lewis ford x buck! reader (overlord)
⁓1.5k words
fluff, longing, cursing, mentions of the military
italian translations under the fic!
set in my first and last universe, but can be read as a standalone! (i do suggest reading it tho, if you haven't already hehe)
getting favours in the military isn't easy, especially with the measly pay you get. luckily, however, you always had a knack for getting into people's soft spots, and commander hynes already likes you well enough. so while getting lewis' birthday off was a complicated affair, required some shuffling and shifting around, it worked out - and with the privates' help you even managed to keep it a secret from him.
"i gotta run drills in ten, buck, the fuck are you dragging me off for," lewis grunts, ever the sweetheart with his words, ever the polite one. you simply grin, shrug, link your pinky finger with his - he automatically softens at the action even if he'd never admit it - and tug him along further towards the exit of the base.
"no drills today, sergeant, it's your birthday. i bribed some people to get us the day off!" your cheery words hit his ears, but they don't register for a second until they do and his heart skips a beat. for a short moment, the commander's weirdly amused face from this morning pops into his mind. well, that makes sense now.
a soft whistle from you pulls lewis back to the present, as he looks down at your interlaced fingers, then to the back of your head.
god, if it wasn't for the war...
"you didn't have to, buck." you scoff as if you're offended by his suggestion. you kind of are.
"i wanted to, lew. now at least act happy that we finally get to go to that market in foggia you mentioned." he huffs out a laugh, one that makes you smile and one he sees once he catches up to you. your pinky falls from his and he would frown in disappointed if he didn't know that you'll inevitably do it again once you pass the exit of the base and the two privates standing guard.
"i said the name once when tommy mentioned it, and you immediately tore me a new one when i fucked up the pronounciation. how do you remember that, wasn't that like two months ago?"
"i always remember when you butcher italian, sergeant ford-" you salute to the guards when they stand to attention, lewis nods, they let you through, "-besides, i know your face. when tommy said he bought the juiciest peach he's ever had there your nose did the little scrunch thing it does when you're jealous and don't wanna show it." you don't tell him that you saw the almost invisible change in his expression because you were staring at his pretty side profile. don't have to, because you know he does the same when he thinks you aren't looking.
"remind me to pull some favours for your birthday as well, buck."
"oh you know i will."
the market is full, bustling with the townfolks and some soldiers here and there while the sun isn't too far up in the sky - the summer heat in the south of italy is too much, even for the people that live here, and siesta is a thing for a reason. even now, it's already warm, but neither you nor lewis care about the bit of dampness on your skin when your hands brush while walking next to each other.
"i don't think i trust the meat just out in the open like that."
"you don't trust anything, lew, shut up."
lewis' laugh is pretty when he isn't holding back. quiet, and rough, and close enough to a snort that anyone who doesn't know him as well as you do would think he's annoyed. you grin.
a slight breeze drifts through the path between the booths, the bodies, makes both of you relax in the already almost blistering sun, continue walking leisurely while looking through all of the market wares. fish, vegetables, meat.
when a fruit stand comes into view behind some aggressively haggling nonnas, you light up, pull lewis along by the wrist as you squeeze past people.
"oh these look good, hell yeah," you mutter to yourself, loud enough that he catches it, and he follows your line of sight to the plump, ripe looking peaches that fill a whole wooden box. lewis just hums in reply, because yeah, they do.
"special price, just 250 lire a piece for soldiers!" the broken english of the vendor almost makes you roll your eyes, you know the citizens here love seeing naive foreigners accept any prices because they're too ignorant to convert the currencies, of course he'll hike up the price to an abhorrent height.
"certo, e io sono il presidente degli stati uniti," you muse back, raise an eyebrow, fix the man with a dry smile. he has the decency to look at least a little ashamed, yet he still laughs.
"non puoi biasimarmi per averci almeno provato, bella. 100 lire è il minimo che posso offrire."
"50 per due, e per aver pensato che fossi uno stupido soldato."
lewis watches on, all too fascinated at how your lips move around the words as they spill from your tongue with an effortless speed that makes it even more impossible for him to understand them than usual. the vendor's disappointed sigh pulls his attention back to him, and he knows you just haggled the price down too far for his liking.
"80 per due. ultimo prezzo." the exasperation in his voice makes you grin, and you nod, counting the lire you had brought with you for the occasion and handing it over the low table.
"accordo." you carefully grab to peaches after giving them a test of smell and touch, and when you're happy, you give an all too friendly smile to the man before leaving.
you keep the fruits close to your chest as you lead lewis through the people, until you find an unoccupied bench and swiftly plop down before anyone else can. your sergeant settles down next to you with a low grunt, runs the back of his hand over his forehead to get rid of some sweat, wipes it on his uniform trousers.
"i could've-"
"no, you couldn't have paid, it's your birthday and i wanna treat you." you hand lewis his peach, and he mimics you when he lifts it to his nose to take in its sweet smell. it's just like tommy described, such a vivid scent, the fuzz is soft to the touch as well, and he can't wait to have a bite.
"try not to hit your uniform," you tease before leaning forward, closing your lips around the peach, and taking a big bite. he knows what you mean when the fruit juice drips down your chin almost immediately, and you muffle out a laugh as you chew and swallow. before you can move to wipe it away lewis' thumb is already there, brushing the droplets off your skin until they stick to his, and he lifts his hand to his mouth to lick it away.
he notices the way your eyes widen a bit in shyness before his own close at the taste. he knows why tommy was raving on and on about it now, when the proper sweetness fills his mouth as soon as he takes a bite, similar to yours, cautious to avoid his clothes when he has to swallow during so it doesn't happen to him as well.
"fuck, that's good," he breathes out once his mouth is empty again, and he doesn't take long before going in for more while you do the same.
silence falls over you two, knees brushing when he spreads them a bit wider to avoid another drop that made it past his lips with a low chuckle. you don't move your leg away, not when you reach the core of the peach, not when you thank the heavens as you throw it into the nearby trash can right after lewis does and don't miss.
all the people around you, still busy and arguing about prices and catching up on gossip in between haggling with the vendors, are in stark contrast to how relaxed you feel, with lewis by your side and his hand close enough to yours that you can feel his warmth seep over to you. his pretty blues are closed in bliss while he enjoys the sun on his face, glad enough he doesn't have to wear the bandage anymore on the cut around his eye.
you stare on for a little while more before copying him, shutting your eyes and tilting your head up towards the sky to soak up some of the morning rays.
"the whole day?"
lewis' raspy, familiar voice cuts through the chaos of sounds around you, and you hum, don't need to open your eyes to know that he cracked one halfway to look for your reply in his peripheral vision.
"yeah, we only gotta be back around 5." you can hear a bit of shuffling - he adjusted his shoulder slightly before leaning back again - before his arm brushes yours.
"then lets stay here for a while."
"certo, e io sono il presidente degli stati uniti."
"sure, and i'm the president of the united states."
"non puoi biasimarmi per averci almeno provato, bella. 100 lire è il minimo che posso offrire."
"can't blame me for trying, beautiful. 100 lire is the lowest i can go."
"50 per due, e per aver pensato che fossi uno stupido soldato."
"50 for two, and for having thought i'm just some stupid soldier."
"80 per due. ultimo prezzo"
"80 for two. last offer."
"accordo."
"deal."
author's note: fun fact! foggia was one of the areas the 82nd airborne was stationed in, and it's coincidentally like 2 hours away from the place my grandpa was born lol. anyways, happy birthday lewis! you deserve some soft longing and yearning in your troubled life <3 also, please don't convert the lire prices, i couldn't find any proper info on the conversion to dollar/euro and i know war fucked up all currencies lol
deputy anders x reader (we are what we are)
⁓0.6k words
classmates to lovers, cursing, fluff, mentions of cannibalism and almost dying
high school sweethearts don't last. usually. at least that's what pretty much everyone thinks, especially when you put someone that wants to be a deputy and someone that wants their own career into the mix - it's almost guaranteed that there will be almost no free time to have a good and healthy relationship and actually maintain it.
at least that's what pretty much everyone assumes.
anders always had the most comfy sweaters. that, and a very big, very soft spot for you, his crush of a few years, someone that he believed to be oblivious to his feelings. but he never let that stop him from offering you his hoodies and his hoodies only whenever you got cold during parties and get-togethers or plain old study "dates" (oh how he wished it was real dates instead). always reveling in the small smile that tugged on your lips when you put his hoodie on, felt his lingering warmth, smelled the aftershave and cologne that you were so used to even just as friends.
his feelings weren't as unrequited as anders may have thought, however, you just never wanted to risk your friendship over something as trivial as an innocent crush on the one person you trusted with all of your body and heart and mind. so the last platonic time he ever offered you his hoodie, both of you a little tipsy, and all out flushed when the fabric covered your body so cozily, you risked it. finally.
"i like you." you mumbled. "a lot." your fingers played with the hem of the sleeves, and when anders didn't recoil, rather just blinked at you in shock, you smiled up at him, looked at him as if he was your entire world- screw that. he was. (still is.)
"would you wanna go on a date with me? proper, not studying, of course. if you want to."
god, he melted. practically stammered, stumbled over his words to agree in his hurry, his desperation for you to know that he felt the same. the grin you gave him made the daze of alcohol feel like a mild breeze in comparison to the raging storm that didn't even reach the intensity of his admiration of you. of his love. he'd had a crush on you for so goddamn long that he could barely believe it, believe the fact that you wanted him, liked him, asked him out. and even when he never knew how to tell you besides letting you steal his clothes, it still worked out.
when the 10 year anniversary of your graduation comes up, a party reserved to celebrate the occasion, your old classmates don't expect you to still be together - high school sweethearts barely ever last, after all.
but you are still together when you show up, his arm around your waist, wedding bands on your fingers gleaming softly in the dim lights, and an old, worn out hoodie on his tall frame that everyone just knows will be yours by the end of the night.
no matter how difficult life got, you always stuck by his side. through moving to a small, rainy town in the catskills for his job, stressful weeks at the station, busy seasons at your office - and hell, almost dying during an especially fucked up investigation into some weird, cannibalistic family traditions.
you still stayed together.
and even if you've been a couple for so long, happily married, successful in your respective careers, you still get first dibs on his hoodies when you get cold. you still get to show each other off, as while you bask quietly in the envious stares of the others, anders gloats to everyone how you're the best wife he could've ever dreamed up.
lending you his hoodies really was the best decision that he's ever made.
author's note: based on these gifs because this was even earlier we are what we are and he looks so fucking cozy i just wanna bite his cute cheeks
john f walker x reader (thunderbolts)
⁓0.9k words
teammates to lovers, making out, sub! john, suggestive, cumming untouched
you don't really know how you ended up here. last thing you know you were doing recon on a mission val had sent you on alongside john, and now?
john is already a mess by the time you pull back, separate your lips from his with a wet smack. he struggles for a second to open his eyes, but when they do, your breath catches in your throat. glassy, dazed, unfocused - drunk on you and your taste from a simple, passionate kiss alone.
to have his beautiful blue eyes staring wide up at you from where he's sitting on his haunches, knees digging into the carpeted floor of the motel room you share, is nothing short of sinful. a moan slips from you at the view, and you can't help but beckon him in once more.
he moves his cheek into your hand, obedient like an attack dog trained to serve your every command.
and his reward?
tasting you again.
a rough "fuck" falls from his lips when they meet yours once more, already wet and swollen from the intensity of the last one. your tongues tangle, move together in a filthy dance for dominance that john doesn't even get close to winning, and he all out whimpers when you hook the tip of yours behind his teeth so you can pull him even closer than he already is.
