#too lazy to go outside? smoke inside

[fazcinatingblog]

What is a Bronx cheer compared to a normal cheer compared to a girl screaming TRENT TRENT TRENT AFTER THE SIREN WE WON WE WON

[taurasiluvr]

how you can help palestine

★ been thinking about high sex with paige bueckers...

 ⠀ ── ⠀warnings ;; nsfw under the cut, mdni. fingering and substance usage (blunt/weed)

the blunt was in between paige's pink lips, her eyes fluttering shut as she inhaled. you watched her carefully, taking note of everything – the way her blonde hair was pulled into the loose bun she knew made you go insane, the way the smoke curled around her face, highlighting the soft curves of her cheeks and the delicate line of her jaw.

she exhaled slowly, the cloud drifting lazily towards the ceiling. paige opened her eyes and caught you staring as a smirk began tugging corners of her lips.

"you always watch me like that," she said, her voice a low murmur, sending shivers down your spine.

"can't help it," you replied, leaning back against the couch. "you look so damn beautiful."

paige laughed, a sound that was both light and intoxicating. she took another drag from the blunt and leaned forward, her gaze locked onto yours. the air between you felt charged, the room suddenly too small for the both of you.

"c'mere," she whispered, beckoning you with the tilt of her head. you moved closer, feeling the magnetic pull that paige always seemed to have on you.

she then handed you the blunt, her fingers brushing against yours. "your turn," she said, her eyes foggy as her lips turned upward into a lazy smirk.

you took the blunt and brought it to your lips, inhaling deeply. the smoke filled your lungs, and for a moment, everything else faded away. when you exhaled, paige was still watching you, her expression unreadable.

"y'know," she said, her voice soft, "i think about you, like all the time."

your heart skipped a beat. "yeah?"

"yeah," she hummed, her fingers trailing lightly along your arm. "you're always on my mind."

you set the blunt aside and cupped her face in your hands, your thumbs brushing against her cheeks. "'m crazy about you, p."

she leaned into your touch, her eyes fluttering shut again. "then show me, baby," she whispered.

you didn't need any more encouragement. your lips met hers in a slow, lingering kiss, the taste of weed and desire mingling between you. paige sighed into your mouth, her hands tangling in your hair as she pulled you closer.

she pulled you into her lap, your legs wrapping around her as if trying to meld your bodies together. the kiss deepened, growing more needy. paige's fingers trailed down your back, sending shivers through your entire body. you could feel the rapid beating of her heart against your chest, matching the rhythm of your own.

her lips moved to your neck, planting soft, wet kisses along your jawline and down to your collarbone. you let out a soft moan, your hands gripping her waist, pulling her even closer. paige's breath was hot against your skin, each exhale sending waves of warmth through you.

"you're driving me wild," you murmured, your voice breathless and filled with need.

paige looked up at you, her eyes red and dilated. "good," she replied, her voice a seductive whisper. "cause i want you just as much."

you captured her lips again, your kiss filled with all the passion and desire that had been building between you. your hands roamed over her body, exploring every curve, committing each sensation to memory. paige's touch mirrored your own, her fingers tracing patterns on your skin, igniting warmth wherever they went.

the world outside ceased to exist; it was just you and paige, lost in each other, in the intoxicating blend of smoke and lust. your movements became more frantic, your bodies pressing together, seeking relief from the burning need that consumed you both.

"god, i need you," paige rasped, her voice breaking the silence that had enveloped you.

you pulled back slightly, looking into her eyes. "'m here," you said, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging inside you. "i'm yours, paige. always."

her hands found your hips, looking up at you as she sniffled. paige grabbed your wrist, pulling the blunt into the mouth as she inhaled. after she took a hit, she grabbed your head and blew the smoke into your mouth before pulling you into a deep kiss. the combination of her lips and the lingering taste of weed made your head spin in the most delightful way.

you began grinding against her lap, desperate for any kind of friction. paige hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements as she kissed you with a fervor that matched your own. she grabbed the blunt, placing it in your lips. you inhaled, feeling the smoke fill your lungs as you moaned. the sensation of her body pressed against yours, the heat between you both, was almost too much to bear.

"feel so good," you whispered against her lips, your voice trembling with need. the blunt was now long forgotten, placed on the coffee table.

paige's eyes fluttered open, her gaze intense and filled with longing. "want you so bad," she murmured, her hands sliding under your shirt, fingertips dancing across your skin before she found your bra.

she began gripping your boobs, your head falling back. every touch was heightened, you knew it was because you were both high off your minds but still. the touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you arched into her, craving more as your hands tangling in her hair, you pulled her into another kiss.

paige responded with a low growl, her hands exploring your body with a newfound urgency. she tugged at your shirt, pulling it over your head, and you followed suit, eager to feel her skin against yours. the moment your shirts hit the floor, paige's lips were on you again, trailing kisses down your neck and across your collarbone.

you let out a soft moan, your hands roaming over her back, feeling the muscles tense and relax under your touch. the need for her was almost overwhelming, every fiber of your being aching for more of her.

paige's mouth found its way to your boob, her tongue teasing your nipple, sending waves of pleasure through you. you gasped, your fingers digging into her shoulders as you ground harder against her lap, the friction driving you wild.

"please," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. "need you, p."

she looked up at you, her eyes dark with desire. "need you too, pretty," she replied, her voice husky. she shifted, guiding you to lay back on the couch as she positioned herself between your legs.

her hands trailed down your body, her touch both gentle and commanding. she leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and demanding, her body pressing against yours in the most delicious way.

you wrapped your legs around her, pulling her closer, desperate to feel every inch of her against you. the world around you faded into oblivion as paige's fingers found their way between your thighs, her touch sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. she dipped her finger in your waistband, before she pushed a finger into your sopping pussy.

you arched into her, your breath coming in ragged gasps as she moved her fingers with expert precision. "oh, fuck," you moaned, your body trembling with the intensity of your need.

paige's lips found your ear, her breath hot against your skin. "i've got you," she whispered, her voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. "just let go."

with those words, you felt the tension within you snap, your body convulsing with pleasure as you cried out her name. paige held you close, her touch never wavering, riding out the waves of your climax until you were spent and trembling in her arms.

she grabbed the blunt from the table, taking a deep inhale before passing it to you. the room was filled with a hazy glow, the remnants sex mingling with the lingering smoke. you took the blunt from her, your fingers brushing against hers, and brought it to your lips, the familiar warmth of the smoke grounding you in the present moment.

if you enjoyed, any interaction is greatly appreciated!

with love, rylin 𝜗𝜚

[enemiestolovershoe]

JJ & Reader going night surfing and falling asleep in a hammock together, only for John b to find them in the morning and tease tf out of them about it?

More than just friends

JJ Maybank x bsf!reader

Summary: After a night of surfing and stargazing, JJ and the reader share a quiet moment that doesn’t go unnoticed the next morning.

Words: 1.4k

Warnings: Not proofread, minor drug use (smoking a joint)

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The sun was dipping below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the Pogues’ little setup by the bonfire outside the Chateau. The night was calm, almost hypnotic, and the waves lapped softly in the distance as the fire crackled. You, JJ, John B, Pope, and Kiara sat around, laughing and recounting stories, the kind of simple, perfect night that only really happened with this crew.

Kiara stretched, yawning, as the night wore on. “Alright, I’m calling it. I’ve got to get some sleep if we’re hitting the water tomorrow.”

Pope yawned as well, rubbing his eyes. “Same. I’m wiped out.”

John B gave you and JJ a lazy wave as he and the others trudged inside. “Don’t stay up too late, you two,” he called, smirking.

JJ just chuckled, kicking back against the log he was leaning on. “As if you can tell us what to do, JB.”

Soon, it was just you and JJ, sitting by the fire, watching as the embers glowed red-orange against the night sky. There was something peaceful about it—just the two of you, the soft crash of waves, and the dim glow of the fire.

After a few minutes, you got an idea. You nudged JJ, your eyes bright with mischief. “Hey. Wanna make this night even better?”

JJ raised an eyebrow, already grinning. “What, you got something up your sleeve?”

“Night surfing,” you said, practically bouncing with excitement. “The waves have been perfect all evening. Let’s hit them before they die down.”

He laughed, eyes lighting up at the idea. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” you replied, challenging him. “Unless you’re too tired, of course.”

JJ gave you an exaggerated scoff. “Me, too tired? Never.” He jumped up, pulling you with him. “Come on, let’s grab the boards.”

With a shared, excited look, you ran to get your surfboards, adrenaline already beginning to pulse through you both. The ocean looked almost mysterious in the dim moonlight, dark yet welcoming, as if it was inviting you two to take on one more adventure.

Once you waded into the water, JJ looked over at you, his grin barely visible in the dim light. “Ready to get smoked?”

“Please,” you said with a smirk, paddling out past him. “Let’s see if you can even keep up.”

The waves were just right—big enough to give you a challenge, but soft enough to make it fun. You rode wave after wave, the two of you laughing and occasionally shouting as you tried to one-up each other, the sound echoing over the water.

After a particularly good ride, JJ turned to you, still out of breath, his hair wet and clinging to his face. “I have to hand it to you, you didn’t wipe out as much as I thought you would,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, please. I was waiting for you to keep up.”

He shot you a lopsided grin. “Guess you’ll have to wait forever then, ‘cause I’m untouchable out here.”

As the waves finally began to die down, you both paddled back to shore, breathing heavily and grinning from ear to ear. Back on the sand, you stretched out, laughing as you both tried to catch your breath.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

“That was…awesome,” JJ said, staring up at the stars.

“Right?” you replied, lying back on the cool sand beside him.

After a few moments of quiet, JJ sat up, brushing sand from his board shorts. “Come on, let’s head back.”

Back at the Chateau, you both paused on the porch, feeling the night wind down. You looked over at JJ, and he held up the joint he’d pulled from his pocket with a grin. “One last thing to top off the night?”

“Only if you’re sharing,” you teased.

“Always,” he said, and motioned to the hammock. “Best seat in the house.”

You climbed into the hammock beside him, finding your balance as it swung gently with both of your weights. You took the joint from him, inhaling deeply, and watched as JJ lit up, the flame flickering in his face.

“Sometimes I think this is what I’d do forever if I could,” JJ murmured, looking up at the stars through the trees.

You exhaled, passing the joint back to him. “What, get high in a hammock every night?”

“No,” he laughed, nudging your shoulder with his. “I mean… just this. Just chilling out here with you guys, like this is all that matters.”

You looked over at him, seeing a side of JJ you didn’t always get to see. “You know… you’re kind of a sap,” you teased, though your voice was soft.

“Don’t let it get around,” he muttered, looking at you, his eyes softened. “Can’t have everyone knowing I actually have feelings.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” you said, smiling, a warmth in your chest that you couldn’t quite place.

He took another hit, handing the joint back to you. “You’re not too bad yourself, you know that?”

You gave him a look. “Wow, what a compliment.”

“Hey,” he said, laughing, his hand resting just beside yours, close enough that you could feel his warmth. “I don’t just give those out to anyone.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help smiling. It felt so easy, lying there with him, like it was the most natural thing in the world. The two of you drifted into quiet conversation, talking about anything and everything until the night started to blur around the edges. Before you knew it, the world was growing hazy, your eyes beginning to close as you felt the gentle sway of the hammock.

At some point, you felt JJ’s arm around you, his breathing deep and steady as he fell asleep beside you. You leaned into him, the warmth of his presence making you feel safe and content as you drifted off.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The next morning, sunlight filtered through the trees, slowly waking up the Pogues inside the Chateau. John B was the first to stir, stretching and blinking as he got up, wandering outside to see what mischief you and JJ had gotten into.

What he found made him pause—and then grin.

You and JJ were still tangled up in the hammock, your head resting on his shoulder, his arm securely around you, both fast asleep and oblivious to the world. John B stifled a laugh, fishing his phone out of his pocket to snap a few quick pictures.

“Too good to pass up,” he muttered, trying not to laugh too loudly. With one last amused glance at you both, he slipped back inside, shaking his head with a smirk.

An hour later, you stirred awake, blinking against the bright sunlight. It took a moment for you to realize where you were—and that JJ was still beside you, his arm comfortably around your shoulders, your hand resting on his chest. Your heart skipped a beat, but before you could move, JJ’s eyes blinked open, a sleepy smile spreading across his face.

“Morning, surfer girl,” he murmured, his voice rough from sleep.

“Morning,” you whispered back, feeling your cheeks warm, though you made no move to pull away.

Eventually, the two of you untangled yourselves, reluctantly climbing out of the hammock and making your way back inside. As you entered, John B was leaning against the counter, watching you both with an obnoxiously smug grin.

“Well, well, look who’s up,” he greeted, his tone thick with amusement. “Good morning, lovebirds.”

You rolled your eyes, though your cheeks flushed. “Shut up, John B.”

JJ just grinned, trying to brush it off. “Real funny, man. Keep it up.”

“Oh, I will,” John B said, laughing. He folded his arms, giving you both a knowing look. “So… how’d you two sleep?”

JJ narrowed his eyes, clearly suspicious. “What’s with the interrogation?”

Without a word, John B pulled out his phone and held up the pictures he’d taken. “I don’t need to interrogate you when the evidence speaks for itself.”

Your jaw dropped. “John B, what the hell?”

John B raised his hands innocently, grinning. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just saying, the proof is in the photos.”

JJ rubbed the back of his neck, laughing it off. “Dude, come on. We were just…you know, we were tired. It was a long night.”

“Right,” John B said, his tone laced with sarcasm. He gave you both a serious look, his voice dropping slightly. “I don’t know if you’re really that blind, but you two are clearly more than just friends.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

A/n: I hope you like it. :)

[romanarose]

Imagine Somno/intox with Logan...

Logan Howlett x reader

Join my taglist : Masterlist

Buy Me A Coffee : Kofi : Go Fund Me

CW consensual somno (sex while you're passed out, in and out of consciousness), and consensual intox (reader consents to Logan using her while she's high and/or drunk). This is a pre-established, loving relationship with talked about boundaries and rules of engagement. Creampie <3 drinking and smoking.

Smut below the cut

*******

Imagine coming home from a holiday party and you're just soooo sleepy. You've had more than a few drinks, and you and Remy snuck outside for a quick hit or two off a weed pen. Needless to say, you were sloshed.

Logan was the picture of a perfect boyfriend. He's not exactly a party guy, but you are so of course he went with you and did the obligatory rounds socially. He even took extra care to try and relax and have fun so that you didn't feel like you had to go home early just because this isn't his scene. He's suffer 100 of Scott and Jeans parties to see you this happy.

By the time you get home, you're half asleep. You're stumbling trying to get out of the truck so Logan takes carries you up the house, giggling even as your head rests on his shoulder. Jesus, how much weed did you smoke?

