#cod harry stone

[kruegerbourg]

cod fans who like the British characters

[eyelambspider]

♡ Strawberry Shortcake || Stone

⤷ summary : stone's smoking when he suddenly realizes you look really fucking good, enough to start fantasizing about you ♡

┊pairing : harry stone x gn!reader ┊content warning : mention of drugs/smoking, swearing, nsfw, stone and his horni thoughts, lap sitting, shotgunning ┊word count : 1.6 k ┊a/n : completely inspired by his bo6 skin

The dry filter of the blunt pressed against his dry lips like an angels kiss. Reverent and duly satiating his thirst for that divine high.

Stone sighed softly, the nicely wrapped joint dangling between his lips as if it were made to sit there. His iconic green balaclava was rolled up in order to free his mouth for a well earned smoke. Exposing the stubbled expanse of his pale throat and jaw. Hints of a moustache peaking out from under the hem but still hidden by the knitted fabric.

Normally, he wouldn't have done something so... hasty—like rolling up his mask—but fuck he was dying for a buzz.

The fact you were sitting across from him was hardly a deterrent either.

Stone flicked the wheel of his lighter, cursing as it sparked but never caught. "Piece of shit," he murmured, the joint sticking to the edges of lips while he spoke.

Of all times...

The pad of his thumb ground against the small metal wheel, the skin already rough from the countless times he'd done this.

Click. Click. Click.

Until finally, the damned flame sparked to life. "Thank fuck," he muttered, uncharacteristically gentle as he cradled its warmth and brought the lighter up to his lips. The pearly paper caught and burned before ebbing into a low simmer. Finally getting what he had wanted since this whole 'operation' had started:

A fucking smoke.

He set the lighter down on the armrest, leaning back into the loveseat he had taken up residence on. Sinking into the old cushions as if he hadn't a worry in the world.

Stone finally closed his lips around the filter, breathing in low and deep, allowing the sugary sweet smoke to skim across his tastebuds and fill his lungs.

"Fucking hell-!"

Stone suddenly pitched forward, the burn of the smoke forcing him to expel a series of almost violent coughs and wheezes.

From where you sat, your eyes flickered up with a glint of discontent, watching as smoke began to pool around him in a thin fog.

The mission-the one you were both supposed to be doing-was to track and report on the small cafe across the street. Noting who came and went through its doors, and more importantly, waiting for your target to show up.

And yet, despite your protests, Stone had still managed to conjure up a blunt to smoke.

You didn't even need to say it. Stone could already feel the contempt rolling off you in waves as he cleared his burning throat, still snickering and coughing until he relaxed back into the loveseat with a soft thump.

"Didn't expect this shit to be so bloody sweet," he explained with a raw tone, pointing with the end of the joint as if to prove a point.

Wasn't sure what kind of weed he bought-didn't care either-but he wasn't expecting the smoke to taste like maple sugar and vanilla. Sweet wasn't his thing.

It didn't matter though, because just as quickly, Stone was bringing it back up to his lips, taking another long drag and letting it sit like cotton candy in his lungs. The second hit becoming easier.

He breathed out deep and smooth this time, the light grey smoke billowing out in soft plumes in the space between you two.

He sat back, utterly relaxed as he watched the smoky tendrils lick and curl upwards towards the ceiling in an intricate, formless dance.

For a few minutes, his slowly reddening eyes dilated and zoned in on the sight... before his eyes focused in on your form from beyond the thin veil of smoke.

Your head was already turned to the book perched in your hand, eyes always flickering to the side to watch and lookout for the target. Probably pissed that he took his 'break' to smoke...

You both knew he wouldn't be able to swap out and take watch for a while. Not while he was high.

"You're a bloody buzzkill, ya know that?" he piped up with a grin.

When you didn't respond, he didn't push it. No point in poking for a fight when all he wanted to do was sit back and enjoy the quiet; Now that he had time to smoke his weed 'n all.

