#Duties and Dreams

[bi-writes]

thinking about fucking your lieutenant without taking any of your clothes off. (18+)

let's get one thing straight--it's not that you don't want to take your clothes off. it's that ghost doesn't.

he hasn't gotten over it. you're not sure what it is, but you felt it when you tried to put your hands under his tact vest for the first time--the tension of his body, the flinch that had you pulling your hands back as if your touch had burned him. you drool over your lieutenant, you have fucked yourself to stupidity many nights just thinking about him, but you don't want to cross any lines.

you did the mature thing--you asked. you asked him what it would take. what he might let you do. what he might be comfortable with. he swallows, voice low and gravelly, and he tells you that you can do whatever you want with him, but he doesn't want to take anything off.

fuck it, you think. suit yourself.

you can't help the noises. you're throwing your hips back, hands braced against the bedframe as you straddle your commanding officer. ghost is underneath you, knees propped up and boots planted flat on the bed, and he has his gloved hands rooted to your hips as you fit yourself right over his middle and bounce. it's a lot of effort to get off this way. with the added layers of clothes, you really have to put your back into it to get any stimulation on your clit, but once you found that sweet spot, the tip of his cock nudged against you just right, you found the momentum to give it to him good.

"fuck--" ghost chokes. you're so hot. your shirt is bunched up a little around your waist, and the neckline has dropped, and he's watching your tits bounce with your grinding hips as you chase your orgasm. he could tell you were close. as soon as you dragged your clit over the fat tip of him and found it, you became a fiend. your pace picked up, and he squeezed your ass with appreciation, and he couldn't look away from your tits, but he was sure you were wetting his cargos even fully-clothed.

"'m gonna come," you whine, and ghost fits his hand between your ass and squeezes, appreciating the fat of you as you show him just how good you'd ride his cock. your hips are working so hard, smooth, quick grinds that make his eyes roll back in his head.

"yeah? tha' good, innit?"

"oh--gonna come, gonna come--"

"give it t'me--"

you're shaking. you drop your weight on him, seeing stars, and you're buzzing with a dopey smile as you slow your hips. you kiss him through the mask, sticking your tongue out and licking over where his lips are before kissing him nice and sloppy.

when he turns you over, you just watch as he lowers himself down your body. with wide eyes, you're enraptured by the way he shoves your legs apart. he gazes down at you, mesmerized to see a wet spot on your cargos, and he hums before hiking the mask up over his nose and licking over his teeth.

"w-wait, ghost, what are you--ah!"

you jerk when a fat glob of his spit hits the seam of your zipper. he does it again, soaking the fabric, and you can't do anything but throw your head back and whine as he opens his mouth wide and shoves his face between your thighs.

it's really not so scary anymore. and now he needs the real thing.

[sandythereadingcafe]

REVIEW

DUTIES AND DREAMS (Second Chance 3) by John A Heldt at The Reading Cafe:

'intriguing and captivating time travel'

[thereadingcafe]

[vampyrdolll]

Kate moss for Bella Freud /spring 1994 ♡

[wordstome]

“How did Price end up with three girls who aren’t triplets or twins?” This is how.

I think we’re done here.

[bluevelvet8]

it’s a joke, or is it?

[honeyhobbs]

idk how Soap can focus on the mission....

[wombywoo]

black tie ♛

[thekingofspin]

[captivatingcherub]

soft girl summer 🪽🫧🤍

[srfiv]

inspired by two-way mirror + ref

[kiryoutann]

i feel like this was wayyy too cute not to share now, so… sneak peek??? and i'm convinced simon is the most patient girl dad out there.

Walking over slowly so as not to scare her, he then asked, “What’s goin’ on ‘ere then?”

Gianna whipped around in a flash like a criminal caught in the act, her big brown eyes gleaming with a touch of guilt but not a trace of fear. "I dropped my cereal," she confessed succinctly, mirroring a trait she had unquestionably inherited from her father.

He crouched down next to her. “’Ere, let me help you with that,” then reached out, taking the paper towel from her tiny hands and started cleaning up.

Gianna just watched him until she finally spoke. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to make a mess.”

“’S alright, darlin’. Accidents ‘appen.” Simon stated, rising to his feet and tossing the used tissues into the trash can. He then turned his attention back to his daughter. “But you could’ve woke me up. I’d ‘ave helped you clean it up straight away.”

“I know, but you were sleeping. An’ mum says you sleep like a… like a… clog?”

At that, he couldn't help but chuckle. “I think you mean a log, love.” He corrected.

“Oh right!” The little girl exclaims, nodding her head. “Tha’s the word. You sleep like a log.”

“Yeah, alright, whatever yer mum says.” He glanced at the box of cereal still sitting on the kitchen counter, then decided to keep himself and his daughter away from it. “So cereal is no option then. What d’you want for breakfast instead?”

Without missing a beat, Gianna chirps, “Ice cream!”