After undressing you and even wiping your face down with make-up wipes, Logan cuddles up close to you in bed, chest to chest in the warmth sheets.

Still, you're not done.

Sloppy and lazy you kiss, kiss, kiss him, unable to even open your eyes but whining when he tries to pull away.

"Want you..." You mutter, looking like you're about asleep already.

Logan chuckles. "You can't even keep your eyes open."

"yeah I can, see?" But they stay shut, making Logan laugh again as he smiles fondly down at you.

"Oh yeah, there we good. Good job, baby." He had a patronizing, teasing smile.

"fuck meeeeee" You whine, squirming your naked legs together as if that's all your limp body is capable of.

Logan runs a hand over your bare skin, his thumb rubbing over a pert nipple, making them harden as shivers run over your body. "You want me to take care'ya, sweet girl?"

"Mhmm..." But your head was lulling to the side. Logan feels up your body, nails gently scrapping over tender skin up and down your torso, massaging your to sleep.

"Don't you worry about a thing. I'm gonna make you feel so good. You deserve it, don't you? Poor, sleepy baby... just drift off to sleep... I'm gonna take care of everything."

Just as he thinks you're asleep, Logan rubs at the little bundle of nerves between your legs and hears you gasp.

"Shhhh, shhhhh.... just go to sleep... that's it..."

He's careful not to disturb you as he moves between your legs, lining up his cock at your dripping cunt, rubbing the tip up to your clit and back down again. His cock lays aching as Logan thrusts his hips, but not penetrating you just yet. Instead, the length of him slides all over your slit, getting himself nice and wet, just like you were. He didn't wanna hurt you, or god forbid wake you.

"Don't gotta worry about a thing when I'm here. Just gotta lay there and take it." Logan whispers, voice husky with lust as he finally slides himself inside your sopping wet hole. He groans as he bottoms out, forever entranced in how well you take him, even as he splits you open like a fence post.

"Good girl..." Logan mumbles, sliding in and out of you as he plays with your clit, taking care to hit the spot that made your unconcious, slightly snoring body clench around him. "Always so fucking good... You just need this, huh? Needed me to take care of you? You do everything for everyone, but you? You're my responsibility, and I'm gonna make you feel so fuck'n good." He punctures his words with a slap of his thighs to your ass just a little too strong, and for a second he worries he woke his sweet girl when your eyesbrows pinch together and you whimper.

"Shhh, I'm sorry baby..."

"L-Lo?" You murmur, but only barely conscious. He begins to fuck you again, careful and more controlled.

"It's me, baby..." Logan caresses your cheek. "Don't worry, m'gonna take care of yuh... just go back to sleep..."

You moan as conciousness slips away once again.

"Good girl... such a fuck'n... ugghhh good girl..." He's becoming strained, the sight of you laid out and bare for him, the trust you put in his hands, it was becoming too much. He loved you so gooddamn much... but he needed to take care of you, this wasn't for him. Logan plays with your sensitive folds, working your up until he saw your stomach clenching and then worked on your clit, all the while fucking you full.

"That's it princess, come on my cock, come on- oh! there it ! Ohhhh g-good girl- fuck- fuuckkk" As you came around him, clenching down hard you stripped away the last of his control. Logan lifted your hips center to him, fucking your contracting channel as he spilled his warm seed into you.

"Perfect, my perfect girl, fuck, fuuuucckk, ughh, uh, uh, uhhhh!" Every last drop was milked from him, ball emptying inside you and for a moment, everything was pure bliss. This was all he needed to be happy. You were all he needed.

As Logan came down from his high, that blissful feeling never subsided. He looked at your pretty face, so cute and trusting, trusting him... This was what heaven was.

Slaying slotted deep inside you and plugging you up with his cum, Logan wrapped you up in his arms and rolled over. He laid on his back, keeping you sluffed with him as he pulled up the covers.

As you snored against his pecs, and Logan slowly drifted to sleep, Logan hoped he'd wake up to your cute body using him to get off.

*********

thanks for reading!!!

@dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @del-ightfulling @hornystan

[demiesworld]

thinking about being high off of marijuana with suguru…

you don't know how you ended up in this position in suguru's bedroom. you're laid out on your back with the man of your dreams in between your thighs. his deep brown eyes looking into your eyes as he slowly rocks his hips back and forth. his thick cock is trapped in your tight walls, feeding your juicy pussy short and deep strokes. if you could remember where this all started from it came from when suguru offered you to smoke weed with him. you always would smoke with suguru, your boyfriend, when he offered. so whatever that was in the strain that you two smoked not just one joint but two had brought you here. suguru geto, languidly thrusting his dick into you, with his silky black hair curtaining your faces from the outside world. just you staring up into suguru's pretty and handsome face like he was the sun. in your eyes he was. you embrace your man like a koala, legs and arms holding him tight as you pull him down for a lazy heated kiss. your body shudders and you moan shakily when suguru's pierced tongue snakes inside of your mouth. he places his left hand on your breast, squeezing the flesh gently as he keeps grinding his hips into yours. you clutch at the hairs on his nape with one hand and the other digs fingernails into his warm sandy shoulder blade. you two parted your lips for a moment, gasping into each other's mouths. you could feel yourself ascending to a higher plane from the effects of the weed and what you were feeling for suguru. you listen to your heart beat faster and the blood screaming through your ears.

you arch your back and whisper to him, "i love you suguru," "i love you too baby," he returns. you let out a squeak when he started snapping his hips into you. your voice bounces as you cry out,  "i, i love you so much suguru!" then cradle his head to hide his face into your neck. suguru kisses at your sweaty skin wetly, and groans, "fuck, i love you baby," he increases his speed, his dick pistons into your dripping pussy and his heavy balls slap against your ass. you toss your head back and drag your fingernails down his shoulder. you mewl, "oh! oh, i love you so fuckING much!" "i love you, baby! hm!" you're both panting and moaning as the intensity of suguru's thrusts increases. your body is being pounded into the bed with suguru's deep and heavy strokes. "oh! …oh! UH! F-FUCK! GONNA! CUM!" you emphasize your words right before your cunt spasms around his thick and uncut cock. your walls clench around suguru so tight he's left with nothing to do but gently rock his hips again. he's helping you ride out your orgasm while trying to find his own. your slick leaves his cock glistening with it. he is patient when he waits for your cunt to stop clenching around him so he could return back to loving you right. "hmm, baby, fuuuck," he sighs onto your neck and goes to sucking on your earlobe. your body shivers from him sucking on your ear. his tongue licks around the shell of your ear, then his teeth gnaw at it. "hm~ suguru!" you squeal when he nips at your ear then the raven-haired man chuckles. before he pulls away, he affectionately kisses your ear. suguru sensually croons, "im sorry baby," you pouted up at him, "that really hurt daddy." you had to bite back the smile on your lips when you whined. suguru plays on with your act, his hands going to your hips as he kneels up on the bed. "oh baby, what can daddy do to make it better huh?" he asks while he's slowly moving his hips into you again.

you bite down on your bottom lip before you say, "fuck me like a slut, daddy." suguru's cock twitches in your warm walls from your response. he's beginning to speed up his tempo now. his slow and deep strokes transitioning to quick and hard hammering. his dick is fucking right into your sweet spot, never missing a beat. you're being bounced on his cock, and your back arches from the bed as you let out a high pitched moan. "fuck you like a slut? no, baby i think you- fuuck- meant fuck you like you're my slut." "mhm! mhm! yes daddy! oh fuck, yessss!" "that's right, you're daddy's slut." suguru wraps his arms around your body and hoists you up into his lap. you have your legs on either side of suguru's narrow waist and your hips connect with his own as you meet his thrusts. your faces are close together. with this position everything is so intimate, everything is so vulnerable. you look into suguru's deep brown eyes and you admire him for his ethereal beauty. everything about this man is so unreal to you. he's like a gift from heaven's above. you let out a breathless sigh as you're being pummeled into. "d-daddy i love you…" you choke on another moan when suguru rocks his hips slowly into yours. the lazy rhythm feels good against your clit. he rolls his hips into circles as he says, "i love you too baby." the slick noises your pussy makes when suguru pumps his hips upward is so obscene. you feel suguru's breathing get heavier and quicker as he was chasing after his orgasm. "oh, ssshit, fuck, im gonna cum baby. fuck, im gonna… c-CUM!" he snaps his hips up and shoots his heavy hot load into your womb. you let out a squeak when you feel the rush of warmth filling you up. suguru fucks his cum deep into your sensitive pussy, his mouth agape at the sight of sticky strings on his pubic hair.

your cunt is not any better. it's swollen from the persistent strokes and your slick is glistening his veiny cock. "oh fuck," he mutters breathlessly and looks back up to your glassy eyes, the whites of them still tinged with red from the weed. suguru lets out a hiss before he clashes his lips with yours and lay you down on your back on the bed. you lay with your sore limbs splayed out on the mattress. suguru slides his softening cock out, a lewd wet "pap" follows. he grabs the base of his heavy cock and taps his fat head on your puffy clit. you let out a sharp hiss then moan. he smears his cum on the tender nerve of your nub. after he glides his cock up and down in between your sticky folds. "listen to that baby," you hum questionably until suguru kindly shushes you and reminds you to listen. you do and your ears catch on to the raunchy slushing noise he was creating. you feel your clit throb at the sound and you internally scream to yourself, "we're never going to stop!" suguru has already made your worry a reality the second he inserted his tip into your gaping pussy and was fucking just the tip of it in and out. the sound of it reminded you of wet squishing. after he had thrusted it into you a few more times, suguru fully slid his thick cock back into you. you choke on a gasp and your pussy squeezes on his length. he sweetly coos, "hmm… im sorry baby…" his hand cups your chin lazily grinning at seeing your eyes roll back, his sultry voice husks, "but daddy needs you for a little while longer…"

☆ — note: i feel like i should make this a series since i only write this shit when i am high. i got the inspiration from literally this guy im talking to. we are both 420 friendly and i was smoking some, thought of him doing this to me, and i was like oh yeah need to write that down. plus this was written in one-go so there will be mistakes lmao

[afsalovescats]

Omg could I request a yandere gojo who’s also our next door neighbor? Maybe they met by the reader being conveniently helpful, not thinking much of it? But also assuming reader has a petty sense of humor, and doesn’t get half of his social cues suggesting his interest for other than him gluing to her whenever possible.

omg a reader whos dense? guys this is litteraly me, i love this concept smmm

Warning : yandere type shit, also reader is a smoker (vaugely and barely mentiond)

Omg yall i wanna make another part, lmk if yall want one too, lowkey wanna make a series building up to his obsession in ur pov....i might.

Btw if u havent noticed i am actually so big brain, i am storming ideas fast. Keep sending in reqs!!

You never thought that living next to someone like Satoru Gojo would be anything out of the ordinary. He was charming, a bit of a flirt, and definitely the life of anybody in the gloomy neighborhood. But you quickly learned that there was more to him than met the eye.

It all started one lazy afternoon when you noticed him struggling to carry in a mountain of grocery bags. He was balancing them awkwardly, he looked strong with muscles and everything, he just wasn't balacing them right at all. It was so obvious too. And it looked like he might drop everything at any moment if you didnt rush over. You couldn’t help but step outside from the lobby of your dingy apartment complex, your curiosity perked and wanting to converse in small talk due to boredom. “Need a hand, or are you trying out for a circus act?” you joked, a playful smirk on your face.

He looked up, his signature grin lighting up his features. “Circus? Nah, but I could use your help to make these bags disappear,” he replied, flashing that mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “What’s the point of having a neighbor if they won’t help you out?” he retorted playfully as his gaze on you never wavers.

You let out a sarcastic laugh, rolling your eyes, and before you knew it, you were taking a few bags from him, both of you heading to his front door, but not before going to the main lobby to go to the elevator. He was your neighbor too so obviously why wouldn't you help? Being a good neighbor was the least you could provide as service!

As you chatted, his conversation flowed easily, he seemed to be interested in anything you were saying, and occasionaly asked questions that may have come across as personal. But honestly you didnt seem to notice the questions. Neither did you notice the glances directed your way and his gaze lingering on you for far too long, the way his smile always slightly rised whenever you accidently brushed against him. Due to the elevator space and the amount of grocerries in hand.

Days turned into weeks, and you found yourself running into Gojo more often. He was always “conveniently” around when you were outside for a smoke since smoking wasn't permitted inside the complex or apartments. While you thought he was just friendly, there was a deeper undercurrent to his attention that you were blissfully unaware of. Very blissfully unaware of, thankfully.

One evening, you decided to play a small prank on him, no harm. He'd just been annoying lately. You slipped a sticky note on a small carton of milk planted right near his door, claiming that he’d won an award for “Most Annoying Neighbor.” The corners of your mouth slightly raised, a harmless joke, as you walked away to go to work, curious as to what his reaction will be later.

The next few hours later when you were lounging on your couch, watching a show mindlessly in the dark, you heard a few knocks on the door, confused, you hesitantly try to peek out the window, near the door but instead you see a figure wearing all black. You then sigh as you check the peephole and see him. Standing out there at night as he leans on one leg with a hand on his hip.

He's now appeared at your door, the note in hand and an amused yet intense look in his eyes. “You think this is funny?” he said, stepping just a bit too close. “Maybe I should write you a letter too. How about ‘Most Unappreciative Neighbor’?” he replies back as he continues staring at down at you, litteraly since he was tall.

Your laughter faltered slightly, but you brushed it off, thinking he was just joking. “Come on, it’s a joke. Besides, you’re too much of a show-off to be offended. You should appreciate you even got an award." unaware to you, the way your wordered it, as the corners of your mouth raised, actually set something off in him.

His smile faltered for just a moment, a flicker of something darker crossing his features. “Oh, I’m not offended. Just… disappointed.” He leaned closer, slightly crouching his shoulders to lean down as his shoulders slump as one hand is on the side of the outline of the door, half in half out so it prevents you from shutting it. His breath warm against your ear in the cold chilly night.

“You should know better than to mess with someone who cares about you.” He replies blanky, as his whole facade drops and he simply stares at you. No expression, no charming smile, no teasing, nothing, his pretty blue orbs just blank.

You blinked, caught off guard by his whole demeanor. “Care about me?” you reply raising an eyebrow then you burst out laughing as you slightly cover your mouth, not trying to be mean but this was actually amusing.

He tilted his head, and the glint in his eye made you shiver, but you brushed it aside with a smile, thinking you had misread his expression. “You’re more than that to me,” he said, the seriousness of his tone finally making you feel a bit uneasy. "So much more." He finishes but you simply continue smiling, trying to be friendly in this situation. Before you could respond, he added, “But don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.”

Now his smile came back as he stops leaning down slightly and instead stand up straight as his eyes atleast aren't blank anymore.