Stone let his head loll against the cushion of the chair, angling his blue eyes upwards. Both of his arms were now slouched up on the armrests, his legs spread wide and comfortably.

A lesser man would've fallen asleep right then and there.

He pulled the joint from his lips, tapping the ash onto the motel carpet.

The initial burn of the blunt had rubbed his lungs raw. The feeling akin to breathing in a fine, powdered glass. But slowly the elegant pain wore off and filled itself in with a syrupy feeling that warmed his chest and spread out towards his fingers and toes.

Every nerve in his body begun vibrating and buzzing pleasantly. The high wrapped around his ribcage like an angels wings and staying there. Light and feathery.

Stone had to fight the urge to chuckle at the feeling. Like his body wasn't made of lead anymore... but rather: replaced by a soft cloud.

The room now smelled acutely like a carnival; Candy apples on a hot day, the smell of cotton candy and popcorn.

He licked his dry lips, remembering to reach up a heavy hand and pull his balaclava back down. The silence in the room stretching on.

He heard the sound of you flipping a page in your book, and suddenly propped his head up. Not particularly fast, but the movement made his vision swim and stretch. Trying to blink into focus.

For one reason or another, Stone seemed completely captured by your presence. His blue eyes couldn't let go. Watching as the dappled sunlight filtered through the window next to you, highlighting the supple curve of your cheek and lips.

"Fuck..." he muttered under his breath.

The masked man nearly jolted at the sudden perverse grumble that slipped from his lips... so profoundly surprised by the sound that his eyes widened slightly.

Where the fuck did that come from?

For a moment, he'd worried you'd heard the odd sound... but you didn't seem to notice. Thank fuck-... but... not being caught right away made the thoughts come flooding back just as quickly.

Your lips, your hair, the curve of your neck and throat.

His eyes kept drinking you in, roaming down your body with a soft hot desire. The buzz in his veins only making the situation worse for him.

The blunt was making him really fucking horny, filling his head with heady images and fantasies of what he'd like to do to you should he be given the chance.

Kiss your lips swollen, bite them until they were raw and you whimpered into his mouth. To tangle his hands in your hair and tug at your scalp. Wrap a hand around that throat of yours and just-bite or suck or squeeze a bit-

"Fuck" he muttered again, realizing he was sinking further and faster into the deep end. Getting worked up for... 'no reason'?

Stone pried his eyes away, trying to loll his head back again and focus on the bland popcorn ceiling above...

But he was getting fidgety, his leg bouncing softly as he tried to think of literally anything else-but all he could think of was fucking you.

The seat of his pants began to tighten, cock swelling beneath the denim at the mere thought of being buried in your heat.

He tried to hide his erection subtly, placing his free hand on his lap and covering it some.

Couldn't just take a smoke and relax, could he? Of course, the sweet blunt and smoke swirling in his head had to make him horny.

He tried to curse the feeling, but couldn't find a real push to do so... His body felt too good. Too alive.

So, he lifted his head again, stealing another glance at you.

Its not like you were doing much. Just sitting, chin in palm and reading. Eyes darting off to the side to watch the cafe... too wrapped up to notice he was painfully hard and fantasizing about you sitting in his lap instead.

Straddling him, wrapping those legs around his and seated on his thighs like you belonged there.

He shuddered involuntary at the thought, wishing and hoping you'd sit all your weight on him right about now.

He'd wrap his arm around your waist and pull you down onto his lap. Grind your hips against his in a way that spoke of a primal, instinctual need that was building inside of him. To cradle the back of your head and card his fingers through your hair. Hold your face so close to his that your noses would brush. Your soft looking lips skimming over his teasingly. He'd take a drag of his blunt, reveling in its sugary sweet tang before he pulled you close, waiting for you to part your lips so that he could kiss you. To breathe the warm smoke into your lungs, to feel you breathe him in like you needed him just as badly as he needed you.

To share a smoky breath like it was both your first and last.