"taste so good," you murmur into the kiss, let your fingertips follow an invisible path up from his clothed chest until they carefully, ever so softly wrap around the base of his throat. john's breath catches immediately. there's no real pressure behind your grip, but the simple gesture makes his mind reel at the possessiveness of it, at the control you have over him with barely any of your strength or effort.
the angle of you, sitting on the edge of the bed, and him leaning up into your touch and searching out the heat of your body-
you groan at the image, press your mouth to his again, again and again and again until you're both breathless and gasping for air and still not stopping. still not pulling back. calloused hands clamber over your thighs, wide spread around his broad shoulders, until they find their hold right where your waist creases, wrinkles softly as you sit above him.
god, he wishes he could touch you more freely, but his own thoughts can barely form anything coherent that's more than just "please" and "again". and the only sounds that make it past his lips when you graze your teeth over his bottom lip are the weakest, whiniest of moans and gasps. he's pathetic, and he loves it.
a needy whimper falls from him when you separate, but he honestly couldn't care about any embarassment anymore, way past the point of that. so when you use your free hand to brush his hair back, already messy from running your fingers through it, not as neat as it was during your mission anymore - far from it, even - and keep his head steady so you can bully your tongue past his spit-ridden lips again, he begs. pleads for you with little, pleasure-drunk noises that break in the back of his throat.
"yeah?" you mutter into the kiss, double your efforts when he tries to nod against your hold. at another whine, you shush him. "don't worry, baby, i got you."
you had noticed the movements of his hips, trying to get any sense of friction to his achingly hard dick, confined still in his suit pants as the situation escalated before either of you could get any clothes off. having john this weak, this desperate for you, kneeling for you, whining for you, makes your heart beat faster than any mission ever could've done.
"baby-" you interrupt him with another kiss, just as searing as the last, add some pressure to your hold on his throat until his breath stutters. the wet spot on his briefs, hidden from sight, spreads just a little bit more. it would be uncomfortable - if john could muster any ounce of strength to care about it right that moment. he can't.
especially not when you allow his tongue into your mouth. when your teeth graze the wet muscle. when you close your lips around it. when you hollow your cheeks slightly and suck.
the groan that escapes him, raspy and wild and a little frantic, is downright feral, travels through your body and makes your stomach clench. but what makes you moan right back is the way his fingers dig into your thighs, sure to bruise, unable to control his enhanced strength when-
oh, oh fuck. john's legs tremble, his body tenses up before melting into a puddle right at your feet. small, barely audible moans keep passing his lips involuntarily, his hips stutter, and you let your gaze wander down to his lap before ripping itself back up to his fucked out, absolutely ethereal expression.
he came. in his pants, like a fucking highschooler - just unashamed, uncaring, because shit, that felt too good to make him have any sense of embarassment about it.
when his eyes open, they're droopy, dazed, almost glossy with the pleasure still coursing through his body and letting it twitch in the aftershocks. his tongue still peeks from behind his parted lips, a bead of your saliva threatening to drip down his chin before he swallows it with a heavy bob of his throat.
"was i- hah, was i good?" his voice is just as wrecked as he looks. you nod, run your thumb over his adams apple.
"yeah, y'were a good boy." a dull thud sounds when you drop to your knees right in front of him, back pressed against the bedframe, trapped between the wood and the solid planes of john's body. with one hand on his jaw, you pull him close again, speak against his lips when he gladly complies.
ray waller x physical trainer! fem! reader (night swim)
⁓3k words
professionals to lovers, cursing, age gap (ray in his mid 40, reader in her late 20s), masturbation, smut, pool sex, unprotected p in v, multiple sclerosis centered physical therapy
after his diagnosis, ray has never been more glad that the small house he bought has a pool in the garden. eve and him have a solid 50/50 visitation schedule, izzie and elliot are with her for two weeks, the spend the next two at his place. and in case of flare ups and worse days eve can easily work from home so emergencies are also planned for and taken care of.
and now that he has the time - and the pool - his doctor advised him to start aquatic therapy in order to keep the symptoms at bay and reduce the deterioration multiple sclerosis comes along with.
even if those sessions are barely covered by his insurance, he still has enough savings to cover them and not have to blink at what goes missing from his bank account. since he's still on the better side, has mostly smaller symptoms that only sometimes impair him when they flare up, he asks for a higher energy fitness course, with appointments three times a week after consulting with his doctor.
ray just didn't expect his trainer to be so... tempting.
the first time you visit ray at his home, you're a little shy - he was a pretty well-known baseball player after all, and you totally didn't have a poster of him in your bedroom when you were just a tad younger. never thought you'd grow up and be assigned to him so you can help with his pain and mobility.
but when he just meets you at the gate, leaning on his cane with a wave and a crooked grin, you instantly relax. fall into easy banter with him, follow him onto his property where he shows you around, tells you his ex-wife has the kids for another week so you got the place to yourselves. he winks. you feel your face warm and pray that he doesn't notice. he does.
ray can't help but think about how pretty you are, especially when you take off your hoodie and join him in the lukewarm pool in just that tight, leave-nothing-to-the-imagination neoprene shirt and swimming shorts, bare legs on display as you gracefully glide into place in front of him.
soft-spoken but assured instructions guide him, explain the movements you're doing with him, and the sweet smiles you send him from time to time only makes his almost instant infatuation so much worse.
oh, he's in for it.
with every session, every time you come over, ray keeps getting more and more enamoured with you. yes, your training helps, makes him feel more at ease on the worse days, but his obsession with you grows every single time you visit him. you don't treat him like a sick person, or a former sports superstar, don't reduce him to his diagnosis - and he's beyond thankful for that.
still, it doesn't help.
that first appointment ended with a quick hug, slightly awkward but sweet. the second, your gentle hands had guided him through the motions of a move he didn't fully get and he had to stop himself from physically reacting to your touch. by the thirst session he has to avert his eyes when your shirt slips up a bit and reveals a sliver of your soft stomach, has to banish the thoughts of wanting to rip the neoprene off of you - then has to try and hide his visible erection when he steps out of the pool behind you, full and perfect view of your ass.
he buys a more loose pair of trunks for the next appointments. it helps somewhat.
during the eight session, when you swim past him in the water and nudge him into position with a firm hand on his stomach and a low laugh, he has to stay composed in front of his kids, lounging around the edge of the pool in interest since for the last two appointments they were with their respective friends. his hand brushes high up on your thigh in return, and you don't seem to mind, with that still so timid little smile of yours when you notice the touch.
you had just left his house, eve picked up the kids, and he is desperate to make it to his bedroom, the image of you still fresh in the forefront of his mind.
that fucking smile of yours. careful hands on his shoulders, slipping lower and down to his chest as you teach him a new exercise. not shying away when he holds onto your waist for balance. leaning into his touch.
rhythmic slaps echo through the room, hand fisted around his dick and almost blurring at how desperately fast he strokes himself. quick, frantic, grunting whenever his thumb catches on the ridge of the tip and head thrown back. his eyes are closed, brows furrowed, and the forming ache in his wrist goes ignored when he nears his climax.
his pace falter when the last appointment comes to his mind - the quiet gasp that fell from your perfect lips when you almost slipped on the tiles and he just barely managed to grab you. pull you into his chest. skin still damp, the tips of your hair wet, the smell of chlorine still emanating from you where you're pressed right against him. your wide eyes flicking to his, lips parted, palms laid out flat on his chest.
"fuck-"
ray falls apart with a groan of your name, loud and drawn out, his spend hitting his stomach and hand with messy splatters as he cums. his chest is heaving, calming down after that exertion, fingers still loosely wrapped around his softening dick as it twitches from time to time.
realisation hits him in a post-orgasm clarity - he just came to the thought of you. you, who's younger than him, and in a purely professional relationship with him as you simply do your job. and sure, he had caught himself fantasizing about you before, but never like this, to completion.
with a sigh, his eyes snap open, stare meeting the blank ceiling as his breathing evens out again. he barely has enough resolve to grab the shirt he usually wears to sleep, clean the cum off his hand and stomach, throw the top as close to the hamper as he can manage.
fucking hell, he just fucked his fist to the thought of you - and it felt too good not to do it again.
eve has the kids again, and even if you've come to love the two and their teasing banter with their dad you're glad - because if you're honest with yourself, having them around makes it much more difficult to keep your hands to yourself. professionally, of course. not because you let them hover for more time than necessary if it means you get to feel his soft skin and move your fingers over his freckles and moles.
purely professional.
by this point, ray greets you with an easy hug. one that lingers and dangerously edges into a less than platonic space and has you breathe out in relief when his body heat seeps into you and his musky smell hits your nose.
his hands brush a tad lower than usual, and you bite back a needy little whine when they rest on the swell of your ass. pray he didn't notice.
he did. grins almost indiscernibly. steels his face before pulling back.
"come on, sweetheart, pool should be a good temperature by now," he mutters, smiles at you, and you chuckle.
"thank god, i'm so glad you can regulate that. fucking hate winter," you muse back, revel in the laugh he replies with as he leads the way - even if you already know his space like it's your own. true to his words, the water steams in contrast to the almost freezing air that's making you rub your arms even as they're already covered by a thick sweater.
"had a client earlier that expected me to be fine with cold ass water and seriously asked me why my lips were blue. 'oh, i need to save money on electricity!' my ass. you drive a porsche and brag about your collection of exotic sculptures, whatever that means."
ray just laughs at your small rant, loving how comfortable you feel with him, loving how you feel like you can speak openly with him even with the good few years of difference between your ages.
"you want a coffee to warm up or something?" you shake your head.
"no, let's just get down to business if you're good with that. i got an unfinished book at home that's calling my name."
you can feel his blue eyes rake over your body when you tug off your bulky sweater, the neoprene shirt already underneath it in preparation and revealing your perfect body to him. goosebumps erupt on your skin, not only because of the cold, but because you had noticed his stares linger more over the last few sessions as well.
your sweatpants are next, and every inch of skin that gets revealed has ray hold onto his cane a little harder. he almost forgets that he has to strip down as well, follows your movements as quickly as he can until he's just in his swimming trunks and shivering almost immediately.
his doctor had warned him the cold and the heat would have him much more sensitive to the temperature, and he curses lowly over the fact that she was right.
"i'm gonna go ahead and get in, the cold is fucking with my old body," he chuckles, carefully walks down the steps until he can slide into the water, sighing in relief when the warmth envelops his body. you laugh in return, not far behind.
"old? you're still looking just as fit as in your baseball days, handsome." the words shouldn't ignite something in ray's body, and yet they do, shooting straight to his dick and making him give a barely controlled exhale.
"if you say so, sweetheart," he mutters lowly, just loud enough so the splashing of your body gliding into the pool doesn't completely muffle it. he had stopped just shy of the steps, so you come to a halt right in front of him, close enough he can still hear your almost inaudible moan at the pleasant temperature.
his dick twitches at the sound.
you stay submerged up to your chin until your body adjusts, and a strand of your hair falls into your face when a fresh gust of wind ruffles through the tresses. ray doesn't hesitate to brush it back into place and grins when your eyelids flutter at the careful touch as you lean into it subconsciously.
his hand doesn't fall back to his side.
"ray?" he hums.
"yeah, sweetheart?" with a faint huff, you stand to your full height, way too close to his broad chest to be coincidental. his big hand is still palming your cheek.
"i... want to try a different warm up." blue eyes flit down to your lips, watch on as your tongue slips out to wet the skin. he struggles to pull them back up to meet your shy gaze.
"what do you have in mind?" his palm slides down to cup the side of your neck, and this time, you don't hide the quiet mewl.
the tension between you could be cut with a butter knife, stare heated as you don't answer, silently beg for him to get what you mean as you wade even closer. a shuddering breath falling from your mouth shatters the last of ray's restraint, and before you can react, he surges forward, slots his lips against yours with a groan that resonates through your chest and has you whimper.
your breathy "fuck-" gets swallowed by him, and your arms come up to fully, finally wrap around his neck, pulling him further into you as you fight against his dominance and try to get the upper hand in the kiss.
you lose badly.
his hands slip down to rest on your ass, fingers digging into the plush fat of it and making you gasp, a chance ray uses to bully his tongue into your mouth. the swimming trunks he's wearing do little to hide his bulge, and you moan when you can feel it pressed against you, desperate to feel it bare. no fabric between your bodies.