You laughed nervously, backing up a step. “Yeah, sure, just don’t get too attached.” You say as yet once again you are so unaware of Satoru's genuine feelings.

But Satoru didn’t respond with laughter. Instead, he stepped forward, closing the distance. “Oh, I’m already attached. You don’t get to walk away from this.”

"...Of course you are! I'm just so great!"

You dont know if you said anything wrong because now he hasnt replied and your standing there awkwardly as his arm is still against the edge of the door frame.

"Goodnight Satoru." you begin to break down the awkward silence between you two.

After a few blinks he smiles, but it dosent meet his eyes. Instead he ruffles your head then he says "You should really get those locks checked out, or get more. Its dangerous." he replies as his smile is still there but its more chilling.

You hum as you dismiss him with a wave and shut the door. Something tells you to wait it out, just in case, and you trust your intution. You wait for a little waiting til he leaves as you stand on the other side of the door. He didnt leave right away as he stares at the spot where you just were, where now his eyes meet the door.

Then just like that he walks away. Weirdo.

Another time you invited him over to your house since you date decided to ditch you for no reason! So weird! Satoru luckily found you after you ended the call and offered to cheer you up. So currently you both are watching a movie at your place in silence, he was hesitant to invite you, you didnt know why but you didn't bother asking to not be rude.

"I just wish...you know we were talking for a while and like...I thought things were going well!" you sigh yet exclaim at the same time. Still upset since you thought for once you could pull someone. You can't.

"He sounds like an asshole." Satoru says without a second thought.

You let out a groan mixed with a whine, Satoru glances at you as you then shrink to the couch as whine again annoyed.

"I wish he was like, obsessed or something! I want a guy to be like that! So that he'll never leave me or cheat! is that too much to ask for?" You ask yourself as you put popcorn in your mouth.

Apparently not, since what you wanted was right next to you, without your knowledge.

"Clingy? You into that?" he asks tilting his head as he eyes you- has this man even looked away once? You actually notice and wonder.

You hum in response as for the next few minutes you eat popcorn and the movie's audio plays into the background.

“Clingy?” he repeated again, a dangerous glint in his eye. “Oh, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that. I’ll be right here, always, for you.” He winks, but something tells you hes not joking.

The days passed, and while you continued your innocent banter and petty pranks and sarcastic yet teasing words, Satoru's intensity deepened. He started showing up unexpectedly, always ready to lend a hand or share a laugh. You thought it was endearing, never realizing that he was weaving himself deeper into your life—too deep for your own good. You didn't mind, you never knew why, it was slightly weird but you really couldn't care.

One evening, you found him standing outside your door, arms crossed, a look of mock irritation on his face. “You’re not just going to ignore my last prank, are you?”

You raised an eyebrow, teasing. “What prank? I thought you just liked leaving me little gifts?”

He stepped closer, invading your personal space. “I do like leaving you gifts… but only if you remember who they’re from.”

You felt a teeny shiver run down your spine, but your playful nature pushed you to respond. “Oh, you mean like a restraining order? Because I’m pretty sure I’m going to need one." You retort back.

His laughter was rich and dangerous, and he leaned closer, whispering, “You really have no idea how much I care, do you? You’re not going anywhere, and neither am I. So, how about we skip the jokes and just enjoy each other’s company?” He says with a lazy smirk gracing his soft lips.

You actually freze, suddenly aware of just how serious he was. But before you could respond, he flashed that charming smile, and all your doubts faded into the background. After all, he was just your neighbor, right? A very huge fucking flirt too.

As you watched him walk away, the hint of something dark lingered in the air. You chuckled to yourself, dismissing the warning signs. “What a weirdo,” you muttered, still blissfully unaware of how deeply tangled you were in his affections.

But little did you know, in Gojo’s eyes, you were already his—forever.

[stevesbipanic]

Steve had to learn everything by himself.

It started with him learning to walk. There were no parents helping him up or waiting across the room with open arms and big smiles. Steve was alone, the nanny outside chain-smoking. Steve's sippy cup was out of reach from where he sat, he cried and cried with no avail, and so he stood. With many trips and bumps and tears and sobs, Steve managed to wobble his way over and get his drink. A milestone learnt alone.

Steve taught himself to read. His teachers were no help, sounding out the words didn't work when the letters didn't stay still. His teachers thought he was lying, being lazy, doing it for attention. Steve had borrowed a book from the school library, it had a picture of a puppy on the front and he really wanted to know the puppy's story. So every night, hidden under the covers, flashlight in hand, Steve taught himself to read. He figured out holding his hand over the words stopped them moving, he could sound them out now. The puppy travelled the world and Steve travelled with him.

Steve taught himself to swim. He was right when he fell in the pool. His mum and dad were out for dinner, they always were. They'd told him to stay away from the pool, they didn't want him making it dirty. Steve's ball had been kicked in, just out of reach. Steve felt himself sinking, he started flailing and thankfully, quickly learnt to push himself upwards. Steve's mother berated him when she saw he'd gotten the couch wet.

Steve taught himself to cook. By the time he was ten his parents were rarely home and he was apparently too old for a sitter. His parents always kept the fridge stocked with ingredients but nothing easy to make. Steve climbed up onto the counter and grabbed his Nonna's old recipe book. Through trial and error and a burnt hand Steve cooked himself spaghetti. He ate alone at the dinner table, but this wasn't new.

Steve taught himself basketball. Tryouts were happening the summer before high school started and his father wanted him to go. He asked his dad to teach him but he was pushed away. Instead he sat in front of the TV watching reruns of old games until he had a general idea of the rules. He practiced on his driveway day and night until he could make almost every shot. Steve made it onto the team, his dad didn't care.

Steve taught himself to fight. He had to. He wasn't very good at teaching himself this skill.

Steve taught himself to drive. His parents gave him a car for his sixteenth but his dad was never around to teach him. He pulled a tin box from under his bed where he kept money from every birthday and Christmas his parents missed. He used his money to buy some lessons. His instructor fell asleep after the third turn. So Steve drove slowly until he was driving smoothly down Main St. Steve passed his driver's test, he needed to if he was ever going to leave Hawkins.

Steve had to learn everything himself. He told Eddie all these stories, wrapped in his arms. The weight of his lost childhood sinking away as his boyfriend ran his fingers through his hair, listening to every word. When he was finished Eddie pressed his lips to Steve's temple and whispered softly to him.

"You didn't have to teach yourself everything sweetheart. You didn't have to learn to care, or to love or to be kind. You may have forgotten them sometimes, but they were all born inside you."

Steve smiled, "Had to know those Eds, had to have those ready for you."

[darklcy]

𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

‣ eddie's session runs longer than you thought. bored, with nothing to do, you find his shirt.

‣ eddie munson x reader | stranger things masterlist | 823 words | fluff, established relationship, idiots in love ig

‣ i havent posted him in a while and i just got to rewatching s4, so naturally-

He’d been gone far too long already.

You tried not to complain, not having the desire to suck the life out of his soul for simply engaging in his passion. Dungeons and dragons served as an enigma in your brain, its complexity never failing to swirl your thoughts in knots each time you tried learning to play. If him being late was the only self punishment for not comprehending the rules of the game, then perhaps it was justifiable.

..It was just late. And you were beyond bored.

Boredom was a lazy explanation for the feeling you were experiencing at the moment, but for lack of better word, boredom will do. Body sprawled across his mattress, Gremlins displayed in the living room television down the hall, fingernails touched skin in a pattern, as if counting sheep represented itself through your fingers. The night sky stretched further along the hours as you waited for his campaign to finish, but with the way your eyelids drooped and head bobbed, you may not be around for his return.

Laying back on your spine, ceiling coming into view, you fought the upcoming dreams with all your might to avoid slumber, wanting to greet Eddie properly the moment he stepped inside. Chin lolling to the right, a signature club shirt curiously grabbed your eye, the red faced demon poking through the gaps of his drawer. 

Huh.

Somehow that pumped a vein full of awoken energy throughout your body. Sitting back up, you crawled over to the drawer and yanked the shirt from its clenches, freeing the fabric from its prison. The demon’s eyes met yours in a sneer, and sometimes you wonder if the corners of his mouth grew each time you stared at him. Discarding your own top, you replaced it with his, the remnants of smoke and faint cologne wafting in your nostrils.

Eddie smelled like home, a sanctuary, a safe place. A bit ironic, with fire comes reassurance, in your world, that is.

The garment was a bit loose on your figure, the ends reaching just below your hips. With the canvas of your legs exposed from lack of pajamas, his shirt became your blanket and lover all in one, a figment of the real thing. This will have to do until he returns. 

Cheek pressed to the comforter, Gremlins had just barely faded out into the credits when sleep found you, tucked away and hidden in the cotton of Hellfire.

“Baabe, I’m home.”

Brass met knob when Eddie unlocked it open, enjoying the warm heat of the trailer compared to the brisk November air outside. Campaign was good, as usual. Dungeon Master certainly had its perks, even if repeating senior year didn’t. The journey to his bedroom was swift, eager to finally end his day with you by his side, how it always should be. 

However he wasn’t at all, in the slightest bit, prepared to greet you adorning his beloved club shirt, soft skin of your thighs bare, asleep comfortably in his bed. His bed. Alone. With his shirt on. And boyshorts. Oh, wow. You were going to be the death of him.

It was as if he’d been transported to the Moma, viewing a delicate, historical self portrait of an acrylic artist from the 1700s. You were a sight to behold, and for him only. His feet almost sunk into the floorboards from the sheer weight his heart plummeted against his ribs. He’d just fallen in love  all over again. How do you do it so easily?

A gentle groan emitted in your throat as you shifted. What a sweet sound. You’re so sweet. 

Crouching down towards your face, his ringed knuckle gilded hair from your eyelashes, a smile on his face at the way you stirred from the action. When your eyes awoke to meet his, his lips only stretched wider.

“Mornin', sweetheart.”

Stretching out your arms, a yawn escaped you as a sleepy, “Oh, you’re home,” uttered out in a jumbled whisper. His full palm caressed your face now, occasionally smoothing down your hair while continuing to grin at your drowsiness. He couldn’t get enough.

“Yeah, Hellfire ran a lil late. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

You shook your head into his fingers. “No, you’re fine. I was just bored.”

A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest as he moved to sit beside you. His fingers transitioned from your cheek to the shirt on your skin, rings grazing the neckline and shoulder. Eddie had never seen anything like it, and he wore this exact thing every god damn week. 

“You look beautiful like this.”

It was as if complimenting a model, the way he spoke so carefully and tender. You gave him a look.

“..It’s comfy. I might steal it from you.”

He’d give you anything he wanted if you gave him the word. His lips captured yours in a trance, ending too quick for your liking. 

“You should. You wear it best.”

—

[arabaka]

YEAH YEAH YEAH REIGEN SMOKING BAD YEAH YEAH YEAH but.

₊˚ʚ ☁️ ₊˚ ♡ ﾟ. content warnings ⤸ nsfw. reigen arataka x afab! reader. smoking (I don't smoke so don't make fun of me too bad if I got things wrong TT~TT). oral sex (reigen receiving). takes place before reigen meets mob.

Reigen walking up the steps to his apartment with a little more weight than usual.

Maybe this business thing won't pan out after all. Three clients the whole day. Man, my shoulder hurts. I need to smoke.

"I'm homeee." He calls out, though he's unsure if you're there right away because all the lights are off.

"Hereee." You reply with the same lackluster drawl, sprawled on the bed in your underwear and one of Reigen's old shirts. It was your day off and this is exactly how you spent it: lazing around.

It was a great day.

His... Was not. You hear it by the way the couch creaks under his weight as his body crumples to a seat.

"Hey..." You crawl off the bed, standing between his legs while he works on his suit jacket. Cupping his face in your hands, you bring his gaze to yours before asking, "Bad day?"

Nod.

"Want me to make it better?"

Nod.

He hates smoking inside.

Why doesn't he go outside, you ask?

Well...

The end of the cigarette crackles as Reigen draws in a breath and you hear the inevitable tap, tap, tap of the ashes shortly after. He's feeling better, the buzz of nicotine coaxing his brain to a relaxed state.

But what's really relieving his stress is the work you're putting in as you sit on the floor, in-between his legs.

His white shirt is crumpled above his belly button, exposing his happy trail. His belt unbuckled and pants unzipped, you have his cock in your fist and you're rolling your wrist at a lazy pace, but that's what he likes when he's had a long day.

The room is still and quiet; all that exists is you, him, and the smokey haze that drifts out of the room like his negative energy. His eyes, half-lidded, stop staring at the ceiling, instead focusing on you. How he can’t believe he gets to come home to you. How he’s lucky you’ve stuck around. How good you’re making him feel right now. His free hand rests on the top of your head, his hips softly bucking towards your mouth as a silent indicator: Faster.

You listen and listen well. The room is no longer surrounded by silence. You’ve started slurping around his cock, running your mouth up and down the slender shaft. Your head bobs, alternating just how much of his length you take. Sometimes you suck the tip and that really gets him groaning.

Another drag of the cigarette and the second-hand smoke assaults your senses. You close your eyes, starting to swirl your tongue around Reigen’s cock. It’s easy to lose yourself in sucking Reigen off. It feels just as good for you as it does for him.

“Just a little more… Just a little more…” He moans under his breath. You’re not sure if he’s talking to you or himself but it’s hot either way; you start to rub your clit, the bundle of nerves pulsing even harder when his cock throbs in your mouth.

You’re too good for him. He thinks to himself after another puff. “I love you.” Reigen murmurs, watching in adoration as you get him off, working hard because you know he’s had a bad day.

“G-God…” Reigen grunts, head falling back on the couch as his hand leaves you to cover his face. You have him thrusting into your mouth now and you know he’s chasing a high all the cigarettes in the world couldn’t give him.

The cigarette is long put out by the time his body is on top of yours, the residual smoke still lingering in the air as he slots his cock in front of your pussy. Reigen doesn’t last long but you don’t mind. You rub yourself on his leg after he’s finished, sucking on his neck as he glides his fingers along your back.

Reigen’s fingers twitch. He kind of wants to smoke again.

But he wants to make you cum more.

[midnight-bay-if]

How would each ro act after the first morning after waking up next to mc?

(I'm so sorry if these aren't perfect, but I'm not sleeping so well at the moment. I'm really behind on asks, though, so I still wanted to power through and answer this anyway. I hope it's okay!)

S: S blinks the sleep from their eyes, the morning sun cutting through the gap in the blinds and clearing the haze in their eyes. For a moment, it's a morning like any other. They turn their head to look at the alarm clock on the bedside table. 6:55am, precisely five minutes before their set alarm. Perfect, as usual. They lean over to switch it off.

