he notices you’re gone?” you asked nervously, wiggling slightly to get more comfortable, the leg you weren’t lying on consequently flinging gently over the firm pillow sprawled out directly in front of it on the bed.

“He’s knee-deep in some annoying boss battle in the game he’s trying to beat,” James’ hand ghosted over your form, nearly tickling you with soft, soothing circles, “he wouldn’t notice if the house was set on fire. You just rest, don’t worry about him.”

As his hands roamed your curled-up form in a comforting dance, the sensation nearly lulled you to sleep.

Nearly.

Because when his fingers began to more frequently skim over your thigh, going far enough to notice the pillow lodged beneath it, he suddenly grabbed a hold of the cushion and wedged it even further up between your legs.

The stationary plush by itself was enough friction against your clothed clit for you to suck in a sharp breath, but it didn’t stop there, as with a fist tight around the corner, James began to rut it against you.

Letting out a soft whimper, it felt like you were floating on a cloud, and when his face then nuzzled against your neck, your hips couldn’t help but bashfully rock back against the pillow.

“James…” you whined wispily, the cherry lollipop nearly falling from your slackened jaw.

“Hm…” his voice vibrated against the rapid pulse on your neck, pelvis behind you grinded a bit closer, driving his hardness against the softness of your ass.

“Y-you’re-”

“It’s okay, love,” a fluttering kiss grazed the shell of your ear as he tugged the cushion harder against your throbbing centre, “just let me help you feel better…”

1K notes · View notes

flamingpudding · 1 year ago

Text

Gaming Pal Prompt

A/N: Random Idea that was stuck in my head after reading about a Pen Pal Prompt

It all started with a simple accidentally created open lobby. Sam, Tucker and Danny were just playing Doom in a four person Lobby that was supposed to be passcode locked and private so that it was only the three of them playing. But one of them must have forgotten to lock it as suddenly a random player joined them as well as the in-game voice chat they were using.

"Sup. Mind if I join the game? My last lobby kicked me."

"Why? Too good or too bad?"

Tucker shot back, not minding the new player. The three would just have to watch what they talk about during game time.

"Don't know. I think they thought I cheated."

"Pff, sore losers. Maybe you can help these losers kick ass."

"Oh shut it Sam, we will wipe the floor with you now!"

"A challenge huh? That sounds interesting. I am Tim by the way."

"Sam."

"Tucker."

"Danny."

The friend request was sent after the game in which Tim did help Tucker and Danny beat Sam. Only for Sam to demand a rematch to regain her victory streak. From then on the random player regularity started joining in on their games whenever he happened to be online at the same time.

Of course the trio filtered their talks over voice chat. Making sure they wouldn't let anything atrocious slip. Though they did have some fun telling a non Amity Parker about the shit that goes down in their town and Tim always appeared interested to hear more about the things going on. Always curious and full of follow up questions, that strangely focus on who the attackers were ( always ghosts really they don't have any other rogues aside from maybe the fruitloop) and other times very much focused on their local ghost hero Phantom. He was also strangely interested in the whole GIW situation and sounded rather confused when they mentioned the Anti-Ecto Acts.

Aside from that Tim practically became a part of their little group. Their online Gamer Pal who knew nearly as much about their rogues and local Hero (thanks to all the questions he asked) like they did. A full fledged Team Phantom member who just didn't know the main secret of Danny actually doing the Ghost fighting as Phantom and being the one getting hunted by his own Parents and the GIW.

So of course the day came where Sam, Tucker and Danny forget to filter their words. It was during one particularly exhausting day when Danny had only had like 4 hours of sleep because he had studied all night for an English Test and then Skulker appeared to hunt Phantom and Danny's parents showed up too, making souping the Hunter Ghost especially difficult.

"Ancients, Skulker just had to decide on hunting you today, didn't he Danny?"

"Don't remind me. He is still souped in the thermos, but dodging Mom was harder with so little sleep."

"Should you like take a nap then man?"

"Nah I am fine for gaming night."

"Hey Danny, you did escape the blasters unscratched right? Your mom is the better shot after all."

"Nearly. Mom landed a couple of hits but it's almost healed already, just some small burn marks left."

"I am sorry, WHAT?! Did you guys just say that Skulker, the one that's hunting Phantom for sports, was hunting Danny. Danny was the one to Soup him not Phantom and Danny's Mom shot and hurt her own son with one of these ecto-blasters?!"

#danny fenton #danny phantom #tim drake #sam manson #tucker foley #dp x dc #dc x dp #crossover #Tim becomes the trios gaming pal #Tim has a lot of questions #Sam Tucker and Danny don't mind him gaming with them #They forget he isn't only a gaming pal at some point #They also forget he is in the voice chat one day #Tim was already worried about Amity before #now he got more to investigate there #should he clue in the bat fam?#dpxdc #dcxdp #prompt idea

2K notes · View notes

twstgarden · 9 months ago

Text

❀ ❝ 𝟭𝟮 𝗽𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝘀 ❞

━ idia shroud x gn! persephone! reader ━ idia wonders how he got lucky with you, and everyday, he wonders if you really are there by his side and not just a figment of his imagination. (f/n means first name)(reader can be yuu or an oc)

requested by: @glass-anna11 request type: scenario requester’s message: “Hello! May I please request for fluff relationship with Idia and a Persephone-like S/O please?" florist’s note: hello, dearie! of course, i love idia, not sure if this is fluffy though. apologies~

this work does not contain spoilers for chapter 6, ignihyde’s arc.

do not steal or translate without my permission.

ko-fi here if you want to support me

idia was still not convinced that you were his. you were the epitome of perfect to him: kind, sweet, and drop-dead gorgeous. not to mention, you also can be wise and mature when you need to. the contrasts between your personality paired with the affection you gave him were enough to make him think he was dreaming.

'the gods must be playing a joke on me,' thought idia as he watched you hum a tune to yourself while making some flower crowns, seated on his carpeted floor surrounded by flowers you picked in heartslabyul's garden.

god forbid you'll ever get in trouble for that, but knowing you, you might've asked for permission before picking their flowers. his console rested on his hands while he was waiting for his game to load, his eyes stuck on your radiant beauty.

however, the sounds of his game's background music playing made him resume his concentration back on the screen, and he once again tried to distract himself. it took a few hours until he tore his gaze away from his game and noticed you were no longer in the same spot as you were before.

he wondered where you were, and as soon as he finished playing, he got out of his seat and looked around, "n/n...?"

did you leave? have you gotten bored of him? have you gotten tired of being the one to take initiative? did you find someone else that's better suited for you - someone that is not a gloomy, underworld keeper like him?

thoughts flooded his mind, and just as quickly as they came, they instantly disappeared the moment you entered the room with two cups of instant ramen in hand, pausing your tracks as you two stared at one another for a while before you smiled.

"i went to make some instant ramen while you played. i thought you might be hungry, so..." you trailed off whilst he stood there with eyes wide open as if he had seen a ghost.

"...why are you so caring?" mumbled idia, making you tilt your head a little. "what do you mean?" you asked before placing the instant ramen cup on his desk while you ate yours.

"i mean, why are you so kind to me?" asked idia once more as you paused eating your ramen and set it down, realising he was still in disbelief that someone was actually taking care of him like this no matter how much it seemed like he was not returning the gesture.

you cupped his cheeks, still smiling sweetly at him, "because i love you, idia."

love.

you love him.

he stayed silent for a moment, his thoughts running wild again as he looked into your eyes, seeing nothing but genuine feelings. he eventually held your waist - in a rather awkward manner - as he smiled a little at you.

a soft sigh left his lips, growing nervous as he was about to take the next step. with one arm around your waist, he used his free hand to reach out at the drawer behind you, opening it and grabbing something that you did not see.

"hm? what is that?" you asked, curiosity brimming your mind as you eyed his enclosed hand. he took his arm off from your waist as he gulped, placing a hand under your chin to make you look at him as he presented the candies in his hand, "would... you like some?"

thinking it was just him being nervous about offering things to you, you shrugged and smiled at him, grabbing the 12 candies in his hand as he eyed you for a bit while you spoke, "sure, thanks!"

you then looked at the candies. it was red in colour and round, just like the other hard candies that idia casually eats when he is bored. not caring about what flavour it might be, you unwrapped the treat and popped it in your mouth.

"hm... tastes... like pomegranate...?" you mumbled, making idia nervous as he spoke, "are you not fond of it?" you smiled and replied, "no, i did not mean it like that. it tastes great!"

idia sighed in relief as he smiled at you, awkwardly wrapping his arms around you once more as he said, "that's a relief... they're local candies from my hometown." you hummed in response as you continued tasting the pomegranate candies, "from the island of woe? huh, they taste great."

"yes..." trailed idia as he thought to himself, '...so they are unaware of the island of woe's tradition relating to pomegranates... how do i tell them that offering pomegranates to someone is equivalent to a declaration of love without sounding so awkward?!'

412 notes · View notes

thegnomelord · 11 months ago

Note

omg yes for the Ghost fic request you can do prompt 3 instead that would be great, thank you. some angst with a happy ending please

Sure thing dude, sorry this took so long, but a happy xmas to you lol My hyperfixation hyperfixated on this so it's a bit long and expositiony but I'm actually really happy with how this turned out :D Play the game HERE

Prompt: "Tell me how I’m supposed to un-love you, then. Tell me. Spare me.”

CW: NSFW, subbot Ghost, domtop Mreader, angst, misunderstandings, gentle sex, making up kinda, confessions, fwb turned lovers, idiots in love,

Simon's apartment is a picture of painful domesticity; your muddy boots sit neatly next to his by the door, two mugs set next to the coffee maker, two toothbrushes left on the sink only a foot away from different shower products that have long since mixed together into one giant pile, and a dozen more little things that tell anyone with a cursory glance — 'yeah, two people live here'.

When people wonder why you practically live together when you're just casual, you both just say it's convenient (and ignore how fake your answers sound).

After all; Why leave after he's ridden you to both of your completions when you can just settle on the couch and share a drink over a movie? Why should you waste money on a cab to get back to your own flat when you two can just tumble into bed? Why should Simon wake up to an empty and cold flat when he can do so in your arms, your steady heartbeat remind him you're both alive? Why leave in the morning and miss one of the few times Simon's fully relaxed when you can have a lazy morning, laying in bed and enjoying each other's company until the sun's high in the sky?

Why leave at all?

. . . Simon treasures every moment with you as much as he hates it, every second in your presence like a pretty hummingbird singing sweetly in his ear while it drills holes into his skull. Absolute Hell. Utter bliss.

He knows he doesn't deserve you. Knows you don't deserve to have a living corpse crawl back into your arms every night, nothing but a stranger with Simon's face. But you two have known each other so long it's impossible to let you go.

You met as toddlers when you'd nicked his toy, refusing to give it back until he agreed to play with you, and you've been stuck at the hip since. You two were each other's first kiss, fumbling behind the school bleachers, eager and sloppy like inexperienced lads are. First set of blooming hickeys along his collarbones, Simon's ma giving him a knowing look when she'd noticed it amongst the other bruises her no good husband had left on him. First fuck, quick and rough in a dark janitor closet during basic training, burning with need and heat. First—

. . . Simon doesn't know when the word 'Love' first registered in his brain. Maybe when you tore up heaven and hell looking for him. Maybe when you stuck by him when he did his best to scare you off, all rough words and teeth, unable to form one nice word when violence and revenge was all that was left in his head.

He doesn't know when he registered the word. Only that he looks at you whenever you do something mundane and thinks 'yeah. Love. That fits.'

But love has no place in. . . whatever this is. Hell, he's the one who'd set the ground rule when you two were young and dumb, reaffirming it after he'd come back as Ghost. And you'd never fought against it, agreeing to just be fucking casual, there's no way you want anything more than this. He doesn't want to cock it up, doesn't want to take more from you than he's already done, so he swallows all he feels and ignores how it burns his throat, going day by day like nothing's changed.

He wakes in your arms, deeply ingrained training waking him before dawn but the heat of your body keeps him rooted in place. Distantly he can still feel the cold tight confines of that coffin, of maggots wriggling on his skin, but memories of that nightmare float away before his traitorous mind can latch on to them. He lays in bed, head firmly on your chest so he can hear you, see you breathe. Morning comes too soon and you rouse awake, laying a sweet kiss on his forehead before getting out of bed to set the kettle on.

It's domestic.

It's painful.

. . .

You love how Simon looks. You especially love how he looks in his civies, freed of his armor and no longer needing to be guarded at all times, shoulders relaxed and mindlessly looking around as you talk while you browse the store. He's still gruff, and sarcastic, but you love that about him. You loved him long before he said not to tangle emotions in your meaningless bliss and long after he'd come back as Ghost, each unknown scar on his body taking a chip out of your heart.

And you respect his choice. You'll take what you can get and won't give it up even after your corpse has grown cold, hoping that will be enough to drown out the neediness of your heart. You lost him once and it had nearly killed you, you can't lose him again. . .

God, you're pathetic for him.

You meet miss Betty on your way back from the shop. She's your neighbor a few doors down, a sweet old lady who waters your plants when you and Simon are called back into action. You see her struggling with her bags so you hand your own to Simon so you can help her, "Hold this, please?"

"Only because you asked nicely." Simon huffs, but takes the bag without further complaint, walking behind you as you help miss Betty with her shopping, content to listen to you two talk about who knows what. It still amazes him how you've managed to charm all the neighbors Simon rarely spoke to.

"Oh, thank you deary." Miss Betty says as you put her shopping next to her door, holding onto your arm for support. "It's so nice to have a helpful person around here."

"It's not a problem ma'am." You say with a small smile, and fuck if Simon's heart doesn't beat a bit faster at the sight.

"You know," Miss Betty begins. "My grandson's been eyeing you up. And I can see why, you're such a strapping young man."

You feel Simon's gaze fall on you like a dagger, cold, hard, expectant. You try to think of what to say but your words fail you, because while you and Simon aren't in a relationship you can't picture yourself be with anyone else. "I-"

"Oh don't worry deary, I told him he was barking up the wrong tree." Miss Betty cuts you off by giggling like a school girl, "I wouldn't want to separate you two love birds."

The words burning on your tongue escape you before you can filter them. "Yeah, I doubt I could love anyone other than Simon." You clear your throat after, feeling his eyes on you.

Miss Betty just coos. "Oh, to be young and in love." Then she turns, waving her walking stick at Simon like he's an annoying pigeon that flew into her house. "You better treat him properly you big oaf, he's good for you."

Oh, Simon knows. Knows you're too good for him. But all he lets out is a small grunt, and you can't help the surprised laugh that escapes you.

You don't think of what you say next, so far away from a warzone your defenses are lowered. "No need to worry ma'am, he's the love of my life and I can assure you he treats me very well."

There's that word again, and the way it leaves your lips has Simon's heart skipping a beat. Fuck, Simon wants to hear you say it until he's deaf. Wants to hold your jaw closed so you don't speak again and stop making him feel this. Wants to pull you close and throw you out of the window at the same time. Wants— . . . he doesn't know what he wants.

"Oh, well I won't hold you up any more dears." Miss Betty says, patting you on the arm before shuffling back to her apartment with her shopping.

There's an uncomfortable silence between you two while you get back to Simon's flat, neither one of you sure what to say about the damn elephant in the room. You take the bags you'd given him, your back to him as you put them on the counter.

Acting like nothing's wrong. Nothing's changed.

But it has.

"An' you say my heart's rotten." Simon grunts, gruff and harsh, too many thoughts brewing in his head to properly say what he's thinking.

You turn to him, surprise obvious on your face. "What?"

"Lyin' to old ladies." His jaw is tense behind his face mask, which you note he hadn't taken off when the front door had closed, back to being guarded around you, something between Simon and Ghost. "Granted, it was convincing. What, did you take some creative writing lessons from Laswell?"

You stare at him for a few seconds, then you feel your jaw tense as well. "Christ, Simon, what are you on about?" You growl, stomping over to him.

His shoulders tense as you approach, but the scent of your cologne calms his body without his mind's input. "Can't love anyone but me?" He asks, something cold and slimy settling in your stomach when you realize he's repeating your words. "Love of your life am I?" Simon scoffs, the skin around his eyes moving in a sardonic smirk. "You're full of shite."

He doesn't know who he's trying to convince here.

You know you should brush it off, go along and say it was just a joke. Say anything that won't clue him in to your real feelings. Hell, not even saying a thing would be good.

But you just have to open your mouth.

"I wasn't lying about that Simon." You say suddenly, open, honest, your eyes meeting his.