"ray-" you whine, and he grins into the kiss, separates just enough to look into your dazed eyes.
"shh, baby, i got you."
the ache of the cold goes unnoticed when he hurriedly hooks his fingers into your shorts, drags them down so you can step out of them, kisses you once more and groans into your agape mouth when you do the same for him.
his lips move downwards, travel to your throat so he can graze his teeth over your pulse and hear you gasp around his name, grin into the skin when he lifts you up - ever so glad that gravity works differently in the water and he can easily hold you up. and as if he could read your mind, your immediate worry, he squashes it down with just a few lust-jumbled words.
"don't worry, i'm good." you nod in return, bare your throat even more for him, gasp when your back hits the side of the pool at the same time his tongue laps a thick, wet stripe up to your jaw. the taste of chlorine doesn't deter him in the slightest, rather just makes him groan when the situation sinks in. he finally, finally has you in his arms, can feel your bare core rest just above his twitching dick, barely even having to strain himself to keep you up all thanks to the water.
quietly, you moan, let out the prettiest little "please, need to feel you" that has him chuckle, move a hand down so he can line himself up and rub his tip through your folds. the nudge of it against your clit makes you keen weakly, almost too pathetic for your taste, but you can't care anymore when you finally got him where you wanted him, can finally feel him push into you ever so slowly.
"fuck, baby, so tight-" ray groans out, already breathing hard when your head falls back as he bottoms out. words are long gone from your mind, the feeling of his dick stretching you out ripping everything from your head but the way he's filling you just right.
his lips fall to your throat again, biting down a little too hard when your walls flutter around him and suck him even deeper, until you could swear he's rearranging your guts and nudging against places that shouldn't be possible.
"move, please," you breathe, your voice already broken and needy and closer to a whine than anything proper. and ray all too gladly complies with your request. with a low grunt, he pulls back out until only the tip of his dick remains seated in you before thrusting back in, burying his cock in the deepest parts of your body as it opens up for him. takes him in greedily.
he starts up a slow but deep pace, just the right amount of roughness to make you keen and whine for him every time skin meets skin, to make the water around your intertwined bodies ripple. when his arms grow tired, he wraps them around your waist which tilts it just ever so slightly upwards, changes the angle enough to make you see stars. your fingers drag his head up to face yours, tug on his hair until he groans, meets your lips with his own in a messy kiss as you grind your hips down to meet his every thrust.
"so good," you moan into his mouth, the praise caught on his tongue when it tangles with yours in a heated dance. ray soaks up your words and uses them as motivation to speed up until your back arches into his chest, no matter that your torso is still covered by the neoprene shirt. it would be too much of a hassle to take off right now, not like either of you care enough when you can feel the coil in you tighten and ray isn't far behind.
"gonna let me cum in you?" he groans, forehead falling against yours, and your fingers clamber to dig into the back of his neck. the sting of your nails dragging down the sensitive skin spurs him on even more.
"yeah," you breathe, "wanna feel you-" a deep roll of his hips interrupts you and makes your plea dissolve into a whimper. ray almost growls at the way your cunt flutters around his dick.
"not gonna last much longer, sweetheart," he confesses breathlessly, and you just nod, eyebrows arching as the pleasure in you peaks. with a strangled, long moan, you come undone, falling over the edge of your climax causing your walls to clamp down on his cock, massage it with quick spasms as you let out little gasps in the aftershocks.
"oh shit, baby, gonna-" ray cuts himself off with a soft moan, one that's followed by a curse of your name, and you can feel when he cums - filling you up with hot spurts of his spend, shooting right where he wants them to land. as deep as they can go, where you'll feel them for days, where they'll drip from your core whenever you clench around nothing.
or maybe you don't have any appointments in the next few days. maybe he can keep you stuffed, not clench around nothing but around him.
ray stays pressed against your body when you catch your breaths, small twitches of his dick making you hiccup out mewls and gasps that he revels in. once the gravity of the situation sets in, you laugh quietly, and he curses when that causes your cunt to flutter around him again.
"good warm up?" you sigh out, and he grins at you, eyes flickering over your blissed out face, over the faint marks he left on your throat, over your kiss-swollen lips.
"definitely repeatable." with a quick peck to your bottom lip, he tilts his head at you. almost hesitant at what he's about to ask. your soft smile encourages him, however.
"you wanna stay the night? i make a mean omelette."
you give him a crooked smirk.
"izzie and elliot approved?"
"absolutely."
"then i just might."
author's note: i totally love having a creative rut-
dbf! john f walker x fem! reader (thunderbolts)
⁓2.8k words
dad's best friend! john, age gap (reader in her early twenties, john in his 40s), cursing, smut, bit of degradation, unprotected p in v, creampie, semi-public sex, mentions of alcohol
john is an unfairly attractive man. 6'2, pretty blue eyes with that small, slightly darker spot underneath the pupils, messy blond hair and body all soft muscle from working on cars most of his adult life. in any other case, you'd love to give into your desire for him to just drop all inhibitions and fuck you stupid until you can barely remember anything but his name.
but he's your dad's best friend.
almost twice your age.
entirely off limits - at least to your dad. but maybe not to you. maybe not to john, either, considering just how often you catch him stare at you whenever he's over.
once a month, whenever the weather allows it, your dad hosts a barbecue - inviting most of his friends, some remaining family, always completing the guest list with his daughter and best friend from army times.
you know you always got a place to stay in your old childhood room, still decorated with some of your embarassing interests from a good few years back, before you moved out into your university dorm. books that you wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. posters that are only still on the walls for melancholy reasons.
so when your dad invites out for a grilling afternoon, one that usually always turns into late nights with lots of drinks and laughter, you're just glad your university is close enough to his home that travel isn't far, and that you can always take a shower there as well.
you're just stepping out of the bathroom, towel wrapped snugly around your otherwise naked body, when the front door slams shut and heavy footsteps make it through the living area.
"just me, sweetheart, your dad told me you're home."
you relax at hearing john's voice, having tensed up because you're by yourself as your dad was currently out at the grocery store to grab some last minute steak for the grill.
fuck.
any attempt to get more decent is futile when you just make it into your old bedroom when john comes up to greet you - you weren't able to make it to the last two meet-ups, classes were busy and exams were coming up so you were absolutely swamped with work. at least now you had a bit of room to breathe.
the "long time no see-" dies on his tongue when he looks up from his phone after texting your dad that he'd brought some beer, sees you, can't tear his eyes away. the water droplets running down your bare throat, over your collarbone, your chest, until the cotton of the towel soaks them up. god, he's been so careful not to let his desires surface, but you're making this a lot harder than it already was. and it wasn't even on purpose.
finally having john obviously ogle you like this, lips parted around confessions he could never let out into the open, could never let your dad hear, feels dangerously perfect. tempting.
you're very much tempted to give in.
you do.
"john?" you mumble softly, carefully, and his gaze finally snaps up to your eyes, away from the softness of your skin. away from the skin he'd be more than happy to mark as his, even if your dad would kill him. hell, it'd be worth it.
a low, shaky exhale falls from his lips when you pad a little closer, dropping your towel in the same motion, and he could swear the screen of his phone almost cracks with how tight his grip got. he can't, he really can't, shouldn't even think about it-
"take me?"
fuck, you want him killed.
and john wouldn't mind either, if it means he got to have you just this once.
he's on you in the blink of an eye, lips on yours in a kiss that's messy from the start, needy and desperate and filthy when you just moan and tug him closer. the denim of his jeans is rough against your thighs, phone long forgotten somewhere on the carpet behind your door. unlocked. wide open. neither of you care.
calloused hands, rough from years of manual labour, don't know where to stay, sliding from your still damp shoulders up into your hair, traveling back down over your sides until they can dig into the plush of your ass. you yelp, and he uses the chance to bully his tongue into your mouth.
"y'got no idea, baby-" john starts, groans when your fingers hook into the hem of his pants, "how fucking long i've needed you." with a shaky breath, you separate even if your entire body screams at you to stay as close as humanly possible.
"i do, trust me," you whine out, pull him backwards with you as you tip back and land on your mattress with a small bounce. he gladly follows, cages you in with a forearm on each side of your head, your legs hitched up his sides. "been praying you'd finally fuck me-" the words break and turn into a throaty moan when he rolls his hips down, pushing his bulge against your bare, glistening cunt.
"shh, baby, i got you," john mutters out, kissing down the side of your neck before leaning back up so he can tug off his flannel. any inch of skin revealed has your mouth water, the freckles on his shoulders, moles on his chest, all the tiny scars and the dogtags forever dangling from his neck. the light blond hairs on his chest, leading down in a trail over his soft belly until it disappears beneath the hem of his jeans, turning darker, more ginger the further your eyes follow. if he wasn't nudged between them, your thighs would clench together pathetically. he still notices, already working on the button and fly of his pants. grins.
"don't have much time," you pant, chest already heaving, and john chuckles lowly as he pushes his pants and briefs down just enough to free his dick from the restraints. it slaps against his belly with a quiet, wet sound, precum long leaking from the tip and leaving a small smear of it in the coarse hair on his stomach. your eyes widen at seeing the size of him, knowing he'll struggle to push in, but you don't care - the urge to feel him, for him to fill you up, is way too large for you to back down now.
john taps the inside of your thigh to get your attention back to his face, and the dazed look in your eyes makes him groan. with a fist around his cock, giving it a slow pump or two, he leans down, lines up until the flushed tip of it nudges against your clit. your quiet whimper is music to his ears.
"you covered?" you can't even form proper words in your anticipation, just nod, wrap your arms around his neck to pull him further down and into a kiss. just a needy "please, john-" makes it past your lips before he pushes in, gives a small thrust that has you keen at the stretch.
10, maybe 15 minutes until your dad is back home.
you wrap your legs behind his lower back, heels digging into his ass, and you lift your hips to pull him in further, force him more and more into your heat as he gladly follows your silent plead. a low curse falls from his lips, parted around a heavy exhale when he finally bottoms out and can feel you wrapped so snugly around his length after yearning to feel it for so long.
"john, move, please," you moan out, desperate to feel him, and john just grunts, gives an experimental roll of his hips that has you see stars. when you only whimper, dig your fingers into his shoulders, he continues, thrusts into you at an ever increasing speed as groans fall from somewhere deep in his chest, rumble through your brain and make any thought of getting caught fly from your mind.
john is absolutely, completely, fully lost in you. fuck, he usually lasts longer if it's just his fist and the thought of you, but actually having the real thing? bare, sobbing and needy underneath him, no condom in the way to dull any of the soft ridges your cunt engulfs him with. the desperation with which your fingers roam over his chest, down to his soft stomach, dig your nails in, pulls any insecurity away from him. if you love his body this much, shit, it's all the confidence boost he's ever needed.
"close!" you warn weakly, voice a little slurred over the pleasure coarsing through your entire body, the word pulling his mind back to the present. the backs of your thighs are sore from how hard his hips snap into them, the denim harsh and rough and unforgiving as he only doubles his efforts. one of his hands sneaks to the side of your neck, keeps your head still and facing his when his dark eyes meet your unfocused ones.
"gonna be good for me, baby? let me fill you up?" his voice is raspy, gravelly low and breathy from exertion, and you whine at his words.
"please, john, need you!" with your walls already fluttering around his dick, john moans, kisses you once more as he thrusts into you harsh enough to make the headboard meet the wall. a picture frame on your nightstand falls over - you don't notice. not when you arch your back so prettily, moan his name even as it's muffled by his lips, come undone and make every rut of his hips just that much smoother. filthier. louder.