Stone let out a shaky breath, panting softly as white-hot desire wracked through his body. His eyes were red around the edges now, blue eyes blown wide with a mix of THC and lust.

His leg never stopped bouncing, and he tapped the ash of his joint back onto the carpet again. Silently debating what or how he was going to fix the problem now throbbing insistently against his zipper.

pt.2 is here!

[yunatheintrovert]

Harry Stone

Prior service: 1 YORKS, SAS (1966-1975)

[eyelambspider]

Hii!! I love your harry stone fics so much the fandom is so starved of his fics!! This is a bit boring but what would he be like with a bubbly s/o? Like, talkative, jumps on to people to hug them, but not a pushover, yk?😈😈

thank you :‹ ! also no request is boring! i always like writing what y'all give me! i think a s/o like this would balance Stone out pretty well too!

Easy, Sunshine || COD Stone

Stone's initial thoughts would be along the lines of confusion and a little... hesitant.

Someone as friendly as you seems a little naive. Therefore a little untrustworthy.

He's all for talking, the two of you could probably talk for hours without putting much thought into it. And he'd love it.

He begins to like that you're so open. Always so happy and bright all the time.

Its a little refreshing from the people he's come to work with and his life in general. Military men become a drag to hangout with.

Also... the sound of your laughs begins to make his chest feel funny.

Would love to be with someone who could take his teasing and crude jokes, and even dish a few back his way.

(You'd absolutely have his heart after that. Not that-y'know-he'd show it)

Stone would love the physical affection too, eventually just opening up his arms to catch you when you run up to him. Its also funny to watch your reaction when he doesn't put you down.

It would be inevitable, your relationship with him.

I think pretty early on into your relationship Stone would be prone to jealousy (even if he won't admit it). Especially when he watches his s/o jump up and hug someone who isn't him. Or god be- someone he fucking despises/doesn't deserve it in his mind.

It's something that goes away though. It's just who you are, and now he's the one who rips you off someone like your Velcro when the other person is clearly uncomfortable.

Okay, maybe sometimes it still makes him feel... twitchy. Watching you hug or laugh around someone so friendly like.

I think it would surprise him to learn you aren't actually a pushover. Either when you talk back to him or someone else, a wave of realization washes over him as he watches you stand your ground.

You've earned his respect, and that's a feat not many people can say they've done.

He probably actually needs to be put in line sometimes so... get on that.

He listens to what you say, especially if you scold him or tell him to do something. Kind of like a rowdy dobberman that only listens to one person... thankfully its you though. "Fine." he'll huff like its nothing and walk off like nothing happened.

Compares you to quote: "A little ray of sunshine" sarcastically of course, but the image always appears in his head when he's near you.

He's obviously protective of you. He secretly fears a day could come where you aren't... so bright anymore. If this man can prevent that, there is literally nothing he wouldn't do to keep you safe and happy.

[eyelambspider]

hiii, first off your writing fucking slaps, i'm loving it so much! second, can i request a sort of continuation to the Strawberry Shortcake Stone thing? except maybe Stone thinks he's gonna be calling the shots, but reader takes the lead and turns him to mush in their hands :3c (i'm so gay for that man it's unreal, help)

[anon-forgive me anon-sobbing] its been a minute since this request, but i haven't forgotten about it-promise... anyway, i added as much damn smut as i could for all our sakes i fear- p.p.s. we're all gay for stone *defeated* || ⤷ pt.1 here!

♡ Strawberry Shortcake Pt.2 || Stone

┊pairing : harry stone x gn!reader ┊content warning : nsfw/smut, mentions of drugs/smoking, swearing, lap sitting, riding, sub!stone (?), kissing, soft dom!reader (?), grinding, your guess is as good as mine ┊word count : 2.6 k !

Fuck, maybe he really shouldn’t have smoked…

Stone would’ve chuckled dryly at the thought— his throat already hoarse and raw from the smoke—if his mind wasn’t already stuffed to the brim with fantasies of your naked body. The images flashing through his mind like some sort of demanding epiphany.