Silence stretches long enough to have your nerves crackle with static, your body needing something instead of the nothing he gives you. Then Simon lets out a short, dry laugh, like your words are just a joke.

"Quit it." He huffs, doesn't meet your eyes because looking at you and entertaining the idea that he could have something more with you fucking hurts. "'m not up for your focking jokes." He grows, turning to leave,

Something inside you makes you move before your mind can comprehend it, grabbing his hand to stop him, "Simon I love you damn it!"

Your words are like a slap to the face for him. Simon freezes like a cornered deer, thousands of thoughts darkening his eyes, brows furrowed like he doesn't know whether to be angry or not. "But we—'

"—we agreed, I know. I fucking know." You hiss and damn it you can feel tears prickle your eyes like needles, "But I fucking love you, been in love with you for years and I know we agreed not to but—" You're babbling now, each word leaving your chest feeling raw like an open wound, the weight on your shoulders lessening but it only draws the noose tighter. "—just tell me how I'm supposed to un-love you, then. Tell me. Spare me."

Silence greets you as you stare into his eyes, that same static gnawing on your nerves the longer he just looks at you without a word, searching for something in your eyes he expects not to find.

But he does.

He spares you, pulls you by the clothes so his lips can crash onto yours, holding you close like you'll disappear. The kiss is sloppy and desperate just as it had been when you'd been hiding behind the school bleachers, all teeth and tongue and care.

Eventually the need for air breaks you two apart, but Simon refuses to let you go far. His rough hands hug you close as he rests his forehead against yours, pupils blown wide. ". . .love me, huh?" He says under his breath, as if he can't believe it.

"Yeah." You breathe out and wrap your own arms around him till there's not an inch of space between your chests, hearts beating fast like war drums but in such a rhythm you'd be fooled to think you share one. "Do you?"

Simon swallows, his throat dry, but the words slide smoothly off his tongue. "Yeah." He says, letting you pull him back into a kiss. It's sweeter this time, calmer, no longer rushing to feel the other. He melts against you, a low sound building in his throat as the sensations of you wrap his mind in silk, the taste, the feel, the scent, all of it making his mind fuzzy. All his now.

You lose track of time, stealing gulps of air between kisses as your minds drown in the other, your bodies moving on their own. You don't know how you end up in the bed but you do, your skin prickling with goosebumps as Simon's body presses against your own.

You part to catch your breath, Simon's head falling back on the pillow with your name leaving his lips like a prayer. He's underneath you, eyes hooded and short hair ruffled, and while usually he'd push you back and wrestle for control, this time he just melts into the sheets, lets you do as you want.

"Fuck-" Simon growls as you kiss down his neck, his blunt nails scratching your scalp as reward for the little hickeys you leave on his throat. Your hands roam across his body, leaving lingering trails of burning heat. "Love, please hurry up." He breathes out, cock already rock hard from just a few kisses and heavy touches.

"Right," You say, because that's all your brain can conjure up at the moment. Blindly reaching for the lube you trail kisses down his front, your lips tracing every scar along the way, his legs easily parting so you can settle between them. You can't help but look him over again, all relaxed and eager for you, chest rising and falling like he's a racehorse. "God you're fucking pretty."

A deep flush spreads from Simon's ears down to his hickey marked shoulders, a little smile tugging on the corner of his lip. "Just pretty?"

"Beautiful." You breathe out against his abdomen, rubbing your fingers together to warm the lube. "So handsome." You don't miss how his cock twitches, your lips following his happy trail. "Charming." You hum against the tip of his cock, tongue lolling out to lick at his slit. "Bloody bewitching." His hips buck into your mouth as your fingers slowly circle his puckered rim, putting just a bit of pressure at first. "Irresistible." His body yields, the tense muscles of his rim going lax and letting you slide a finger in.

A low and long groan escapes his chest, eyes fluttering shut as he savors the stretch, tight walls clenching in the rhythm of his breaths. "Read a dictionary, did you?" Simon smirks, heart warm and floaty at the way you wait for him to relax after the intrusion before you move, at the way you look at him when your exploring finger brushes his prostate and makes him moan. "Such a focking charmer."

"Just for you." You chuckle, lightly sucking on his cockhead to make him forget about the lingering pain, your ears pricked to hear every little groan and unabashed moan leaving his lips. "Can you handle two?" You ask, your second finger resting against his rim without trying to push in.

He growls like an animal and pushes his hips down on your hand, "You're sleeping on the couch if you don't hurry up." He warns at your question, his harsh glare softened by the heavy flush across his face and his hooded eyes.

"Not the dog house." You say in mock fear, swallowing his leaking cock a third of the way down in one go as you push your second finger in, your thumb rubbing the space between his balls and ass so his prostate is trapped on both ends.

"Shite-" Simon's hips twitch up, beads of precum painting your tongue as his legs spread open more. "-you wanker." His insult is light, head rolling back as he grounds his hips down in an attempt to chase after that spine numbing pleasure your fingers bring.

Pulling back enough to murmur "Love you too." against his tip you take him into your mouth again. You can't measure how good it feels to say those words honestly instead of sarcastically, your own arousal forgotten as you work him open on your fingers, the constant pressure on his prostate making a small stream of precum bead down your throat.

Simon floats in heaven for, he doesn't know how long, the pleasure making his brain melt through his dick, unable to stop the soft sounds escaping his throat. He cracks an eye open when the tightness in his stomach becomes apparent, barely able to stave off his orgasm when he sees his cock throbbing between your lips.

Your name comes out slurred as he tugs on your hair, "Need you. Now." A little bit of his usual demanding nature comes out, but even then it's born out of desperation to feel you rather than the need to be in control.

You let him pull you off his cock, placing gentle kisses on his thick thighs as you pull your fingers out of his stretched hole. "You have me."

You go to grab a condom but he stops you, too aroused to be embarrassed by his eagerness. "You don't- my physical, I'm clean. If you want, I mean-"

You furrow your brows, your chest tight with how big your heart feels. You could never hide how sick you'd feel at the thought of Simon being intimate with someone else, even when you'd never agreed to be exclusive. "We did physicals nearly three months ago, you haven't. . .?"

He shakes his head, "No," Suddenly he tenses up, his jaw tight like he's expecting bad news. "Have you?" His tone isn't judgmental, but you can hear the edge of hurt.

"No. No. No!" Quick to dispel his thoughts you lean over to kiss him like he's a bout of fresh air and you've been drowning for years. It's not too far from the truth. "You're the only one I've ever. . .done that with." You murmur against his lips, earning yourself another kiss as he pulls down by a hand on the back of your neck.

"Good." Simon tuts, proud, hiking one leg around your waist to pull you closer, your cocks rubbing together. "Fuck me already." He grumbles, his strong arms wrapped around your neck.

"Right, yeah." Despite how many times you've done this suddenly you feel like a fucking virgin, your hands trembling slightly as you lube up your cock. You press the tip against his slick hole, forcing you to bite your lip as you start to push your hips. "Just relax, yeah?"

"Yeah." Simon breathes out, feeling pressure of your cockhead against his hole. You both groan when your cockhead pops inside him, your lips on his making him forget about the lingering sting. "Shite, so good for me." Simon hums, looking at you with hooded eyes. Usually he relishes the sting and burn sex with you brings, but he's so loose and lubed the pain is barely a prickle at the back of his skull and he finds himself getting addicted to the unfiltered pressure and weight of your cock inside him.

"Simon," You say, clenching your teeth as you try to keep still so he can get used to you, holding his hips for dear life. "Can I- please I need."

"Focking move it," He nods his head, his head rolling back from the sensation of you moving inside him, your cock brushing against his walls as you push inside him inch by inch until you're fully inside him.

Your nerves a live wire from how tight and hot his hole is, forcing you to rest your head on the pillow next to his as you try to gather your self-control; you'll be damned if you cum before him.

"I'm good." Simon tugs on your scalp, your lips meeting in a lopsided kiss. You pull away to rest your forehead against his, his eyes blown wide and hooded, something about this position so intimate it melts your heart. "Hurry up, 'm not going to last long." He confesses, his walls clenching down on your length.

Words escape you so you just nod your head, slowly pulling your hips back before pushing back in, Simon meeting you half way so your cock can lay consistent pressure on his prostate. You two move like one, your senses full of sex and heat, your ears ringing with Simon's low moans and groans. Moving your hand down you stroke him in time with your thrusts, earning yourself even more moans. Usually Simon's so quiet in bed, but now he lets it all out so freely, low growls and huffs and small 'ah, ah, ah's breathed into your ear with every small movement of your hips.

Your pace picks up as your orgasm approaches, your cock bashing against his prostate with all the subtlety of a tank. "Shite-" Simon throws his head back to moan, leaving his throat open for your teeth to lay even more hickeys. "-I, fuck, yeah, that's the spot- just- I need-" His voice turns higher pitched and needy, his body moving with the force of your thrusts, powerful arms pulling you even closer so his teeth can clamp down on your shoulder.

Simon cums with a shout that's muffled into the meat of your shoulder, whole body shaking like a leaf in the wind as he paints both of your stomach's white with his cum, his hole clenching down and pulling you along with him. You cum inside him and moan, collapsing on top of him, completely exhausted.

The silence of the bedroom is broken up by your haggard breathing, both of your bodies sweaty and hot. You tilt your head just enough to catch the way Simon looks at you, like a content cat that knows he's safe, and shit if that doesn't melt your heart, nothing will.

"God, that was something else." You say to break the silence, trying to pull out when you feel yourself soften but your attempts are stopped quickly, Simon grumbling something under his breath as he hugs you closer. "What?" You ask.

He throws a light glare your way, but his eyelids droop with exhaustion. "Don't." He says, relaxing when you stop what you're doing. "Want to feel you." He says; it's the most intelligent thing his mind can conjure up right now.

A gentle smile tugs on your lips. "Right." You lean down to share another kiss with him, this one sweet and slow, his tongue gently liking your lips as a way to ask for entrance— why rush when you've got all the time in the world?

The exhaustion weighing on your bones and Simon saccharine kisses lull you to sleep soon enough, your body like a weighted blanket on top of him. "Love you," You mumble just before your eyes close.

Simon fights against his own fatigue for a few more minutes, relishing the feeling of being connected in such a primal way, with you in him and around him. He takes in your sleeping face with blurry eyes.

Yeah. Love. That fits.

#Gnome's Prompt Game #gnome correspondence #cod mw2 #trinkets from the hoard #male reader #top male reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x male reader #dom male reader #ghost x reader #cod modern warfare #cod x male reader #cod smut

504 notes · View notes

barefoothighlander · 2 years ago

Note

HELLO i have a request so ill try my best to explain it okay uhm, so could you do threesome like ghost x reader x könig ? IDK ABOUT THE PLOT BUT LIKE first they dont give in because of the age gap cuz they think y/n is too young or whatever but them they get put in a same room for a night since they had to stop for some serious reasons LIKE IDK YOU TIDY UP ALL THIS MESS BUT PLEASE LIKE THE READER HAS CHOKING KINK AND DEGRADING KINK YOU MAKE THE REST THANK YOU SO MUCH IF YOU DO THIS BECAUSE LIKE I RLLY CANT FIND ANYTHING WHERE READER GETS SANDWITCHED BETWEEN TWO MASSIVE MEN 😭😭 i beg 🙏🙏🙏🙏

I will take every given chance to thirst over these massive men, won't lie I got carried away with this so... enjoy

warnings: mdni (18+), smut, unprotected pinv, threesome, age gap, degradation, some praise, choking, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, mention of alcohol, blowjob, blindfold, oral (fem rec), creampie

You'd been in the safehouse with Konig and Ghost for two days already, two days of waiting in silence for someone to come and rescue you. The two men gave little in means of conversation, sitting quietly in their posts, keeping watch, occasionally glancing over to you.

You grew tired of the quiet within the first night, attempting a few times to spark conversations, the men would give simple responses in the form of hums or nods, not affording you full sentences. They had been awkward around you for a few weeks, the treatment starting after a drunken night at Soaps house, a few rounds of 'never have I ever' and too many rounds of shots.

"Right but if ye were to have a threesome, who'd you pick?" Soaps question makes your eyes widen, your cheeks blushing as you realize you don't even need time to think of your response.

"Ghost and Konig" Your response caused a thick tension to fill the air, you purposefully avoid the gaze of the two men as Soap's eyes lit up.

"I dinnae if you could handle both of them, lass, I mean, they're... large" Soap chooses his words carefully, eyes glancing around the room as the two men remain like statues, your heartbeat racing in your ears.

"Next question" Ghost's voice breaks the tension, you turn your attention back to your drink, heat flushing your skin.

You didn't realize how much your drunken words would affect the men but now, two weeks later and stuck in a safe house with them it showed, barely a word muttered between them.

"What's wrong with you two?" You ask in a fit of either confidence or annoyance,

"What do you mean?" Ghost turns to you

"One day were all chatting and having fun, and the next you two avoid me like the plague"

The men share a look, you throw your arms up in question,

"We aren't avoiding you" Konig shrugs

"I don't know how long we're stuck here and if neither of you will talk I'm going to lose my mind"

"Stop being a brat" Ghosts words make you tense

"Then tell me why you won't talk to me"

"Because you're just a kid," Ghost says, his voice low

"I'm younger than you, that's why you won't talk to me" You scrunch your face

"It's more that you want to fuck us" Ghost states plainly, your body freezes, your eyes widening at his words, you turn to Konig who's just as frozen as you, Ghost rests his weight on one leg, his thumb through the loop of his belt as he stares at you.

"I don't" You stammer

"What about the game the other night?" Konig adds

"Just a game"

"You're a terrible liar kid," Ghost says

"Stop calling me that" Your hands begin to fidget, unsure of what to do under the pressure of their eyes

"What would you rather us call you?"

"My name" Your eyes are glued to the floor, unable to look at them, Ghost moves toward you, his boots heavy against the floor. His hand moves to rest on your chin, tilting your head to face him,

"You sure there's not anything else you wanna be called?"

"Ghost.." Konig warns, "We can't"

"M'not sure about that, it's just us here anyway"

Your skin burns under his stare, his hand moves from your jaw back to rest on his vest, his shoulders broad, his stance purposefully intimidating you.

"Kneel"

Your breath is rapid, you keep your eyes locked on his as you drop to your knees, your neck craned to look at him,

"Ghost" Konig glances between your bodies, his tone stern, a final warning to his teammate

"Do you want this?" He softens his gaze for a moment, giving you an out, you're tiny under his hulking frame, cheeks red as your heart races, you glance between the masked man, focusing your gaze back on his skull mask.

"Please" It comes out as a whimper

"Please what?"

You huff a breath, "Please fuck me"

"Tell him" Ghost turns towards Konig, you follow his gaze, pleading eyes landing on his hood,

"Please, I need you, need you both"

"Oh kleine maus" He releases a deep breath, moving toward you, he stands behind you, you're trapped between the men with no escape, head level with their groins as your mind flurries.

"You gonna be good for us?"

You nod your head

"You gonna take what we give you?" Ghosts hands rest on his belt

"Yes" You can feel your arousal pooling, you slick drenching your panties as you sit, Ghost palms himself over his pants the tent in his pants more visible by the second.

You wriggle your hips, trying to gain some friction on your sex but Konigs hands are quick to settle on your shoulders, keeping you still,

"Careful, you take what we give you, nothing more" His voice echoes through your ears from above, you look up at the men, trying to gage what they were thinking but their masks reveal nothing, you furrow your brows in a silent plea, the sound of Ghosts belt music to your ears.

"You stay focused on me, eyes ahead" Ghost orders, you nod, doe eyes staring at him as you feel Konig kneel behind you, his hands roaming your frame.

Ghost unzips his pants letting his cock spring free, you wet your lips at the sight, a sudden nervousness taking over your body as you realize how big he is. He takes his cock in his hand, pumping it a few times,

"Don't worry, you can take it"

He teases his leaking tip against your lips, smearing his slick against the skin as you part them, flattening your tongue, he runs his tip over the muscle, gathering your saliva on it before pushing in an inch. You hum around him, the taste of his pre cum salty on your tongue.

Konig's hands move to roam under your shirt, bunching the fabric above your breasts before urging your arms up so he can lift it, his hands moving to paw at your breasts. The contact forces a moan from your throat, the vibration making Ghost let out a small grunt as he pushes deeper into your mouth.

Ghosts hand cups your jaw, pulling your gaze up to him, you stare at him through your lashes, he squeezes your jaw lightly asking permission, you nod slightly and blink your eyes at him. You brace your hands against his thighs as his fingers pull your hair back, he thrusts into your mouth slowly, allowing you time to breathe before he pulls out all the way, forcing his cock into the back of your throat, forcing you to gag around him.