"fuck, gonna make a mess of you. disgusting little thing, letting your dad's friend fuck you full," john barely gets out between thrusts, rambling now that he's close to falling over the edge as well. all your clenching got him so much closer to his own end, and your weak whimper encourages him to continue. "gonna make y'wear a skirt, baby, no panties, so you'll struggle to keep my cum in. so anyone can see how fucked up you are," he drawls, sweat-damp forehead falling to your shoulder when his pace falters.
a final whine, a small mewl from you, is all he needs to cum, and his hips twitch when his orgasm hits him full force. he stills for a second, a loud, drawn out groan of your name escaping him and making your core flutter once more, before he presses in again, again and again and again so he can fuck his spend as deep into you as possible. so you'll feel him drip for days to come. and you happily take all of him.
the only sound echoing through your room for a minute or two is your frenzied breathing, calming down slowly as you try to get it under control before your dad comes home and catches you. the thought has you bite back a tiny moan, one that john still hears, and you can feel his lips spread into a grin where they're pressed against the skin of your collarbone. after pushing a peck to it, he leans back just enough to meet your blissed out gaze.
"you alright, baby?" it takes a second for the question to register in your brain, but you nod, sigh softly as your hands come up to brush the damp hair back from his forehead.
"perfect. you?" his crooked nose nudges yours aside, lips meeting yours in an almost cautious kiss, so entirely different from the others you shared. you welcome the change. the "same" he mumbles against your tongue relaxes you further, but before you can get lost in the feeling and taste of him again he pulls back, your quiet, disapproving noise makes him smile down at you.
"gotta clean up before your dad comes home, baby, c'mon."
when he pulls out his softening dick, careful not to get you any more sore than you already will be, his eyes can't seem to rip away from the sight of your swollen cunt, wet with your combined releases, and when the first dribble of his cum tries to seep out of you, he grumbles. you yelp when he pushes two thick fingers back into you, doesn't mind when your nails dig into his wrist, instead focused on keeping you stuffed. plugged.
"you'll keep it in, right baby?" you nod with a quiet gasp when he hooks his fingers in deeper.
"i'll try."
john goes through the clothes you laid out for after your shower, dick tucked back into his briefs even if his jeans are still unzipped and deliciously showing off his bulge below his belly. instead of a skirt, he finds a sweet summer dress, short and flowy enough to tempt him throughout the afternoon. perfect.
you can hear a car coming up the driveway by the time you're dressed and standing on admittedly still weak legs, by the time john has his hair haphazardly brushed back and his flannel back on his torso and tucked into his pants. with nimble hands, you close his belt buckle, and he watches on with barely hidden admiration. maybe a bit of hunger as well. when you look up at him, gaze soft and a little unsure, he just smiles, kisses your temple reassuringly.
"we''ll talk later, baby. just know i'd love to call you mine properly," he mutters against the skin, and the breath of relief you let out gives him peace as well. you want him, too. you nod, peck his lips, and shoo him out of your room with a small chuckle so it's less suspicious when your dad walks into his home.
just the sight of your clenched thighs alone has john half hard again. you're sitting across from him, something he deliberately did when the other guests arrived just shortly after your dad, simply so he can watch on as you try to keep his cum from leaking out of you. and from how much you're adjusting your legs, you're failing. your eyes meet his with a small glare, but the smug, possessive little grin on his lips has you melt slightly.
"do we still have some beer?"
you almost forgot that there's other people on the porch, can only faintly remember when your stare keeps drifting over to john, even as your dad asks the question. you nod, the movement a little jagged, and smooth down the skirt of your dress before standing up. thighs pressed together.
"yeah. john, where did you put the crate?" your voice only subtly breaks on his name, and he grunts before following your already retreating form.
"i'll show you, sweetheart."
one more load. he'll fuck one more load of his cum into you, doesn't care if it'll only make hiding what he did to you, with you, more difficult. with his palm over your mouth, only two slightly ajar doors separating the two of you from the rest of the party, john keeps you quiet. luckily, the basement has thick cement walls, and the music coming from your dad's speakers is loud enough to mask any noise that still slips between his fingers.
his hips snap into yours, bottoming out with every urgent thrust as he keeps you upright and with your back pressed to his chest. your dress is barely hitched up enough, knees spread, hands pushing into the wall to keep yourself standing. god knows your legs are useless by now, if they weren't already before. every roll of his hips is accompanied by a wet squelch, threatening to push out the cum he already fucked back into you.
"two doors, baby," he groans lowly, "your dad could walk in on us every fucking second." you moan, muffled by his hand, but he can still feel you clench around him. "doesn't know i'm fucking his daughter full of my cum, doesn't know how much you're begging for me." he groans when your back arches, feels your cunt suck him even deeper when you come undone with a strangled whimper.
one, two, three more thrusts and he follows suit, falls over the edge with a low growl as the pleasure in him peaks. you'll struggle even more to keep all of it in, and he loves it. anticipates the sight.
john has barely pulled out, tucked himself back into his pants, and you're already dripping, and while you try to smooth down your dress and keep your legs from shaking he grabs the crate of beer you were originaly down here for with an infuriating nonchalance.
"go on, walk up the stairs for me baby," he muses, and you send him a weak glare, knowing fully well why he wants you to go first.
"fuck you," you mutter back, but follow his command dutifully, leaning onto the hand railing heavily so you don't stumble. john smirks.
"later, baby."
your dad will have to wait a bit longer for you to return back to the porch, and you already know john will be basking in the sight when you struggle to sit down on your sore thighs.
but hey, you promised you'll keep it in. so you will.
at least until john can feel it when he fucks another load into you.
author's note: happy age gap april i guess? this month will be more john than anything lol, keep your eyes out for a nice four parter with farmer! john :^) as always, i'm envisioning my dadbod john with this hihi, shameless plug
zook haythe x reader (22 jump street)
⁓1.2k words
friends to lovers, cursing, suggestive, making out, dry humping
why... exactly does your ice cream look the way it does? zook is curious, almost fully disregarding his own cone as he stares at you and the groove that goes right through the middle of whenever you lick at the scoops.
only when a cold drop of his blue moon ice cream melts onto his hand does he pay attention to something other than you - or rather, your tongue.
you know he's staring, and you have a hunch as to why you got those sky blue eyes focused on your lips. just to be sure, you lean further back into your sun lounger, fix him with a small grin before having another lap at the ice cream. it's almost down to the cone, and when you turn it to get the other side even as well, his eyebrows furrow upon seeing the groove again.
yeah. you know why.
"i have a tongue piercing."
your words rip zook from his slight trance, and he visibly shakes out his shoulders before squaring them up. when the fact registers in his brain and you stick out your tongue to show the piercing off, however, his thoughts drift very, very far away from finishing his ice cream.
"you- uhm, oh?" he wants to say something smart, retort with some little quip, but his brain is too scrambled with the images it supplies him with. all of them as far away from platonic as can be. and you're aware.
"yeah, got it a few months back when you were gone for that training camp. it got boring quickly when i didn't have my best friend with me," you muse, tilt your head, take a bite of the waffle. when some melted ice cream threatens to drip down to your chin, you quickly flick out your tongue to catch it - and this time, zook can see the hint of silver that peeks out.
fuck. you actually do have a fucking tongue piercing.
and before zook can hold back the question, one that no matter how comfortable you are with each other as friends might cross a boundary (not like he hadn't thought about you in a less innocent way before), it slips.
"what does it feel like?" you take the last bite, audibly crunching the waffle, and fix him with raised eyebrows and a slowly widening smile that has his breath hitch.
"what, making out?" zook nods dumbly. you laugh. and considering that his pupils are blown out, chest rising and falling a little faster than before, you take a small risk. he surely won't mind, will he?
"wanna find out?"
he must be dreaming. either this, or he died during that one tackle a few days ago during training and is in heaven. maybe he's in a coma and it tortures him by showing what the future could've held in store for him? zook shakes himself out of his stupor once more, swallows his last bite of ice cream and almost coughs when he realises he didn't chew it enough. his voice cracks slightly when he replies after an awkward few seconds.
"i- i mean i won't say no?" your grin deepens and you scooch back until you hit the backrest of the lounger, curl a finger and motion for him to crawl over to you. he gulps.
"come here, then."
"like, straddle you? or-" he yelps quietly when you sigh in exasperation and pull him closer by the collar of his shirt, and he barely catches himself before fully crashing into you. one palm by your head, one by your waist, noses almost close enough to brush. definitely close enough for him to exhale shakily when your hot breath brushes his lips.
"we've been friends for years, zook, we've seen each other naked-"
"on accident! i swear!" you laugh.
"-we'll be alright with some... demonstrations." he blinks down at you, reluctant still - if he starts kissing you now, he probably won't be able to stop - but he ultimately adjusts his position so he can straddle you more comfortably.
"you really sure?"
"very much so. are you?" zook nods, eyes slipping from yours to your lips.
"yeah." a small pause. "can i just-"
you roll your eyes playfully, and with a firm hand in the back of his neck, you pull him down and into a kiss. a gasp leaves him when your soft lips press against his, and you use the chance to tilt your head so you can deepen it. when zook finally catches himself and kisses back, a moan breaks in the back of your throat, lips moving against his almost lazily.
the moment you lick at his bottom lip for entrance, hook the tip of your tongue behind his front teeth to make him let out a guttural groan and tangle it with his, any and all thought that wasn't about you flies from his mind. the quiet clink of the metal ball against his teeth drives him almost mad with want, and he can't help but give into his desires.
"fuck," he mutters into the kiss, a curse you gladly swallow and respond to with a breathless chuckle, and zook lowers his body enough to meet your hip with his own, to tangle one hand in your hair so he can keep you as close as you already are. even closer.
"feel good?" your voice breaks when he huffs out a breath and dives in once more, nudges your nose aside with his so he can take the breath from your lungs, feel the piercing against his tongue again. it's way too addicting for him to stop at just one taste, so he needs more, takes more, doesn't care when your fingers brush through his hair and tug because it simply gets him closer.
drool gathers in the corner of your mouth, too preoccupied to swallow it down when zook keeps pushing his lips against yours in desperation, letting out unabashed and unfiltered sounds of pleasure that echo through the small garden - sounds that make your hips buck up because shit, he feels incredible on top of you, kissing you this messily and almost clumsily in his need for you. as if you're the only thing tethering him to this world.
hell, you might just be right this moment.
at that move, zook grinds down in reply, the obvious bulge in his shorts hitting your clothed core just right and making you moan loudly, albeit muffled by his lips. he uses the chance to slot his tongue against yours, laps at the metal decorating it, disregarding completely that his lungs are screaming to get air pushed into them. so when he finally does separate from you, a string of spit connects the tips of your tongues, breaks when he groans at the fucked out look in your eyes, staring up at him all droopy and satisfied.
you keep his stare are you try to get your breathing back in check, calm your frantic heartbeat that you're sure zook can almost hear. he isn't any better, even if he's the athletic one out of the two of you - but anything regarding you always had him a little short of breath. naturally, making out with you this desperately is much better than what he imagined it would be, and it only serves to make his heart skip another beat.
it's quiet for a few moments, until he tilts his head ever so slightly in question.
modern! lewis ford x reader (overlord)
⁓0.7k words
established relationship, fluff, sneaking around
lewis is too focused on his old notebook to notice your approach. checking notes, remarks he left after conversations with other soldiers, whatever bored little doodle he left while pretending to listen to whatever useless strategies his privates come up with that'll never see the light of day.
you give a quick turn to check if anyone's nearby, and when nobody is close enough to pay attention to your partner's makeshift office tent, you sneak in, close the flap behind you. finally, he looks up at you, a small smile slipping onto his lips when he realises it's you.
one that's reserved for only your eyes to see.
he lifts his head slightly to look up at you, still comfortably seated on his chair, but spreads his legs so you can step in between them as you always do. but instead of giving him a proper kiss-
-you peck his nose. just the tip of it, just a quick press of your lips that barely lingers enough for him to process it. lewis blinks. blinks again.