Those hips, your ass… he wanted it so badly; his gloved fingers itching on the armrests of the chair, twitching as if he could already feel the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips, riding him insistently.

The cloud surrounding his head—both inside and out—was becoming hotter and hotter. Stuffy with need. So much so that he was painfully aware that he was panting softly beneath his balaclava. The heat crawling up his neck and probably flushing his skin below.

Stone sat up with a soft grunt. The need pooling between his thighs making him shift in a futile attempt to try and relieve some of the pressure there.

“Christ,” he mumbled to himself before lifting his balaclava up over his mouth again.

The cool air of the motel room was a momentary shock to his warm skin, quickly chased away by the fact that he was now guiding the blunt back up to his lips. Those usually knowing eyes of his now dilated and blown out with uncut lust.

When was the last time he had been so riled up?

So…

He sighed, taking a drag.

…in need of a fuck.

“You know…” he started, loud enough to finally catch your attention; even a little. Your head tilting an increment or less to show that you were listening… barely.

Stone breathed out the plume of smoke—long and smooth—watching as the opaque vapors lulled towards you purposefully. “It’s ‘bout time you considered taking a break, yeah?”

You glanced up just in time to see him grin. A rare glimpse of his true smile, his lips pulled back with his usual cocky attitude... but...

Stone snickered, trying to mask how utterly whipped he was.

His heartbeat thrummed through his veins like white hot wires. The weed was making his vision vibrate, the motel room buzzing around his head. The heat was already spreading euphorically through his limbs, and he was trying desperately to focus on acting like his usual self instead of a man on fire.

He watched as your brows knitted together, probably picking up on something... off about his current state.

The way his chest rose and fell quickly beneath his jacket, the feverish pulse in his throat, and the way his eyes relaxed... staring at you like you were holy water to a desperate sinner.

"Come on love," he purred, patting his lap invitingly, "take a break, yeah?"

As convincing as he could muster (and trying not to sound too desperate in his attempt) Stone could still see the doubt on your face.

Was this some weird trick of his? No, he had to be joking. Some sort of test to see your reaction, just to chuckle at you in a split second when you considered it...

He knew those thoughts, could practically read them all over your face like that book in your hand, but he couldn't have been more serious in his life.

"We have a job to do," you muttered, shaking your head in dismissal. Not willing to play into his hands this time or risk falling into one of his 'shenanigans'.

So when you turned your attention back off to the side, eyes on the pages in front of you, still watching the cafe for the target to appear... Stone sighed. The disappointment hitting harder than he cared to ever admit.

"Shame," he mumbled, slumping back into the armchair, head still swimming lovingly around him. "Real shame."

He let his eyes close then, trying to stumble back into 'virtuous' thoughts like... fuck, what should he think about?

He mumbled again, shifting in his seat to try and get more comfortable. His thoughts so alive that he didn't even register the soft approach of footsteps on carpeted floor.

He smoked to take a break from the mission, he shouldn't think about that... hell, if the two of you missed the target what's a little 'oopsie' anyway? Nothing he couldn't talk himself out of anyway...

Nah, no mission shit. Instead, next time he smoked he'd try to find something good- not something that melted on his tongue like fucking cotton candy and- ...shit! He had to try and coax you over again-

Before another fumbling thought could form, Stone's eyes sprang wide open. Whole body jolting with abrupt surprise as you sat in his lap, straddling him.

Book—and mission—completely forgotten by the windowsill.

You made yourself comfortable, knees bent and tucked around his legs, lowering yourself gently on his lap. Relaxing and glancing down at him as if waiting for him to say something snarky.

Stone's heartbeat immediately jumped into his throat. "Well... finally decided to have some fun huh?" He grinned, voice clearer without the balaclava covering his mouth, that mustache of his more apparent.