You breathe through your nose as his tip brushes against your throat over and over, the saliva from your mouth polling around the base of his cock, dripping down to his balls.

Konig's hands roam further down your frame, his fingers slipping past the band of your pants to cup your sex, the contact making you moan around Ghost's length.

"Scheiße so wet already, kleine schlampe" His fingers tease over your clothed pussy, you move your hips to grind down on his fingers and he pinches your clit, forcing a muffled yelp from you.

"Needy slut" He breathes in your ear, his words going straight to your core, tears prick your eyes as Ghosts thrusts deep into your mouth, pulling his cock out as your head falls forward, gasping for air,

"Please, touch me" You pant,

"S'that what you want you fucking slag, need Konig's fingers to stretch you out while I fuck your throat?"

"Yes, God please" You beg, your chest heavy

"Earn it" Ghosts hand moves his cock back to your lips, your reach to grip his length, your saliva working to help you glide your digits up and down his cock, taking him into your mouth as Konig's hand dips below your panties, you clench your eyes shut as he pushes his fingers into you, his thumb settling against your clit as the digits pump into your weeping cunt.

"Eyes up here" Ghost's hand grabs your cheek, forcing you to look at him, your work his length, flattening your tongue to allow him deeper into your throat, gagging around his cock as Konig's fingers curve to swipe against your sweet spot.

You moan around Ghost's cock, his grip on your hair growing tighter as your hand pumps him, you keep your eyes locked on his as Jonig's fingers stretch you out, his thumb circling your clit making you clench down on him, his chest is pressed to your back keeping you still, you're trapped between the men.

Konig's free hand moves to pinch your hardened nipple, the sensation bringing you closer to the edge, Ghost can feel your movements become sloppy, his hand moving to grab atop yours, guiding it over his cock,

"You wanted it, now take it," He says through gritted teeth, he buries his cock in your throat and you arch against Konig, the hand on Ghost's thigh digging into the muscle as you reach your peak, whining and moaning around Ghosts cock,

"That's it, filthy girl" Konig coos in your ear, his fingers fuck you through your high as Ghost holds your jaw steady, his balls tighten as his head falls forward, strings of curses and grunts coming from him as he spills into your mouth, his seed dripping down your throat.

Your tears stain your cheeks as you swallow around him, gasping for a breath as he pulls out, a string of saliva dripping from his tip as you fall forward. Konig pulls his hands from you, his hands settling on your hips, helping you up, he holds you against his form and you feel his hard-on press against your back, the sensation making a shiver run up your spine.

He guides you toward the bed that sits in the corner of the room, helping you to sit on the edge before moving his hands from you.

“Close your eyes kleine maus”

You do as he says, fluttering your kids shut till your sight is consumed by darkness, you follow the sound of the men, the noises of their buckles clattering and they drop their pants down. You hear footsteps near you, hands holding the sides of your face as a piece of fabric is placed over your eyes, and tied behind your head.

“For identity's sake,” You hear Ghost say, you can’t see him but you can smell him, gunpowder and tobacco invades your senses as he moves from you.

You feel the mattress dip below you, strong arms pulling you back against the bed as your limbs splay across the sheets, rough hands knead at your breasts causing soft meals to fall from your lips, another pair tugs at your pants, pulling them from your legs so you’re bare, the cool air of the room hitting your dripping pussy, goosebumps form on your skin.

You move your arms to feel the man behind you, trying to figure out which one it was before strong hands grab yours, pinning them down,

“No touching, not yet” The English accent rings in your ears, you sigh quietly as Konig’s hands roam your bare thighs, squeezing at the flesh, you feel his breathe ghost over your cunt, you try to squeeze your legs shut but he holds them open, pressing your lower half into the mattress.

Your head rests in Ghost's lap, one hand holding yours down while his other moves to settle at the base of your neck, his fingers on your pulse point.

“Open your mouth”

You do as he says, dropping your jaw as he leans over your form, spit dripping from his tongue past your lips, you swallow it with a hum.

“Such a good little whore” His fingers squeeze lightly at your neck, your back pulls away from the mattress, arching as Konig’s tongue flicks over your clit.

He laps at your cunt, flattening his tongue to lick a stripe between your folds before closing his lips around your bud, sucking at the nerves as your head pushes further into Ghost's lap.

Ghost releases you, letting your hands roam to grab at anything you can while his settles at your breasts, twisting and punching your nipples, Konig’s tongue flicks over your clit, circling and sucking at the bud while you writhe under him.

“You’re gonna cum once more, then we’re gonna ruin you like the little slut you are” Ghost emphasizes his words with a squeeze to your throat, strangled moans escaping your throat as Konig’s tongue laps at you, inching you toward release.

His hands pin your hips as you try to grind against him, needing more,

“Be good, needy thing” He chastises from below you, his fingers digging into your hips sure to leave bruises as he continues his assault.

“C’mon, be a good little whore and cum on his tongue” Ghost voices rings above you, his words shooting straight to your core, you strain under Konig’s grip, his tongue has you teetering on the edge, he teases his fingers around your entrance earning a wanton moan from you as he pushes in, the new sensation has your vision blinding behind the mask as your second orgasm rips through your body, your hips twitching against his lips while Ghosts hands roam your form.

He eases you through your high, letting you come down slowly before detaching himself,

“Scheiße, taste so sweet, if I knew you sounded like that we would've done this sooner”

Your breaths are heavy as you lay against Ghost, your legs falling against the bed as Konig stands, his hands reach for your waist, flipping you to your stomach with ease, you fall against Ghost as he shifts under you, his hands steadying you as Konig lifts your hips from the bed.

He slots himself behind you, his palms pressing against your ass, spreading it to get a better view, Ghost's hands move to gently remove the mask from your eyes, peeling the fabric from your face, his hand on your chin as he tilts your head,

"Need you to keep your eyes on me, gonna watch you fall apart" His voice is gruff, you wriggle your hips toward Konig in anticipation, his tip gliding between your folds, collecting your slick. Ghost holds your face up, forcing you to strain your neck, an arch forming in your back as Konig lines himself up, pressing his tip against your hole, you gasp at the feeling, now aware of how big he is.

"You can take it, I know you can"

You relax your shoulders, hands pressing into Ghost as Konig pushes in deeper, the stretch of his fingers nothing compared to the way his cock feels,

"So goddamn tight maus," He says through gritted teeth, you struggle to keep your eyes on Ghost, your jaw falling open as gasps and moans slip past your lips,

"S'alright, you'll warm her up for me" Ghost reaches for your hand, moving it to settle atop his growing erection, his hand keeping yours pressed against him.

Konig quickens his pace, your body shifting back and forth against Ghost as he drags his length across your soaked walls, your slick wetting his pubes every time he bottoms out, pressing against your cervix, you watch Ghost with hooded lids, his face remaining stoic as you palm his length.

Konig's grunts fill your ears, his fingers digging into your hips as he pounds into you, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room,

"That's it, love, take it, just like the little slut you are"

You moan at his words and you can see Ghost smirk under his mask, he's watching you unravel under their touch, your legs getting wobbly as Konig stretches you around his massive cock, forcing you to take every inch.

Konig snaked an arm around your waist, lifting your hips up slightly, allowing his fingers to tease around your clit, you let out a gasp and clench down on his length, the rough pads of his fingers circling your bud, his hold the only thing keeping you upright.

You drop your head forward but you're caught by Ghost, his fingers firm around your throat as he pulls your gaze back to him,

"Eyes on me or you don't get to cum"

You let out a small whimper, your free hand digging into the flesh of his thigh as Knoig works you toward another orgasm, the heat in your stomach building to sear your skin, every nerve alive as he thrusts into you.

He works your clit at a vicious pace, your brain a ball of fuzz as it refuses to form words, resorting to strings of moans and whimpers, you stare at Ghost with pleading eyes, tears brimming in them,

"You wanna cum?" He squeezes your throat, his other hand pressing your digits against his now firm cock.

You nod against his grip,

"Use your words"

"Yes, please, need to cum"

"You wanna soak his cock, you fuckin slag, do it, cum for us"

Your orgasm rips through your body, your limbs going limp as Konig holds you up, fucking you through your high as you melt against Ghost, fingers clenching against his flesh.

"Such a tight little pussy, mein gott, gonna make me cum"

Konig buries himself inside you, his balls pressed against your core,

"Beg for it slut, beg for his cum"

You let out a deep moan as the sensation, you're stuffed to the brim, unable to move,

"Please, need your cum, please Konig"

He grips your flesh as his muscles tighten, spilling his load inside you, keeping it deep inside your walls as he gives shallow thrusts, forcing it deeper, his spend floods your walls, spilling out as he pulls from you.

He releases you, letting you fall forward as Ghost moves from his spot leaving you limp against the bed, Konigs hands press against your shoulders, pulling you to all fours while he sits in front of you, resting against his legs. His cock is sitting in front of your eyes, his softening length teasing at your lips, you flatten your tongue but he pulls back,

"Not yet maus, gonna fill you up, don't worry"

You whimper at his words, needing to taste him while Ghost slots himself behind you, your aching core clenching around nothing as his fingers tease your slit, gathering the mixture of spend and smearing it around your skin.

He gives you no time to adjust, bottoming out in a single thrust, Konigs hands keeping you upright as your pussy clenches around Ghost, your tears stain your cheeks and Konig swipes a thumb over the wet skin,

"You're doing so well darling" He purrs, words escape you, diluted to a babbling mess as Ghost pounds into you, Konig kneels forward, his palm stroking up his length as his cock swipes across your wet lips, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth.

Ghost presses a firm hand to your spine, your stomach pressing against the mattress, allowing him deeper while Konigs tip teases at your mouth, you part your lips for him, he smears your saliva around his tip, the taste of his spend lingering on his cock as you flatten your tongue, tasting him.

He pushes into your mouth, your body pinned between the two men as they fill you from both ends, Ghosts hands spread your ass as he lifts his mask above his nose, a string of spit dripping from his tongue to your hole, wetting the skin as he continues to fuck you at an unrelenting pace.

Your vision is blurry, your body weak as the men continue to wreck you, Konigs length pushing past your lips to drag along the inside of your mouth, you moan around his length, your hands digging into the sheets as you try to stay balanced.

"Is this what you wanted, needed to be filled by two cocks you little slut" Ghost emphasizes his words with harsh thrusts, the wet wounds of your hole filling the air as you gag around Konig, his balls slapping against your chi with every thrust.

Their hands keep you steady as your brain clouds with lust, all your senses invaded by the two men as they wreck your body, every part of you claimed by them.

"You wanna walk around with our cum in you? Dirty fucking girl"

The thought makes you hum around Konigs cock, your pussy clenching around Ghost,

"She likes that, you want us to mark you huh, ruin this little pussy"

You can't think to respond, simply resorting to clenching your eyes and arching your hips further toward Ghost, allowing him impossibly deep inside you.

Konig moves his hand to grab your hair, tugging your neck back to allow himself deeper, burying his cock in your throat as you gag around him before he pulls out a moment, allowing you to breathe.

"Please, need to feel you" You beg, your head turning towards the man behind you, Konigs hand moves to your throat, keeping you still in front of him as he thrusts back into your mouth. You're a mess of moans between the men, your hips twitching as Ghost's fingers connect with your swollen clit.

"One more, give me one more" He circles your bud, your cries muffled by Konig's length thrusting into your mouth as your orgasm builds quickly, you want to beg him to stop but you can't, your body moulding to the men as they bring you back to the edge.

The coil inside you threatens to snap as Ghost swipes your clit in time with his thrusts,

"Scheiße, look at me" Konig pants above you, you tilt your head to face him, your skin red, your lips puffy as you stare at him through your lashes. He stares at you with a piercing gaze and your orgasm erupts in your chest, clenching around Ghost while you moan around Konig, your body trembling under the men as your vision goes white, a dull ringing filling your ears.

"That's it, fuck" He buries himself in your throat, his seed filling your mouth as his hips twitch, you hum around his tip, your tongue lapping up every drop from his cock as he pulls out with a pop.

You take a deep breath, panting as Ghost pounds into you, your head falling forward as your arms give out, your drool pooling under your cheek as he presses you into the mattress.

"So fucking good" Ghost grunts, leaning over your frame as his tip prods at your cervix, he cums with a growl, his sounds buzzing above you while he fills you with his seed, your abused hole milking him. He keeps his softening cock inside for a moment, pulling it out and replacing it with his fingers, pushing the leaking spend back inside you, your hips flinch from the stimulation, your slick coating the insides of your thighs.

You fall forward, your body limp against the bed, the mattress dips under the weight of the men, Ghost lays back against the bed, his arms tugging you against him so your head can rest on his chest. Konig turns to grab a small cloth, easing himself down the bed to carefully wipe around your core, careful to avoid your swollen clit as he cleans you.

You catch your breath while Konig lays behind you, his arms snaking around your waist to hold you, your limbs are tangled between the two men while your heartbeat relaxes. His hands draw lazy patterns over your skin as your muscles ease, melting into the men,

"Did so well" Ghost places a soft kiss on the crown of your head, your cheeks pressed to the exposed skin of his upper chest, the warmth of the men comforting your sore body as the light of the sun peaks through the windows of the house.

"So good for us" Konigs hands trace over your skin, his chest flush with your back as he sandwiches you between him and Ghost, the thrum of their heartbeats filling your ears.

2K notes · View notes

bitchinbarzal · 1 year ago

Text

Fuck me, I’m Famous | J Hughes

summary: jack has to come clean about who he really is and it’s not received well.

“So what do you do for work, Jack?” You ask, swirling your wine in the glass.

You watch his face contort into something resembling a thought as he said “I work in… sports”

You smile “Oh! So you’re like what? A P.E teacher or football coach?”

He swallows thickly “Something like that”

“Oh, that’s so cool! You must have so much fun with the kids” you beamed.

Jack felt bad, you seemed so interested in his fake job.

He diverted the conversation quickly “So what is it you do? Do you work with kids?”

“Oh no! I wish but in New York a teachers salary won’t cut it. I’m a financial advisor and it’s super boring”

He quirks his brow “oh really?”

“Yeah, i actually just started a new job at Prudential? I don’t know if you’ve heard of them-“

“Um Yeah actually maybe I have in passing” he chokes on his water “I think maybe I’ve heard it on the radio or something”

You look at him skeptical look “If you don’t know it’s ok” you laugh “I just moved to the city so I don’t know much about them but I think they sponsor a sports team thats local to jersey? You might know?”

Jack’s face is stuck in his water glass and he shakes his head while making a nuh-uh noise.

Pulling away he says “No, no I don’t think I have”

By the end of the night you’d left Jack with a few stray kisses and promises from him to call you.

He hadn’t called you.

You thought he was ghosting you and had checked every social media platform for a Jack Rowden but you couldn’t find anything.

He really hadn’t called because he’d been on the road for the past two weeks and forgot in the run up to the cup and all the drama surrounding it.

Your boss had invited you out after work with the team, telling you it was a game for the team the organization sponsored.

You’d been given a jersey, the red with the number 86 on the back with the name Hughes written in white.

“So you’ve really never watched Hockey?” Your boss asked, laughing at the way you ogled at the arena below your box.

“No! Never! This looks awesome! And we sponsor this whole thing?”

Your never ending array of questions had to stop the moment the lights switched off and the jumbotron lit up with the teams intro.

You watched like a child at a show, your eyes lit up. Then his face appeared across the screen, your smile dropped and your eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

You watched as Jack’s highlight reel played on the screen then his smiling face came on at the end with his name — HUGHES

Throughout the entirety of the game you had a scowl on your face, truly hurt by his actions.

During the third period during a break in play the jumbotron showed random clips of the crowd. Jack was huffing and puffing on the bench, watching the screen when your face appeared.

Jack’s eyes went wide as he studied your pissed off expression surrounded by your colleagues all waving for the camera.

At the end of the game, Jack changed as quick as possible and ran out to the parking lot he knew the sponsors were able to park.

He ran down, spotting you headed for your car

“Did you know?!” He shouts, his voice bouncing off the walls and echoing.

You turn around, glaring at him “No, I didn’t know! And no thanks to you for lying — I was here for work! I was completely embarrassed!”

Jack shrinks at the tone in her voice “I’m sorry, okay?”

You chuckle and shake your head “It’s a bit late now, Jack Hughes”

He hears the iciness in your words “I’ve told women before about my career and they’ve just used me for fame!”