Then, you shift beside them, the mattress dipping with the movement. S turns their head towards you, a soft smile tugging at their lips. You lay on your side, one hand tucked beneath the pillow that cradles your head. S watches for a moment, taking in how the light of the morning gently caresses your skin. Heat blooms in their chest, admiring how soft your expression is.

Careful not to wake you, S leans forward to press a soft kiss on your forehead, lingering there a moment before slowly climbing out of bed to prepare themselves for the day ahead. After a quick shower, they will go downstairs to prepare breakfast in bed for you. In the meantime, they will let you sleep. Your soft, peaceful look as you sleep is worth protecting.

Rain: Rain rubs their eyes, yawning as the midmorning sun burns threateningly through the dark curtains holding the light at bay. They stretch out their arms above their heads, ignoring the snap of their elbow as it straightens out. They hum, a smile already on their lips before their mind can catch up to why.

A soft sigh pulls their attention to the usually empty space in their bed. As Rain's eyes rest upon your face, their smile widens to a grin, butterflies fluttering in their stomach. Unable to resist temptation, they reach out, tenderly running their fingers across your cheek. They can't believe you are real—that this moment is real.

The excitement bubbles up inside them until it can no longer be contained. They nudge themselves over to your side of the bed until they are a hair's breadth from your space. Slowly, they slide their arm beneath your head before flinging a leg over you, craning it back towards them to enclose the space between you. Your eyes flicker open as Rain presses their forehead against yours.

"Good morning, dear," they greet cheekily. "Sleep well?"

Taj: Taj lies on their back, staring up at the ceiling as they have done much of the night. They have the scuff marks above them memorised at this point. Some chipped paint, a random stain leftover from a slipped tile where the rain soaked through, and some slight yellowing from the nicotine of their cigarettes when they are too lazy to smoke outside.

It's all they have been able to do to stop themselves from staring at your sleeping face all night. Taj never expected this. They never expected someone to want them intimately enough to have this. There's been the odd tumble beneath the sheets in their past, but they were alone again by morning. It's the smart thing to do. The easy thing.

Taj dares a glance to the side, your face much more visible with the rays of sunshine poking through the blinds. Nothing about what they have with you is easy, yet sleepless nights have never felt so welcoming. A hint of a smile sneaks at the corner of their lips as Taj finally turns their body to face you completely.

"I don't know what you're doing to me," Taj whispers, hoping your sleep swallows the words. "... but you better not take it back."

N: N stretches languidly, a heavy sigh on their lips. Their skin tingles with the spectre of your touch trailing the same paths from the previous night, creating an indecipherable warmth to build in their chest - a warmth so pleasant it makes them stop, their breath catching in their throat. Memories of the previous night flood their mind; their brows crease, their lips forming a displeased line.

N finally takes in the room around them, the bed they share with you. It's their first time waking in your bed as the sun rises - a level of intimacy they suddenly feel unprepared for. This isn't them. This isn't what they do.

Passion is an instrument they have tuned well. The strings play a sordid melody under their fingers, designed to entice and entwine. A momentary escape before the strings snap. By then, it's already too late. N has taken precisely what they desired, leaving nothing left.

It started that way with you, too: a new composition with a new instrumentalist, but the steps remained the same. So they believed. Before they knew it, they were dancing to your tune of soft words and intimacy with terrifying enthusiasm. And they do not understand it.

"You are frightening, my dear."

Umbra: Everything feels new. Umbra doesn't typically sleep; they have no need to and have never desired to, either. The dark is full of nightmares, danger and shadow. The night is who they are; it's where they belong. That is, until you. You helped them step out of the shadow, to become a person who touches, who feels, who basks in the light.

So, Umbra's eyes blink the sleep from their eyes, a single tear drop escaping through the blurriness. They turn to you, expecting to see you huddled tight under the blankets to ward off the cold. Instead, you lean close, one leg intertwined with theirs as if basking in their chill. Umbra inhales sharply, their throat choking the emotion from them. The sight of you so peaceful, so still in their presence, is overwhelming.

Umbra dares to run a hand through your hair, no longer afraid you will recoil from their touch. They smile to themselves, their lips cracking with a beautiful sting as they stretch.

If waking up feels like this, Umbra chooses it every time.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I have an odd request… perhaps a captain price fic where the reader is much younger and edgy- likeee covered in tats and stuff,, and price isn’t rly used to that but finds it hot as hell… idk maybe they work together ?? Smut ensues …

IDK I have tatts and wonder what he’d think of that 👹👹

Just an idea 💡❤️😫

Fire it Up (John Price x F!Reader)

Word count: 7.8 k

Tags/warnings: Smut 🔞 mutual pining, flirting, swearing, older man/younger woman dynamic, forbidden love, smoking & drinking, voice kink, a tiny brat taming kink squeezed itself in here too. Reader has tattoos and works as a coder at the base. Rough ~10yrs age gap described, reader is of age I hope to god it goes without saying (Price is canonically 37) Also: no use of 'daddy' in this fic

A/N: I'm so glad for this request anon and I hope you like what I made! Also people please be gentle, this is my first Price fic 🥹 God I wish I could attach the fat scent of cigar here to give you the full experience. 

You don't know what caught your attention first.

The cigar, perhaps. Or the beard? Might be his hips, the ass that tells you this man can fuck a woman for hours.

Or maybe it's the fact that he's too old for you.

No, not too old…

Just older than you. A decade, perhaps, if you were being gentle with him and lenient with yourself.

He certainly isn't old enough to be your father, but he wasn't the type of man your eyes usually drifted on either.

He looks like someone who's supposed to be fishing in Alaska, sucking that fat cigar while taking in the view of mountains while trying to catch wild fish in some wide, free stream. 

He's supposed to come home to a remote cabin: to his little wife who pours him a scotch after he has shown her what he caught today. Make sweet love to her while stars shoot and speckle the indigo night.

He looks like someone who makes love to women.

You, on the other hand, want to ride with him to the sunset on the back of a Harley, clutch his jacket as he drives you to some bizarre highway motel. You want to watch him drink that scotch from your navel. 

You'd do all kinds of crazy shit with him, keep his head between your legs with both hands, grind all over that mustache, and see how wet it gets. You want him to pound you with those narrow hips, take you from behind while you look back with parted, swollen lips and relish the sight of what must be a grown man's hardened body, covered with hair and scars and–

"The bug's still there."

You return to reality, look at the code on your screen, and then at your colleague, a 20-something bloke who looks at you with the lethargic stare that only belongs to techies. You've just been caught daydreaming your eyes off in the middle of a lazy afternoon. Coffee doesn't do shit after 2 PM…

"Yeah I know. I'm working on it," you say. But when the dude leaves, you decide it's time for a creative break. You tell yourself it's only because the code jumps on the screen, not because you hope to catch a certain someone smoking outside. 

The leather jacket is a little too much these days, but you throw it on out of pure habit. You realize the weight of your mistake when you go outside from the ventilated building and notice the sweltering heat. Spring has finally turned into summer.

Coffee doesn’t do shit, but it’s time for another kind of wakey-wakey. And butterflies are a funny term for something that mainly feels like it’s eating your insides out of pure excitement. 

Because he's here too.

Jonathan Price, although no one calls him Jonathan. Few call him John, either. 

Mostly, he goes by the title Captain.

He's stressed; you can tell. But his eyes soften immediately when they fall on you, a brief look to the side, just to know who else comes out to have a breath of fresh air or a smoke. He looks like he's been expecting you, but that might only be a silly girl's daydream. You two share a vice, and you've never been more grateful for your bad habit before this place and him.

And you wouldn't call it necessarily a bad habit. It's simply stress relief if you do it once or twice every few weeks. It's not like you smoke two packs a day. It's not like you even smoke one cig per day. 

Although ever since you started this odd little job in this odd little place, you've smoked one or two nearly every day… And it's not because of the stress.

It's because of Price. 

John. You’d like to see his reaction to you moaning that word in his ear…

"How long have you been here?"

His eyes are still on you, mouth covered by a hand as he makes love to his cigar. And that bedroom voice always gets you. It's better than the upcoming slow drag of nicotine. You're not here for tobacco at all.

"Two weeks." You reach for your excuse and try to prevent your hands from trembling as you light the cig. Usually, you're not this shy with people. Not with men, anyway. But with him, your wits and words disappear. 

You blow the smoke through the air with a quick, lively wisp where he lets it roll out his tongue in a heavy cloud. He's still watching you as if to weigh what kind of woman you are exactly.

"How about you?" You continue the small talk with nervous ease.

He chuckles; the little smile even shows a flash of teeth as he steals a look at the clouds, calculating years with those surprisingly lively eyebrows curled up toward the sky.

"Ages."

He's not that old. Perhaps well over his thirties, might be knocking his forties. The statement is merely an underline of his stress today. You can only wonder what kind of pressure the captain of Task Force 141 is under when you get sleepless nights from a stupid source code. There are a few wrinkles around his eyes, but they only tell you that this man smiles a lot. He might be the only one in this compound who smiles a lot.

"Have you ever tried a cigar?"

There's a glint in his eyes as he offers the thick roll of tobacco to you. It's suddenly difficult to breathe, difficult to even keep your thoughts together.

"No," you shake your head as if your answer wasn't enough to tell him he's the first person ever to offer you such a thing. Then you realize the word does not precisely deliver your eagerness to try that stout cigar.

"Would love to," you hurry to add with a soft smile. "Can I have a taste?"

He walks to you slowly, and your eyes drop to those hips, which sway like he's purposely trying to seduce you.

Fu–ck…

Then your eyes sink even lower, between his legs, to his fucking junk, and it's too fucking late–

Jesus–get your shit together…

You force your eyes back to his and see the little glimmer in them gain a surprised spark – you're totally caught red-handed on checking him out.

Fuck. How can you be so stu–

"Gently then, kid."

You swallow your heart and thoughts down and take the offered cigar; of course, your first thought is how thick and heavy it is. And somehow, you decide right then and there that you will no longer be the nervous, hot-cheeked woman on the corner.

It's time to make him flustered.

So you take a hollow-cheeked, slow suck on the fat cigar. A chaste, savory taste, more like, but there's nothing chaste in the way you raise your eyes to his, putting every ounce of soft seduction in that stare.

He draws breath slowly – his face is full of expression for an allegedly cold-hearted elite soldier. You don't know how often women flirt with this hunk of a man, but he sure looks taken aback by your sudden play. Probably thinks you're too young for him – and you curse the second time you put that jacket on. You want to see his reaction to your sleeves.

"Mm. It's thicker than I thought," you weigh the cigar between your fingertips and let the smoke roll out your mouth. The man switches his weight from one foot to another, speechless, and you suppress a big beam of a smile.

"The taste," you emphasize as if innocent, as if you didn't see that shocked little shift. "Round, and… god, it's almost sweet."

You smile as you give it back, and he chuffs an approving laugh through his nose – those eyes are bear-warm playful now, his mouth curves into an easy smile.

"Nice," you look him up and down as if you're talking about the man and not the cigar.

"Beats those little sticks." 

His voice drops down a few notes; it's almost a husky growl. You barely make out the words he's saying. The tension in the air could form little balls of lightning around you, the flirt is over the roof, and there's even no roof because you're outside – and you take your jacket off, slowly, to make it clear it's summer and not spring.

His eyes fall on the ink immediately, and he blinks a few times, draws some more breath – you tweet your thanks accompanied by another smile and go back inside.

You know he's checking your ass in those black jeans as you walk away.

….....

It doesn't end there.

You see him again and again and again, and at some point you realize he has to walk almost 100 meters from the other end of the base to get to the little corner where the two of you smoke. 

He's intrigued but decent. Holds a distance, never says anything that could be taken in the wrong way – or even in the right way. But he's fucking you with his eyes. 

No… making love to you.

And it drives you crazy.

You don't want that. You don't need that. To be that little wife in the cabin. Pouring him a drink, climbing in his lap, ghosting a finger down the stubble on his chin, see how wide and proud it makes him smile to hold you like you're his and his alone...

God. When did it come to this?

You suck on his fat cigar every now and then. Look him in the eyes while you do it. Once, it makes his tongue dart out, it wets his bottom lip, and then he does that thing with his mouth... the thing where he kind of purses his lips and it makes the mustache dip, and you realize, you learn it's a sign that he's restless, he's flustered.

You make the big, burly captain of Task Force 141 flustered.

And he doesn't smell like the people inside smell. Of stale coder sweat and Joy Division and soft drinks and mommy's home-cooked meals. He smells of rich forest and fine bourbon and half-burnt gasoline. Maybe Saxon on vinyl. Definitely beats those little sticks that are your nerdy co-workers at the hacker department, as you call it.

He may have a flask somewhere; perhaps he takes a sip or two every now and then, whether at work or not. And you don't blame him. Even with those laugh lines and that brown bear benevolence, you can tell he's seen things. 

You wonder what he's like out there in the field. Brutal? Or just efficient?

He never asks about your tattoos, but he eyes them often. There's a certain admiring esteem in his stare. He's checking you out, scratches his chin, and rips his eyes off when they start to drift down. He forces his eyes to stay above your neckline no matter the cost. You mourn that you got rid of the septum a few years ago: you're pretty sure he would've liked that, too. After all, it's a piercing that screams 'warrior' the most. Break after break, you return to your desk, aroused and giddy and surrounded by the rich, masculine aroma of his cigar.

One night, he drives by when you're walking home after what was supposed to be one or two pints.

The car is a big, black pick-up, and when it slows down and starts to inch by your side, your first reaction is a silent curse of why the fuck don't you carry some pepper spray in your pocket.

"Hey, you ok?"

Your head rises from the asphalt the second you recognize that smooth, pleasant voice of a man you had compared every guy to at the pub that evening. The whole man is brimming with burnt sienna, he's hard alcohol with no ice…

You stop and turn, a little wobbly from the pint turned to two or three. Or four.

"Yeah. Had a little girl's night out."

The car rumbles softly, not two meters away, and the sound reminds you of his voice. A soft purr that can turn into a growl, even a roar if he wants to. 

He looks like he's going fishing, even without the boonie hat. The dark hair is cut short, so you won't have anything to tug if he ever ends up between your legs. But you don't really mourn that fact, because he looks so damn good.

He looks you up and down, and you notice the briefest blob of his Adam's apple before he gives you another offer.

"Want me to give you a ride?"

Would love a ride.

Would fucking love to ride you.

"Sure. That's kind of you." 

Your eyes must be sparkling like the fucking stars.

"No problem at all," he leans his elbow on the open window and waits while you round the car and get in. You try to tone down your drunken state, but your moves are a little too brash for a calm and collected coder lady this man has usually caught leaning against the wall of the workplace you two share.

"Did you have fun?"

He sounds like a dad picking up his girl from a school disco, and you purse your lips in slight distaste and amusement.

"Yeah. You know how it is when someone asks you for a pint."

