#Johnny's going to take the credit one way or another

[nightcity-scrapbook]

Entry 15: Get a look at this goofy ahh gonk thinking he's about to take the wheel. Move aside choom. Last time you got in a car you were skezzed-out and crashed. The audacity of this digi-ghost strikes again...

[gloomwitchwrites]

I absolutely love your stories they’re so amazing! Can I please request the task force and pranking them by telling them a guy did your Brazilian wax

Thank you! I can't take all the credit. I might be the writer, but the Imagines Series couldn't be what it is without all the amazing ideas people have submitted. I'm honestly blown away by the amount of creativity and ideas sent my way. My inbox is full of wonderful requests, and while it's going to take me a bit to get to them all, I'm eager to complete them!

The amount of prank requests I've been getting has been so fun. Not just this one, but telling mom to shut up, and the premium air prank, etc. All of these make me giggle and have been a blast to work on. Thank you so much for sending this in!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, established relationship, pranks, non-descriptive nudity

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

John briefly licks the pad of his thumb before counting out the appropriate amount of pound notes.

“This enough?” he asks, presenting it to you.

It’s more than enough. “Plenty. Thank you, John.”

He leans forward a bit, and you eagerly greet him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. Drawing back, you give him your best smile. But beneath the grin is a trick.

You want to mess with him a bit.

“I have a new waxer,” you shrug, adding the cash to your wallet. “Cheryl put in her notice.”

Cheryl did not put in her notice. That woman probably won’t retire until she dies.

John inclines his head, already turning away. “That’s too bad. You liked her.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, grabbing your purse. “They’ve put me with someone new. A Mark? Mike? No—Marcus? I think.”

John freezes. He slowly turns back, cheeks bright red. “What?”

“It starts with an ‘m’,” you muse.

“Your new waxer is a man?”

“Yes,” you shrug. “And?” John’s face resembles a beet. “Everything good?”

“Where does Cherly work now?”

“John—”

He grabs his phone from his pocket and starts tapping away at it. "I want to know if she accepts walk-ins."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle's hand slowly runs over your newly waxed skin. "Look at you. So soft and smooth." His touch makes you shiver.

"You paid for it," you murmur.

"I did," smiles Kyle, head dipping.

His tongue makes contact, and you release a moan. It’s slightly distracting, but not enough to detract from you poking at him.

“Had a new waxer,” you sigh as Kyle goes in for another taste.

“Did you?” he asks absently, more interested in your new smoothness.

“A man, actually. Undergoing training. There were two of them in the room.”

Kyle's head snaps up. "What?"

"Why'd you stop?" you whimper.

"There were two men that waxed you?"

“No, Kyle. Just one.”

A series of emotions pass over Kyle's face. His mouth opens. Closes. And then his hand forms a fist, fingers flexing and relaxing as he mulls over something.

"Everything okay?" you ask, suddenly worried.

“Can’t be that hard.” Kyle pushes away from the couch and reaches for his phone. “Or expensive.”

“What can’t? Kyle. What are you talking about?”

You lean forward and see him adding a waxing kit to his online shopping cart.

“No,” you say firmly. “You’re not putting hot wax anywhere near my vagina.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

"Oh, what's this?"

Johnny's hands are on your thighs and then beneath your skirt in a moment.

"Johnny!"

"Is this for me? You don't have to. You know I like a good adventure through the woods."

"Johnny!" you say again, slapping his arm playfully as his fingers lightly squeeze, making your squirm in his grasp.

"Was this on my dime?" he asks.

"Maybe."

"Oh, aye. Am I gonna find an unknown charge?"

"With a tip. A large tip. My waxer deserved it. He did a good job."

"Oh, they—he?"

"Yes. That a problem?"

Johnny's hands don't retreat but he's staring at you—hard. You arch an eyebrow and he finally speaks. "Your waxer is a man?"

No.

"Yes."

Johnny nods and then he leans in, lowering his voice. “You’re taking the piss.”

“I’m—”

“I saw your location. I checked it out. They don’t have a single male employee in that place.”

Your face grows hot.

Johnny’s hands squeeze a bit harder, and then he lands a brief smack against the curve of your ass. “Lying to me, love?” Johnny tsks. He palms the curve of your ass where it stings. “Suppose I should punish you.”

“Maybe you should.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

You reject the call and clutch your phone to your chest. You've messed up. Royally. Pranking Simon is always a terrible idea.

The texts were just a tease. Just a way to push Simon’s buttons.

I have a new waxer.

I thought it would be one of the other ladies.

But no!

It was a guy!

Your phone buzzes again and you nearly throw it across the room. It’s Simon. You decline the call. Everything is quiet for a few brief seconds before a text message from him comes through.

Answer your phone.

You click out a reply.

I'm in the car!

His reply comes instantly.

You're at home. I know your location.

Another incoming call. This one you answer.

"Simon,” you say flatly.

"What location did you go to?" he asks, voice rough with tension.

"Why?" you counter.