You were now close enough to touch, he reached out and you recoiled “Does that give you a pass to lie to me? Did I give you that impression?”

“No! No, of course not! Y/N, i’m sorry I should’ve been honest with you from the very beginning” he admits, he feels like he’s loosing you.

For the first time in a long time he actually liked someone and now he’d messed it all up.

Tears began welling in your eyes as it dawned on you “Were you ghosting me? Did you lie to me because you planned to never see again?”

It then dawned on Jack just how long it had been since he had texted you, scrambling to grab his phone out of his pocket and scrolling through your texts.

“No, no! I didn’t-“

You put your hand up to stop him “Forget about it, Jack” and turned to find your car.

“Please, stop!” He begged, running down after you.

“Forget it Jack! Go lie to someone else and leave me alone!” You cried.

“I really like you, Y/N!” He replied, finger hooking under your chin to tilt your gaze to him “I didn’t mean to hurt you, you’re amazing I’m so sorry for what I’ve done to you”

You gaze averted to the floor and you pushed away from him “Yeah I’m sorry too”

And he watched as you climbed into your car and drove away, leaving him standing there silently begging you to turn around.

“Fuck!”

#jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #nhl imagine

675 notes · View notes

endless-ineffabilities · 2 years ago

Text

le marquis et le moineau

Marquis de Gramont x f!reader

themes: angst, twisted business associates(?) to lovers, dubious morals, the Marquis has his eyes set on you and only you (but you don't know that ofc)

a/n: this bloody Frenchman has been plaguing my thoughts (thanks to a very sinister portrayal by one Bill Skarsgård). Mind you, I still haven't even seen the film John Wick 4, but I'm a fan of the series, and the morsels I've seen of the Marquis have been more than enough to give rise to a new lil fixation.

word count: 932 ▪︎ more of moineau ▪︎ other works

It started as a little game.

Just some passing fancy between yourself and the Marquis.

Or at least, that was what it was supposed to remain. Only that. A game.

But you should have known better. You should have known that any game played with Marquis Vincent de Gramont may eventually turn deadly.

Your high-risk job at the Continental usually also reaped the highest of rewards.

Tip off the right person and receive a gold coin. Deliver a message, without any bumps or bruises to all parties involved, and your reputation would be given a much-needed boost or two.

This business was danger wrapped in deceit wrapped in glamour. And you knew how to deal the right cards.

Although it seems, things are not as easy when it comes to the Marquis.

Vincent was every bit a menace as his reputation decreed. The Marquis tasked with restoring the authority of the High Table, he was nothing short of cunning and ambitious, prepared to take down any and all those who posed a threat to his objectives.

Dangerous. Deceptive. Glamourous as well, mind you. He was perfectly suited to this world.

He was also brazen, pretentious, snobbish.

And beautiful.

He knew just how to tug at your strings and make you bend. Or at least, he always tried to.

Like he was doing then, in one of the bigger rooms in his palacial estate, wherein only the two of you stood with only a few feet in between.

"What did we agree upon, mon moineau?" His silky accented voice implored.

My sparrow, he called you. The reason for which remained undisclosed to you, not for a lack of trying to wrench it out of him.

Why couldn't he call you something sweeter? Of the more classic French romantic sobriquets?

Chérie, perhaps. Mon amour. Mon coeur.

But no. You were stuck with measly ol' "my sparrow".

Of course, not that it mattered. Perhaps the Marquis reserved his sweeter words for those he actually cared for. At the very least, well-regarded enough to be associated with. Those impossibly beautiful and refined members of European aristocracy that he was so often rumoured to be wining and dining.

Unlike you. Renegade, foul-mouthed vagabond.

You stared up at his pacing figure. "I am fully aware of what we agreed upon, Vincent. What I have done does not breach that. I am perfectly capable - "

His head snapped to you menacingly. "You could have been killed, moineau."

You shrugged. "Consequences. I did not enter this damned line of work without considering the risks. As it goes, getting killed would not exactly be an uncommon occurence."

"Don't jest." He shut his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose, in obvious annoyance.

You took a step forward, trying to find his gaze. "And if I were to... pass... so what? Everything would simply go on. The truth is that I'm already a ghost. Doing what I do in our world makes me some kind of spectre. I am already not there."

You knew this. You repeated this to yourself when you woke, and before you went to sleep. It was the only truth you could hold on to.

Until him. Until some buried, twisted part of you began hoping that he would care.

But hope is a dangerous thing.

You continued, as he kept looking away. "You would go on. Perhaps even find a new sparrow to play with."

You felt it. As your words hung in the air, his entire mood shifted. He straightened, and with both hands burrowed in the pockets of his impeccably tailored trousers, his eyes land on you.

He slowly took a step forward, and then another, until his figure loomed over you.

In all your shared moments, you learned to discern the quick switches in his temper and his expression. But not enough, not completely.

The look he was giving you then was impossible to read.

"You think..." His left hand drifted to the hem of your blazer, toying with it. "... that I..." His index finger then drifted upward over your silk shirt, stopping in between your collarbones. His tongue briefly darted out to wet his lips, catching your eye. "... would simply replace you?"

You finally felt his touch on your face, his fingers delicately caressing your jawline.

He made a fleeting tsk tsk sound with his tongue, as if in disapproval.

"I believe you underestimate just how much you matter to me, mon moineau."

You did your best to remain unfazed. This was the game, wasn't it? Whatever you might think it can become, what you hope it can unravel into - set it aside as delusion.

Don't fall.

It's just a game to play.

Don't fall.

You took a deep breath, then smiled sweetly. Mockingly. "What makes you think I would even pay any mind to how much I matter to you? That line of thinking doesn't work for people like us, Marquis."

"People like us," he repeated, amusement furrowing his brow. "Non, mon moineau. There are no other people like us."

He leaned in, eyes not leaving yours, all but eliminating the distance between your faces. You could feel his breath on your skin, could count the faint spotting of freckles around his nose.

You wished to ask him what he wanted, but held back.

No. There was something better to say.

"What are you waiting for?" You managed to voice the words despite your very heart lodged in your throat.

He smiled, proud of his precious sparrow.

"Mon coeur... I've been waiting for you my entire life."

Ahhh! 🖤 Everybody say thank you Bill Skarsgård and the on-set stylist for the visual treat that is the Marquis.

I'm not even sure if this will find the right crowd - seeing as my lovely followers are of the HotD persuasion. But oh well, I had to get it out of my system.

Could be more of this... idk 🤷‍♀️ Rest assured I haven't forgetten about all my series works, even the ones I haven't started but said I would do...

#marquis de gramont #marquis vincent de gramont #vincent de gramont #john wick #marquis de gramont x reader #marquis de gramont imagine #bill skargard #bill skarsgard x reader #marquis vincent de gramont x reader #bill skarsgard imagine #john wick 4 #marquis vincent de gramont imagine #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgård x reader #vincent de gramont x reader

2K notes · View notes

ebodebo · 6 months ago

Text

Forbidden Fruit

NSFW CONTENT

—you and ghost had a relationship before you went off to college for your master's and he comes back for your father's and his bestfriends, captain price, party he’s hosting.

—dbf!ghost x f!reader

—1.6k+

wanna be on my taglist ? fill out this form !

"So, what are you celebrating anyway?" you ask your dad as he stands in the kitchen frosting cupcakes while you sit on the counter half-assisting him.

"Uh...nothing in particular," Price says as he carefully frosts a cupcake. "I just thought it could be nice since everyone's in town."

"Mhm," you remark as you stick your finger in the frosting. He stops frosting and stares at you. "Oh, come on, my hands are clean, plus no one has to know."

"I would know," he earnestly says, half joking, half serious. "And I'll tell everyone, you stuck your finger in the frosting. You might as well stick your finger in their mouth."

"Oh my God, you are so dramatic!" You exclaim, laughing. His laughs follow yours until you begin talking.

"So, who's all coming anyway?" You question finally picking up a cupcake to begin frosting it.

"Uh...just the usual." He continues. "Kate and her wife, Johnny, Gaz, and Simon." Your eyes dart up. "Simon?" He sets the frosted cupcake down. "Mhm—oh damn it." He says, as he spills some of the frosting on his shirt. "Why?" He questions as he reaches for a paper towel.

"Uh...no reason. I just haven't seen him in a while." It had been a while or so since you last saw Simon. And saw him you did.

"I guess it has been a while. Well, you two can catch up. Talk to him about college." You half smile.

"I should go change," you say, sliding off the counter and heading towards your room. Your mind is clouded with thoughts of Simon.

These are mainly thoughts of the way he left before you went back to college to pursue your master's. You confided in him, cried to him, embraced him, and even loved him.

He said he would keep in touch, but that had been all of five years ago. You had not spoken to or seen him in five years. Of course, your father had no idea of the sentiments you and Simon shared. He could never know.

You had sat in your seat for almost forty minutes. You were busy conversing with Laswell, mostly about college. You were just glad your dad answered the door for him.

Your goal was not to look in his general direction for the rest of the night, but your dad forced you to greet him. It's a good thing his greeting is pretty much always serious and to the point, so it wasn't odd to John that his daughter and Simon shared only one word.

However, then your dad had the grand idea to play a board game, which would force you to look at Simon. This would not do. You were looking for any reason to leave the table, to leave Simon.

Thank God Kate spilled some of her wine on the table. "No problem. Let me go get some napkins," your father chimed as he stood up.

"I'll get them." You stood quickly, heading to the shed before anyone could object.

You make your way outside to the shed to grab the napkins. You open the wooden door, which is surprisingly quiet, and step inside.

"If I were a napkin, where would I be." You whisper to yourself as you rustle around the knick-knacks crowding the shelves.

With no luck finding the napkins on the lower shelves, you investigate the higher shelves. You notice the familiar shade of white on the top shelf. "Bingo," you proclaim, but soon discover it would be impossible for you to reach. You scope around, noticing an old wooden box.

You drag the box in front of the shelves and stand on it, slowly extending your arms higher and higher until your finger grazes the napkin packaging. However, you feel the box holding you up starting to tilt—just your luck.

"Fuck!" You squeal as you feel your body falling, though you never do hit the ground. Instead, a force holds you up. You open your eyes to see Simon's eyes peering into yours as his arms encapsulate your body.

"You should be more careful," he gruffly states as he gently puts you down. You narrow your eyes at him. "What are you doing out here?" you question, irritability lacing your words.

"Price asked me to check on you," he says. “You were taking a while." You turn towards the napkins again. "Well, tell him I'll be out in a minute." You step onto the box and are expecting Simon to leave, but to your dismay, you turn your head to him in the exact same spot.

"This is usually the part where you turn and walk out the door." You chime as you place your hands on your hips.

He stayed stationary, no words coming out of his mouth. You narrowed your eyes again at his lack of action. "Simon," you annoyingly said as you impatiently tapped your foot.

He should most definitely not be thinking about you the way he is at the moment. You aren't just his boss's daughter; you are one of his best friends' daughters. It's unforgivable. You were off limits, forbidden fruit.

Forbidden fruit Simon Riley wanted to take a bite out of.

"Whatever." You scoff as you begin to reach for the napkins once again. "Stop." He bluntly says. You don't stop, though. You were going to get these God damned napkins one way or another.

"Y/N." He began, his voice becoming increasingly annoyed at you blatantly ignoring him.

You still stretched your arms, finally feeling the plastic bag holding the napkins between your pointer and middle finger.

"Enough." He sternly said as you stalked up behind you and roughly grabbed you by the waist, pulling you off the box.

"I almost had them." You breathed out, seething with anger. Though you were safely planted on the floor, Simon didn't let go of your waist. His hands stayed on your body.

Your eyes were staring into his. Your breath synchronized with his shallow breaths. "Let go, Simon," you breathlessly said, breaking the silence as you felt his hand grip tighten.

"No." He gruffly says as he brings you closer to him.

No, no. He wasn't just going to come back after years of ignoring you and years of your yearning for him.

"Your parents didn't teach you any manners?" It was a low-blow and you knew it, but you were furious. You didn't know the ins and outs of Simon's relationship with his family, but you knew there was some deep-rooted trauma there.

"I guess not." He plainly states, bringing his hand up to cup your face.

"Go figure." You whisper as you feel his hands on your face.

"Now that we know it's not my fault, can I kiss you?" He leans down, bringing his face closer to yours, his lips hovering over yours.

You are a weak woman, and you know it. It was just one kiss. That didn't mean you forgave him. I mean who are you to deny him one kiss?

You answer his question by hungrily connecting your lips. One of his hands slips into your hair while his other hand slides down to your waist.

Your hands instantly connect with his hair, slightly tugging at his roots and eliciting low grunts from him. He carefully slips his hand under your pale yellow sundress.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you whisper as he kisses your neck, moving to your collarbone. "What if someone finds us? My dad?" you question, worry coating your voice.

"You want me to stop?" He questions, slowly pulling his hand out from under your sundress. You eye him before grabbing his hand and placing it back under your dress, causing him to let out a gruff laugh.

"That's what I thought." He cockily says as he slowly rubs through your underwear, causing you to let out a moan.

"You've got to be quiet now." He continues rubbing light circles. "We would hate to have your dear old dad come in, wouldn't we?" You raise your hand to cover your mouth.

He shakes his head. "Move your hand." He commands. You hesitate for a moment. He raises a brow. You finally oblige, and as you uncover your mouth, he shoves your underwear aside and sticks his finger inside you. Making you open your mouth wide, but he is quick to slam his mouth onto yours, preventing the sound from escaping.

You bring your hands up to lock around his neck for support as he glides his finger in and out of you. He picks up the pace, grunting into your mouth as he feels you tighten around his finger.

"Gettin' close, huh?" He whispers into your mouth. You frantically nod your head. He curls his finger inside you, finally making you release.

He holds you up while you ride down your high, legs too shaky to stand up straight. "You know I'm still mad at you." You say as you place your hand on his shoulder for extra support.

"I know, sweetheart." He nods.

Your legs finally stop shaking, and you are able to stand without his support. Your eyes widen in horror. "What are they going to think? We have both been gone for a while." You start pacing.

"Relax." He gently grabs your shoulder. "They won't know a thing." He assures. You skeptically look at him. He tilts his head.

"You'll be fine. Come on." He guides you to the door and opens it for you.

"So, now what?" You question as you make your way to the backdoor of the house.

"Tell me about college." He says as he opens the door to the house for you.

Even though you were still furious with Simon for essentially ghosting you, you couldn't help the small smile on your lips at the thought of regaining the relationship you once had with him.

"Got a boyfriend yet?" He cheekily says.

Baby steps, you remind yourself.

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

267 notes · View notes

helloitstsyu · 1 year ago

Note

hello, I have a request for a tom cruise x reader fic based on the ariana grande song ‘fantasize’. that’s all, thank you xx

fantasize | Tom Cruise 18+

a/n : goshhhh this req is stuck in my mind for so long. finally I'm able to finish writing itt... i hope it fills your expectations! love the suggestion so much xx.

Pairing : Tom Cruise x f¡reader

Warning : unprotected sex, clothed sex, dirty talks, assume age gap, smut, minor dni!

Polo match.

You always hate when you're dragged to these kinda events. But your dad always insists on bringing you here. And since you just come back from college overseas, you owe it to him for a bit of quality time.

You would much rather stay at home or go out with your friends for a spa day or a pool party. Definitely not this. You feel awkward here and you don't know everyone here except your dad. Dad said it's not just about the game but it's about the networking. And so there he is, leaving you behind as he talks to his colleagues.

The game is about to start. Your dad calls for you. As you walk towards him, you see he's standing next to a man. His hair is perfectly styled. He's wearing a navy suit with a matching navy patterned tie. His eyes covered behind a sunglasses, but you kinda feel something about him is familiar, like you've seen him somewhere or something.

"Tom, i want you to meet my daughter." Dad places his hand behind your waist. Looks at you proudly, "She just came back from Harvard– took a double degree there while running her own business... couldn't get much prouder of my little cupcake." Your dad says.

Your dad has a habit of over-introducing you in front of people. "Dad, you're doing it again," you chuckle awkwardly as you shake your head.

Turning your head, you prolong your hand first for a shake. Shooting the man your most friendliest smile. "Hi, pleasure to meet you, i'm Y/N Y/L/N,"

He takes his glasses off and then shakes your hand.

That face. That eyes. Beat drops. You could feel your heart stop at the sight.

"Hi... I'm Tom,"

Cruise. He is Tom Cruise.

That's why you knew something about him is familiar, he's the freaking Hollywood god.