He gives a short laugh and starts to drive. "That never ends well."

You smile and turn to look at him.

"Mm… This one kinda did."

You enjoy the brief look out the window, the sight of someone so formidable and robust and experienced trying to find his way out by feigning something caught his attention in the black, empty distance of a quiet city.

"Glad I could be of service," he brushes off your flirt like it's nothing more than a speckle of dust on his coat.

The rest of the ride is silent, too silent. He turns the music off in case it "bothers you," and it turns into an awkward, overly polite fight about whether to keep it on or not. 

It's a minor shock to notice he was listening to some classical. Not 80's rock, not country, not even BBC. He was just soothing his nerves.

You can't put your finger on what makes you feel so sheepish around this man – usually, you put men on a leash with a few dry jokes and a hearty laugh or two. Now, your flirting is shy and does nothing: there's a wall built up, and from behind that wall, only a few stolen looks…

The pick-up is humming, the engine is running at idle next to your place far too soon, and it's time you get off the car – but you have vehemently decided you will knock down that fucking wall even if you have to drag him to your bed. 

"You wanna come up and have a nightcap?"

Another look out the window as he raises his hand over his mouth, fiddles with his mustache, and avoids the rising heat between you two.

"Thanks, kid. But you need to sleep."

Your heart is pumping, and you feel like a harasser as you place your hand on his thigh.

He doesn't move, but you can hear the audible swallow this time. He doesn't move a single finger even when you slide your palm down that leg, then drag it over to the inner thigh, and start to drift back up slowly, slowly, to give him the time and space to stop you before you reach….

….the visible bulge between those legs, the absolutely gorgeous, ample bump pulling at those pants, something so delicious that you must fight tooth and nail not to race your hand up there and give it a fond grope.

His hand falls over yours just before you reach it.

"Kid. Let's leave it here and call it a night."

His voice is strained and tight, and he's still looking out the window. You don't move your hand away because he doesn't move it away. His warmth stays there, keeping you against him, and you feel like shit for thinking it's not a no… That it's a yes when he seems to hold your hand as a prisoner, wanting to feel your dainty little palm against him.

Your fingers curl slightly, a hopeful gesture to imagine how it would feel to curl and claw at his hips and that ass while he's fucking you.

"Listen. You're a nice girl. A very nice–"

You give a heavy, demonstrative sigh and finally draw your hand away.

"Come on Cap… You're seriously going to give me the "you're a nice girl" talk?"

Finally, he turns. His nostrils quiver as he tries to keep his breaths calm. Your lips part like it's a whole caress he just gave you – and his gaze drops to your mouth instantly. You start to see where the problem is.

You're too young. 

You're forbidden.

"I offered you a nightcap," you tilt your head slightly. "You can come up or you can go home."

You wet your lips, give the bottom lip a tiny little bite, and offer him the last, inviting, soft smile. It must hold an equal amount of sorrow because you can't drown the bitter feeling of rejection, no matter how many drinks you've had that night. No matter how much he seems to want you, it doesn't change the fact that he's apparently decided to stay strong and keep his hands off the cookie jar.

You turn and get out of the car, lean on the door for the final fucking time...

"Didn't know I'd only get to suck your cigar... You're all smoke and no fire, Price."

The door flies closed with a louder slam than you originally meant. 

Now that was a little bit passive-aggressive, you have to admit. But you're drunk, and he's being a pain in the ass, calling you a kid, looking at you like that, having a fucking hard-on and giving you nothing.

…But it does the trick. 

You smile like an idiot when you walk to your place and hear the purr of the engine stop. Another car door opens, then closes, wide footsteps follow you…

A nightcap it is, then.

He looks even bigger when inside a place with walls and a roof. He stands inside your apartment tall and wide as if he's waiting to call attention. Those large hands are over his crotch, concealing the swell of erection you already saw in the car. 

You know the tank top you wear reveals even more skin covered in tats as you throw your jacket away and go get him that drink. The glasses glide on your table, slide nearly to the floor, and the bottle of Jim Beam meets the counter with a devastating clank. You look at the excuse to get him into your place and sigh. 

"You know what… Fuck this."

Offering cheap bourbon to someone like him seems a bit ridiculous. So you offer him something he might actually like. Something he actually came here for. 

You walk to him and throw your hands around him – he stiffens from the middle but looks down at you with a heated glimmer in those eyes. You could've sworn they were charred brown, the same color as his cigar, but up close you see they're actually molten iron. Mercurial.

"You sure about this?" He asks softly.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He unclasps those hands from over his groin, and the warmest weight falls to rest on your waist, even steals a caress to your hip. You want to hurl yourself at him, press yourself against his crotch and grind until you bleed from just that tiny touch he finally gives you.

"You've had one too many, love."

Love…

Shit.

The warmth spreads from his eyes, from that hand, from the word that rolls out of his mouth like a beautiful puff of smoke. It unfurls inside your heart, swells inside your throat, plummets to your groin, and you switch the weight to your other leg to feel how that hand gains more weight as it gets pressed more firmly against you.

"Doesn't change the fact that I want you."

Your voice is nothing short of a purr. When have you ever purred like that to a man? You sound like a housecat, tame and adoring, waiting for a gourmet meal.

"You really want an old man?"

He still has that reserve in his eyes, decent and distant, but underneath, you sense a terrible heat, like the glow of a cigar lit in darkness, an adamant smolder that never dies out.

"You're not that old." 

Your purr turns into a deprived meow. You dangle from his neck, and the smoke, the fire that surrounds him, blends into the gentle scent of a man, the musk of a mature beast. You know he's hairy under those clothes; he fucking has to be. The vision of how his cock must look, surrounded by untame, coarse fur, has tormented you night after night.

And now he's finally here. In your apartment.

You skate your hands over his chest while slowly dropping into a squat, then languidly kneeling in front of his crotch.

He doesn't stop you, not even when you open his belt and the zipper and crawl your fingers down the waistband of his underwear. You have to stifle a delighted gasp upon seeing how his cock springs free and stands proud in front of you in all its glory. And fuck yes he's hairy – the hairiest man you've ever had. 

Cigars feel like tiny little sticks when you wrap one hand around him and lick the weeping slit like it's your favorite ice cream. The groan that follows is a husky eruption above you and gets stuck in his throat as you take him in your mouth.

"Fucking hell, kid…"

He's thick, broad, and the musk fills your nostrils, but what he just said makes you pull back and whisper on the bulbous tip–

"Don't call me a kid," you breathe on his cock, swirl your tongue around him, and his thighs bunch. "Old man."

You finally manage to push some buttons.

The back of his hand brushes your cheek, then slides over to your throat. He's gentle but firm as he forces a thumb under your chin, curls fingers around your neck as if you're a cat who's about to be force-fed some medicine that's only good for her.

"Is that how you wanna play it?"

His thumb brushes down the ridge of your throat. Tentative, promising.

"Perhaps," your lips quiver with anticipation as you smile; your voice is a pitched vibrato before it drops, just to give him a reason to put you in your place... "Old gum–"

The hand pulls up, the grip tightens just enough to guide you back to your feet and up to meet his face.

"Didn't know you asked me here to tame a brat."

Fuck…

You almost moan. 

The hand doesn't choke you; it makes love to you. Claims you as his. 

"Really…?" You sigh. Flash him a filthy, guiltless smile.

The fire surges forth and nearly buckles your knees. His eyes flash in rhythm with your grin, like a sudden flicker of a campfire in the middle of a dark, parched forest.

"This what you want? Hmm?"

The rumble reminds you of the engine of a Harley roaring to life. His throat is burned from the fire of his cigars, the hand on your throat is used to squeezing dead metal and pulling pins from frigid grenades. But even they can't stand a chance against his woodland fire and sycamore smoke. He could bring a cold, inanimate rock back to life with all that fire.

"Yes. I want it. John."

His name on your tongue is a cat's meow. It has the exact effect you hoped for.

"Let's get the brat tamed, then."

"Hah," you finally moan. "Promises, prom–"

The fingers around your throat pull you to his mouth with a python strength. His lips spread yours with soft devouring as he coats you in fire. The coarse beard smells of sweet tobacco – nothing like a pungent cigarette. It's like an old memory: safe and sturdy and strong. Male.

You moan in his mouth – god, what will it be like when he's inside you? – and he capes both arms around you and crushes you against him. Broad shoulders envelop you like a shroud of thick smoke, the cock gets trapped between you like a hot spear, and you mewl like a slut.

Your pussy clenches, just from his warm mouth, the rich velvet of his lips. He takes everything with that kiss, and you're weak in his arms as he bends and molds you against him just the way he wants, opens your mouth with his own and breathes you, samples you like those puffs of smoke he sucks from his cigar.

Your brain short-circuits, you barely notice how your top slides up as his hands go under it. It's dragged up, up, over your breasts and then over your head as he detaches just enough to rip that piece of clothing away. 

You look at him like he's Christmas, then reach for your bra while he opens his pants more to get them down. Your jeans are accursedly tight, and he's breathless, too: the whole room is dark and filled with heavy breathing and rustle of clothes as you claw your socks off, slide your strings down and away, watch him get out of his shirt and throw it on the floor too, all propriety gone.

And then…

Jesusfuck–

He picks you up, lifts you from the ground like you're nothing but a leaf, and strides with you in his lap until your back meets a wall.

The barrel-like chest presses the air out of your lungs while your back travels up – you don't know if his arms or chest do the lifting, but you're being positioned for his cock to enter. Your hands try to grasp something solid before it's too late – his back and neck – your legs wrap around him, feet hooking over his ass as the thick of his tip pokes your soaked folds, and after a few seconds of probing, slides in. 

"F–uck…" you gasp, sounding so needy that it could be a voiceline from a bad porno movie. His lips find the place between your ear and neck immediately.

"Be good for me now," he gruffs, dark and round like the sweetest bourbon, although you know he's the finest single malt in the world. "Be good…"

"Ah–John…"

I'll be good… 

Just for you, I'll be so, so good.

He pants heavy on your neck, grunts as he starts to fuck you against that wall. You knew he might be intense, but apparently, you had no idea. The man is needy as fuck, and has concealed it up until this point. 

You could cry, scream from joy from the thickness that spreads you, fills you with every fat glide of a thrust. The sex borders on rough but is so incredibly tender too, so needy it makes your heart collapse, compress into a taut knot in your chest. It's the softest rocking, the gentlest fucking as he retreats, then ruts into you again and again with sharp, rusty moans. You're in a slow but steady rodeo with this man, your breasts pressed against a solid chest covered with hair, and it tickles, even if his pecs threaten to crush your ribcage.

"You're one hell of a girl," he gruffs in your ear, beard grazing up and down your neck. "Taking me so– Fucking hell, look at you…"

His eyes are embers as they sweep over you: your abundant ink, the helpless, adoring look in your eyes, the little mouth that opens with a gasp, the trickle of sweat that forms between your breasts and meets the hair on his chest. 

He doesn't have to look down to see how greedy your cunt is for him. He can feel it.

"This is what you wanted the whole time? Huh?"

He's all smoke. All fire.

"Yes…"

"Wanted me to take you against a fucking wall? Eh?"

"Yes…just, just take me," you moan and purr some more, giving him everything he wants. "Fuh–fuck me good…"

"Ahh shit..."

You know you're a drug to certain decent men. But to him, you're a forbidden fruit in all its aspects. 

A calm, collected captain who enjoys wide respect, eyeing an edgy, younger woman from the tech department? That's not how this was supposed to go. Thirsting for someone who did what they wanted, looked just the way they wanted, walked this earth like a dark fairy – that's not his usual go, surely. He was supposed to settle down with a proper lady. If he were to settle down at all.

"I've dreamed of this," you whisper in his ear, lips moving just enough to deliver your secret to him.

"Yeah..? Me too," he gives your throat more love with a velvet growl. "Know I shouldn't, but–"

"Shh. Don't–don't…" You grip him tighter, taste the spruce and salt as you breathe his neck. "It's good. It's all good."

He rumbles in approval. Your skin is raw from his beard; even the coarse hair dusting his thighs feels too rough on your skin. And your skin is used to being needled, shot full of ink right inside the dermis. But this… This is branding.

You're silk in his rough embrace, and plundered with no remorse. You sigh and moan, hug him... And then he dares to stop, panting and throbbing inside you.

"Darlin'. Where's the bed?"

The soft question makes you panic. If you go to bed and let him push inside you while you're lying on your back, if you brave a look into those eyes while he takes you, you'll develop more than just a horrid lust for this man. If he collapses on top of you, spent and spoiled while you're at your most vulnerable, you'll tie a string from your heart to his, and you can't, you just can't allow that to happen.

Because he's untamed too. He's not a man who settles down, he's not up for domestication; he's a wandering fire.

"No–no bed," you pant on his muscles, the shoulder that keeps you safely pinned on the wall. "John…? Please."

He's breathing wild too, disguises his surprise well.

"Alright."

He sounds disappointed, and it's not because he doesn't have the strength to maul you against that wall. The rejection stings him too. It makes you want to offer a truce, a little something. When he rocks you again, you graze your fingers up the back of his neck, knowing he will feel ripples across his scalp from your caress.

"We can smoke a cigar after," you propose, not knowing why your voice still comes out as an airy whisper. "Together. I'll pour you that drink…"

His chest swells with a deep breath, he huffs fire on the hollow trench between your collarbones.

"Fuck, woman…" 

It's dense syrup that surrounds you much like those shoulders and arms, that coarse hair, that bold male want.

"And after that I want you to…" You catch your breath and sound like a mouse with your next shy question. "Would you go down on me, John?"

It's like you're under a bear attack, but he stills; his head tilts a little to the side and meets your temple. 

"You wouldn't tease a man like this," he says. A soft warning, brimstone coated in velour, but the core of it is despair. So much need, so much forbidden, distant want… 

"Right? No more teasing."

He's still thinking that you're teasing him… That it's some kind of a joke that you want him.

"I'm serious... I want your mouth on me. I need your–"

"I'll put my mouth on you as soon as we're done here, love."

You have to bite your lips, suck them between your teeth to prevent another deprived moan from escaping.

"Want you to fuck me all night," you continue to whisper on his neck. You should shut the fuck up because it doesn't take a bed to tie that string from your heart to his. After all, they're right there, beating against each other through bone and skin and chest.

"Yeah? That's what you want?"

"Want you to… F-fuck me slow and good from behind and–"

You sniff. Whimper.

You should be ashamed: mewling for more when he's already buried inside you. What kind of a brat are you, wrapping your thighs around that narrow waist like you never want him to pull out?

And you're not crying. 

It's just that the cock inside you is throbbing against your walls as if he's making a home there, his hands dig into your ass cheeks like you're his already, the breath upon your sweat and skin feels far too affectionate. When exactly did a raw wall-fuck turn into such an affectionate, gentle taste of love?