"What's his name?" he snaps.

"I know what you're doing, Simon.”

You always forget just how deep his possessive streak goes.

Silence. Then, "I just want to talk."

"Simon.”

He growls your name in warning.

"You don't need to go there. Just...come home. You can see the results for yourself."

He sighs. "I'll be there in ten. Be ready for me."

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[sigh-tofm]

if you’re their sugar baby… (18+)

… price

- absolutely spoils you. adores giving you anything you want. if your gaze lingers in a shop window, he’ll buy you whatever’s in it. you suspect he’s infiltrated your phone somehow, because anything you look at online will show up on your doorstep a few days later. he takes you to private jewellery fittings and sits back with a glass of whisky while the jewellers puts glimmering necklaces and earrings on you.

in return, he likes showing you off. regularly takes you out to restaurants so expensive they don’t even list their prices on the menu. spoon feeds you black caviar and picks out the correct wine, the bottles so old they still have wax seals on them. loves seeing you wearing the dresses he buys for you, revealing the fleshier parts of your body that the rest of society tells you to hide. always wants you to wear diamonds in your ears when you’re his date. nothing is ever too expensive if it’s for you.

takes you to a luxurious hotel after and fucks you good and well in the satin sheets. goes back to base before you wake up the morning after, and leaves a generous cash tip on the nightstand in addition to the monthly four digit payments transferred directly to your bank account.

… kyle

- takes care of you. a sergeant’s pay is low compared to a captain’s, but it’s still a substantial amount and much, much more than you make. enjoys having a pretty lady to spoil. any visit to the hairdresser or nail salon is on him. will occasionally request a specific colour for your nails, and you know it’s to match a dress he’s bought you, waiting for you at home.

takes you dancing, spends the whole night downtown and treats you to high-end street food at three in the morning. you get fancy cocktails and colourful shots and anything else you want to try. if another woman gets close to him on the dance floor, he makes a point out of feeling you up, splaying his hands over you wide hips and soft tummy.

takes you home to his and you both fall right to sleep, waking up past noon the day after. arranges a massage for you to help with your hangover. sits in on the appointment and flips your towel up to eat you out when the massage therapist leaves. reminds you to use the credit card he’s given you in between your orgasms.

… johnny

- whisks you away to scotland when he’s off duty. borrows the family cabin in the highlands and accommodates you both in the master bedroom, spending the cold nights in a grand bed with a heavy pelt covering the duvet. loves the fantasy of having a big, soft secret stowed away in the mountains.

spends the days hiking with you or takes you down to the coast, where you watch the wild waves and enjoy cottage pie in a local pub. asks for the finest whiskey, refusing anything but the best for you. tells you all about the history of the old stone kirk of the town over steaming mugs of spiked cider.

lays the pelt out on the floor before the great fireplace in the living room and grins when you mention the cliché of it all. remarks that clichés exist for a reason and pulls you close. your skin grows goosebumps in the cold air of the cabin, but the fireplace (and the rigorous activity on the pelt rug) warms you both up. lays with you after, smoothing his hand over your side and enjoying how your soft body gives way to the pressure of his fingers. pays for first class on your flight back home and gives you cash enough to cover both rent and supplies for the month. makes out with you messily at the airport before you part ways.

… simon

- takes you along to all his going ons outside of active duty. enjoys having a partner in crime, so to speak. in the military he’s a lone wolf, so when he’s off he just wants to have you for company. price thinks it’s a good idea for him too, to at least pretend he has some normalcy in his life. you oblige. he takes you to all his mundane errands; groceries, changing the tires of his car, walking the old bridle paths in his area.

has you tucked in under his arm when the footie’s on in the evening, trays of hot takeaway on the sofa table. if you can’t decide what you want to order, he has you list everything you’re interested in and orders it all. entertains your questions about football terminology and plays with your hair. pulls a blanket over you when you’re close to falling asleep and turns the volume down.

herds you to bed after a little while and so enjoys having a warm, soft body to put his arm around at night. to you, it’s all so casual and natural that you almost forget it’s an arrangement, but he never forgets to pay for your company according to your agreement and always tips generously.

doesn’t say it out loud, but likes it when you straddle him on the sofa and lets him feel you up and make out with you until he comes in his pants like a schoolboy.

[robo-writing]

Cockwarming with the MK1 boys

Kuai Liang

Cockwarming? Never heard of it.

You have to explain it before the visual clicks in his head, and it’s only then you see him nod in agreement.

Surprisingly receptive to the idea, it doesn’t take him much convincing. He enjoys the idea of close intimacy.

When would you like to start?

“Now? If you say so, little bird.”

There’s a peace that blooms in him, despite the salacious position you’re in. Hands rubbing into your bare back, nose buried into your neck as he inhales your scent, the hitch in your breath as you adjust yourself on his length.

It would be relaxing, if the feeling of your pussy wasn’t currently driving him up a wall. Everything is heightened this way, every breath making you clench against him, every movement making him shudder in bliss, a repetitive loop of sensations that keep the both of you trapped in each other’s embrace.