This shouldn't surprise you– to meet celebrities and all. Your dad works in the business as a producer. But something is different this time. Something is different about Tom Cruise. You almost feel like the air gets hotter. Perhaps it is him being so hot, or perhaps it's the way he stares at you with an intrigue in his eyes.

"So you're the famous Y/N Y/L/N... I've heard so much about you." He says, shooting a friendly smile.

"Yeah? Not the fun part, though," you mutter quietly.

Your dad and Tom both only stay silent and look at you, processing what you've just said.That came out of nowhere. The moment you realized you've said it, you regret it.

A few seconds pass with silence, but thankfully, your dad breaks into a laughter, lightening up the intense situation. "You're funny, sweetheart," your dad says. He must've not gotten the hidden intent behind what you said.

Tom however, just chuckles a little and a ghost smile appears on his face, his eyes light up as if he's enjoying some private humor. "Well.. I'd love to know more," Tom says. His gaze is unwavering and intense.

The event host then announces that the game is about to be started. You take your seat next to your dad. Tom is sitting a couple rows down from you, that doesn't stop you from keeping your eyes glued at him all the time.

For some reason, your heart is pounding mercilessly. You curse at yourself for being so stupid, muttering things out of your mouth before you think more about it. The way Tom gazed at you makes you feel some type of way, you're mentally and physically weak.

The way Tom moves a couple rows down there, the way he runs his fingers to his hair, the way his eyes dead-locked-focused watching the game as he chews a gum. That eyes, that jawline, that hair — Everything about this man just attracts every single bit of your cell. You're actually feeling all hot and horny right now.

Your mind starts to play on its own. Imagining what those lips would taste like. Imagining to run your fingers through that brunette strands. Imagining yourself getting fucked in this VIP little box — him pinning you down, he'd make you moaning hard, he'd pound mercilessly to you as he licks your moaning mouth. Oh, you'd give anything for him.

The loud cheer of the audience as the game ends awakes you back into reality. Somehow, you miss the whole game having your own preferred one in your head.

As you're about to leave your box, Tom comes to you and your dad again. Making some casual talks about the game and how great it was. You just stand there silence, still recovering from that heavy game you played in your mind.

"Cupcake," your dad turns around and calls for you, "If it's okay... i invite Tom to our lunch, i still have some business to discuss with him. I hope you're okay with it."

Before you can answer, your dad's phone rings. "Shit... hang on, sweetheart,"

"It's all fine, dad. I'll just go wait in the car." You say. You know whenever your dad's phone rings, that'll take some time. So rather than spending here talking with Tom and risking yourself to be flustered and caught in the open. You'd rather go back to your car and chill alone.

You get in your car and quickly turn on the air conditioning to the fullest setting. You sigh heavily.

You try to shake the picture of him in your head, trying to stop this feeling. You take a long breath in and just look at yourself from the rearview mirror. For some reason, you still feel horny. As if this feeling is not gonna go away until you're fed.

Looking around there's no one here around the parking lot. So you do what you gotta do to help yourself. You move to the back seat and lay down comfortably. You shut your eyes close and hoping that Tom is here. Hoping that Tom knows what he did to you, the feeling he inflicted on you.

All of a sudden, your door just pulled open, startling you to open your eyes and sit up. To your much surprise, it's Tom. He is ducking his head in.

"Tom? Wh-what are you doing?" You cluelessly ask.

"What needs to be done," he retorts in hushed voice.

He gets in and slams back the door close. In one quick motion, he lunges at you, grabs you by your face and kisses you. His lips on yours feel so soft and so burning at the same time— addicting, that's what he tastes like. You moan into his mouth, giving him just enough the opening. His tongue expertly exploring your mouth.

You have never been kissed like this. Your tongue tentatively plays back and joins his in an erotic movement. He gently pushes you back till you're laying down flat on the back seat with him on top of you. You're helpless, you're all pinned down, and he's restraining you with his whole body. You wrap your legs around his hips, allowing him to completely have his body pressed to yours. His hand explores your body, trailing the length of your thigh to your hips. Feeling something hardering, nudging you, you couldnt help to grind your center to his cock.

He hiss against your mouth. But Tom doesn't stop you or anything, rather he moves to kiss all over your chin, moving to your neck. The moment he sucks and nibs your sensitive skin, he got your eyes rolling back. You grip onto his jacket and swallows your edging moan.

"Tom..." you mutter.

Tom asks. Kiss more of your neck.

"Yes, darling?" Tom whispers in your ear before he gently bites your earlobe. Earning your jaw falls agape. He moves again to your collar bone, kissing you in the softest-teasing way.

He breathes against your flushed chest. His breath is hot, just like the way he makes you feel right now. He lays a soft, gentle kiss all across your flushed chest. Lowering himself even more as he gradually pulls your dress down along his way till your breast finally uncovered. He softly gasps at the sight of you. He glances to your eyes, lust covers in his gaze, before he places a kiss around your nipple.

You hiss, fingers grip onto his jacket.The moment he flick his tongue then sucks your nipple, you couldn't hold in your moan even more. "Ohh!" You moan.

Tom pushes himself off your neck and looks back into your eyes. "Come on, Y/N, show me how fun you can be," he challenges.

And just like that, the switch is being made. You turn off all of the good girl sides about you and this lust overdriving you into some dangerous character that'll put you in trouble. You pull him back to your lips and kiss him passionately. Your hands quickly run his body, feeling the toned muscles underneath. 60 or something, it is a joke that he's looking this damn hot at this age. You rub him from outside his pants.

You could feel Tom smirking against your lips. "Good girl," he chuckles.

You hurriedly take off his belt. Him helping you too. You push his trousers down just enough till you can grab his hard shaft and pulls it out from the torment of its lack of space. Tom groans as you wrap your hand around him. Fuck, he's big. And so hard. You pump his cock and spread his precum all over his shaft.

"Is that what you want?" Tom asks.

Glancing back to his eyes, you nod. "I want you to fuck me,"

A content smile appears on his face. He pushes your panties to the side and just pushes himself through your folds without warning.

"Ahh!" You squal uncomfortably to the unfamiliar size of him, gripping onto his shoulder.

Tom quickly bottoms out, pushing all the way of him inside of you. He doesn't wait for you to adjust to his size. He starts to pound his hips mercilessly into you, fucking you in a relentless pace.

"Ohhh! Fuck! ToOoMMm!" You shut your eyes and titled your head back.

"Yes! Yes! That's it moan my name!" He grins loving the way your face contorts to pleasure drunk. "You wanted my cock the moment you laid your eyes on me, huh? Looking at me with all of that slutty eyes, you know what you're doing, darling," he says to your ears as his cock pounds mercilessly to your tight channel.

You couldn't reply to him even if you wanted to. You only look back to him and nod.

"Oh, T-tom!" You cry. Tears dripping down your cheek.

"Fuck, Y/N" he groans. Tom holds your face. He presses his lips to yours again, silencing you from screaming loud.

He got you a moaning mess that you don't care if someone could hear you or see this little scene in your car. You never fucked like this before. So good that you'd do anything to have him fuck you like this again and again. You'd give your pussy for him, five to nine, nine to five. Tom fucks you like the way you fantasize your filthiest fantasies.

You feel your walls clenching hard. And the white hot pleasure becomes too unbearable to hold back. A few more thrust, and you're spilling all over. You squal all over the car. Knees clamping together as all of your muscles tighten.

You never have orgasm like that. It is by far your most intense that after the pinnacle, you feel bliss. For a few seconds, the room is so quiet — so peaceful...

You open your eyes and stare at the roof of your car. All of a sudden, like a slap to your face, waking you back into reality, your door is pulled open from the outside. Quickly, you sit up and try to fix yourself, push down your dress and all but it is all helpless. You're so caught right-handed. Looking up, the person who caught you right-handed guilty is the one you hope for dear life it wont be— Tom Cruise. He's peering down, slightly bending to meet your eyes.

You feel so embarrassed that you couldn't even feel a thing or think anything.

"Your dad wanted me to tell you lunch is off... meetings." He tells.

You just sit there feeling like you're slowly crippling to die. The optimistic side of you still whispers that perhaps he didn't see nothing. You have a tinted window afterall.... do you?

Tom gaze down at you with that light up, amused emerald eyes. Then slightly the corner of his lips pulled up to a smirk, like he's been there for a while and just watched you pleasuring yourself.

"Have a great day, Y/N," he mischievously smiles and closes back your door.

#tom cruise #tom cruise x reader #tom cruise fanfiction #tom cruise smut #pete maverick mitchell #tom cruise fic #tom cruise x female reader #top gun maverick #pete mitchell x reader #maverick x reader #daddy smut #tom cruise fanfic #tom cruise fluff #ethan hunt fic #ethan hunt

599 notes · View notes

eddie-stinks-munson · 4 months ago

Text

Summer Depression- Eddie Munson

Prompt: Sharing Each Others Clothes Eddie Munson x Reader Word Count: 638 Tags: Fluff, Sad Sweetness (?) Reader is not gender specific, no y/n I don't think it's my best but my wife likes it

---

The sun was setting and there was a crisp breeze to the air, fall was right on the horizon. You’d spent the entire summer causing chaos all over Hawkins with your friends, from dusk til dawn. Now that summer was coming to a close, you couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sadness begin to color your days.

You looked out over the lake, the sounds of your friends laughing and yelling in the woods behind you fading away as you got lost in your thoughts. Camping wasn’t your favorite activity, but you couldn’t think of a better way to close out the season than drinking and playing games with your friends, far away from the stresses of the real world.

A chill ran down your spine as a breeze blew by, pushing out what felt like the last of the summer heat, and welcoming in the cool night air. You quickly rubbed your hands up and down the length of your arms, trying in vain, to keep the heat from escaping.

You wanted to pretend that summer would never end, school would never come, and you could carry on- blissfully free of the responsibility and social conventions that came along with life going back to business as usual. As the cold settled in your bones, so did a sense of dread.

“You cold, Sweetheart?” A familiar voice called out from behind you, startling you out of your depressing ruminations.

“A little,” you replied, hugging yourself tighter and trying to suppress a shiver.

Eddie’s arms wrapped around you, engulfing your entire body in his warmth. You naturally melted into his embrace and sighed deeply. Taking in the scent that was so uniquely him: weed, campfire, and oreo cookies.

“More than a little,” Eddie mumbled, squeezing you tighter “Jesus Christ, you’re freezing.”

Before you could say anything, he was backing away and clumsily pulling his hoodie over his head. Only getting stuck for a minute in the process. You giggled as you watched, and Eddie playfully scowled, and gently threw the garment at you in a way that was so over the top you weren’t quite sure how he even managed to do it.

“I’m okay Eds, really,” you protested, involuntarily hugging the toasty material to your chest.

“I insist,” Eddie countered, “what kind of man lets his best friend freeze to death right in front of him.”

“Fine,” you conceded. Honestly there was little use in arguing with Eddie when he put his mind to something. Especially when it came to your safety or comfort.

You slipped the sweatshirt over your head, and let the hood conceal your eyes for a moment. Eddie’s laughter got closer, and you could feel his breath on your face.

“It looks good on you,” Eddie mused, gently taking the hood down, and looking at you with a soft smile.

You stared back up at him with the same tender fondness, “thank you.”

His deep brown eyes seemed to sparkle in the moonlight, and your bodies slowly gravitated toward each other, like the pull of the tides. Eddie’s hands gripped the hood as if it was the only thing keeping him tethered to this world as his lips ghosted over yours, and his breath tickled your nose.

You closed the distance between you, savoring the heat of his plush lips against yours. The kiss was soft, sweet, and filled with anticipation. Your heart fluttered in your chest and for a moment you’d forgotten how to breathe. When you pulled away, your foreheads stayed pressed together, the both of you frozen in time.

Still not daring to move- because if you moved you might wake up and this will all have been a dream- Eddie whispered, “I’ve been waiting all summer to do that.”

Maybe the end of summer wasn’t that bad after all.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #idk what else to tag this #Eddie Munson Fluff

117 notes · View notes

wolfjackle-creates · 8 months ago

Text

Answer My Call Chapter 3 part 1

Happy WIP Wednesday! Answer My Call won by all one one vote last week. I was a bit nervous since I'm starting a new POV and I wasn't sure if I wanted to write from Tucker's POV or Tim's, but I settled on Tucker because it would let me dive into the action a bit sooner.

Story Summary: Danny's missing. The GIW have taken over Amity. Jazz, Tucker, and Sam are under constant surveillance and have been scattered across the country.

When Jazz's messages to Danny go to the wrong number, Red Hood decides to step in.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.6k

-----

Tucker was alone in his dorm room working on homework. His desk was in the corner in a way that meant his computer screen faced the wall. It meant he had barely three feet of space to sit in, but after everything that had happened, he couldn’t let anyone sneak up behind him to spy on his work.

His roommate hated him for it because it took up so much extra space in their small room, but he was never around anyway, so Tucker didn’t really care what he thought.

He jumped when a loud knocking sounded on his door.

“Coming!” he called out as he took the time to save everything he had open and close all programs. He slammed it shut and squeezed out of his chair, half running to the door. “Sorry ‘bout the wait. Tyler isn’t here right now, I think he said something about spending time with Liz?”

Then he actually looked at the people at his door. The one was a broad boy wearing a spiked leather jacket over jeans. The other had a bulky sweatshirt on and a baseball cap. His face was shadowed as he was looking down at a tablet, typing away.

The bigger one was grinning at him. “You’re Tucker, right? We’re here to see you, not Tyler.”

Tucker blinked at them. “Why?” he asked, confused. People had given up on being friendly with him weeks ago.

The boy with the tablet huffed. “We’re here to invite you to our club.”

Tucker looked between them in confusion. “What?”

Tablet guy still didn’t look up. “We heard you like ghosts. We’re the officers of the student horror club and wanted to offer you a spot. Mind letting us in so we can tell you about it?”

Tucker rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m not interested in joining any clubs right now. Thanks, but no thanks.” He went to shut the door, but leather jacket stuck out his foot, keeping it from shutting.

“Just hear us out. We think you’d be perfect for it as an expert on ghosts.”

Tucker clenched his fists to hide their shaking. What did they know? Who sent them? He glared. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Tablet boy raised his head slightly, revealing a domino mask covering his eyes. He grinned, more a baring of teeth than anything. In a tone just loud enough to be heard, he said, “One of my associates is currently in Boston. I decided to come here instead.” In a normal ton he added, “Let me tell you about the horror club.”

Tucker’s mouth fell open. How? Boston? What had Jazz done? His eyes flitted down the hallway. But they were blocking his path and he wouldn’t be able to get past them. Dumbly, he stepped back, opening the door further.

Leather jacket grinned at him. “Thanks, dude,” he said.

Behind them, Tucker shut the door. His hand fell to his pocket where a lipstick laser was hidden.

Tablet boy was already pulling the blinds down over the window. When done, he handed his tablet to Tucker. It was open to a message that said: “We’re on your side. Turn off your devices. I’m going to set off a EMP and signal jammer.”

Tucker nodded and handed the tablet back.

Leather Jacket cleared his throat. “So, with the horror club, we meet once a week…”

Tucker only half-listened to his spiel. He used his phone to send a coded warning to Dani before turning it off. Then he went through his belongings and did the same to every laptop, PDA, tablet, and gaming system. If he turned on a ghostly recording device hidden inside an action figure, however, no one would know.

As soon as he was done, he nodded to Tablet Guy who pulled out a black cube from his backpack and pressed a button. The he pulled out another device and turned that on as well.

“That’s enough, Kon,” he said, pulling off his cap.

Leather Jacket—Kon?—grinned. “What, you don’t want to hear about my favorite horror movie, Rob?”

“I introduced you to your favorite horror movie. I know it as well as you do.”

Kon just laughed. Then he unzipped his jacket, revealing a blue outfit with Superman’s “S” on it.

“Holy shit,” breathed Tucker. What had Jazz done?

Tablet guy followed, pulling off his cap and removing his hoodie, revealing a red costume with a gold bird medallion in the center of his chest. “Nice to meet you, Tucker. I’m Red Robin, and this is Superboy. I’ve got some questions for you.”

Tucker’s eyes jumped between the two. “Holy shit,” he repeated.

Superboy laughed. “Didn’t expect to see us?”

Tucker could only shake his head. “You said Boston?” he asked.

“Red Hood is with Jazz as we speak. She asked for our help in rescuing Danny. We agreed.”

Tucker tensed. He was lying. They’d talked about reaching out to the Justice League dozens of times, but had decided they couldn’t be trusted. Jazz wouldn’t have gone to them. He reached into his pocked and pulled out the lipstick.