"sweethea-" another kiss, accompanied by a bright grin when your boyfriend furrows his eyes in confusion, scrunches up his nose, a sight that makes you wish you were chase and always had a camera with you because my god, that's cute.
"yeah?" you muse, tilt your head, and lift your arms to palm his cheeks, smush them together a little bit. "figured i could visit, i got a few minutes break before the next drill." one more kiss, and lewis can feel himself grow flustered at the unhidden fondness and amusement that shine in your eyes.
"my lips are right there, sweetheart?" while confused, he still cherishes your affection, always will - but why not a proper kiss?
"i just wanted to kiss that pretty nose of yours?" a huff escapes him, a mumbled "not that pretty", but one of your thumbs starts caressing that scar under his eye and he melts into your gentle touch. he puts his notebook to the side, wraps his arms around your thighs so he can pull you closer.
"anything wrong with my lips?"
"anything wrong with your nose?" lewis has to fight the blush that wants to creep up his neck, doesn't succeed when you chuckle, lean down once more and brush your lips against the little crook on the bridge of his nose, then its tip. you don't get far when he moves a hand up to the back of your neck, and before you can even try to stand up he pulls you down, into a kiss that's soft, one that portrays all the love he feels for you.
he can feel your smile before you even separate from him and roughs an "oh shut up" into your lips, the comment only serving to broaden it into a grin when you separate and see that he's still a little flustered.
"i didn't even say anything," you throw back at him, and the eyeroll he gives you is anything but annoyed - just a fake one, as if you could ever annoy him. you kiss his nose again, and he pouts, hesitantly lets you leave after unwrapping his arms from around you. "i gotta go back before anyone asks where i went, corporal."
"you can't stay longer?" lewis mumbles, unaware of the small pout that rests on his lips. "i could say i needed you for something." at the shake of your head, he frowns, and the sight makes you giggle softly.
"sorry, handsome, i promised tibbet i'd be his drill partner so he can yap to me. everyone else it way too annoyed to listen to him." his fingers twitch, hands half hovering above his thighs, as if he wants to pull you in close again.
he desperately does.
"rosenfield?"
"on extended order." a low curse falls from lewis' lips.
"i promise i'll come by after hours, i don't have any drills in the morning." the pleading look in his pretty, deep blue eyes is almost enough to make you laugh. soft affection like nose kisses always get him adorably clingy, and you don't mind in the slightest - matter of fact, that's exactly why you do it, knowing that it just means he'll hold you extra tight that night.
"one more kiss, sweetheart?" you step closer, lean in, evade his lips skillfully before planting yours on the tip of his nose once more. with a small cackle, you pull back, and wink at the corporal when he grunts in disappointment.
"i'll see you later, handsome."
lewis watches on as you slip back out of his tent, let the flap fall closed again behind you, with unbridled love in his stare and a small grin on his lips.
tease.
author's note: the urge.. after rewatching overlord once more....
ed burton x fem! reader (shimmer lake)
⁓2.4k words
established fwb, toxic behaviour, cursing, smut, restraints, bruises, masturbation, oral (m! receiving), dacryphilia, edging, slapping, sadism/masochism, unprotected p in v, mentions of cigarettes and alcohol
lots of toxic stuff, read at your own risk please.
you honestly don't even know anymore why you started this whole... arrangement with ed. he hated you, you hated him, so what if maybe you had more than just one quick drunk hook up over the years of knowing each other. maybe you were just used to the way he fucked you, let you stay the night if you were lucky or if your legs weren't working well enough to walk.
and maybe, just maybe- he just fucked you well and far out of the logic centre in your brain.
one second, you're slapping him for calling you a whore mid make-out session, the next, he has you on your back. the rapid change of position has you reeling, unable to process everything through the slightly alcohol induced haze you're in after sharing some beer with ed, unable to see when he quickly rips his belt from his jeans and takes your wrists in a tight, unforgiving grasp.
"ed-"
"you don't get to fucking slap me like that," he curses roughly, and you shiver when his eyes meet yours - dark, stormy, pissed.
"then why the fuck do you get to call me a whore?" you press back, wince when his fingers tighten around your arms. ed leans in, lips set in a snarl when his face stops a mere inch from yours.
"shut up, you brat. you don't get to do anything." you yelp quietly when he pushes your wrists up, right against the metal headboard of his bed, and uses his belt to tie your arms down until you tell him that it's too tight. he fastens it a little more. "should just get myself off and make you watch, shouldn't let you cum."
a small whine escapes you against your will, one that makes ed huff in amusement at the fact that you're still enjoying this to some extent. you're already straining against the belt, but it's tight, immovable, doesn't budge to your desire to touch him. push him off. pull him closer.
"you're a fucking asshole," you rough out, and your words make him grin smugly as he pushes off his pants, glad that you were already down to just your panties and bra and he was long since shirtless.
"don't give a shit, baby. you're still in my bed."
you hate that he's right. hate that he follows through on his threat and just shuffles to straddle your waist while you try to kick out your legs. his dick is already flushed, hard, the veins prominent when he wraps his fist around the base with a low grunt, when he starts up a first slow, then faster pace as he strokes himself. right there, right in front of you, the sight and his quiet sounds of pleasure making your core throb with need.
fuck, you need to feel him.
ed is full on fucking his fist, his free hand wrapping around parts of the headboard until his knuckles turn white while your wrists start to ache from the angle he's bound them in and from the harsh leather of his belt.
"ed, please, let me-" your hips buck up on their own accord, but ed's weight on you immobilises you too much. he chuckles. "just fuck me, please!" it's as if your voice is already more fucked out and desperate than you are, hoarse and wrecked, and it only fuels him more as he tightens his grip around his cock. ups his tempo once more. the fact that you're already whining, begging, whimpering for him after just a minute or two of not touching you brings his cold fucking heart to beat a little faster. the first few tears that slip from your pleading eyes make the corners of his lips tick up into a malicious grin.
"no matter how pretty you'll cry, i won't fuck you," he chuckles out darkly, groans when his hand catches on his tip, a little too dry to stroke smoothly, but he loves the ache.
"i'm sorry, i- i swear i won't do it again, and god you can do anything you want but please just fuck me-" you're begging, desperate to even just get any hole stuffed full of him, too hazy to realise how much power you just gave him.
his thrusts slow. wicked grin forming on his lips when he tilts his head.
"anything... huh?" you nod, quick and frantic, big and pretty tears rolling down your cheeks, and ed contemplates playfully even if he already knows what he wants to do.
"anything, i promise," you trail off, and with a grunt, ed adjusts his position once more, shuffling higher up until he's straddling your chest now, the angry red tip of his dick just shy of your mouth. one tap of it against your cheek, and your eyes widen.
"then open your mouth. i'll fuck you one hole at a fucking time." his voice is rough, all too smug and self-satisfied when he takes in your surprised expression. you're taking too long, and he slaps you hard enough to have your head whip to the side, your cheek sting. "open your fucking mouth." you do.
you don't get much time to adjust when ed rolls his hips forward and buries his dick halfway into your mouth, one hand in your hair as if you aren't already restrained enough. a next thrust, and you gag when his tip drags harshly against the back of your throat. ed scoffs, enjoying all of this a little too much.
"always wanted to shut your bratty mouth like this," he mutters, adjusts his knees, and your next whimper is even more muffled when he fucks deeper into you.
and shit, you feel fucking amazing.
without any shred of mercy, he starts fucking your face, your muted gags and whines barely making it past his girth and your wrists turning red and raw from how hard you're straining against his belt. your tears only make the slide that much easier.
finally, after a few minutes of this relentless assault on your throat, ed takes a bit of pity on you - you look, sound, feel absolutely pathetic. he leans back slightly, angles his free arm so he can blindly reach for your core, pull your panties to the side, and without warning, pushes two of his thick fingers into your heat. all the while he's using your throat as he pleases.
you moan so weakly and yet so desperately, and he groans in return when the sound sends vibrations through his dick. feeling how wet and tight you are around even just his fingers makes him bark out a low curse, pull back even if you cough and whine pathetically at the loss of his dick. but god, he needs to feel you wrapped around him fully.
with barely any time to complain, ed moves down, lines up urgently so he can bury himself into your cunt in one hard, punishing thrust. minimal preparation or not, you're wet enough to take him, pliant enough, and he knows you love the sting of the sudden stretch just as much as he does. not waiting for you to adjust to start up a frenzied pace, your pleas break in your throat, back arching up as much as it can. your wrists hurt, but you pay the pain no mind - not when you're sobbing from finally having ed's dick inside of you, finally being fucked in the way you were praying for.
ed knows the rough treatment already got you close to your climax, so when he notices your whimpers grow a little higher, feels your walls flutter around him - he stops. abruptly. ceases all movement and has you cry out in despair because fuck, you were so close, just needed a few more thrusts-
"apologise." you sob. swallowing your pride, the bit of salty precum he had left on your tongue, you try and grind up against his dick. but his fingers in your hair tug a little too harshly to still be pleasurable.
"i'm sorry, ed, fuck, i'm sorry. never should've slapped you!" the panic in your slurred voice is music to ed's ears. the sudden stop also had him gritting his teeth - he wants nothing more than to fuck you, but having you beg for him, tears in your eyes, hands still straining against the restraints even if the skin is almost rubbed raw is worth the edging.
maybe he can help a little, you've already taken so much from him. more than he thought you would. he loves it.
the second his fingers land on the belt buckle, he has to grin at the hopeful glint in your eyes.
"you wanna touch me?" the nod you give him would have you ashamed in any other scenario, just not right now. "gonna be a good girl?"
"i'll do everything you tell me." your voice is steadier than you thought it would be, but still anything but strong. you can barely bite back a relieved moan the moment he unwraps the belt, and his eyes soften ever so slightly when he sees just how close you were to breaking skin. leaning in, he presses a faint kiss to each of your wrists, before tugging your arms around his neck.
"then keep them on my shoulders. if they even move an inch, i'm stopping." you nod, just happy to finally be able to touch him, even if you have to dig your fingers into the skin of his shoulders to keep them from straying, moving across his body to the places you know he usually loves having them. your hands are shaking, your entire body is, and ed adores seeing you this pathetic, just for him, when you're a brat and a loudmouth to anyone else. just for him.
he finally starts rutting into you again, hard and ruthless and punishing, and he makes good on his threat - whenever your grip on him slackens and one of your hands accidentally slips, he stops with a clenched jaw and tense hips. a whine from you, then a weak apology, a promise that you'll do better you swear-
"attagirl," ed just roughs out, speeds up again, and with how close he is to his climax he knows fully well that even if your fingers lose their hold on him again he's not stopping anymore. he needs the release, needs that coiled pleasure in his body to snap after edging both of you for so long.
your body gives in right as he's on the edge, back arching, throat bared. you sob loudly, a pathetic jumble of a whimper and his nanme, and when he just grunts out a low, demanding "cum", you follow his command. a cry rips from your throat, echoes through his bedroom, surely alerts his neighbours - but neither of you care, not with how your body twitches at the intensity of your orgasm when you were denied so many times.
ed curses to himself at how tightly you clench around him, even tighter than usual. his thighs tremble when he cums, fills you up through frenzied thrusts that fuck his spend so deeply into you that you'll feel it drip for days. he just manages to choke down a whimper at how good it feels to finally cum.
exhausted, your highs ridden out, he collapses on top of you, lets you touch him wherever you want at that point - no matter that you can't, arms half buried in between your sweat-damp bodies. burying his face in your neck, ed tries to get his breathing back under control as you do the same.
once both of you finally come down enough to get your lungs full of air, he kisses your neck, leans up to kiss your lips even when they're still slightly parted and dry with how much you were moaning for him. finding one wrist, he wraps his hand around your forearm, brushes his thumb over the sore, thin skin. a lazy grin spreads on his lips when you whimper quietly, give a full body shudder at the almost painful sensation.