The blunt tumbled out of his hands in favor of grabbing your hips and pulling you forward, flush with his straining erection. "Ohh fuck," he groaned, fingertips tangling insistently into the fabric of your pants. Trying still to pull you closer, to make those delicious hips of yours move against his. To offer him even a shred of relief. A needy response that made you gasp in surprise above him.

"I'm gonna make sure you feel good love..." he began, eyes lingering on your chest and waist. You looked sexy sitting on his lap. His hands slid up and behind your back, practically ripping the gloves off his hands so that he could actually feel you. The things tossed to the side and long forgotten.

Stone's lips immediately skimmed over your collarbones, his warm sugar-laced breath daring to nip right to the point. "I'll fuck you right," he promised. His hands wandering down to the curve of your ass and gripping, the other racing up your shirt to follow the line of your spine eagerly. His calloused fingertips rough and knowing along your skin.

The weed and smoke in his veins both sang and screamed with divine ecstasy, the promise of pleasure lingering on the tip of his tongue... Before you braced both of your hands on his chest and pushed him back.

The moment Stone felt his back sink into the cushion of the chair, he was stunned, glancing up at your expression to try and decipher what he had done wrong-possibly gone too fast, too intense... fuck he couldn't help it.

You peered down at his half-masked face. The usually snarky man looking more like a kicked puppy at the moment. All reddened eyes and flushed pale skin, hands slowing down their path of greed and coming back to settle on your hips. Stubbornly unable to let go, even now. Especially now that you were finally here.

You leaned down some, close enough to his face that you could hear the soft sound of his panting. Those teasing hands of yours keeping a firm weight on his chest to stop him from moving so much.

And just when Stone figured you were about to bring him to an abrupt halt-

"I thought you wanted to take a break?" you suggested simply— leaving him to ponder what the hell you meant—before you began to roll your hips against his. "Just relax."

A grunt slipped freely from his lips then. Those blue eyes of his softly rolling to a close, gripping at your hips again, not daring to guide you but holding on; silently begging that you "Don't stop," he groaned under his breath, the thought tumbling carelessly out of his mouth before he could censor it.

He wasn't a man who begged. He teased, he played things off, he joked or challenged to get what he wanted... but that look in your eye. There was a flicker of heat and tenderness that appeared on your face that told him begging—telling you what he needed— was exactly what you wanted to hear.

His pride be damned.

Your hands smoothed over his chest and jacket, roaming over his shoulders as you ground your ass down against him. Gasping in time with his breathy pants. Below you, Stone's dick throbbed painfully, already hard as steel. Even with you above him, his hips still twitched up instinctively, rubbing directly against you through the fabric.

"Come on love," he groaned, softly shaking his head. The movement mixed with the smoke, made the world spin around him blissfully.

Stone shut his eyes again and let his head loll back against the cushioned armchair, hands holding on dearly to your hips.

He was a sight. His semi-masked face twisted in absolute pleasure. Mouth parted and panting, now uncaring of the grunts and heady groans that spilled from his lips. Stubbled jaw on display and heartbeat in his throat, flushed with a heat that crawled up his neck and beaded at his temple. A man utterly consumed by lust.

The motel room filled with the sounds of your shared breathing, the air tinged with the scent of melted cotton candy and smoke. The heat slowly becoming unbearable for both of you.

You lifted your hips up, climbing away from his lap.

The movement made Stone open his eyes again, head falling forward lazily to watch your thumbs hook into the waistband of your pants. His eyes immediately zeroed in on the sight, watching intensely as you bent forward, peeling the fabric down inch by inch to expose the supple swells of your thighs.

"Fuckkk baby," Stone's breath caught in his throat, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed; practically drooling over himself. His hazy eyes unable to tear themselves away. His cock throbbed in response, already leaking precum into his boxers and eager for what came next.

Just as you were kicking off the rest of your pants, Stone reached down for his belt. Fingers hardly touching the warm clasp of his zipper before your hands shot out to replace his.