Both heroes tensed, though their wariness turned to confusion when they saw he only had a small lipstick tube.

Good, let them underestimate him. “Jazz wouldn’t go to the Justice League. We agreed it wasn’t safe. Why are you really here?”

Red Robin grinned at him and held up his hands. “All right, you’re right. I simplified for time’s sake. Jazz has been sending messages to a phone number she thought belonged to her brother Danny. But really, they were going to Red Hood. He’d been getting them for ages now, but was…out of town. As soon as he got back, he began looking into Amity and the GIW. When he couldn’t find anything, he brought me in on the case. When that still didn’t work, we called Jazz back. She decided to take a chance on us since Red Hood doesn’t work with the government. And, honestly, I’ve done quite a bit outside the law, too, even if I’m not as public about it.”

Tucker’s grip on the lipstick tightened and he stuck his nail under the cap, ready to flick it off at a moment’s notice. “Prove it.”

Red Robin pulled up his tablet again and tapped a few places. An audio recording started to play.

Tucker stopped breathing when he recognized Jazz’s voice. He closed his eyes and just listened. When he heard her demand a picture and the pose she asked for, he huffed out a laugh.

The recording ended and he slid the lipstick back into his pocket and wiped at his eyes.

“Okay, I believe you. What’s the plan?”

“Right now we want to make sure you, Jazz, and Sam are safe and find out as much information as we can.”

Tucker nodded. “I’m not as closely watched as Jazz. The school keeps close track of us students and the Guys in White rely on their records. Though they do have an agent stationed in admin who checks up on me at least once a week. I don’t keep my most sensitive belongings in this dorm as it’s searched every other week.”

Red Robin grinned at him. It sent shivers down Tucker’s back. “Does that mean your real stuff is kept somewhere else?”

Tucker smirked. “Of course. Cover yourselves back up; we need to go.”

Red Robin did something with his jammer and EMP and then began talking excitedly about the horror club again. “So glad you’ve agreed to come to our next meeting, Tucker! We’ve been trying to build the club.”

Superboy winked at him. “What do you say we get to know each other a bit before then? Want to come play video games with us?”

Tucker bit his lip and looked towards his desk and laptop as if he were undecided. “I should get back to my homework…”

“Oh, come on, it’ll still be there tomorrow,” said Red Robin. “Let’s go.” He looked back down at his tablet and headed towards the door, grabbing Tucker’s hand as he did.

Tucker looked over his shoulder one last time, but let himself be pulled along. They kept conversation light as they exited the building. Red Robin was an expert at angling his baseball cap to hide his masked face from every camera they passed.

Would he be willing to teach Tucker how to do that?

Once outside, Tucker took the lead. One of the first things he’d done after he’d been enrolled was memorize blueprints for every building on campus. On top of that, he’d made himself a good dozen different IDs. Three of those were copies of other students’. Those students he kept close track of to make sure their records didn’t show them in two places at once. Other ones belonged to various faculty and staff members. But his pride and joy was the one that belonged to Gabriel Carter. Gabriel was a janitor at the Academy and so could access any building. Gabriel also didn’t exist.

It was Gabriel’s ID that got them access to the basement level of one of the buildings. Hidden deep in the building was a set of rooms currently not in use. And in one of those rooms was a closet.

Tucker had built the locks on the door himself and, even having all the keys and codes, it took five minutes to get in.

He smirked when Red Robin himself let out a gasp of surprise at his set up.

-----

Hope you enjoyed!

Now, how did Kon get involved? Easy. Tim used the zeta tube from the cave to Titans Tower. Kon happened to be there. When Tim said he was working a case with Red Hood, the guy who tried to kill him once, Kon insisted on coming along. I debated having other members of the Young Justice, but I'm actually trying to keep character counts down for this one, so...

Check out the subscription post if you want a notification when I update!

#dpxdc #answer my call #wolf writes #tucker has learned a healthy dose of paranoia #his roommate tyler hates him #spends most of his time outside the dorm because of it #tucker enjoys basically having a single #he isn't able to relate to regular teens anymore #too used to fighting supernatural beings #and being persecuted by the government #and he doesnt want to be here #so he doesnt try to make friends #and discourages anyone from getting close to him

157 notes · View notes

badomensbaby · 9 months ago

Text

so into you. lrh

pairing: luke hemmings x fem!reader

summary: luke hemmings, a voice actor you've been working closely with for quite some time, ends up confessing just how into you he really is.

warnings: 18+ only. minors DNI. flirting/flustering, protected smut, degradation, praise kink, slight sir kink, dom/sub undertones, swearing, oral sex (female receiving), mask kink, explicit sexual content.

words: 4,680

a/n: iiiiii cannot express where i came up with this idea. i don't mention explicitly in this fic what video game luke's working on but in my head, it's COD MW3. (i may have a small obsession with ghost. whatever.) but alas, i left this fic alone for like a week and finished it on a whim. enjoy. x

feedback and constructive criticism welcome. requests are open!

Ah, Luke Hemmings, the bane of your existence.

It’s not that you hate him or anything, unless feeling so sick to your stomach because he’s too damn pretty to be working as a voice actor counts as hate, then maybe. But it’s really quite the opposite.

You’ve been working at the video game development studio for almost two years. Your title has changed far too many times, as well as your responsibilities, but you get to see ideas come to life from the loose concept to the console screen so you can’t complain too much.

Right now, you’re in the middle of a contract for a multiplayer war game. It’s a sequel, or a prequel- whatever, it doesn’t really matter. The franchise has been around for ages but they’re always coming up with new content and it’s part of your job to make sure every voice and cgi actor are dressed and ready to perform accordingly.

Even though your manager can be a little overkill, like how he demands any voice actor be in full dress while they’re in the recording booth. It really doesn’t do much for their performance but your manager refuses to listen.

You’re in the middle of skimming through your to-do list for the day. There’s three people who still need to get some lines of dialogue done for the storyline of the video game so it’s your responsibility to make sure they don’t fuck around in the booth all afternoon. First up, and is already late, is none other than Luke.

It doesn’t surprise you. Despite looking like a total diva with his sharp jaw and soft, fluffy blonde curls that seem to be immune to any humidity, always laying so perfectly, he was probably the sweetest guy in the industry you’d ever met. Always polite and charming. Sometimes you think he might be flirting with you but it’s likely he’s just that nice.

A paper cup of branded coffee suddenly invades your vision, blocking your view of the list you’ve been working on all morning. It’s warm and smells like cinnamon, your favorite. Looking up, way way up because he’s impossibly tall, is Luke, with a half-crooked smile and bright blue eyes.

“Mornin’ Miss Y/N,” he says, despite the cheeriness on his face his voice is slightly raspy. You try not to think about it too much. It’s only eight am and you’re stuck listening to Luke in the booth until noon. “Blonde roast with cinnamon. You still drink that, right?”

Skeptically, you take the cup from him. Luke doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest by your hesitance. “Thank you?” It’s meant to be a statement but it slips out as more of a question. “Is this why you’re late, Hemmings?”

A glint of mischief flickers in his eyes. “Why, were you worried about me?”

Your stomach seems to flutter rather easily at his words. Shut up, brain! Luke’s a coworker, stop it. “We’ve only got four hours in the booth and almost fifty lines of dialogue,” You roll your eyes, trying to remain professional. “We need every minute we can get.”

“Fair enough, I’ll go get dressed. Have you got my gear ready?” Luke sips at his own drink and you can smell it from where you stand only a foot away. Chai tea latte with hazelnut. Man has taste.

“Yeah,” You clear your throat, trying to keep your eyes away from the frothy milk of his latte dribbling down the side of his lip. Christ. “Yeah everything’s ready to go. Just get your gear on and meet me in the booth.”

“Aye aye, captain,” The blonde mock-salutes you with a wink, before heading off to his dressing room down the hall. Thankful for the ability to properly breathe again, you quickly shake your head and go inside of the small recording studio and begin to organize the dialogue Luke’s meant to be working on this morning.

It’s almost as if you forget how to operate when Luke steps into the small room. It’s only the two of you today, as the sound technician won’t be in until later but you have a decent grasp on which recorded lines will sound best in the final production.

Luke’s already absurdly tall, well over six feet but with his full gear on he’s pushing halfway to seven feet. With thick combat boots on his feet, and full camo gear covering every inch of his lengthy body. A thick, heavy armor carrier plate is fixed against his chest, and his mask is held loosely in his hand. You force yourself to swallow the thick lump stuck in your throat.

“Can you turn the air on?” Luke asks, oblivious to how you’re struggling to breathe when he looks like that. “M’gonna fuckin’ roast in there if you don’t.”

“Yeah- yeah, sure,” You stumble both verbally and physically, barely managing to catch yourself as you twist behind you to turn the air a little cooler in the small room. It won’t help the flush that’s spreading across every inch of your body. You can’t face him yet, so you pretend like changing the temperature is a little more time consuming than it really is. “You can go ahead whenever.”

The sound booth’s door shuts with a soft click. Your heart’s beating a little hard but at least there’s thick glass separating yourself and Luke now, and once you’re sitting with headphones on you’ll barely be able to see him. God, what a terrible time to remember that stupid masked man fantasy of yours.

Luke does well, as usual, hitting the perfect low pitch for his character that your manager hired him for. He plays the character well, you have to admit, hearing his voice rasped and grovely is almost too much. You lower the volume on the headphones just to spare yourself the embarrassment of getting worked up.

It’s eleven-thirty when he finishes up. Every line of dialogue is near perfect and you’re sure they’ll make production without a hitch, so you have no qualms about turning off the recording light that illuminates the hall outside of the small studio.

You’re in the process of organizing the recorded files for the sound technician to look over when Luke steps out of the booth.

Instead of peeling the mask from his head, he left it on, his gloved hands clasped on the doorframe a few inches above his head. Christ, he looks like he stepped out of a fairly inappropriate fantasy dream you could conjure up after a glass or two of wine. “Even got time to spare.”

You can tell Luke’s smirking beneath the black and white mask, if the glimmer in his baby blue eyes is anything to go by. You just blink, too dumb to come up with anything to say, pulling the headphones to rest around your neck. “Uh- you- you did great.”

“Thanks, Miss Y/N,” his head cocks, helmet almost knocking into the side of the door frame but Luke doesn’t notice. “I love when you compliment me. I know you mean it.”

Your cheeks feel hot. It’s too warm in here, that’s all. Maybe the air isn’t working or something. “I do mean it,” you say softly. “You’re a great voice actor. I’d be lying if I said otherwise.”

Luke drops his hands from the door frame, instead leaning against it, his eyes still fixed on you. “You okay over there? You look a bit flushed.”

“M’fine sir- Luke,” You quickly clear your throat, hoping Luke hadn’t caught your stupid slip up. How fucking embarrassing, do you not have a filter? Suddenly a man all dressed up in gear and a mask has you calling him sir? Get a grip!

“Sir?” Luke echoes, his voice syrupy sweet and laced with curiosity. “That’s a new one. Usually all I get from you is Hemmings. I like that, you should call me sir more often.”

You want to look away but it’s impossible. Like a damn car crash, your eyes are fixated on the tall man. It’s fucking sinful how good he looks like that. “It was- it was nothing, don’t read into it.” You deflect.

“Yeah, okay,” Luke says sarcastically, followed up by a slow, dramatic sigh. “It’s a shame, though. Figured you’d finally admit you’re into me so I can stop pining after you in silence.”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

A low laugh erupts from Luke’s chest. “Don’t tell me you’re that oblivious, Y/N. I’ve been obsessed with you since day one. Why do you think we’re always working together?”

“My manager said I’m doing well-“

“That was after I gave him season passes to every game the Dodgers play, sweetheart. Told him I won’t work for him unless m’with you.”

Your brows knit in confusion. Has your growth within your position all been at Luke’s doing? You’ve been working with him nearly as long as you’ve been with the company. And suddenly it all makes sense.

Why your manager never seemed to care what you’ve been working so hard for, complimenting you regardless of any efforts shown to him. Why he doesn’t hang around the studio anymore to micromanage your every move.

You stand abruptly. “You asshole!” The words escape without a second thought. “You bribed my manager so you could work with me? That’s- that’s…”

“I thought you’d be flattered,” Luke says, almost somberly but you know he’s anything but. He’s a voice actor for crying out loud, he can make himself sound however he wants, regardless if it’s real. “What’s the big deal anyway? You have almost total freedom and you’re stuck with me all the time. It’s a win-win.”

Whatever attraction you have towards Luke is pushed to the back burner of your mind. Yeah, you have a stupid crush on him but how could he meddle with your job like that? The two of you aren’t even friends, he had no right.

“That wasn’t your decision to make. Who knows now if I’m doing well because of me or because of you? Terry could be spewing bullshit about my performance reviews to keep you happy!”

“You’re being dramatic,” Luke drones lazily. “Of course you’re doing well because of you. All I did was keep us working together, s’not like I fucking paid Terry off to give you a promotion.”

“I don’t know that!” You yell frustratedly, fists balling at your sides. “God- you- take that fucking mask off, would you?”

Luke remains still. “Now why would I do that?” he asks lowly, stepping toward you. Your shoulders draw inward, despite your attempt to keep confident. “Clearly it’s distracting you. Which I think is working in my favor.”

“It’s not.” You mutter weakly.

“Liars aren’t cute,” Luke tuts. “What, does my mask get you all hot and bothered, Miss Y/N? Huh? Because I’m bigger than you? Because I can do anything I want to you and you can’t stop me?”

“Luke-“

“Tell me I’m wrong, Y/N,” his voice impossibly lowers, until it’s a hushed rasp, his chest only a mere few inches from yours. Craning your neck to look up at him easily makes you weak in the knees. You know he’s right and you can’t find the words to tell him otherwise. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Your lip quivers nervously. The words are right there, the lie you could easily spew but it won’t make it off of your tongue. His eyes are too dark to resist, swirls of pretty blue swallowed by his pupils. Blown out and expectant. “You..”

“You can’t, can you? Because you know I’m right,” Luke continues, clearly feeding off of the nerves you’re trying to swallow down. It’s written all over your face, you’re sure of it. Like a book printed in size twenty bold font. “I’m not stupid, Y/N. I see the way you look at me. I watch you quiver every time I put my gear on,”

Nothing escapes you except a helpless, trembling whimper. One of Luke’s gloved hands slowly raises to push a strand of loose hair behind your ear. Your eyes are nearly brimming with tears of frustration, of how badly you’re ready to give in to him, of how stupid you feel, wet and desperate between your thighs. It’s the mask, you try to tell yourself, but it’s useless because you know damn well it’s a lie.

It isn’t the mask, rather the person behind it. Luke’s probably the most attractive person you’ve met in a long time, it was inevitable you’d end up crushing on him, but when he’s in full dress you can’t deny there’s something inside of you that seems to light a flame inside of you that’s impossible to put out.

“What is it you like so much, hm?” Luke’s head cocks curiously, his cloudy eyes slowly raking over your body. You can tell he’s smirking beneath the mask at how tightly your hands are balled into fists at your sides, holding yourself back from doing something you shouldn’t. “You know what I think? I think you like giving up control. Obeying. Submitting. And when I’m dressed like this you really have no choice but to listen to me.”

“Luke..” your lips weakly spew the man’s name out. He seems to hum in content, he knows you’re close to giving in. He wants to push you over that line. Cross it with no shame. “I..”

Luke’s gloved hand grasps your jaw, firmly but delicately, so much so that it makes your head feel dizzy. “Speak up,” he demands lowly. “Tell me what you want.”

“I..” You can hardly meet his eyes. It’s pathetic of you, trembling like this and stuttering over yourself. Luke knows it too. “I want.. you.”

“Me?” He echoes, but it sounds a little demeaning the way it falls from his mouth. “You’re not giving me much to work with here, Y/N. Better spit it out.”

“I.. want..” Your eyes threaten to fall shut. You’ve never really been confident when it comes to sex but there’s something about the way Luke’s speaking to you that makes you feel a bit bold. Maybe it’s a leap but fuck, you won’t know unless you try.

With a trembling, hesitant hand, you grasp Luke’s unoccupied wrist, slowly drawing his hand downwards until it’s caressing your clothed core. “You. Please.”

Luke actually whimpers. It could easily be mistaken for a breathy sigh but you’ve been listening to this man’s every vocality for years, you know nearly every noise he can make. “Christ, Y/N,” It’s as if he wasn’t expecting your bold move. “I swear to God I’ll fuck you right here. I will, if you’ll let me.”