Simon snorts, shaking his head. “Can’t ‘ave ice cream for breakfast, darlin’.”

Gianna tilts her head to the side, eyes looking up at him questioningly. "Why not?" she asked. “Mummy 'as coffee for breakfast, alllll the time!” she spreads her arms out for dramatic effect—he chuckles at that. Definitely got it from mommy.

“Yeah, don’t be like yer mum, alright?”

The girl frowns slightly. “But why not? Mummy’s pretty, an’ she cooks good food.”

Something he couldn’t disagree with. He nodded, reaching out to ruffle her blonde hair. “That she does, darlin’. But we still don’t want you havin’ coffee or ice cream for breakfast, alright?”

"Okay, then can we go to Uncle John's house?" she asked.

“An’ why’s that?”

Gianna bounced on her toes, her arms swinging. “I miss Buddy an’ Daisy!”

Simon groaned inwardly. Should’ve known she’d bring that up. Ever since that one time he brought her to Price’s place and she met his dogs, Gianna has been begging to go back. Every time after school—“Can we go to Uncle John’s house?” Every weekend—“Can we go to Uncle John’s house?” And the thing is, the bloody mutts aren’t even there anymore, not since Price and his missus divorced.

“The dogs ain't there anymore, love.” He watched her face fall.

"Why not?" she asked, eyes wide in confusion.

Simon shrugged. “Cause,” he trailed off, not really wanting to explain the whole messy divorce situation to a five-year-old. “Nevermind that. What d’you want for breakfast?”

Instead of answering, Gianna crossed her arms while frowning. “I don’t want breakfast. I want Buddy an’ Daisy!

A sigh escaped Simon as the results of his parenting bit him in the ass. Bloody hell, he had to stop surrendering to her big eyes and pouting lips—just like her mum. She had learned from the best, hadn’t she? Got him wrapped around her tiny finger. There was only one trick up his sleeve to get her to cooperate.

“If you don’t eat breakfast, then then we won’t be able to go an’ watch yer mum later.”

And sure enough, Gianna’s whole expression lit up, renewed. She gasped, hands flying up to cover her mouth in an exaggerated gesture. Seems like he got himself a drama queen.

“We’re gonna watch Mum?!” she asked, full of hope.

Simon nodded, trying to maintain a serious expression but always failing because of her antics. “As long as you behave an’ eat breakfast.”

The five-year-old was cheering, jumping, and doing her little dances in unbridled energy—just like her mum. He guessed it was true what Garrick said that day the lads visited the two of you at the hospital after Gianna was born—“She’s a perfect blend of the both of you.”

[kismetlotts]

Kinktober 🎃 day ten: Wet dreams!

cw: public sex, workplace sex, oral sex on John, masturbation, wet dreams, cumming in sleep, leaking, reader and John are total strangers

John Price that can’t get you out of his head. It doesn’t really make sense to him- he met you once during a meeting but something at the back of his head, glued you too his mind. Had him stressing about little things he never stresses about.

Did he pronounce that word properly? Was all the information he read out and presented in the meeting correct? Did you pick up on every stutter he made and every tremble of his voice? He was a mess at work, a mess at home, every thought and every minute taken up with your face. Eyes so wide, innocent and concentrated on him. He couldn’t even sleep properly since you’d infested into his brain.

Pretty and crouched underneath the desk, body wedged between his thick legs as he reads out the words written down on his paper. The thick lining of his formal blazer and tie making him overheat as your warm mouth trails all over his cock. Licking him clean, gagging on him, breathing on the tip until his eyes finally flicker down and meet yours. Watching as you suck and take him deeper down your throat, working him closer and closer to his release only for him to wake up in his bed, alarm blaring into the darkness of a 4am October morning.

It was pathetic, he wasn’t some horny teenager that was having wet dreams about one of his crushes. He was in his late thirties early forties- captain of a military unit, this was fucking ridiculous.

Each morning was the same, he’d wake up drenched in his own sweat, breathing heavily into his moist bedsheets; the air hot. Sometimes his hand managed to sneak into his pyjama bottoms, fisting his cock slowly leaving him with no choice but to continue. The angry red tip glossed with precum, so plump and desperate to feel your lips, to seek refuge in your soaking cunt.

Other times he’d wake up his orgasm already passed, everywhere all messy and cum covered as it leaked through his clothes and onto the bedding itself. Grunting in annoyance as he flings back the covers and heads to the toilet ready to clean himself up.

He didn’t even fucking know who you were- or why you’d foraged your way into his head. But you best believe the next time he sees you, he’ll be pulling you to the side- demanding you to come with him before having a long conversation in his office. A long conversation followed by a bit of whispering, a hand full of kissing and a fuck load of sex.

What else could John do to silence his thoughts- his fantasies? To silence his strengthening desperation and the sweet dreams he was having about you?

He was only human.

[vampyrdolll]

[dollette-whispers]

model off duty 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚

[viatamoarta]