"Stone, I said relax, let me do it," you added, already unbuttoning his cargos.

God, if he could marry you on the spot, now would be the time. But all words left his mouth, tongue stuffed with cotton and unable to say much, simply acting as a witness to what you were doing to him.

His breathing slowed, watching with rapt attention as you hooked your fingers into his waistband, peeling his boxers and pants down together over his thighs. Just low enough for his hard cock to spring free.

Stone hid nothing, never would. The tip of his cock was flushed and already smeared with glistening precum, eager and bobbing slightly upwards. Almost seven inches and trimmed, a bit.

He already knew not to move too much, not with you insisting you take care of him. It was enough to make a grown man weep.

He only spread his legs wider as you leaned forward, crawling back onto his lap and settling.

"Fuck," he mumbled, hands already finding your lifted hips again, digging softly into the bare flesh and squeezing greedily. Giving your hips a teasing shake, pressing a hand against your lower back to bring you forward. Close enough that your chests pressed together. "Sorry, love," he added, head vibrating with THC and anticipation. His cock throbbing as you gripped him gently, coaxing it forward until the blunt tip of it kissed your entrance.

Stone held on, thighs shaking acutely below you as he watched. Blue eyes cast downwards at the sight of your spread legs, so close to what he needed: to be balls deep inside.

He fought the instinctual urge to thrust up, keeping stock still as you finally, finally began to sink yourself down on him.

The soft gasp that left your lips matched his own strung-out grunt. The sound working out of his throat at the tight clasp of your body.

"Aw fuckkk, that's it," he sighed, panting and tense below you. His heart beat thrumming through his chest, down his spine, and making heat flood his painfully hard erection.

"Stone," you gasped, wiggling your hips at the initial stretch in a way that had him jolting, clinging to your shirt and hip.

"It's alright, love," he assured, groaning as you worked your hips up and down his sensitive tip. Taking inch after inch slowly until you were dripping down his shaft. The wet sounds filling the room with more than just the lingering smell of cotton candy. "Just take it, like that."

Soon, Stone could only pant and groan. Your body eagerly sinking all the way down to his balls.

"Fuck, shit," he could only swear under his breath as you rode him. All traces of the cocky brit washed away and melting his brain into complete mush. Only focused on the way you felt, your weight bouncing up and down on his cock rhythmically, unguided by him and taking what you wanted.

It was the hottest thing he'd ever seen. The fucking sexiest feeling he's ever felt. You squeezing down on him, unintentionally milking his cock and adding to the overflowing euphoria that he was already drowning in.

The searing heat around his cock was exquisite, a tight silken vice that had him seeing stars. Watching with broken pants as you bounced above him, hips grinding a sinful pattern as you took him over and over again. Sweat built at his temples, hot and feverish under his balaclava and making his hair stick to his forehead.

The sound of skin on skin filled his rushing ears, you haughty moans and whimpers bringing him to an embarrassingly fast climax.

"Shitttt," he groaned, head lolling back against the cushion of the love seat as his body tensed. The telltale tingle of pleasure building to a crux at the base of his spine, making his balls tighten.

Stone physically held on, hands drifting up and down your body ravenously. Squeezing and kneading your hips, your thighs, gripping like he was afraid to let go. Afraid to not feel you. Like you might melt away under his heated fingertips.

"Fuck- I can't- I'm gonna cum-!" He warned through gritted teeth.

You watched as Stone's face contorted, screwed up blissfully. His eyes shot open, fingers digging painfully into your bare thigh and hip, lifting you up in a split second and pulling out at the last second.

Stone didn't even have to stroke himself empty, his cock shooting ropes of cum onto his stomach, hips jerking up in time with each wave of orgasm that rolled over him. A long, drawn out curse rumbling like thunder from his lips. "Oh fuuuuckk!" he groaned, eyes rolling to an almost pained close. His toes curling in his boots as the pleasure shot through him like lightning.