And it's not enough. You want to climb on top of him every morning, ride him slowly and watch him unravel as the sun climbs the sky and coats that fur in gold.

"Could you do that? Please… John, please," you whimper and whine, beg like you're tame already. 

"I'll fuck you all night if that's what you want. Fill this pretty, tight cunt up every way you like."

It's coarse smoke. It caresses you until your legs start to shake. He adjusts his grip, drags the pull-outs like he drags those pulls from his tobacco. Keeps you nicely in place for him to drive back in–

"I'll fuck you 'till you cry, love. Yeah?"

He punctuates that promise with another good, fat thrust. You moan all tame now – a rippling stream, laughing and crying in his molten hold.

His cock fills you while your thighs quiver and tremble in his hands. Your pussy throbs; it sucks him already, the orgasm is seconds away, and your fingertips search for support but only slip over sweaty, hard muscle.

John. John.

"Fuh-…"

He spreads you a little. Those arms are pure iron as they mold you for him to plow. You know he can feel the waves, the way your cunt grips him with longer, deeper pulls as you start to sound downright pathetic.

"Just like that, just like… hah…"

"M-hm. Yeah," he bends the vowels, daubs them with smoke. "That's it. You're doing good. Doing so well my love."

He huffs between the thrusts that have turned into slow, intense love-making. He's making love to you – god, why does he have to be like this…

"Cum for me. Nice and pretty, yeah? Come on."

He encourages you with words, but you can't hear them anymore.

Heat coils in the pit of your core just before you burst with a heady scream.

The spasm is so sudden you almost hit your head on the wall. He's at your throat the minute it's exposed, and your scream turns into a weak wail when his tongue grazes your skin. It's blazing, and dips into the hollow between your collarbones like it's a shot glass full of scotch. Next thing you feel is fire, even some teeth on your neck.

And you thought Price might, just might be intense…

Your head drops as the blunt of the orgasm leaves you. Your feet unclasp, and next up would be some soft waves, but the man continues to fuck your shattered cunt and marshmallow soul with a good, intense pace. The words that pour out of your mouth are those of a brainless person.

"Ah–hah, God–"

"Where's that cheek now, mm..? Pretty little thing."

"John–h…"

The thrusts rub you against that wall like he wants to staple you there.

"So nice and good for me now, ain't ya? Cummin' on command…" An amused chuff right on your poor, chafed skin… "Begging for my mouth and cock."

You travel up and down in a limp heap, trying to hold on to him with weak limbs as he drives into you with a tight series of half-thrusts. Your legs hang loosely on the side, but he has no trouble carrying the full weight of you.

"Slow–slowly, Cap…" 

"Ahh fuck–"

He swears on your ink, right on the trotting pulse on your neck. Through the vapor of man sweat and rich smoke and a whiff of cedar trees bending in the wind, you feel him tense and thicken.

"The fucking things you do to me…" he pants with a low growl, hushed but intense. Your pussy answers with a good, demanding pull. 

"Fuck… fuck–!"

You're a limp doll between him and the wall when he comes. Pressed between a rock and a hard place, literally. His chest being the rock, an entire boulder that whips the oxygen from your lungs as he drives deep, his balls giving a few taut pulls against your ass as he empties himself into you with a satisfied, dry moan. A dark, ripe blossom, shooting straight to your core while you're sealed tight around him.

The world goes still after that; the only thing that moves is your breath and his, a refreshing hot breeze coursing through the stale air. The darkness of the room isn't half as snug as the safety of his arms.

Your fingers find his neck, the short-cut hair and the skin pounding with a rush of blood. He lets you go reluctantly, bends a little to set your feet back to the solid ground. He doesn't pull out, keeps huffing all over you even when you're returned back to the earth. 

And you never want to come back. Your cunt still throbs around him and cries a tiny, thick stream down your thigh. His upper body still pins you against that wall, his breaths still mist your skin, caress the red burns of his beard.

He feels so good. Too good…

When he pulls out, he does so with intense care. He gives you some space to catch your breath, and you finally notice he has fucked your legs into splinters.

"I'm…" You break the hush of heavy breathing with a soft laugh. More viscous load pushes out of you with it. "I don't think I can stand."

"Yeah? Tried to take you to bed," he muses softly, sounding annoyingly content with his achievements.

"Gotta admit it was a good idea."

"As was the nightcap," he rasps, voice drenched in soft smoke.

"We'll get there eventually."

"I have no doubt about that."

You give him a soft, warm chuckle as you cast your eyes between the crest of his pecs. Rough, tight muscle meets your soft breasts with heaving breaths, and teases your nipples to taut little points. The wet hair on his chest looks good paired with your inked, smooth skin… You two look so goddamn fine together.

"I hope I didn't make you deaf with that scream."

He stands at his full height, but tilts his head down and slightly to the side as if you were a new, interesting species he's just found on his travels.

"Wouldn't complain, love," he says. More wet syrup, just for you. He weighs you with his stare, curious and appeased, and you feel shy. For fuck's sake, you still feel shy even though this man was inside you just a moment ago. 

"The bed. Now be a good girl and tell me where it is."

"Down the…hallway." 

A delicate little whisper, again.

It's laughable, how the veteran of Task Force 141 turns you into something so dainty and meek. Captain John Price takes you against a wall like you're nothing but a doll, makes you purr and beg, reassembles you into a weak-willed woman who gets carried to bed. 

This is not how it was supposed to go...

He lifts you back in his lap while you continue to hold onto him like he's your prince Charming. A laugh spills on your lips when he tries to lay you gently on the bed and you manage to pull him down with you. You end up tumbling there in a sweaty, messy heap. 

"Knew you were trouble," he's smiling too as he settles beside you. You curl and wrap yourself around him, your bodies mold and curve together like they're made for each other.

He's so solid, so warm, the kind of man you'd love to fall asleep on every night. No more cold sides of the pillow, no more tossing and turning and trying to get the code out of your head. Just… this chest, those ember eyes burning in the night. Some soft breathing, a roaring engine standing still, waiting for you, just for you…

"I hope this wasn't a one time only occasion," you test the waters.

"No." He shifts a little, disentangles from you slightly. "Unless you–"

"No."

You bend in his arms like a young willow, cut his doubts off with a kiss. It's passionate, and so sloppy it threatens to make the same sounds as your cunt and his cock a while ago.

The hand on your hip tows you closer, then steals its way down your leg. You hike your thigh up, perfectly willing. You're a sticky mess, but so is he: his rock-hard thigh meets your still soaked pussy like these two have always belonged together. And this man's full fire has escaped you until now. There are so many hidden, wild things in him too. 

He would look so good on a Harley… He would look good on a motel bed after riding for days and days with you attached to him like an eloped dark bride. The nights would be smeared with hot sex and cinder and smoke, a dash of scotch on top, he could drink it from your lips. You would serve it to him from your mouth, round the taste a bit so that it wouldn't burn so much…

"Have you ever been to Alaska?" 

The liquor is leaving you, but you don't feel any more sober. The lava in your veins has only been replaced by another kind of fire.

"No."

"Would you like to go?"

"What'ya mean," he murmurs on your tongue, and you know he's hard again just from the thick lust coating his voice. "What kind of question is that?"

"I was just thinking."

"What were you thinkin', kid..?"

"Don't… call me that," you laugh. In truth, you're growing quite fond of it. It reminds you of old movies. "Here's looking at you, kid" and all that.

His laugh is a charred roll in his chest. To him, you're a brat – an unruly kitten – no matter what you say. 

"Kid. Why Alaska?"

He's curious. Borderline hooked. You steal a peek into those vulcan eyes. 

"You'd look good in Alaska. Old man."

"Really," he rumbles a soft purr against your heart. 

Another soft kiss follows. Affectionate… He plays time, but he's also a probing, scanning. You bloom in his embrace, unfurl on his lips like he just wrenched you wide. He could haul you to the cabin right now and you would only cook him dinner.

It's too late, even if you try to shift after such a kiss. Escape to press your cheek against that place between his pecs, the spot where the hair is darkest and thickest. You want to lick that valley where his heart meets his musk. That scent must be born from a good, stout heart.

"Would you take me with you…? If you ever decide to go."

It's a fragile question. A baring of the heart. It holds so much more than an inquiry about whether he would whisk you away on a secret leave. It's strings, pulling from your heart to his, taking root.

"Sure. But you're quite a handful, love."

"Is that so…?" 

You crawl over him as gracefully as you can. He allows you to straddle him, and of course he does. You're no threat; you're only a one woman show. The only thing he's probably missing right now is a glass of scotch and a thick roll of tobacco. 

He takes in the view with hunger: not satiated by that pent-up fuck, just like you're not... 

But then his hands come to rest on your thighs to check if they're still shaking. The touch bleeds possessiveness: it's a thoroughly absent-minded, instinctual attempt to reach for you. It tells you you're exactly where you belong. 

"You seem like the kind of woman who's not for the faint of heart," he says like you didn't just mewl in his arms like the tamest fucking housecat.

And perhaps that's what intrigues him. Contrasts. And even more than that, the odd place where black fuses into white, the gray area where everything is possible. The split-second moment when the skin accepts the ink and traps it in. 

Everyone always says you get buried with your tattoos. That you should think twice before staining your skin with such permanent hookups.

But the thing is, you get addicted to it. It's like standing on the edge of a cliff before a bungee jump. You know you'll never be the same person after you jump, and you know you can't leave that cliff without jumping. It's a stalemate until you clear your mind of doubt and just plunge.

And you don't want to leave this earth without getting stained and sweaty, without dipping your soul into the full experience. You're supposed to get a little dirty. This is Earth, after all.

Your fingers disappear somewhere in his slick fur. Sunrise is hours away, but his eyes spark aflame. They're always, always smoldering like the butt of his cigar. He's a man who causes wildfires at the end of the world – he's a reckoning, a flicker in the dark forest, roaring into a bonfire as soon as the wind passes through the trees.

And you've always loved fire. Wild, and free. The only thing that competes with such freedom is a wide, wild stream. 

"But you can handle me. Right?" Your fingers curl softly around the hair surrounding his navel. "Tame me and everything?" 

It's an offering that causes even fire to tilt its head in curiosity. In the end, you're not sure who tamed who.

"Someone has to," he grabs your hips with rich promise. 

You'll pour him that drink. Light him a cigar after his mouth is full of your taste, see how well it pairs with fire and smoke. You'll toast to the Harley, the crazy motel… 

And Alaska. 

[fandomzwriterk]

Hey, hello! Can I ask a question about mk? How do the characters treat an extremely lazy reader? Like, extremely lazy, and indifferent to everything in the world?

From the characters, can I have Bi Han, Smoke, and Raiden?

A/n: ohhhh I’m glad you asked

Bi-Han

-> might be the worst out of the three of them

-> actively tries to get you up every day and not (according to him) “sit on your ass everyday while everyone else works hard”

-> might actually try and set up “traps” around base so you’re always on your toes

-> will forcefully pull you out of bed and throw you outside, even if you’re half dressed

-> according to him, every person needs to be ready for an “attack”

-> in this case, you were definitely not ready

-> Will absolutely NOT join you in any “activities” that would be within the realm of “lazy” like laying in bed all day, sharing snacks, or just staying inside all day

-> will get SUPER mad if anyone but him manages to get you outside for the day

-> has beat the shit out of Kuai for it too

-> he secretly would join you any day you decided to not go out, but pressure of being Grandmaster keeps him from doing so

-> will eventually ask you why you don’t want to join him in the Lin Kuei

-> eventually understands it not up to him, but he wants you to be safe

-> as a “joke” he sends initiates to “attack” you to mess with you

-> yes, he’s always watching but never lets himself meddle in whatever you decide to do

-> yes, he will also use you as a “punching bag” even though he swears to “go easy”

-> after he betrays his brothers, he forcefully takes you with him

-> practically keeps you hostage at that point but you don’t mind, it’s not like you’re in the mood to leave him anyways

Smoke

-> very understanding of it and your choices

-> will join you every once in awhile to do whatever you want

-> he never says anything to hurt your feelings even though he thinks you should join him on training

-> often sends Kuai or Harumi to check on you when he’s away

-> low-key wants to teach you his tricks anyways, mostly how to disappear and reappear

-> likes cuddling on a couch or bed or hell anywhere comfortable as long as it’s with you

-> sometimes you two watch a show or movie together

-> he will fall asleep on you or vice versa

-> either way, he doesn’t mind

-> literally sleeps like a cat when he’s around you and when he’s comfortable

-> in many cases, he falls asleep within five feet of you, even when you get up and walk around

-> will not hesitate to beat anyone who’s mean to you though

-> supportive through anything

-> often says “fuck it” to things to spend time with you

-> yes, he even says assassins need breaks

-> when you wake up, he’s definitely passed out with you in his arms much like a cat sleeps on your chest

-> idk why im comparing him to a cat but this is literally a perfect description of how my bf is

Raiden

-> is the one pulling you around with him everywhere you go even if you don’t want to

-> even though you might be lazy, he practices extra hard just to flex to the other men when you’re around

-> like Tomas, he indulges in whatever guilty pleasures you might have

-> much like Bi-Han though, he often pulls “pranks” on you with Kung Lao

-> secretly steals some of your things like snacks when you’re not looking, just because he is too proud to cave into eating them when you’re around

-> much like Tomas, he sends Kung Lao or Liu Kang to check on you when he’s fighting in tournaments

-> knows you won’t come to a lot of them so he often snags anything you have (ex a brooch/medallion/ring) to have it on him when he fights

-> whenever Kung Lao runs his mouth about you, he won’t hesitate to put him in his place

-> very peaceful and loves seeing you fall asleep anywhere so he can place his coat or top on you like a blanket

-> even if you’re not there, he thinks of you and wants to win even more when he does

-> HAS beat the shit outta Johnny for saying you’re lazy and boring

-> his guilty pleasure? Skipping “class” to join you on whatever you want to do

-> has been caught once or twice

A/N: I hope this was good I just went with what seemed in character for each guy… or maybe I’m just super impartial to Smoke cause he’s my fave and he acts so much like my bf (my bf is the oldest of 6)🤣🤣🤣

[pebblethestone]

The Worng Action ³

Vox x Reader /Alastor's sibling

Summary - making a meal for everyone, having a talk with the older deer, what next a TV appears?

Masterlist

One Wrong Action Masterlist

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4.

Words - 1545

Warrings - swearing, cannibalism, cigarettes and mentions of blood and cannibalism

A/n - uh little later then I thought I would be posting this but it's done, it's not read proofed cause am always too lazy to do that, and I feel asleep before I got the chance to post it lol

─────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹─────────

Your eyes fall onto all the dishes that you've made for everyone still nice and warm to eat for tea time, making everyone a different dishes to what you think they would like the most.