"learned your lesson?"
after a brief silence, you chuckle.
"maybe."
that's good enough for now, good enough for ed to push himself up and back as he pulls out, stands up even if his legs almost give out after that explosive high. he groans when his cum starts seeping out of your swollen cunt, and his gaze moves up to your sleepy, expecting gaze. he shakes his head.
"i still think you were too much of a brat to get me to clean you up, you'll manage on your own." with wide eyes, you pout, huff even when he rarely ever helps you out in the aftermath of fucking you full of his cum.
"i can't stand up, you dick!" you whine out, and ed has the audacity to laugh at you while he puts on fresh briefs, straight from the hamper.
"i know, it's what you get for thinking you can get away with everything," he throws over his shoulder as he walks to his bathroom so he can take a piss and clean your release of his softening dick. you scoff, because you still can't really feel your legs, but at least he's courteous enough to toss a towel towards you when he walks past to have a smoke and another beer on the balcony.
"asshole," you yell after him, and he just chuckles. you can hear the plop of a bottle being opened, then the sliding door, and a wave of fresh air hits your cooling body.
"and yet you were begging for me just minutes ago."
you have to fight to sit up, grab the towel, considering your fingers are still barely able to grasp onto anything. after haphazardly cleaning yourself off, you curl up - still naked, already half asleep by the time ed comes back to the bedroom, smelling of smoke and the cheap excuse of a beer he prefers.
he admires you for a second, for what you let him do to you, before joining you on the mattress, and you feel it dip under his weight as he wraps himself around you. his lips press to your neck, his own way of apologising for treating you this roughly.
"i'll help you shower in the morning you fucking brat." you grumble quietly at his words.
"wow, fucking thank you," you bite back, and the exhausted sass in your voice makes him slap the inside of your thigh. the sting makes you jolt, give a strangled noise of disapproval, but you still settle back into his warmth.
"shut up and sleep, you brat."
author's note: if criminal asshole... why perfect material for fwb? (i don't condone his actions but he looked delicious in the movie so-)
modern! lewis ford x staff sergeant! reader (overlord)
⁓0.7k words
power imbalance, suggestive, sub-ish! lewis, mentions of violence and sexual harassment
his knuckles are split, sore and still a little bloody, but lewis doesn't care. that corporal deserved it, trying to harass a newer recruit, and if he got reprimanded for knocking out someone of his own rank then so be it. he'll wear it proudly, considering his squad trusts him with their lives and he has the rough but kind reputation to match.
now, sitting in your office, he's not necessarily nervous. lewis knows you through a short conversation or two, knows that you're the quiet but authoritative staff sergeant that doesn't take shit from anyone. it doesn't exactly hurt that he thinks you're highly attractive, not only because of the intimidation radiating off of you, but also because you're exactly his type.
and as the highest ranking soldier at base currently, you're the one he gets sent to.
"corporal," comes from behind him when the door opens, softly but still with that hard edge that military personnel often have to their voice. he stands up straight, gives a salute, and watches subtly when you walk up to your desk and lean against it, arms crossed over your chest.
"at ease, ford. tell me what you did." once you motion for him to sit in the slightly creaky chair and he follows your silent order, he tilts his head at you.
"didn't you get told already, sergeant?" you shrug, sigh, take an experimental sip of the already cold coffee which makes you grimace and put the mug down again.
"i'd rather hear you tell me what happened. campbell likes to embellish things, i'm sure you're aware." lewis scoffs quietly, catches himself when he notices the small, dangerous glint in your eye at hearing the noise. he clears his throat.
"yeah, i'm aware." a quick exhale, and he averts his eyes to his knuckles. "campbell sexually harassed one of my privates, ortiz, and she came to me. i know campbell has family in the higher ups, so i knew nothing would come of a formal complaint, and i took matters into my own hands. knocked himm out with a few punches." your sigh cuts through the short silence that follows his admission, and his eyes flicker back up to yours.
"you're not sorry, are you?" the immediate "no, sergeant" he replies with has the corners of your lips tick up, and you notice his gaze avert to the motion, staying for an involuntary bit before coming back up. with a grunt, you push yourself off the desk, stride towards where he's still seated tensely.
"then consider this your warning," you mutter, come to a stop just inches away from his knees, and his legs part almost automatically when you take another, sure step between them. "two more and you'll have to think about stepping down a rank, corporal." you all but purr out the last word, and have to fight back a grin when his shoulders square up ever so slightly. his hand fidgets, desperately wanting to grab onto your thighs and pulling you in further.
"ma'am-" the word gets stuck in his chest when your hand comes up, taps against his chin, moves to cup his jaw and tilt his head up further until his throat is bared.
"it's sergeant, still, ford," you muse out, and a shuffle of fabric has you focus shift to where his fingers are digging into his uniform pants. all obedient, strictly placed, all perfect. "you understand me, corporal?" lewis has to swallow down his desire, and you watch his adam's apple bob slightly.
"yes, sergeant. it won't happen again." his voice comes out more raspy, more weak than he intends it to be, breathing a little more shallow than usual, and he has to grit his teeth when your leg brushes high up his inner thigh so he doesn't groan out loud. you feel the shift of muscles in his jaw and allow yourself to grin.
lewis' entire body sags from where it had tensed up when you suddenly step away, let your hand fall back to your side as you walk backwards to your desk to resume your original position. while he feels himself relax, he yearns to feel you this close again. closer.
"good. behave better, ford, next time i won't be this... soft." your small, all too devilish smile makes his breath catch before coming out in a shudder, and he nods, stands up when you dismiss him almost lazily.
"yes, sergeant. thank you."
both of you know that he'll be back soon enough.
and you're looking forward to it.
author's note: i have no idea how military ranks work, especially not for the states - since i'm german and a big military hater lol
bf's dad! john f walker x fem! reader (thunderbolts)
⁓3.1k words
boyfriend's dad! john, hurt/comfort, cursing, age gap (john in his late 30s, reader in her early 20s), height gap (reader is shorter), smut, unprotected p in v, multiple rounds, exhibition and size kink, mentions of cheating, teen pregnancy, abandonment, suggestive photos, excessive use of the words "sweet/pretty girl"
john was a young dad. he got his girl pregnant at 16 when she said she was covered, and after she had their son, liam, at 17 she dumped him on john and fucked off with the man she'd been cheating on him with. harsh feelings aside, he still cared for the little guy, dropped out so he could work and afford childcare and give him the best life he could.
of course he struggled, missing meals so he could buy formula, but once liam got older and john landed a better paying job, life got a lot easier, and it was a lot simpler to raise his son with the correct morals.
but apparently, liam rather followed in his mother's footsteps.
he knew his son didn't treat you the way you should be treated. hell, he knows he could treat you so much better, and he would if he had the chance - but you were taboo. his son's girlfriend. 15 years younger than him. his son's girlfriend.
but that flies from his mind the second you show up at his door, dried tears on your cheeks, the phone clutched in your hands still showing the way too naked image liam and your best friend had sent you.
"hey, honey, shh- slow down. what did he do?" you half groan, half sob, run your fingers through your already disheveled hair in exasperation before turning around so you can meet john's worried eyes.
"he fucking cheated on me. with my best friend, i- fuck!" you yell, hide your face behind your hands, apologise quietly. "sorry, didn't mean to be loud, i'm just so pissed..." when john curses lowly, then steps closer so he can pull you into a hug, your shoulders sag in exhaustion.
"i'm sorry sweet girl." your arms wrap around his middle, breath calming down a little, and he uses the chance to take in the strawberry shampoo you always put into your hair.
"told me i was the second choice," you scoff sadly, voice muffled by his shirt, and his arms tighten where they're snaked around your upper back, one hand at the back of your head.
"fuck, he's wrong honey. you're better than he ever was if he thinks cheating on you is okay." you lean back, look up at john, feel... conflicted when his hand in your hair never moves and he stays close enough you can barely smell anything other than his aftershave. you're aware that john is a good-looking man, always have been. respectful and kind too, even if he seemed much more rough around the edges to you when you started dating liam. the thoughts that invade your mind feel wrong.
"can i see what he wrote?" john asks, voice rumbling gently through his chest, hand moving down to caress your jaw. the touch ignites something only partially unwanted in you. one glance at your phone, and you hesitate.
"it's a picture. i don't... i don't think you want to see your son this way," you trail off, and he sighs, lets his arms drop. both of you can feel how disappointed the other is about the loss of warmth and comfort.
"please?"
how could you say no to a handsome, 6'2 man all but pouting at you?
when his eyes scan over the image once the screen is unlocked, his eyebrows furrow, lips almost set into a snarl. liam's hand in your best friend's hair, the watch john gifted him for his 21st birthday around his wrist, her eyes rolled back. bare bodies just cut off before the frame reaches her ass. the "she was always the first choice" that accompanies the photo.
the harsh curse that slips from john's lips makes a jolt shoot through you, land somewhere it shouldn't.
"fuck, you don't deserve this honey. you deserve someone that treats you right," he mutters, eyes dark when they meet yours with a mix of anger and something he's hesitant to let show - yet it still shines through.
hunger.
silence falls over the two of you, tense with unspoken emotions that he can see reflected back at him in your own gaze. moments pass until you slowly, reluctantly, tilt your head to the side.
"do you... have any idea how to get back at him?" john's next breath comes out in a shudder. should he really offer what he's thinking?
"you could send one back?" your heart skips a beat, eyes flickering to his lips when he licks them, fly back up when his posture changes and he stands up a little straighter. looms over you.
"with who?" you ask softly, timidly, even if you already know who you want it to be.
"me."
the headboard rocks against the wall with every thrust that john gives, bent over you, reveling in how his shadow covers you almost completely.
"fuck, look at you," he groans out, one hand running up your spine until it tangles in your hair and he can push your head even further into his already tear- and spit-soaked pillow. "so pretty for me, all fucked out, stuffed full of your boyfriend's dad-" he cuts himself off with a debauched groan, forehead falling to the back of your shoulder when the words settle in his brain.
john has already dragged one orgasm from you, and he's intent on at least another before he fills you up. sweat dampens his skin, hair sticking to his forehead, and your skin shimmers dimly as well in the low light of his bedside lamp.
your mind is completely and utterly empty besides the feeling of john, rutting into you as if he owns you - and if you're honest with yourself, he just might. you can barely remember what got you into this position, and you really don't care anymore.
"won't need any little boy anymore, sweet girl, shit- y'got me, i'll treat you right." he's rambling now, all too lost in how tight you are, how your legs are trembling, how he can already tell that your waist will have a hand-sized bruise once he's done with you. a rough moan escapes your long parted lips when john changes his angle just slightly, and you could swear he's rearranging your guts, hits deeper than anyone ever has before.
"john-" he groans at the weak whine of his name, pace faltering for just one thrust, "please, need to- ah, need to send a picture-" your voice breaks again. in between harsh ruts, he chuckles, but he's never heard anything prettier than your already fucked out voice pleading for his permission. john slows down just enough to reach for your phone, already on the nightstand, and puts it to where your fingers are fisted into the sheets.
"go on, pretty girl, make sure he won't show his face here again."
you clumsily take the picture, just enough of your faces showing that your boyfriend - ex - knows it's you, tear-streaked cheeks and actively being taken apart. his dad, bent over you and pulling your hair back. you've barely sent it off, no caption necessary, when john speeds up again, deepens his thrusts until your eyes roll back and you can't hold up your phone anymore, until it falls and bounces once, twice on the mattress.
the chat with liam is still on screen.
john's hand moves from your waist to dig underneath you, finds your clit with an almost practised ease that has you cry out for him.