He kept panting, entire body twitching and shuddering below you. A mess from head to toe, head swimming with insane pleasure and the buzz of weed, his body eventually slackening and relaxing like puddy.

His mind went completely blank, his body's attempt at savoring the feeling of his best orgasm in a while.

The last remnants of his orgasm drooled from his softening cock, dripping lazily onto his jacket. "Fuck... you're too good at that," Stone mumbled weakly, trying to laugh and only huffing exasperatedly.

He held you close still, hands stroking over your hips and running up your bare thighs, idly wondering how he could thank you and return the favor. His long forgotten blunt already snuffed out and burning a hole into the motel carpet.

[eyelambspider]

Omg I love stone. I love his dreamy eyes and voice. My gosh. ❤️

May please ask for a request 🙏

stone overheard fem reader over the phone with her mother. Fem reader tells her mother about stone. Fem reader is gushing over him. Like how strong he is, dreamy eyes, his voice, etc.

How would he feel?

(again, i'm so sorry for replying to this so late!) i too love his voice sm, this man is on the mind

Little 'Chit-Chat'? || Stone

┊pairing : stone x fem!reader ┊content warning : fluff, (un)established relationships ┊a/n : this is like a mix of hcs and a drabble lol

Stone isn't doing anything particularly interesting when he happens to walk by your door. His name a hushed whisper through the door:

"...Stone..."

His name stops him in his tracks, masked face turned towards the sound of your voice with a flicker of surprise that quickly morphs into curiosity.

You were talking about him?

About what?

He wouldn't hesitate to stand up against the wall, pretending to do something while he strained to listen to your conversation.

(Or just shamelessly presses his ear up to the door)

When he actually overhears what your saying: that you like the way his eyes look through his mask, the rough cocky voice of his, how much you've seen him lift on the field and the way he's built...

"Strong" was the word, wasn't it?

Under his mask he has the BIGGEST grin on his face, and an ego to match

Especially since you're telling all of this to your 'mummy' of all people.

"Telling your folks about me already, love?" he'll tease you.

Yup, once you're done with your little 'chit chat' on the phone Stone is there with his arms crossed over his chest, eyes lit with a mischievous glint

Stone already thinks a bit highly of himself, but to hear you admit that about him- it's just the cherry on top of it all!

(Whether your in a relationship or not) he'll tease you mercilessly about it

He thinks its cute, but won't explicitly tell you that. His form is... reminding you cheekily every moment that you find him 'irresistible' ♡

[eyelambspider]

Can I please ask for a request?

Harry stone hc. Plz?🥺

firstly, im gonna have to apologize for being so late to reply (ᵕ—ᴗ—) secondly, i have written them: behold

Harry Stone General Hcs

┊content warning : fluff, domestic fluff, smut/nsfw, mentions of smoking/drugs ┊a/n : a little bit of everything in here so-canon/hc, smut/fluff... ft. a voiceline clip i finally found smh

His birthday is May 6th, 1948.

So, he is a Taurus and around or older than 36 years!

likes doing crossword puzzles, like usually packs one of those small cheap crossword books you buy at the gas station. And its already crammed half-way full of the ones he's already solved

HUGE fan of rock and heavy metal

AC/DC, Metallica, and Mötley Crüe but goes to about every show he can, when he can

Is 100% shit wasted at a concert, always on the floor and in the mosh pits when he can be (or finds it hilarious to watch)

Smokes weed

(^^ completely based of his bo6 skin and completely perfect)

Always says what's on his mind (good or not). a very blatant man.

absolutely does what he wants and chooses his loyalties deeply

like despite seeming like well-how he is-if he believes in something or someone, he's going to commit to it with every fiber of his being

swears like a SAILOR. its literally second nature for him

i feel like he frequently plays videogames/is online (?) i.e. based on this voiceline in particular