Well you and Alastor are having venison you made his one just how he likes it, rare as you prefer yours more cooked, even though the both of you are not on the best of terms right now, he still is your older brother. And you wouldn't want to upset everyone by cooking sinners even though that is your special.

Clapping your hands together as you use your magic from some shadows to carry the plates to the dinner table. Watching as they head out the kitchen door. As the last one leaves you follow it.

“Y/n, this looks amazing, and everything looks so good!” you hear Charlie say as she walks with your lip forming into a small smile.

“Thank you, Charlie, would you mind getting everyone? And telling them that the tea is ready,” you say to her as you get to the table the plates get set down and the shadows disappear.

“I don't mind at all Y/n, I can't wait to try your food,” she says as she hurries off to get everyone to the table. Watching everyone come one by one and telling them where to sit so they had the right food.

As everyone is set you take a look at everyone's faces, as it looks like they like the look of their dish

“Well, on you go, have a taste” you say picking up your knife and fork as you start cutting into it.

“Oh, wow- this is so- delicious ” you hear Angle Dust say though eating with his mouth full, a little annoyed he likes it which you're glad about.

“well, Y/n I do dearly miss your food when I used to bring back parts that you wanted after I had killed someone” you hear him say as everyone stops what they are eating and turns their heads to you worried. As you choked on your food a little.

“Ahah don't worry you guys are not eating sinners, I wouldn't do that to you, I don't want to get kicked out of the hotel already, do I?” you say with a glare at Alastor. Pissed that he would mention that your ears were pinned back as the air around you crackles. watching his smile widen.

“well, Y/n I think that everyone is enjoying their food, and I love mine so much” you hear Charlie say seeing her smile as you calm down a little.

After everyone had finished their food they said thank you and how much they had enjoyed it.

“Am very glad that everyone enjoyed their meal I look forward to making more for the future. You all can do whatever you want now” you say as you watch everyone leave the table to go back to their room or to what they were doing before. Getting up from your chair you head to one of the back doors making sure no one's following you.

Opening a door, now standing outside at your back see a bench as you take a set on it a hand going into your pocket and pulling out a small case that holds some cigarettes, as you take one out before lighting it, sighing as you bring it up to your mouth, before hearing footsteps heading towards you.

“There you are little one, you just disappeared,” you hear from behind you, as you panic a little on the inside, you had promised him that you would stop smoking but it's a bad habit you did try, try your best let's just say that.

“Yes, I did need some time to myself Brother” you say calmly. Watching him take a seat next to you.

“Mmm, and I thought I told you to stop smoking, it is a really bad habit. But I guess you never listened to your brother anyway” he says

“And I thought I told you to butt out of my personal life,” you say. Watching as he holds his hand out knowing exactly what it is he wants you to take out the small tin case from your pocket and hand it over to him muttering to yourself as you do so.

“But Y/n I do miss, that gorgeous food of yours. Our mother would be proud” you hear him say from next to you as you are about to reply he's gone, making sigh yet again.

---

It's been about a week since that encounter with Vox, sitting in your room as you make up your bed making sure it was tidy, you loved Niffy but you didn't want her to clean your room. Hearing loud knocking coming from the other side of the door.

“Uh, Y/n you haven't done anything to upset an overlord or something like that have you?” you hear Charlie ask from the other side of the door as you take long steps to the door, swinging it open.

“What?” you ask confused

“Well, uh the TV demon is outside asking for you,” you rolled your eyes hearing about the TV.

“tell him am not here, and I've gone somewhere,” you say to hear as you're about to close the door Vaggie puts her food down to stop it.

“No Y/n you will tell him to leave, we aren't doing that for you,” she says her arms crossed over as she gives you a deadly stare.

“hmm, fine then” you say walking out with them as you walk ahead they follow after you chatting about whatever Vox wants to talk to you about. Getting to the door you see that it's closed you open the door.

“Y/nnn, how are you?” you hear him say as he stuffs flowers into your face, your ears twitching. The smirk on his face, so so annoying always with the charm you guess.

“Vox.... what a present surprise,” you say with a harsh glare as you lift your hand to move the flowers out your face to get a better look at them, a dark blue with an f/c rose sits in the middle surrounded by black roses. Your eyes soften a little but not much to be noticed.

“Well, how about we spend time together like old times?” you hear him say. As you're about to reply.

“How About no” you hear from behind you, of course, Alastor had to intrude, and you turn to face him.

“Alastor I have this handled, you can leave,” you say as he stays standing glaring at the TV his smile seems even forced more than normal. You move forward toward Vox, pushing him a little back as you both stand outside and slam the door closed in Alastor's face. Vox now looking a little concerned as he looks at you.

“I wanted to give these to you,” he says holding up the roses to you, taking the flowers from his hand as you take a closer look at him they ate real roses and no camera in sight. You click your fingers as they disappear.

“Thank you... i. Uh, I think that you should leave, and don't come back. We'll meet next week for our yearly deal and that's it.” you say. You didn't want to hear what he said he looked hurt when you made the rose disappear. You turn your back and open the door walking back into the hotel.

“So are they going out with the TV head?” you hear Angle Dust say on the couch you snap your head towards him.

“What did you. just say?” you say creepily calm your eyes Turning black as you try and relax he only said one thing no need to get over it. Noticed that Alastor had stayed standing at the door.

“Nothing toots, don't get your pants in a twist,” he says, your glare still on him deciding not to reply to the spider.

“Vox is not going to destroy the hotel won't worry, I'll talk to him when I need to. And I'll be heading to my room now” You walk passed them all to head up the steps.

Once you had gotten to your room unlocking the door and locked it again when you got into the room walked past a vase holding the flowers that Vox had given you as you flopped onto your bed.

--Flashback--

Sitting in a quiet little restaurant, a place you found, it was quiet and not a sinner in sight well ones that would cause havoc.

“Y/n! You're here” You hear a surprised voice from behind you.

“Well, why wouldn't I be? It would be rude to decline such a kind offer” you said as he quickly took a set from across you something in his hands.

“Well, uh this is for you,” he says as you move a bunch of black roses towards you. Making you smile you take the flower out of the vase sitting on your table and throw it onto the floor so you could put the roses into it.

“My what a gentleman you are, these are lovely," you say with a smile as you neatly fix the black roses up.

---

Part 4

---

Just leave a comment if you would like to be added to the taglist

Taglist - @hxzbinwrites @22carolina08 @queenlibra134 @decaf-nosebleed @n3tb0t @cyariika @lem0n-eater

[nanamissuit]

I am back again.

*rubbing my hands while sending you a sweet sweet ask*

Fem reader that takes Ghost to meet her Family even when they're Hella toxic, always berating her, judging her, making her feel as if she's not good enough.

When they see the behemoth of a man who has her back and won't hesitate to break theirs, they all scatter away with their tails tucked beneath them.

Major satisfaction for both Ghost and his sweet woman.

Please make it angst and have badass boyfriend Ghosty save the day.🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Family Issues - Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort,Angst,Fluff

It was no secret you hated your family. Your sister always tried to hit on every boyfriend you introduced, Your mom was emotionally abusive, and your father? Rarely around.

So when Ghost asked to meet your family you froze up and didn’t know what to say, of course he noticed. He asked why you looked upset and you sat him down on your couch.

“Well listen…My family isn’t uhm, functional and I just don’t think it’ll go the way you're expecting. I have no problem introducing you but you’re not gonna like it.” “Sweetie, trust me I won’t judge you for your family I know how you feel about ‘em.”

You smiled and rubbed your thumb over his hand. “Okay, I’ll call to see what day we can go over.” 

You called around an hour later and sat outside on your porch smoking a cigarette. Your mother picked up, “What.” “Hello to you too, listen I have a boyfriend of a couple of years and he wants to meet you guys.” “Whatever, Saturday 5:00 I’ll make dinner.” “Great, love you.” But she hung up on you before she could even hear you say “Love you.” You put out your cigarette and just sighed.

You told Ghost and he marked it on the calendar and the day came before you even knew it. You sighed as you got ready to go over. And he decided to wear his mask but he did dress decently to go over. He waited for you by the front door as he saw you putting on some shoes. He smiled and gave you loads of compliments.

The drive was around 15 minutes and when you knocked on the front door your sister opened it and practically shoved you inside just to get closer to Ghost.

“Hey I’m Samantha, you can call me Sam-” “Ghost. I think I’ll just call you Samantha.” She rolled her eyes and he just walked in and made sure you were okay. He never introduced himself as Ghost unless he wanted to intimidate or he didn’t like the person, you assumed he didn’t like your sister.

You lead him over to the dining room table and sat down next to him

You both waited for your mother to come sit with you guys before you ate and she came in around 2 minutes later with your father and your sister.

“Hm, You must be the unfortunate one. I’m her Mother just call me Teressa though and this is her Father, Michael.” He shook both of their hands. Now mind you they didn’t get a good look at how tall he was or how buff he was. Hell they haven’t seen his face.

“So what unfortunate events lead you to meet my shithole of a daughter?” Your mom asked nonchalantly and you took a deep breath and began to get some food.

“Not unfortunate at all, In fact she’s a catch. Met her at a bookstore.” Your sister scoffed and looked at Ghost and tried to rub up on him and he glared at her.

“A catch? She’s a lazy pile of shit. Nothing special about this one.” Your father spoke up and then you just stood up to excuse yourself to the porch outside. And your sister was still trying to hit on Ghost but he was just not having it.

“You’re all fucking pieces of shit, Samantha has been trying to seduce me since I got here and she’s fucking hideous! You’re a mother, act like it, or don’t even bother trying to reach out at all. And you..How could you talk about your own DAUGHTER like that? You’re a horrible excuse for a father.”

Samantha ran off to her room teary eyed and it seemed like your father stood up to intimidate Ghost but he was 5'9 and Ghost is 6'4 and he stood up after your father. He immediately sat down and just kicked him out as your own mother started to cry as well.

Ghost walked out and found you giggling because you heard him sticking up for you and he took you to the car and drove you both to an ice cream place to calm down after the events that took place.

You were so grateful for him, and he couldn’t live without you. So it’s a win-win situation. You love him and he loves you…Just not your family.

I LOVED MAKING THIS AHHH!! Your requests never fail to impress me:)!

[p0orbaby]

Pool house

summary: things take a steamy turn when a night of drinking games makes you jealous

a/n: this was a long time coming

warnings: smut 18+; wanda receiving, fucking outside, oral, fingering, brief nipple sucking, talk of sex, consumption of alcohol, jealous r, tiny mention of pregnancy, is that it? Who knows. Also not proof read cause I’m lazy

word count: 3.2k

-

The summer warmth had dwindled. Replaced with the cool velvety blanket of the night. Embers from the fire pit jumped, creating sparks of light and heat that felt welcome against the goose bumps forming on your skin.

Wanda was sat between your legs. Back against the wooden log you were perched on. Her hair smelt like sea salt shampoo and barbecue smoke. Her skin slick with the excess sunscreen she applied earlier when the sun was at its highest.

There was gentle chatter amongst your friends. Work, kids, future plans all topics that were given attention. Though your mind was elsewhere. Hypnotized by the long licks of flame and the way your fingers were playing with the ring that sat pretty on Wanda’s finger.

You’d proposed a week earlier and Tony decided to use Pepper's impending due date, and the engagement as an excuse for one last hurrah before the baby arrived.

It was fun. Spending time with your friends always was. But there was something about the way the flames danced across Wanda’s exposed skin, casting her in shadows and gold. How she shivered everytime you bent down and whispered honeyed words in her ear. The thrum of alcohol coursing through you that made your body spark each time she pressed herself against you.

“Y/N?” You heard someone question. Your head snaps up to find several pairs of eyes looking at you expectantly. “You want to play?”

You cleared your throat. “Uh, yeah sure. What are we doing?”

“Never have I ever” Clint piped up from the other side of the fire pit. “Apparently it's what you youngins get up to at the weekends”

A groan left your chest in a grumble. Games like this never turned out well. You’d end up drinking way too much just to get out of answering any questions. And having Wanda reveal things about what she had and hadn’t done with other people made jealousy bubble through you uncontrollably.

Wanda must’ve felt your body slump in distaste at the idea, because she turned from her spot below you, lifted an eyebrow and smirked at your lack of poker face. Or more likely at your terrible effort of trying.

“If you really don’t want to play, then we can go inside. But I think it’ll be fun”, Wanda encouraged.

“No, nope, I’ll play, but don’t expect me to enjoy it”

The group hollered uncharacteristically as you grabbed a beer out of the ice bucket next to you and took a long swig. The cold liquid not doing much in the way of quelling your annoyance.

“Right” Tony started with a clap of his hands, “Pep, why don’t you start us off? You better make it a good one”

On the other side of the fire pit, Pepper tapped her chin in thought.

“Never have I ever kissed a friends sibling”

Ooh’s and ahh’s blanket the responses of your friends. Even in the dark you could see Steve blush as Peggy sipped her drink, then told everyone it was all because of a game of spin the bottle in high school. Clint, Tony and their respective partners stayed put, along with Bucky. But to your surprise, both Wanda and Natasha drank.

“Now before you say anything, I didn’t know she was Natasha’s sister”

Hold the phone.

“What? You kissed Natasha’s sister? As in, you and Yelena kissed each other? On the mouth?” You asked aghast. Craning your neck forward to get her to look you in the eyes.

“Now that was a night I’ll never forget” Natasha piped up from beside you.

“Are either of you going to explain? Or will I forever be plagued with the image of my fiancé sucking face with Yelena every time I see her from now on”

“C’mon Y/N, you can’t be getting jealous already?”

“Leave her alone Clint. I’d want to know if you’d have drank”

“Thank you, Laura. At least someone’s on my side for once”

Wanda swallowed more of her drink, “it was years ago. Natasha dragged me to a club after a bad breakup. I didn’t know who she was until Nat saw me stumble out of a bathroom stall and spotted her sister buttoning her jeans. She ended up pulling Yelena out into the street by her ponytail”

“A bathroom-, Wanda did you sleep with Yelena?”

“Babe, it only happened that one time. I promise”

“Anyway” Natasha said. “You can’t have been that good because she met Kate the next night and they’ve been together since”

“Can we please change the subject? Nat! Whose sibling did you end up kissing then?” You needed something to distract you from the blood rushing past your ears.

“Now that’s for me to know and you to never find out”

You frowned as you looked over at Bucky in confusion. He had his hands raised in surrender and shrugged his shoulders. It told you that that information was reserved for people on a need to know basis, and you knew better than to snoop around Natasha's personal life. Additionally you weren’t exactly in the mood for getting scalped.

“My turn” you announced before anyone else could get in a word. “Never have I ever snuck someone out of the house”

Most of the group drank to that one. Wanda included. Obviously. She turned to look up at you apologetically as the next person took their chance to ask something.