“Yeah- yes,” You frantically nod, too dizzy to provide any other words of confirmation. It’s all Luke needs, really, before he’s pressing his hand harder against your damp underwear, warm and inviting, he swears he can almost feel your arousal through his glove. “Luke, please.”

“Yeah, m’gonna take care of you, promise,” Luke releases your jaw, working to strip his gloves from his hands. You almost whimper from the loss of contact but you know what’s coming next is far better than a measly touch outside of your pants. “Gonna be a good girl for me, Y/N?”

You whimper out something along the lines of “yes” that Luke seems to be satisfied with because he’s planting a firm hand on your shoulder and spinning you around, using his grip to shove your body forward until your palms collide with the sound booth’s desk. Careful to avoid pressing any buttons you shouldn’t, you adjust yourself slightly, breaths heavy as Luke shuffles behind you.

You can feel how hard he is through the thick, camo pants he’s wearing, cock strained against the fabric and digging into your backside. Your toes curl inside of your shoes. He feels big. You feel Luke’s fingers tease at the waistband of your jeans. “Can I?”

“Yes- fuck,” You mutter through gritted teeth. There isn’t anything for you to properly hold on to while Luke’s fingers work to unbutton and unzip your jeans, before shimmying them down your hips and the swell of your ass, leaving them pooled just above your knees.

“Don’t have a lot of time, Y/N, Mark’s up next isn’t he?” Luke slowly teases his fingers along the dampened material of your underwear, resulting in the soft arch of your back as your hips move closer to him. “Such a shame. The things I’d do for a taste of that pretty pussy..”

“Luke, can you just-“ You’re filled to the brim with frustration, desperately wet and on the edge of bratty at the amount of time Luke’s wasting. He seems to understand easily, because a hand comes down on your left cheek, leaving a pretty little pink handprint on your skin.

“Don’t be a fuckin’ brat,” Luke says around a scoff, sliding your underwear down to join your jeans a little rougher than necessary. “Just for that, m’gonna fuckin’ do it. Don’t care if Mark comes in here to see my tongue deep inside your needy cunt.”

Luke’s words are sent straight to your core, stupidly wet and braindead from how badly you’re soaking the skin between your thighs. You hear the sound of Luke’s knees hitting the carpeted floor, the sound of his mask shuffling and the feeling of his warm breath on your flushed skin.

Luke’s thumbs sink into your flesh easily, spreading you fully for him, your body falling further forward and ass in the air. You know you’re glistening pathetically, all for a hot blonde voice actor in some stupid war gear. “Y/N, you’re fuckin’ drenched. Holy shit,” Luke mumbles in disbelief. “You’re so goddamn pretty.”

You aren’t sure if Luke’s going to continue speaking but it doesn’t matter, his tongue’s busy trailing a fat, long stripe along your heat. Christ, his tongue is so goddamn warm, humming happily against you as he works, alternating between suckling your clit between his teeth and nuzzling his nose against you. Like he just can’t get enough.

Blindly, your hand slips and without either of you being aware, the recording light outside of the small room has been illuminated.

“You taste so fucking good, Y/N. So goddamn good,” He hums again before diving back in, practically fucking his tongue inside of you every which way, like he’s claiming you and drawing his name with every lick. You let out a soft, helpless cry when his teeth graze your clit again. “Could eat your pretty pussy for hours, baby. Wanna spread you out on my bed like a fuckin’ feast.”

“Luke-“ Your voice wobbles, a desperate breath following. You’re so fucking lightheaded it’s insane, all you crave is Luke inside of you. “Luke, please. Please fuck me.”

“Yeah baby, gonna fuck you,” Luke presses a quick, messy kiss against your clit before he pulls back, running his tongue along his lips to gather any excess. You don’t hear him slip the mask back on but you definitely hear his belt unbuckle, along with the fly of his camo pants. “Look at you, what a fuckin’ dream. Bent over and fuckin’ soaked, begging for my cock.”

The sound of Luke tearing a condom packet open with his teeth catches your attention. You hardly have enough strength to look over your shoulder but he’s already rolling the latex over his dick that’s just out of your view. “Where did you get-“ You don’t get to finish your sentence because the words die out in your throat, replaced with a strangled gasp as you feel the head of Luke’s cock slowly trail up your wetness. “Oh, fuck.”

Luke makes a smug, pleased sound before slowly pressing inside of you. And yeah, fuck, he’s definitely bigger than anyone you’ve slept with. Which, honestly, hasn’t been very many people. “Yeah, that’s it,” You hear Luke sigh behind you, hands attaching to your hips as he continues to feed his dick further inside. “Fuck, you’re swallowing my cock up. So desperate for it, aren’t you?”

It’s almost too much. Your eyes pinch shut, teeth sinking into your lower lip to keep the tears at bay. He’s stretching you out so good every inch he sinks inside, until he’s buried to the hilt and stills his hips. “Luke.. fuck, you’re- you’re big.”

You hear Luke chuckle behind you. His fingertips press harder into your hips. “What’s the point of being so cocky if I don’t have anything to show for it?” he says, amused but a little breathless. He’s just as affected by your tight warmth as you are by his sizable dick. “Don’t tell me it’s too much for you, Y/N. You’re a big girl, I know you can take it.”

“Just.. give me a minute?”

“We don’t have enough time, baby,” Luke says soothingly, almost somberly. “I promise you’ll get used to it.”

You intake a sharp, quick breath as Luke withdraws his hips. It’s definitely too big. There’s no way you’ll be able to fuck anyone ever again without remembering how full Luke made you feel.

Then Luke snaps his hips forward and the tears you were desperately trying to hold back fall freely down your cheeks. A borderline scream falls from your mouth and you tighten around his dick, only drawing a groan deep from Luke’s throat as he begins thrusting in a steady, needy rhythm.

So quick and forceful that the sound of his hips snapping against your backside echoes the sound room. So desperate that your body falls forward, chest splayed against the desk and Luke’s carrier plate wedged into your back, his masked breaths deep and warm on your neck. You cry out from the new angle, hitting that perfect spot inside of you. “Oh fuck- Luke- god- right there, fuck-“

“Yeah?” Luke asks in a low moan, digging his blunt fingernails into your waist as his thrusts grow more determined and quick, your body rucking upwards from his forceful movements. All you can do is wail and whine against the desk helplessly. “God, Y/N, you feel so good wrapped around my cock. Lettin’ me fuck you, such a good girl.”

Your position is definitely uncomfortable but you’re too cockdrunk to even care. You know you’ll cum soon, especially when Luke’s fucking you at such a brutal pace there’s a tingling that’s spreading from your toes all the way to your spine. You clench around Luke’s cock, only soaking your thighs further as more arousal coats his covered length.

“Baby, fuck,” Luke’s voice is strained, one hand detaching from your hip to grab at your hair, fisting the strands between his fingers, craning your neck upwards until his masked mouth settles near your ear. “You’re fuckin’ soakin’ my cock, Y/N. Wonder what Mark would think if he found me buried in this sweet little pussy, huh? Think he’d be jealous? Of how desperate you are for me?”

“Oh my god-“ You know it’s coming, your legs feel like static and your head is spinning. Your vision’s beginning to blur as the beginning of your orgasm starts to crash over you. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Luke-“

“Call me sir,” He’s fucking relentless, pounding into you like he’s got something to prove. It’s messy and slippery and wet, echoing the small room. “Call me sir and you can cum, Y/N.”

“Oh sir, oh my god sir-“

“Come on baby, that’s it, cum all over my cock,” Luke coaxes you, breathing warmly against the skin of your neck. Your nails scratch desperately on the desk as you finally let go, letting out a long string of pleading moans as you finish, clenching tightly around him. “Oh christ- Y/N- yeah, that’s my good girl.”

“Oh my god..” Luke doesn’t stop even after you’ve finished, snapping his hips more forcefully than before.

“Fuck, gonna cum,” Luke pants out. “Wanna cum all over your pretty face. Can I? Please baby, want it so bad.”

“Ye-yeah,” You half mumble, half moan.

Your body’s in Luke’s hands as he quickly slips out of you, discarding the condom and wrapping a hand around himself, helping you slink back until you’re on your knees. Confused, you’re unable to question why you’re facing the wrong way until Luke’s hand is on your jaw and tilting your head backwards.

And that’s a fucking view. It’s upside down, Luke’s masked face staring down at you as his hand works furiously over his leaking, hard cock, groaning and panting. “Fuck, open your mouth.”

You comply, happily letting your tongue fall flat over your lower lip, eyelashes fluttering until you hear a low, guttural groan from Luke’s throat, painting your cheeks and lips and eyelashes in pretty ropes of milky white.

“Ohhh fuck,” Luke’s strokes slow, milking himself until every last drop is coating some part of your face. “Fuck Y/N… you look so goddamn pretty covered in my cum.”

What doesn’t stay on your face ends up dribbling onto your t-shirt. You don’t really care at the moment, fucked dumb as you curiously swipe your tongue along anywhere you can reach to taste Luke’s release. You let out a soft, pleased and rasped, “Thank you, sir.”

Luke finds some tissues to clean you up, helping you slide your underwear and jeans back on. Once you’ve regained your breath, and began the short trip back to reality, you feel your cheeks grow stupidly hot. Luke slips his mask off.

“Where the hell is Mark?” he asks curiously.

“That’s what you’re worried about?” You ask in a soft voice. You really want to ask what this means, the two of you hooking up like this. Was he actually into you or using that as an excuse to get in your pants?

“He’s like thirty minutes late,” Luke shrugs, running a hand through his flattened curls. “Why? What’re you worried about?”

Your mouth clasps shut. “Nothing, it doesn’t matter,” You turn away, busying yourself with the paperwork you’d brought inside with you. “I have more recording sessions to do. And you probably have somewhere to be.”

“Y/N..” Luke frowns.

“What?” You snap unintentionally, turning to face Luke with narrowed eyes. “What, Luke?”

“This wasn’t like..” he trails off, looking a bit nervous. It almost makes you feel bad for snapping at him like that. “A one-time thing for me, Y/N. I.. I’m into you.”

“Really?” You ask softly. “You’re not just saying that because I let you.. fuck me?”

“No,” Luke slips out a short chuckle, stepping towards you. “No, I told you m’obsessed with you. This only makes it worse. You’re not getting rid of me.”

“We can talk about this after my recording sessions, alright Hemmings?” Your lips lift into a soft, almost shy smile. Luke does the same, his eyes hopeful.

“Maybe over dinner?” He asks.

“Pick me up at six.” You counter.

Luke dips to press a soft kiss against your cheek. “Text me your address. I’ll go figure out where Mark is and kick his ass for being late.”

You roll your eyes. “If he would’ve been on time that wouldn’t have ended well for both of us, Hemmings,” Luke’s halfway out the door, pausing and turning to you with a sly grin. “What? What is it?”

“Someone left the recording light on. No wonder Mark didn’t bother,” Luke chuckles, amused. “Hey.. I wonder what else we did by accident..” His eyes flicker towards the sound table’s knobs and buttons, your own widening in fear. Which switches were off before? You hadn’t paid attention to anything when your chest was pressed against it. Fuck, what if you-

You turn to reprimand Luke for putting that thought into your head but he’s gone. Before you text Mark, letting him know that you’re available to record, you double check the recording logs for anything out of the ordinary. With pink cheeks, you text Luke your address and a vague note.

you: [123 Main St]

you: also.. seems we might’ve had an accident.

you: file.mp3

#5sos fanfic #5sos imagine #5sos smut #5sos x reader #luke hemmings fanfic #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings smut #luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings x y/n #luke hemmings x you

240 notes · View notes

the-froschamethyst4 · 9 months ago

Text

My Daddy is My Hero

𖤐Pairing: Husband! Price x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: TOOTH ROTTING fluff, slight angst, language, married couple, children, codenames,

𖤐Summary: Your daughter Iris had a project for her school and it was ‘Who is your Hero’ and picks someone close to her

————

"Mama."

Y/n heard the tiny voice of her 7 year-old daughter Iris. She smiles and turns to look at her daughter.

"Yes, baby?" Y/n asks.

"We're doing a project for school, called 'My Hero' and I decided to do daddy, can you help me?" Iris asks.

"Okay, what do you need me to do?" Y/n says, wiping her hands and placing her hands on her hips walking to her daughter.

"What did daddy do?"

"For the military?" Iris nods in response. "Well, why don't I help you with your paper first, okay?"

"Okay, mama."

"Alright let me see what you got."

This was a week ago, Y/n helped Iris with her paper for hours and kept the project a secret from John.

"My Hero is my daddy, John Bravo Six Price. My daddy was part of the Military as a Captain, he is also the member of the British SAS. Sometimes my daddy is away for months, and I miss every time he leaves, but he tells me he'll come back safe and he always brings me a souvenir from his adventures." She digs in her backpack and pulls out a few things to show off.

"This is a picture of my daddy and some of his work friends, this one is Ghost and this one is Gaz." She puts them back and then grabs a few things that Price has brought back for her.

"This is a mini pyramid, when he went to Egypt. This is a tin art piece from Mexico, they traditionally have art of landscapes of them and pretty flowers. And this is stein from Germany, they usually put their drinks in it." She puts everything back in her bag.

"My daddy is currently in Russia right now and is coming back today, I am excited to see my daddy, and he is my hero."

"Wow! Thank you Iris for sharing, a round of applauds for Iris," her teacher says.

--------

At the end of the day Iris had walked outside to see her mom standing in the car rider line.

"MAMA!"

"Hi, baby," Y/n bends down kissing her daughter's temple, Y/n noticed her paper in her hands. "What's this baby?" Y/n asked.

"My paper for my hero, I got a 100% and a gold star," Iris smiles.

"That's great baby," Y/n kissed her daughter's temple again, before they walked to Y/n's car.

"Mama, is daddy coming home today?"

"Yep," Y/n says, buckling her daughter in her car seat.

----------

Once Y/n pulled into the driveway and helped her daughter out of her car seat they go inside and Y/n placed Iris's paper on the fridge, so when John comes in, he'll see it.

--------

Iris and Y/n played some board games before Price came home. Price was stuck in traffic and just wanted to go home to his family, Y/n smiled at her daughter who was still trying to understand the rules of the game.

"Honey you move 4 spaces."

"But when I play with Anna, she says I'm suppose to move 8 times."

"Why?" Y/n asked with a confused look and a slight giggle.

"Because four plus four equals eight."

"Honey, you're not adding anything. What you roll is what you roll, you rolled a four so you move four places."

"Okay, mama," Iris says with no more argument.

"Daddy has finally arrived," John says as he comes through the front door, Iris pops her head up and Y/n looks over her shoulder at her husband.

"DADDY!" Iris yells, running towards him. He drops his stuff and picks her up.

"How is my baby girl, huh?" He asks Iris kissing her cheek.

"Good," Y/n gets up off the floor and walks over to him, her hands running over his shoulders and hugging his neck.

"And how is mommy doing?" He asked in a bit of a seductive tone before kissing Y/n's lips.

"Just fine." She says to him.

"Oh daddy, look," Iris wiggled from his hold and ran to the fridge, pulling the paper off the fridge.

"What's this?" He asks her, looking at the 100% with his usual big smile and then reading 'My Hero'. "Oh...I remember doing a project like this when I was younger, my hero was Aunt," he smiles and bends down to his daughter. "Who was yours, baby?" He asks.

"Read it daddy," she giggles and hands him the paper.

"My hero is my..." Price looks at it thinking maybe he was reading it wrong. "My daddy...Captain John Bravo Six Price." He reads the papers, tears wanting to fall from his eyes but he held them, choking on some of the words.

Iris hated seeing her father so upset...The last time she's seem him upset is when her grandpa passed away. Iris took her small hand wiping her daddy's tears that did soon fall on his cheeks.

The sight melted Y/n's heart. Price's big hand cupped hers and kissed her knuckles.

"Thank you, baby," he says, pulling her into the biggest and longest hug. "This deserves to be framed," he jokes and looks at his wife who has been crying since Price started reading the paper. He pulls her into a hug as well.

----------

9:00PM

Price couldn't help but constantly re-reading the paper, he was laying in bed, Y/n was doing her nightly routine and Iris was asleep peacefully in her bed.

"John?"

"Why did she pick me?" He asked.

"Because she loves you," Y/n says, crawling on the bed.

She cups his face and kissed his lips. "Did she tell you, she was going to pick me?"

"Yes...but...she loves you...she loves the little things you bring back for her, she took one of your bucket hats to school because she missed you so much. You are her hero, Price and you always will be, I hope you know that."