"bet my son didn't fuck you like this, huh?" john snarls, almost driven feral with how your walls are already fluttering around his dick again as he drives it into you with a desperate need. the words that tumble from his lips, right into your ear, are depraved and disgusting, but to both of you, they're delicious - and all you need to come undone a second time, fall over the edge and into overstimulation.
the weak, whimpered "john" you barely manage to get out has his hips falter in their tempo, his dick twitch violently, and when you follow up your moan of his name with a "never, only you", he follows suit.
a groan breaks in the back of his throat, one that only fuels your high, when he presses in close and fills you up with hot ropes of his cum. the tip of his dick is nestled right where he wants it to be, deep and possessive and all but kissing your womb as his release makes his entire body shudder in pleasure.
the only sound in john's bedroom for a while is your shared, heavy breathing, trying to get air back into your lungs after that perfect exertion, until a quiet ding alerts you of a message. john perks up, grabs your phone, and the laugh he barks out makes you whine when his dick twitches, still buried inside of you. he leans further over your back to tilt the screen towards you, and the "is that my fucking dad??" that pops up makes you chuckle breathlessly, slightly muffled when your face is still halfway smushed into the pillow.
a small noise of protest falls from you when john leans back and his warmth leaves you, but he doesn't let you grumble for long when his hand in your hair moves to the front, to your throat, and he pulls you up alongside him until your back meets his chest again. you're upright, and the angle change makes you swear his dick reaches even deeper.
your eyes widen subtly when you realise he's still rock hard and pulsing with need.
"come on sweet girl, smile for me," he mumbles softly, breath tickling the shell of your ear, and only then do you see his raised arm, your phone in his hand and the camera app open. "i think he might need some more convincing." you smile weakly, one hand on his thick wrist, and the shutter sounds quietly when he taps the button. assuming he's done, you melt into his hold, lean back until you're pressed against his broad chest - but his teeth graze your ear, and you gasp.
"john-"
"don't have to send it if you don't wanna," he breathes, "i get if this was only to get back at him." your heart skips a small, uncertain beat at the barely hidden disappointment in his raspy tone.
"was it to you?"
john falls silent, hesitates to answer, but his thumb brushes softly over your throat.
"always thought you deserved someone better, pretty girl," he lets out after another while with a deep exhale, scared of your reply, staying vague so he doesn't make you uncomfortable. he doesn't need to be.
"and i always thought you were kind and... attractive," you hum back, and as if feeling his reluctance, you continue. "wouldn't mind the age gap if you wouldn't mind having me around." you loll your head back, trying to meet his gaze, and his hand moves from your throat to your jaw.
"are you really sure, honey? people would stare," john trails off, and you shake your head as best as you can when his grip tightens a little.
"i don't care, just... what about your son? he-" john can hear the hesitation in your tone and growls lowly, interrupts you before can feel any more shame.
"fuck him. he knows his mother cheated on me and knows that cheating is a hard no and a reason to disown him." he angles your face towards his by the jaw so he can kiss you, and you don't care about the strain it puts on your neck. instead, you gladly open your mouth for him, let him explore and bite and suck on the tip of your tongue until you're back to being a whimpering mess.
"if you want me, you got me sweet girl. all of me." he finally puts down your phone after sending off the photo with a smug, satisfied grin, with a glee that he shouldn't be feeling at just basically having lost his son. letting go of you, john carefully helps you lay down, follows you and cages you in underneath him. with a small, coy smile, you look down to his still flushed dick, and back up to his face, to the laugh lines at the sides of his eyes when he watches you fondly but with an unhidden lust.
"make me yours then, john," you breathe, and spread your legs wide to fit around his thick waist. a laugh falls from his lips, and he leans down onto his forearms so he can press a peck to your cheek before lining back up.
"as you wish."
the bath john runs for you is hot, just perfect to soothe your exhausted and sore body after a night of being stuffed full, over and over again until he's finally satisfied with his claim. any messages from your ex get ignored, even the "jesus christ you're fucked in the head" that your former best friend sends you doesn't bother you, when you're this beautifully blissed out.
he keeps you close, cradles you against his chest when you can feel your muscles relax as he runs his hands over your entire body. he's still a little in disbelief that you would actually like to be with him, let him scrub your body and wash your hair with his shampoo. but how could you not, if he spoils you like this after fucking you through countless orgasms?
"why would any woman have you and ever want anyone else?" you sigh out, and his hands still in their movements - he didn't know hearing those words would heal something small and distant in his heart, even more than having a pretty girl relax in his arms and trust him with her body. at his silence, you hum softly, nuzzle your face into where it's buried under his jaw.
"don't know, don't care. i got you now," he finally muses, voice softer than either of you are used to. "wanna have a first date later today? let me cook for you while you sit there all pretty and let me spoil you?" his hand brushes over the faint bruise already blooming on your side, and he grins almost boyishly at the shiver that runs through you. you adjust your position to raise your head and meet his gaze.
"that sounds amazing, handsome." his smirk softens at the petname, at the beat his heart skips.
"you're gonna have me wrapped around your little finger in no time, pretty girl," he huffs out, and you pout. something he really wants to kiss off your lips, so he does, until you're putty in his hold.
"don't i already?" the roll of his eyes makes you laugh brightly, but you melt into his palms when he brushes some wet strands of hair out of your face so he can kiss you.
"come on, honey, let's go to bed."
john happily helps you dry off, gets your hair untangled, and pushes one of his shirts over your head. for now, your panties will have to do, and he admires your body after putting on his own briefs.
"i'll drive you later to get a change of clothes, but for now, relax. because i really like seeing you in mine."
"hm, planning on keepng me here?" he shrugs.
"maybe, both because i wanna have you around and because i texted liam that he can pick up the stuff from his old room up tomorrow. want him to see what he fumbled," john teases which makes you slap his hairy, still slightly damp chest with a laugh.
"you're impossible."
"and yet you let me fuck you full, sweet girl."
liam is quiet as a mouse when he lets himself in with his spare key, tail tucked between his pathetic legs. when you come into view, still in his dad's old shirt, bare legs and neck marked faintly, his mouth opens as if he wants to say something - but as soon as john steps up behind you, turns you around and into a smug kiss, he quickly snaps his mouth shut again. he averts his eyes when john lifts you up onto the kitchen counter, steps between your legs when they automatically spread to accommodate him.
"i already packed most of your stuff, just lock the door behind you on the way out," john mutters into your lips, not taking his eyes off you for a single second, and the slamming of liam's old room makes him grin into the kiss. you giggle and lean into his touch, melt when his hand travels down to your core so he can thumb your panties to the side.
"you're really gonna fuck me while he's still in the house?" you gasp when he frees his dick from his sweats and lines up, tip nudging against your clit before sliding down to press into your hole shallowly. with a slow roll of his hips, he slips in, bottoms out until he's hip to hip. you try to muffle your moan, but as if reading your mind, his free hand tangles in your hair and pulls it back until your mouth parts around the sound.
"i want him to at least hear how you sound when someone actually treats you right." a first thrust has you keen, pant out a curse when he almost immediately finds your g-spot. he had lots of practise last night.
"won't be able to get myself off this counter-" you whine when he starts a quick, rough pace, has you scramble to hold onto his shoulders and a loud gasp of his name fall from your lips. a laugh rumbles through john's chest.
"remember, i told you to sit all pretty while i cook. even better if you're still dripping with me." john leans forward to press his mouth to your pulse, suck the skin between his lips, and when his arms wrap around your middle fully and he pulls you into his next thrust you let out a desperate whimper of his name.
"attagirl," he mutters into the marked skin, "let him hear how good i fuck you." the slaps of skin meeting skin echo through his home, your shared moans and groans and grunts tumbling from your lips and into wherever they land. if you could think properly, you'd almost be ashamed of the sounds you let out, but john is perfectly smug.
you don't even notice the front door close after liam weasels out, hiding his face and shielding his ears so he doesn't see or hear anything, too busy coming undone and soaking john's dick with your release.
but john does.
and he grins.
author's note: based on yet another @vividxpages ask lol. it may not be age gap april yet (and i won't do anything special... besides some more dbf! john probably) but take this as some dilf content in these trying times <3
lee shaw x fem! reader (monarch: legacy of monsters)
⁓1.9k words
coworkers to lovers, cursing, smut, unprotected p in v, marking, mentions of injuries, blood and alcohol (no consumption)
coming across mutos and titans, then having to escape them, always pumps adrenaline through your veins. billy and keiko had fucked off to do their own thing the day before, left you alone, and whatever they did had royally pissed off the critters that had driven you to take shelter in a small house you and lee had stumbled across.
at least the locks and windows held when the creatures tried to follow you in.
while the mutos were barely tall enough to reach your knees, they still were insanely annoying to deal with, to get rid of. both you and lee sustained some scratches from kicking and punching your way through, fending them off, until lee managed to push you into this hut and pressed himself against the door so it stayed shut until you barricaded yourselves in.
you have a few smaller scratches below your neck, by your collarbone, from when one of the mini-titans tried to latch onto your face and you luckily managed to divert its route before lee shot it off of you. he got left him with some scratches on his forearm, because even if small, they sure packed a punch.
so as soon as the crowd outside had dispersed, bored of fruitlessly scraping against the walls, and lee found a half empty bottle of liquor, he urges you to sit down so he can clean off the blood and use the alcohol to disinfect your wounds.
"why do they always get the fun part while we get stuck with cleaning up their bullshit," he mutters, and you laugh softly in reply.
"is it really that bad to get away from their constant cuddling and stay with me for a night?" lee glares at you, rolls his eyes, mumbles his answer when you just fix him with a playful grin.
"you know i like spending time with you."
you fall into relaxed, comfortable silence while lee concentrates on your chest, cleaning off the blood with gentle wipes of the rag he found and cautiously revealing the scratches the muto's claws had left in your skin. you're already glad enough that he let you clean his wounds first, considering he's usually way too stubborn to even show that he's injured, and the broken but dried bruise on his arms pulls slightly when he adjusts your top to reach the cuts better.
because you're looking up at the ceiling, head leaning back against the wall so lee has enough room to work and knees pushed together since his thighs bracket yours in order to be close, you don't see how much he struggles to stay composed. how much he fights to keep his eyes off your bared throat, the skin so pretty and smooth and just begging to be marked. bitten.
his breath comes out in a small shudder, and you hum, fix him even at the angle of your gaze, all droopy and tired eyes.
"need a break?" you tease even as you wince at a harsher dab of the fabric, and lee sighs. he can't give in, can't follow the desires that had built in his body and heart over the time of you working together and are all but ready to burst out.
"almost done," he huffs instead, busying himself with the small droplets of blood he missed so he doesn't pay attention to how he's basically straddling you. to how warm your body feels right in front of him. to how low cut your tank top is, even if he's wearing basically the same one.
"aww, wanna get away from me this quickly?"
lee's eyes snap up to yours, mischievous and matching the grin on your lips, and he breaks, comes close, almost nose to nose.
"don't fucking tease me like this, or-"
"or what?" you chuckle as if the sight of his stormy, dark eyes doesn't send jolts through your entire body, right to your core until it throbs.
you're quiet, he's quiet, his chest heaving as he musters you for any sense of reluctance. but you simply grin, take a step closer until your breath mixes with his.