-

You couldn’t pinpoint when, but you’d stopped playing.

Perhaps when truth or dare started. Or when Wanda had to kiss Steve instead of telling the group if you’d done anal together or not. Or when she had to count on two hands how many times she’d fucked somewhere that wasn’t a place of residence.

You didn’t know, but you wanted it to stop.

“I’m going back inside” you voiced to no one in particular. Words slurred and sticky at the back of your throat.

Wanda turns to look up at you, scanning your face and making a call you didn’t expect.

“Actually, I’m pretty tired too, I think I’ll head up with Y/N”

There was something in the way she said it. To the point. Loud enough for everyone to hear. No room for questions.

You could feel an argument brewing.

The group bid their farewells with relative pushback. Each couple waving a lethargic hand and spouting that they’d most likely follow in your footsteps soon. You nodded and smiled forcibly as you got dragged away into the darkness by your fiancé.

There wasn’t a sound between you as you walked. The only noise heard was the tap of your shoes against the ground and the chirp of crickets in the bushes lining the path you both tread.

Why she had taken you back up to the house this way you’d never know. All you wanted to do was go to bed with as little squabbling as possible and go to sleep. But Wanda apparently wanted to take the scenic route, past the tennis courts and up through the pool house. You followed to appease her.

It wasn’t until the reflection of the light dancing over the water didn’t blur in your preifery that you realised you’d stopped.

You looked around confused. Wondering silently why you’d been halted on your journey to a soft plush bed. Chlorine filling your senses. Wanda looking unreadable and red cheeked in front of you as you shuffled slightly on the spot.

“Is this your way of telling me I’m not allowed to sleep in the bed tonight? Because if it is, can you let me say one-“

You were abruptly cut off by Wanda’s lips crashing into yours. She tasted like beer and chewing gum. And as much as you liked where this was presumably going, you had to pull away and regain your bearings slightly.

Her eyes fluttered open, “wait, Wanda,” the soft nudge of your hands on her shoulders didn’t do much to stop her as she closed her eyes again and went to dive back in. You felt awful when you craned your neck back to slow her advances.

“Wanda, stop. Hey, hang on a sec, just-“

“Do you not want to fuck me or something?”

Her question caught you off guard, having you stumble back a little at the force in which she asked it.

“I thought you were upset with me? I, you’re not angry?”

“Not nearly as much as you apparently are. I could practically feel the anger pouring out of you. I thought I was going to have to pull you away when I told everyone my body count”

Even the mention of that made you tense your jaw and pull your hand from her grasp.

“See! You’re angry and it’s totally fine. But I want to make you feel better”

“In the pool house?” You questioned, turning your head to see if there was something in the room that you were missing.

“In the pool house” she repeated, almost laughing when you furrowed your brow further with your growing confusion. Wanda helped you along a little. “Did you notice any of my answers? Like, I don’t know, where I have and haven’t had sex before?”

“If you’re going to rub all that in my face I don’t wanna hear it”

“Y/N, baby. Think about it. Me and you, together, alone…”

You weren’t stupid by any means. And Wanda could easily blame the alcohol in your system for not clocking onto what she was saying sooner.

She practically buckled at the knees when you realised what she meant.

“You wanna fuck in here then, huh? Outside where anyone could see us?” You cooed, arms brushing against her sides, sending shivers down her body.

“I want to answer some truths about you. About us. I’ve never fucked outside. You’d be my first”

“Yeah? Was no one brave enough to take you under the stars?” You mumbled your words against her throat. Breathing in the lingering scent of her perfume as you went.

Her voice caught in her throat, “didn’t let them. Didn’t want them that way”

“Saving the best till last then”

-

You were half naked and sweating. Hair sticking to the back of your neck, dripping down your chest uncomfortably. Not to mention the increasing worry blooming through you that the sun lounger you were on was going to give way.

It was creaking as if it would.

“Wanda, baby, you need to be quiet”

And your fiancé was moaning like she might break too.

Her response was just a guttural groan that she released from deep within her being. A growl, a frustrated roar. It rumbled through the space like thunder on a humid April afternoon. It didn’t help that half of the pool house roof had been retracted back earlier in the day, creating less soundproofing than you’d originally realised.

Outside indeed, you thought as you brought a hand up to cover Wanda’s mouth to quieten her down a little. As much as you loved hearing her produce those noises for you, you’d much rather her keep them to the comfort of your own home. Or at least confined to four walls and not an echoing amphitheater.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet” you found yourself saying. Fingers slipping out of Wanda’s cunt covered messily in her arousal. Wrist aching with the effort of thrusting in and out of your girlfriend.

The lift of Wanda’s hips was her reply. Making the lounger squeak that little bit more as she used the heels of her feet to encourage you to enter her again. To have her pussy squeeze tightly around your fingers.

“Get on the floor” you instructed suddenly. Abruptly moving your body away from hers, wiping your hand on the soft cotton of your shorts. The other hand pulling at one of her ankles as you went. “I don’t trust this fucking thing”

She looked disoriented. Eyes wild and cheeks dusted pink as her mind caught up to what you were asking her to do. Once the annoyance of you stopping your actions had dissipated enough, she followed suit and clambered clumsily to the floor on wobbly legs.

“Lay down” you ordered, hand reaching out to pull the cushioned lining of the lounger to the floor for some added protection.

Once settled, you found yourself lying on your stomach between her legs. The padded lining not long enough to accommodate you. The cold floor beneath you making you shiver along with Wanda’s fingers tangling in your hair as she swiftly guided you to where she needed you most.

You let mer maneuver you. Working at her relentlessly. Sucking her clit into your mouth with practiced ease. Mixing your saliva with the slick you had already drawn out of her. She tasted perfect and it made you moan against her almost as loud as she was moaning into the stars above your heads.

The way you flatten your tongue against her after swirling it around her bud has her squirming beneath you. It makes you prickle with pride. How you alone can make her feel like this. How Wanda was putty in your hands every time you got yours on her this way.

Though as much as you loved the way she sighed and breathed and moaned in a way of satisfaction, it was starting to make you paranoid about being caught.

“Wanda, you need to keep the noise down”

She was about to protest. Sucking in a breath to steady herself before she answered back to you. But your fingers cut her off as they spread her open then entered her heat again. Curling and prodding the right spots causing her to clamp her thighs around your head.

It was that that made you blissfully ignorant to what was happening outside of the bubble you and Wanda had created in the pool house.

As her orgasm wracked through her loudly, and your ears were muffled by the flesh of Wanda’s legs pressing against them, the two of you were none the wiser to the consequences of Wanda not doing as she was told. Not until a screech of someone behind you aggressively pulled you out of the moment.

You turned as best you could in the position you were in. Body twisting awkwardly as Wanda scrambled around you to try and find a semblance of dignity. Though her crossed arms and legs didn’t really leave anything to the imagination.

“Why am I not surprised?” a humored, raspy voice echoed around the room. Bouncing loudly off of the glass walls. “I told you it wasn’t rabid foxes”

Rabid foxes? Seriously

“Can you guys, I don’t know, fuck off?” You snapped. Knowing full well who it was without even having to look. You lifted onto your elbows to try and give Wanda some sort of privacy. Your body straining with the effort to stay upright. Thankfully you were still half dressed otherwise Natasha and Bucky would’ve seen way more than what they bargained for. Not that they hadn’t already.

Natasha's lips quirked to a smirk, eyeing you both up and down, whilst Bucky at least had the respect to cover his eyes. Stumbling slightly as he lost his footing whilst blind. The blush peaking on the tops of his cheeks telling you he was just as embarrassed about this whole thing as you were.

You turned back to Wanda, hoping to calm her a little. You found her wide eyed and stone still. Well, other than the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest as she fought for breath. In your opinion she looked mortified. She wasn’t a prude, but being caught fucking outside by your friends isn’t something anyone really wanted to tick off their bucket list.

“Now!” You prompted, annoyed. And not seconds later you heard shuffling and giggling as the two of them finally left you and Wanda alone in peace again.

Talk about a boner killer.

“You okay?” You asked, bringing your clean hand up to brush wet hairs out of Wanda’s face.

She nodded. Vacant. You couldn’t tell if she was traumatised or still coming down from her orgasm. Perhaps it was both.

There was a moment when you thought you heard more footsteps. Believing briefly that the Barnes’ had spread the word of your activities and the rest of the group had decided to gawp too. But the second your head spun around to look, Wanda’s fingers found the back of your neck, twisting you back to face her, and kissed you. Hard.

Her tongue was in your mouth before you could even register what was happening. You wouldn’t complain. You never would. But the change of pace gave you whiplash, and you needed a second to find your footing.

“Wanda” you sighed as you pulled back slightly. Just enough to watch her brows crease and her eyelashes flutter under the soft light of the reflected water. “Baby?”

“You don’t wanna kiss me?” She asked softly. Demure. As if she hadn't just been caught getting eaten out on the floor next to the pool.

“Of course I wanna kiss you. Just wanted to check on you first. Promise me you’re okay?”

She nodded and leant in to kiss you again. Softer this time. Full of love and care and everything Wanda rolled into one.

You melted into her. Lifting your body fully off the floor, pulling her with you so she stood too. Slowly leading her back to the lounger, having her perch on your lap. You ignored the creak of old plastic this time.

“You know, I think I like it when you get jealous,” she says. Arms wrapping around your neck to keep you close.

All the air threatened to remove itself from your lungs. You had to squeeze the flesh of her ass to keep yourself grounded. To stop yourself pouncing on her again.

“You do?” You finally choked out. Hoping the effect her words had on you weren’t so obvious.

“Mhm” she hummed. “And guess what?” This time she leant in and whispered softly in your ear. Making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You swallowed thickly in anticipation. “I liked getting caught too”

Warmth flooded through your body. Electricity igniting the ends of your fingers, all the way to your toes. Ears going red at her confession. And this time you couldn’t hold back. She squealed, all spoiled when you brought your mouth down to suck on the skin of her neck and down her chest. Hummed in pleasure as you wrapped your lips around a hardened nipple and sucked. Shuddered when your fingers ghosted down her abdomen and found her clit. Pinching it, then soothing it with gentle circles.

“You're a menace, truly. I hope you know that”

Your words were said between sucks and licks. Her hips rolled against your in answer. And when your fingers breached her again, her breath caught in the back of her throat. It was only a matter of time before it was released into the air again. Alerting the others to what you were doing like a lighthouse beacon over a dark sea.

But this time you didn’t care. She could scream your name into the sky as loud as she could and you’d carry on.

And the creak of the fucking sun lounger? The splintering of it fell on deaf ears as Wanda grounded down on your hand, spouting profanities at you as your fingers got soaked with her once more.

[thebearer]

when teddys like two or three months you and carl are in a patch of him not being around and he comes home one day and she gives him no reaction or loves, and someone she sees frequently she is gummy smiling at them

oh this would wreck him. like the freezer scene has nothing on what this would do to him.

so the bear is doing really well. like really, really well, but they've got some competition. this new restaurant is moving closer and a little too close. they already tried to take marcus and syd, and carmen is stressed, falling back into his old ways. he feels like in a way he got himself here bc he had a baby and got lazy in a way- distracted, is more like it. as awful as that sounds, that's how he felt.

teddy's about six months and carmen's been at work non-stop. comes home late, if you go to the restaurant he barely has time for you, he's tightly wound and hateful- loses his temper quickly. richie tried to talk to him, tina, too; and he told them the same thing- to mind their own business.

you miss carmen, you do. but when you tell him that, he tells you he's here now- now being when he's practically collapsed in bed beside you.

it's the roughest patch the two of you had ever been through, and carmen doesn't even seem to realize it. until one day. the other restaurant got moved to the other side of the city- something about the building being mysteriously shut down for shoddy wiring (uncle jimmy had nothing to do with it!!)

carmen's feeling good. feeling like he can breathe again.

comes home early and you're surprised. he's happy and excited, but when he goes to teddy, she cries.

that tiny baby cry for you, just a little whine of sorts that she does when a stranger tries to hold her.

a stranger.

"teddy," carmen coos, trying again. "it's daddy, teddy bear."

teddy just turns into your shirt, whimpering and clinging to you. you watch carmen's heart break- the fall of his face, eyes widening into horrified realization.

"i think she's cranky, carm. it's her nap time-"

"she doesn't even know who i am." carmen's tone is hard- hurt.

"no, she's just a little sleepy, carmen. look, teddy, look," you coo, bouncing her lightly to coax her out of your chest. "look, baby, it's daddy."

teddy seemed to recognize the word, eyes lighting but she didn't relate carmen to that. blinking and looking around like she was looking for her dad. carmen's face crumbled, running his hands over his face to keep himself from sobbing in front of you.

you didn't know what to do, how to make it better. "i'm going to smoke." carmen rasped, voice tight with emotion, snatching his cigarettes off the table and going outside.

he called the only person he knew to. richie. breaking down, raw and emotional, begging him for any sort of advice on how to make it better.

"cousin, she's a baby. you got time to fix this. she won't even remember this-"

"-she doesn't even remember me." carmen sniffed hard, knee bouncing as his chest bubbled over with that familiar painful panic. "my own kid doesn't know who the fuck i am. what the fuck richie? what's fuckin' wrong with me. all i ever do is fuck everything up-"

"-hey, cousin, i'm stoppin' you right there, ok? let me be honest with you. this ain't about you, ok?" richie huffed. it was mean and cutting but it was true. "this isn't the time to be feelin' all sorry for yourself and shit, ok? you left your wife alone with that baby and you've been a real jagoff- like i said."

carmen hated it, hated that he was right, hated how he felt.

richie continued. "instead of sittin' in there like an asshole, why don't you go inside, take a few fuckin' days off, and get your shit together."

"cosuin, i-i can't do that-"

"- holy fuck, carmen. ok, let's try it again, alright? go inside. quit being a self loathing jagoff piece of shit, and take a few days off to be with your wife and kid, ok? i got the place for a few days." richie snapped.

"richie, we're booked for the next-"

"-look, do you trust me or not?" richie snapped.

"yeah, yeah, i trust you, c'mon." carmen muttered.

"then i got it, alright? if i need you, i'll call you, but for right now- your family needs you. if this was tiff or eva, i wouldn't even think twice about it. go be with your family, and fix this shit, you dumbass." richie huffed.

carmen took richie's advice. finding you in the bedroom, folding teddy's teeny tiny baby clothes. it made carmen sob. heavy heaving cries and mumbled apologies while he clung to you.

the next four days, carmen wouldn't leave the house. wouldn't leave your side or teddy's. he'd gotten her hesitantly out of the crib, eyes red rimmed when he cooed at her and changed her. she didn't cry this time, even giving him a tiny gummy smile that had him emotional all over again.