----------

Price couldn't sleep, he looks at the ceiling and then at his sleeping wife next to him, he caresses her face kissing her forehead and getting out of the bed. He puts on a t-shirt and headed down the hall

He goes to the kitchen, he notices the light on in the kitchen and then seeing a little someone with a glass in her hands.

"Iris...baby, what are you doing up?" He asked.

"I can't sleep, and I was thirsty," Iris says, looking up at him, but he bends down to her level. She walks to him, his arms wrapping around her as she was still holding her glass of water.

"Come on, baby," he rubs her side and kiss her temple as she followed him back to her bedroom. He opens her bedroom door and she walks in, placing her glass on the nightstand and getting back into her bed but Price rests on her right side of her.

"Daddy."

"Yes?"

"Can you stay home, tomorrow?" Iris asked, looking at her daddy. She rolls on her side and plays with his dog tags.

"I can see," he says, placing his arm over her side rubbing her side again and patting her small leg.

Iris's eyes felt heavy, and she ended up falling asleep, Price looked to his right and looked down at his tired, sleeping daughter, he smiles kissing the top of her head.

He ends up falling asleep in Iris's bed, Y/n woke up to an empty bed and walked to her daughter's bedroom seeing a sleeping Price and Iris.

Price holding Iris and her face buried into his side. She smiles at her husband and baby girl, she walks in kissing his forehead and kissing Iris's temple.

--------

The next morning Y/n and Iris were in the kitchen and Price was still asleep in his daughter twin size bed. Iris's princess blanket draped over him.

Y/n pushed a mug of hot chocolate to Iris and Y/n stood next to Iris to help her with homework. Price had came out of his daughter's bedroom yawning and looking at his daughter and wife.

He kisses Y/n's neck and kisses Iris's forehead, he fixes himself some tea and leans over the counter watching his two girls.

Iris was writing down what Y/n was telling her, Y/n's right hand moved Iris's dirty blonde hair from her face, looking like the girl version of her father but the feminine features of her mother.

Price sees the paper on 'My Hero' on the counter and placed it back on the fridge, he kisses his daughter's temple and wife's temple before walking into the master bedroom and grabbing his phone.

He was going to fulfil his daughter's wishes and he will stay home today.

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #fandom #fanfic #call of duty #mw2 #cod #price x y/n #price x you #price x reader #cod price #captain john price #john price #captain price #price

261 notes · View notes

syoddeye · 11 months ago

Text

the christmas party

ceo!price x reader / smut free / ~2.8k words

A very belated Christmas drabble thing. Definitely not inspired by real life events. 👀 Featuring a fem!Reader x Price, background Ghost x Soap, and Gaz, the incredi-boss. Might fuck around make this a series, we'll see! Maybe I'll clean it up and throw it on AO3, too.

CW: alcohol, substance abuse (mentioned) inappropriate comments from coworkers

You came to expect drama at the company Christmas party. It was as traditional as the optional White Elephant gift exchange, the hired group of carolers, and the ugly sweater competition.

Last year, a 'mystery' baggie of powder and a credit card belonging to the former Head of Sales was found in a bathroom stall. Two years ago, it was the unexpectedly raunchy dancing between an engineer and a project manager you swore hated each other. Three years ago, a division head went home with someone who was definitely not her spouse.

You'd seen a lot in your tenure. The good, the bad, the ugly, the hilariously mortifying.

Coming up on your fifth year with The 141 Group, you were a rarity. Most folks job-hopped. More power to them, no shame in gaining good experience after a year or two to leave for greener pastures. The fact you stuck around labeled you a 'veteran', a cheeky if not sensational label, though there were times you certainly felt like you'd seen war. Acquisitions. Rebrands. Reorgs. Yeesh.

But life at 141 suits you. You are an executive assistant, a good one. It helps that your direct supervisor and the VP of Finance, Kyle Garrick, a fellow 'vet', was an incredible boss. He lets you work from when you need to, doesn't micromanage, and treats you like a person, unlike other execs. He had faith in your ability to manage his calendar, prep materials, book travel - in short, you organized his work life. In return, whenever some new hire got too fresh with you, all it took was one teensy mention in a morning meeting, and by lunch, the offending party had only apologies for you. Most importantly, though, the job nets enough money to make rent and let you pursue your hobbies.

With years of Christmas parties under your belt, you were looking forward to tonight's low-grade yet cataclysmic event. Pre-gaming and primping at a fellow assistant's house, Jordan, you clasp the silver holly leaf pendant around your neck where it lies just above your modest cleavage. The dress code was simply 'Christmas Color', another tradition. Formal attire was expected, if not an unsaid requirement, which meant slipping into a gorgeous dark green dress you spied weeks ago in a boutique window. You thank yourself for earning that last pay bump to afford it because you look fantastic, in your humble opinion.

Lacing her leather Oxfords, Jordan gives a low whistle when you turn away from the mirror. "Like a big, sexy pine tree."

You smirk. "Thanks. Remind me why we both couldn't wear red tonight?"

"Because of the two of us, red is my color. Do I not look like some kind of holiday vampire?" She asks, standing with a sweeping gesture down at her deep, red velvet suit.

"More bellboy, but-"

"Rude!"

The two of you lovingly bicker all the way out to the awaiting car. The 141 Group, ever mindful of its image, always reimbursed rideshares for its company parties. Given the amount of liquor that flowed at these events, it wasn't only generous but smart. Like the higher-ups needed a scandal. The car ferries you across town to the ritzy event space at a local art museum. Leaving your coats at the complimentary bag check, you enter the well-underway party.

The events team needs a raise, like yesterday. The sprawling space was completely done up. Several open bars, a champagne wall, a photo op with a to-scale Santa's Sleigh, and dining tables with place settings that probably rival a monarch. Silvery white birch trees enveloped in lights line the walls, with clusters of small fir trees fully decorated dotting the space. The dancefloor was already busy with a DJ fully dressed as Santa.

Four going on five years, and it was still quite the sight.

You gently elbow Jordan. "So. Cheesy themed cocktails first or canapes?"

"Obviously drinks. I just saw one with an ornament in it!"

Three hours in, it was a dead heat for Most Dramatic Event. Two separate calamities slowly built throughout the night.

At the nexus of the first, Chad from marketing was almost blacked out. After winning the ugly sweater with a true abomination of a sweater (working lights, a mini speaker, and an ungodly amount of sequins), he celebrated. A little hard. He bopped from open bar to open bar as the bartenders cut him off one by one. He was trying to convince a coworker to grab him another Mistletoe Martini, and it was progressively getting louder.

The second was from the rumor mill more than anything. Apparently, a developer named Scott brought the wrong gift for the exchange. As the story went, his wife used the same paper for an identically sized gift, one of a titillating nature, and now he was visibly paranoid that he nabbed the wrong one on the way out the door. The man stalked the pile of gifts as folks drew numbers.

Jordan bet on the first, and you bet on the second. From the corner, you watch, giggling behind a cup of Prancer's Punch.

The sound of your name drew your attention. Kyle, in a charcoal gray suit with a sleek snowflake tie bar and green tie, approaches with a Tiny Tim Collins in hand. Though you waved hello earlier in the night, he spent most of the evening in the company of who you deemed his 'buddies' - Johnny MacTavish, VP of Technology and Jordan's boss, and Simon Riley, the Chief Security Officer. You learned in your first month to leave the trio to it.

"Having fun, are we?" Kyle grins and turns to observe the twin events.

"I love this party. Every year, delivers just like Santa," Jordan gleefully said.

"Someone should stop them," You add, knowing nobody would. At least not Kyle.

And as if on cue, the man chuckles. "Not my circus, not my clowns."

The three of you chat, swapping bits of office gossip collected through the night. Not the most appropriate, but not the worst social crime, surely. You're the right amount of tipsy: warm and relaxed but solid.

The wager came up naturally.

"What do you want if you win, my pine tree?"

"Hmm. It's gotta be something outrageous but not a fireable offense. Hmm. Maybe I'll have you sing on a video call, pretend you thought you were on mute or something."

"...That's boring."

"Do I want to know?" Kyle asks, sipping his drink.

"We have a bet on who's gonna be this year's drama - Chad or Scott." You explain.

"Maybe I ought to get back…" Your boss said with a laugh. "Better not witness to whatever you two plan."

"Might be for the best. Night, Kyle," You accept the brief hug from the man, then poke a finger against his chest. "Listen, if I get one DM about work during the holiday, I'm switching your coffee to decaf."

Kyle claps a hand over his heart as if he's been shot. "Monstrous. Fine, have it your way, no work during Christmas…Now, behave yourself, both of you."

Watching him retreat back to MacTavish and Riley (who look quite cozy - perhaps another piece of gossip?), Jordan nudges you. "If I was into guys, that's who I'd be into."

"You and like fifty other people here," As Kyle's assistant, you're more than his Girl Friday; you're also a professional gatekeeper. You could wallpaper your apartment with the amount of cringy notes you've stopped from reaching his desk.

"Not your type, then?"

You whip your head back to Jordan, utterly horrified. "No way. Not that Kyle isn't an absolute dreamboat; he's just not my dreamboat. Plus, at this point, it would be so, so weird."

Jordan laughs. "Y'know, even though we've been work besties for a year, I don't think we've ever discussed this. What is your type? As dudes are not my specialty, I have no clue."

Your type, huh? As if you don't know. Your type's been the same for as long as you can remember. Big and brawny, the kind of guy who could haul you around. Dark hair. Well-groomed, well-dressed, well-endow–You could still make it onto the naughty list.

Using better and cleaner terms, you relay this information to Jordan.

"Huh. A man's man. Whodathunk–oh! Oh shit, look who it is!" The other woman pats your arm and gestures with a nod.

Joining Kyle and his buddies, is none other than John Price - CEO of The 141 Group. Fashionably late (very fashionably late), yet another tradition. Adorned in a Santa red suit jacket and a matching red tie, he somehow makes the boring dress code dashing. Flanking him is a pair of bodyguards. He's just in time for the wager to come to a head.

God, he looks good.

As Kyle's assistant, you see John fairly regularly. Not that he sees you. No one above a certain pay grade sees assistants. You kind of just blend right on in. Not even Mr. Riley, whom you've been introduced to a dozen times by Kyle himself, recalls your name. When you tag along to meetings to take notes for the boss man, you assume you're on the same level as a lamp or plant. That doesn't mean you haven't ogled John Price before. Kind of hard to not to, what with his commanding presence. You're kind of ogling him right now.

"Wow, you really do have a type," Jordan hums with a shit-eating grin.

"Shut up," You hiss into your drink and look away, just in time to see Chad from marketing lift a gift box-shaped ice sculpture and smash it onto the ground next to one of the open bars with a frustrated yell. The poor bartender and caterers jump back, and the music scratches to a halt. A thick silence fell over the party, impressive for a crowd of over a hundred, and your eyes flick to Mr. Price.

He glares daggers in Chad's direction, then nods at the taller of his bodyguards. Without hesitation, the man crosses the event space toward a petrified, drunk-crying Chad. As the guard hauls him away, your coworker, or former coworker, you assume, bursts into ugly tears and then disappears from sight. But your eyes are still on John, whose gaze turns to the DJ. The music starts again, as does the chatter.

"Fuck yes," Jordan giddily whispers.

"Well, shit."

"You know what this means, don't you?"

"...Unfortunately, yes. Yes, I do," You sigh and down the rest of your drink. "Before you swing the axe, let me grab another punch."

"Hurry back, I've got my thinking cap on," Jordan impishly smirks.

With a groan, you make your way to the nearest open bar. One far from Chad's little tantrum. Most folks are on the dance floor at this hour, leaving this particular bar quiet. Waiting in line behind other tipsy coworkers, a clearing throat behind you grabs your attention.

"D'you have a recommendation?" A low, gravelly voice from all your best dreams asks.

You turn, and the sweet Hallmark-worthy image that blossomed in your mind in the last two seconds promptly morphs into a nightmare. Not a running-for-your-life nightmare, but a you're-the-only-naked-person-in-class nightmare. Laughable, considering the topic of conversation not three minutes ago.

John Price stands tall behind you, arms crossed, testing the fabric of his red suit jacket. He smells like tobacco and something spicy, and his eyes are a shade of blue you hadn't noticed before. You never got this close. They narrow slightly, and you realize you haven't answered him.

"Prancer's Punch." The name sounds cornier aloud.

"Hmm. Brandy or rum?" He sounds unimpressed. Was he unimpressed?

You're quicker to answer this time. Except, you babble. "It's, uh, made with dark rum. It's delicious. I've had a few. The cranberry juice isn't too tart, compliments the sparkling wine and–It's good."

Santa, run me over with your reindeer.

Kyle would be humiliated to have heard all of that. You are humiliated for having said all of that.

To your surprise though, the corner of John's mouth hooks in a smirk, then he chuckles. "How many qualifies as 'a few'?"

You, apparently committed to acting moronically, answer honestly. "Five."

It gets you an actual laugh this time. His hand raises up to scritch at his cheek, flashing the band of a watch you're certain is worth more than your life, then juts his chin forward slightly. "You're up, miss."

"Oh, no, Mr. Price, I insist, please-" You start to sidestep to let him up in line, but his hand lowers immediately and stretches out to stop you. He doesn't touch you, but the hair of your arm stands up at the proximity.

John smiles again, and his head tips toward you. "I insist. Join me, Miss…?"

"Mr. Price?" A voice suddenly interrupts. The taller bodyguard that removed Chad steps up and steals away Mr. Price's attention. "The problem's been dealt with. Regarding…"

You don't hear the rest of the conversation because you hurriedly ask for a punch and bolt back to Jordan.

And Jordan saw everything. Your heart is racing, and you miss half of her teasing.

"You made him laugh. Twice. I don't think I've ever seen him smile, let alone laugh."

"Because I basically admitted to being drunk!"

"Calm down, you're not, you're solid," She reassures. "Besides. You saw that death glare at Chad. If he was upset, I reckon you'd be on the receiving end of one of those."

You groan and take a swig of punch. You hope you've had enough of the good stuff to burn away the memory of your embarrassing rambling. You look back to Jordan to say something and find your friend once again grinning devilishly at you.

"I just thought of what I want for my victory."

Any time, Santa. Put me out of my misery.

"What?"

"So…You know #AskPrice?"

You know where this is going, and your eyeballs nearly bulge out of their sockets. "Jordan. Please. No. Do not make me post something stupid there."

#AskPrice was the name of the open channel at work. Anyone across the company could post questions for Mr. Price to answer. More often than not, it was a venue for bootlickers and kiss-asses to rain praises and share bad proposals. Rarely was there a legitimate question or a good idea.

"Darling, of course not. I have something far funnier in mind," She started, and you swore you saw the flames of hell itself in her eyes. "You're going to direct message Mr. Price and ask what he wants for Christmas."

Jaw, meet floor. "Absolutely not!"

Jordan laughs and hooks an arm around your neck, pulling you in. "Come on. It's harmless. Believe me, I considered making you send a selfie or asking if you're on the naughty or nice list."

"He could fire me!"

"For what? It's just a question! He always says we're welcome to DM him."

To be fair, Mr. Price did say that at the end of every company-wide call or in email announcements. He always harps on 'transparency' and 'open channels of communication', hence #AskPrice. To your knowledge, however, no one ever takes him up on that, at least at your level.

"Jordan…Mercy. Please."

"My sweet pine tree, you lost fair and square," She releases you and pats your shoulder. "If it makes you feel better, I bet he gets a thousand messages a day. The notification will get lost in the noise."

It doesn't take much more prodding and encouragement from Jordan. Your phone ends up in your hand, and you tap into the chat app. Your hand shakes a little when you pull up John's username and open the message dialogue.

johnprice - invisible Hi, Mr. Price. I was wondering what you want for Christmas?

Short and to the point. Jordan calls it 'boring', but you're already putting your neck on the line for a stupid wager. You're not risking anymore by dressing it up. Bet fulfilled, you press send, quickly turn notifications off, and shove your phone back into your little purse. Jordan rewards you with a squeeze to the shoulder.

"That was terrifying." You whine.

"That was a rush. Come on. Let's dance."

The next morning, when you're all but molded to your couch and housing takeaway, there's a little ping from your phone. It's the chime of the chat app.

"Kyle, for the love of everything, it's Sunday–"

You nearly drop your phone.

johnprice - invisible Hi, Mr. Price. I was wondering what you want for Christmas? > World peace. > I'd settle for a drink, though.

#call of duty #john price #captain john price #captain price #price x you #price x reader #john price x you #john price x reader #john price x female reader #price x female reader #cod fanfic #cod fic #ceo!john price

250 notes · View notes