"or what."
lee's restraint finally breaks, when he pulls you into a kiss that's desperate right from the start, needy and deep and all teeth. his tongue bullies its way into your mouth when you gasp, and your hands land on his soft stomach as you gladly reciprocate his kiss.
your top is gone quickly, pulled over your head with clumsy movements, and his follows suit once he pushes his suspenders down his shoulders. lee nudges you down onto the bed, still kissing you, only adjusting so he's properly straddling you on the creaky mattress, your legs around his middle after being pushed apart by his thick waist.
the second you bare your throat for him again, he moves to your jaw, your neck, teeth grazing over your pulse and making your back arch into his chest. he has you caged in beneath him, the tip of his nose nudging your head to the side so he can pull the skin of your throat between his lips and mark you as his, as he has wanted to for far too long. and even if you wanted this to be only one night, he's going to make damn sure that it'll be just as unforgettable for you as it is for him.
with one hand in your hair, he keeps your head still so he can nibble at your neck, move lower to where the scratches are so he can place a peck to the injuries and mark the skin right next to them with his teeth as well.
your hands are insatiable, running from his side, over his chest, landing up on his shoulder before tangling in his hair, tugging until he groans raspily at the delicious sting. his dogtags clink softly against your chest when lee leans in even more, nudges a broad thigh against your already fluttering core when he subconsciously grinds his hips down into yours.
you curse lowly, push him back so you can get air back into your system, and for a split second he's worried if he went too far, made the wrong call-
but your pupils are blown out, eyes dark and hungry, and you arch up so you can snap open your bra and pull it off your body. lee sits back on his haunches and helps you tug your pants off, dragging your panties right alongside them when you lift your hips to aid him.
his pants are next, belt unbuckled hurriedly and briefs bunched down just enough for him to line up with your cunt. lee halts, huffs out a sigh.
"need to prep you, baby-"
"don't care," you interrupt him urgently, hook a leg behind his back, push him closer until the tip of his already flushed dick presses right against your entrance. it sinks in ever so slightly with a shared moan from both of you.
with a few shallow thrusts, lee bottoms out, and the tightness of your pulsing walls around him punches the air out of his lungs.
you don't give either of you much time to adjust when you whine, buck your hips up, and lee shudders above you, trying desperately to keep enough restraint to not involuntarily hurt you. but you grab for him, beg him to fuck you, that you'll take whatever he wants to give you, and he groans. at a shaky first thrust, you moan, uncaring about the stretch still sure to make you feel sore come morning. your throat is bared once more, like an invitation to mark you up properly and not just with the faint hickeys he already left, and at realising that you're alright, he surges forward.
the pace he starts up is frantic from the start, too desperate to take things slow, especially when you meet his every grind and don't care when the zipper of his pants catches on your inner thigh, makes you yelp quietly into his mouth when he kisses you again.
he's all but rutting into you like an animal in heat, desperate and messy and frenzied when your heat engulfs him oh so perfectly.
"fuck, been wanting this for so long," he pants out into your mouth, lips parted and brushing against yours when neither of you can properly hold a kiss anymore.
"could've had me much sooner," you moan back, voice breaking when he changes the angle of his hips and the tip of his cock drags over your g-spot, and lee lets out a breathless, almost delirious laugh.
"right there?"
you nod quickly, fingers digging into his bare shoulders, and he already plans to wear only his tank top when you reunite with billy and keiko again - simply so he can show off the red crescents your nails are sure to leave. a hiss leaves him at the pain, and he drops his head to mouth at your neck once more, accidentally biting down a little too harshly when you clench around his dick and lock your ankles behind his lower back. it keeps him deep inside of you, no matter the fact that if he could have his way, he'd never pull out again, even if it restricts his movements.
neither of you care, too lost in the pleasure, and he adjusts his angle just enough to make your back arch almost painfully into his front until your chest meets his, the chain of his dogtags pulling taut between you at the pressure.
"close-" he warns you, and you whine softly when his hands rake through your hair, cage you in, pull your head back until he can pant into the bend of your throat.
"cum in me, lee, please!" you beg so pretty, so needy, that he can't help but falter in his pace. your words alone are enough to make the coil in him snap, almost violently and entirely too overwhelming.
lee comes undone with a rough groan of your name, and the feeling of his spend filling you up through frenzied thrusts, enough to push some of it back out and make your inner thighs glisten and stick to his, makes you follow suit. a weak "lee-" gets lost against the ceiling when his fingers tighten their grasp in your hair.
"fuck, fuck-" his forehead meets your collarbone, damp with sweat as even now he pushes through, rides out your high to make sure you feel as incredible as your body made him feel - no matter if it pushes him into a harsh overstimulation, has his thighs tremble in effort.
your hands, once on his chest, run up into his short locks to pull him up and into a kiss that conveys every single emotion you're feeling - lust, hunger, devotion. adoration. love. it's as much of a confession of feelings as you can muster right now, breath- and boneless underneath the man you'd been pining over for the past few months.
a low chuckle hits your ears when you properly come down from your climax, get the feeling back into your body, and you meet lee's warm, still dark eyes.
"go on a date? with me?" he asks softly, voice still raspy from his high as he comes down alongside you, can feel his dick soften inside your still fluttering heat. the feeling of your cum mixing with his, starting to seep out of your core, makes his heart skip a beat.
you smile, blissed out, and tilt your head as best as you can with him still holding it in place.
"gladly. stay like this?"
lee grins.
"gladly."
author's note: this is totally not my way of coping about ep 3
will x bartender! reader (prisoner)
⁓1.5k words
strangers to lovers, light hurt/comfort, fluff, cursing, height gap (reader is shorter), mentions of war, cheating, injuries, alcohol and cigarettes
will doesn't necessarily like going out to drink. but after coming home from war, all thanks to that last shoulder injury that got him out of service and back stateside, he finds himself needing to let go sometimes. so he drinks.
you're the bartender at the pub he frequents, close enough to his home so he can make the walk even when drunk, and far enough that he can sober up a little in the late night's air. and because your bar is cheap, dim, stale and sticky in the way only truly reliable bars can be, it's perfect for him.
you don't ask why he always fiddles with his chest pocket, don't ask when he sometimes gets the letter from his ex-girlfriend out and crumbles it just to straighten it again - it's her last letter, saying she'll always be faithful, only for will to return home and be greeted by a visible baby bump when he returned after over three years at war, for her to have the audacity to say it was a miracle. he used to be a man of faith, yes, but the horrors of war quickly washed that out of him; so of course he didn't believe her bullshit, packed his things, and left.
she got herself into this mess, she'll have to handle it herself. he's got enough trauma on his plate either way.
you stay quiet, only giving him small smiles that he barely reciprocates, sometimes joining him out for a smoke when the rush of the night dies down. usually lighting his cigarette, you stay by his side in comfortable silence. you've long since been aware that soldiers come to your pub a lot, so you learned not to pry, only listen when someone pours their heart out over a few pints of beer.
he's always polite, even if gruff, tips well, offers a low "thank you, sweetheart" when you set another drink down in front of him. naturally, you enjoy his presence, not one to talk much either, rather just being the quiet comfort space people often need.
and over time, you became just that perfect comfort for will as well.
"fuck," will curses lowly when he pats down his jacket, not finding the pack of cigarettes that he could've sworn he put into his coat pocket somewhere before leaving his apartment. not even the lighter can be found, as if his day wasn't already shitty enough.
he doesn't notice you come up from behind him until you carefully touch his side, a cigarette already between the fingers of your other hand. will flinches, but relaxes once he whips around and realises it's just you. with a small smile, you lift your hand to his face, and he keeps the eye contact when he leans in and takes the smoke between his dry lips.
it bobs slightly when he thanks you with a murmur, and you lift your own cigarette to your mouth before rummaging through your jeans pocket for your lighter. once you have it, you light first your own, then his cig with practiced ease.
at the first puff of smoke, you sigh, shoulder brushing against his when you allow yourself to stretch out your back, arch it until you can hear your spine crack and the beautiful pain makes you sigh out in relief. but even then the ache in your body doesn't fully subside, having stood upright and walked for too long already today.
another puff, and will notices the way you shiver at the night air, fresh and a little too cold for your uniform shirt.
one more puff, and he wordlessly opens the front of his coat, wide enough to count as an invitation to snuggle into his warmth. you follow it gladly. wrapping your free arm around his waist to keep your hand from freezing, you hum when his body heat seeps into your limbs as he covers whatever part of your back he can reach with the jacket.
almost hesitantly, as if giving him enough time to change his mind, you rest your cheek against his collar, face angled to the side so no ash gets onto the fabric when you take another drag of your cigarette.
not a single word is spoken when you melt into his gentle but tight hold, not even when both of you finish your smoke break and he silently takes both your and his stubs and flicks them towards the manhole cover in the street. both hit their mark.
you only turn your head to nuzzle your nose into the bend of his throat, making him give a light shudder at the feeling of the cold tip of it nudging against his bare skin.
a minute passes, maybe two, and you know you have to go back to work - but will is too warm, too comfortable for you to let go just yet. it seems as if he feels the exact same, his second arm coming up and around your shoulders to tug you even closer into his chest. you snake yours around his waist to join the other and bask in the moment. no judgement, no questions, no answers either.
with a small huff, a sigh, you finally manage to pull yourself away from him, fix him with a tired but genuine smile and nod your head towards the entry of the pub. he follows you in, the corners of his lips turned up just the tiniest bit.
maybe today isn't so shitty after all.
will is still there when you finish your shift, when you usher him out with droopy eyes and gentle hands. he watches on as you lock up the front door, bid the waitress on shift a good night and safe travel home, then fish around your jacket for the pack of cigarettes. once you have it, your exhausted fingers drop it, but will is quick to catch it even if the movement painfully pulls at his shoulder.
the doctor had said it might never properly heal.
"thank you, handsome," you mutter, grin weakly up at him, and he sneaks a cigarette out before handing the box back to you. you take it without complaint, offer him your lighter as you put a smoke between your lips and put the pack into your bag.
before you can even ask for your lighter, he chips it into your still open bag, then pulls you close - you're glad you had licked your lips just seconds before, because the gasp that escapes you would've had it fall as well. a large, calloused hand comes up to your jaw, cups it so will can tilt your head up, until the end of your cigarette bumps against the already burning end of his.
within a few seconds of tense silence, the flame transfers, and you take a deep drag before blowing it out of your nose so it doesn't hit his face. he wouldn't have minded it, but you're too polite. only then does he allow you to take a step back, and when you don't, he grins, lips stretching around the filter.
it stays quiet while you take little puffs of air, exhale smoke, and his hand rests heavily on your waist. this time, you take his cigarette alongside yours when you're done, stubbing both out in the ashtray by the pub door - and before you can even properly turn around, will is already tugging on your jacket to drag you close.
you can taste the smoke still on his lips when he kisses you, softly, carefully, but sure. certain. it mixes with the bitterness of the lager he had drank before you ushered him out when his tongue laps at the seam of your mouth, meets your own in languid strokes when you part your lips for him. the combined tastes have a small sound of contentment break in the back of your throat.
even with that sting of smoke and beer, you taste much sweeter than anything will has ever tasted before. there's a softness, a warmth, a fondness that envelops him as soon as you properly kiss him back, meet his lazy enthusiasm with your own and drag your hands up his chest so you can tangle your fingers in the hair in the back of his neck.
he was planning on going to the barber soon, but maybe he doesn't need to trim it in the near future if it always feels this good for you to tug on as you get lost in the kiss.
both of you are breathless when you finally pull back, your lungs screaming at you to get air back into them, the only reason you had to stop against your wishes. your swollen lips slowly contort into a smile, unhurried and easy and all too dangerous for will to not fall into the temptation for him to kiss you again.
but you separate all too quickly, hand on his chest to stop him from following you even if he tries.
"you got a girl?" you murmur, still close enough to feel his hot breath mingle with yours, and he shakes his head.
"cheated on me while i was gone. you got a man at home?" you chuckle.
"only if you want to come back there with me." a grin pulls at will's lips at your reply.
"good."
author's note: yes i watched the short and yes i'm a little obsessed with him. i mean, what else do you expect me to do with yet another tragic, compassionate soldier?
beer and smoke.
⁓1.5k words. strangers to lovers, light hurt/comfort, fluff, cursing, height gap, mentions of war, cheating, injuries, alcohol and cigarettes