Visit Original Link

at least definitely likes scrolling on his phone when he's bored

and probably knows more about media and the internet than people assume (god help us)

man canonically has a mustache

secretly finds it extremely attractive when someone has soft, thoughtful and soulful eyes

don't get me wrong, he can appreciate a person with a nice ass especially... but sometimes the way someone glances at him just right just- gets under his skin

likes to tease/piss people off when he can simply because he thinks its funny

he is pretty easy-going but definitely knows when to put his foot down and isn't afraid to be assertive

i feel like you can simultaneously know everything about this man and then nothing. he's an open book with his emotions or lack-there-of and yet, keeps so many goddamned secrets (and likes to keep it that way)

mask ain't coming off

don't think he'd actually have much scars or anything under his mask either. sure, enemies have tried to pull it off or target his balaclava and face before but none have been successful

is trained to fall asleep quickly and find rest when he can, but does not mean he's a heavy sleeper. he will wake up at the sound of a pin drop

is a horrible cook and doesn't try much outside of making some monstrosity for himself late at night

(nsfw) loves quickies and receiving blowjobs

loves seeing his partners face during sex and the sounds they make because of him.

is rough when he's really pent up (which is usually considering his job)

but also just needs days where he's laying in bed with his partner. time to relax and where he can take his time with their body, teasing and loving them until the world finally shuts out

[yunatheintrovert]

Harry Stone Childhood HCs | BOCW

In the aftermath of WW2, Stone grew up in a working class household in Yorkshire County. He likely was raised in Sheffield, the largest city in Yorkshire and one heavily affected by the bombings of WW2 due to the presence of steel factories there.

Both of his parents worked jobs. After returning from serving as a British Army soldier in WW2, his father worked at a steel factory in Sheffield while his mother was a worker at a chemical plant.

Because of this, he was often left to his own devices as a child for some time during the day. Sometimes family friends or extended family looked after him while giving him a loose leash.

While Stone grew up as a “city boy”, he enjoyed the occasional visit to a farm belonging to an extended family member in the Yorkshire countryside. He got to run wild there and explore. 

Due to having extended family members from both the city and the countryside, Stone was quite familiar with the Yorkshire dialect. 

Stone grew up eating quick, cheap meals as a child due to his parents both working jobs and not having much money. This led to often repetitive meals.

Specifically, Stone got tired of eating spam after having it so frequently during his childhood for school lunches and meals at home (dishes such as spam fritters, spam salad, spam yorkshire breakfast, etc). 

He definitely preferred fish and chips more. That was something he got to enjoy later in his childhood, likely during his early teens with the more available abundance of commodities and food in Britain and higher standard of living in the late 1950s and early 1960s.

Stone absolutely had beans on toast during his childhood.

Stone never had a dessert until he was 6 years old due to the rationing of food and sweets persisting in Britain until 1954.

Having been raised on food with not very strong or spicy flavors, Stone cannot handle spicy food whatsoever.

Stone was solid-milk lactose intolerant.

His schooldays were somewhat miserable for a good part of his childhood due to the British school program of making children drink milk. 

He had to drink milk (despite being solid milk lactose intolerant) after turning red during the one time he tried Indian food at an Indian restaurant.

Stone and the neighborhood kids played with undetonated bombs and warheads (left behind by the bombings of WW2) found in the area of the city.

Any explosions he heard in the distance sometimes were something he just chalked up to undetonated bombs and warheads going off. 

Stone definitely got into trouble (and also fights) in school during his childhood. It was common for him to be a frequent visitor to the office of the headteacher/headmaster to face corporal punishment like canings. 

Still, that didn’t deter him from getting into trouble. And it’s that same stubbornness and also experience with fighting dirty in brawls that has him pushing through the military and eventually joining the SAS later in life. 

A special thanks and shout-out to @zombie-nymph for working with me to come up with a lot of these headcanons about Stone's background! It's really interesting thinking about what Stone's childhood was like considering how he grew up in Post-WW2 Britain where things were still rough with rationing still being around and bombs still embedded in the ground along with the economy back then being what it was.