You move, he follows. You whimper, and he tastes the sounds on his tongue. You stay like that until you fall asleep, where he wakes up and the first thing he feels is the warmth of your cunt.

Bi-Han

Confusion is painted on his face when you tell him your idea.

Eyebrows raised, he didn’t know you to be the type to be so forward, surprised at just how eager you were.

“Hm, seems simple enough.”

At first he didn’t understand the appeal—if you wanted to have sex he could easily hold you hostage to the bed.

But fine, he would indulge you.

As it turned out you are far more creative than he gives you credit for. He might enjoy this newfound position more than he thought.

Every time you squirm, it’s another slap to your ass. The sound rings loudly in your ears, the clash of skin only dwarfed by your whimpering.

“Bi-Han, please—“ you beg, arms wrapped around his neck, scared to move anymore in fear of your husband’s wrath. “Just a little bit, I need more—“

Another hand comes down on your backside. You jump in response, then shiver when Bi-Han’s cold hands soothe the aching flesh.

“You decided the rules darling, no moving.”

You almost want to argue, but the look in his eyes freezes you in place. You’re forced to obey, shaking with anticipation for the moment Bi-Han finds you ready and fucks you like you need.

Tomas

“You want to what?”

Poor Tomas, his face turns a shade of red you’ve never seen before. He has to ask you to repeat yourself to make sure he heard you correctly.

When you do he becomes even more flustered, but it does spark a certain…curiosity.

He’s open to anything when it comes to you, and he would be a liar if he said otherwise.

As sweet as Tomas can be, it’s like he’s a different person when you’re like this—possessive, greedy even. He holds you by your ass and refuses to let go, kissing at your face when you shudder at the feeling of his cock inside you.

So big, so fucking full.

“Is this what you had in mind?” He grunts, barely stopping his hips from forcing you to bounce on his length. You can see it in his eyes, the barely-held back urge to dig his fingers into your skin and fuck you like he wants to, it’s only your pleas that keep him complacent for the time being.

You see shades of the sweet man you’ve come to love, almost overshadowed by the lust that pools in his very being. He wants to cum so bad, but more than that he wants to be good for you.

Johnny Cage

“You’re not kidding right? Please tell me it isn’t April.”

He’s over the moon, he’s actually thought about it before but was worried you wouldn’t be up for it.

But hearing you ask for it? You’ve given him far too much freedom, and you might regret that in the future.

Safe to say that it becomes his new favorite pastime.

Johnny was the one who invited you over in the first place, something about “needing to focus on his newest script.” A very obvious lie, but you suppose that hindsight is 20/20, especially where your boyfriend is concerned.

Instead of focusing on memorizing his lines, he instead memorizes what makes you tick, what buttons he has to press before you’ve become a writhing mess in his arms, how far you fall on his cock before your legs start shaking.

“Can’t help it baby,” he says, rutting into you softly. “You’re just feel too damn good.”

You almost want to beg him to fuck you, but you know him better than anyone—if Johnny says he’s going to keep you on his lap, he means it. So even if he’s barely focused on the script in his hands, you can be sure as hell you’re going to be sat on his cock until he’s had his fun.

Kenshi Takahashi

He laughs a bit, entertained at the thought.

You, sat pretty in his lap? It makes his heart beat faster.

He asks if you know what you’re getting yourself into, asking him a question like that, but your excited nod is enough of an answer for him.

“Okay then, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Kenshi feels the heat that spreads through your body, a benefit of losing his sight. He knows all your weak points, his heightened senses aware of every reaction you have to his touch.

He knows you better than you know yourself, even without sento he knows how desperate you are to move.

“This is what you wanted, right?”

He coos in your ear, tattooed hands rubbing circle against your shaking hips, a gentle squeeze reminding you to keep still. You nod in reply, but it doesn’t stop the soft noises leaving your lips.

Raiden

Turns into a shade of pink you didn’t know existed

Lost for words, it takes him a moment to register what you’ve said before responding

“Well, if you’re interested, I wouldn’t mind…”

Poor man, he doesn’t know how to express himself, but he is very on-board!

He tries his best, really he does, but how exactly is he supposed to stay still when you pulse around him so deliciously?

He knows he’s supposed to enjoy this, but being unable to move is driving him up a wall. You have to scold him like a child every time his hips try to move higher.

He stares at the ceiling, head tilted backwards in an attempt to calm down his racing heartbeat, afraid that even the sight of you will make him lose control. In, out, his breathing is labored, your voice doing nothing to quell his urges.

“Relax baby,” you say, running your fingers through his hair. “We still have the rest of the night.”

Kung Lao

You’ve never seen him smile that wide before.

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

If you didn’t ask him, he would’ve. He’s just glad you saved him the effort.

The moment you two walk into the bedroom he’s pawing at your pants. He’s impatient, and can you blame him?

“Kung Lao, calm down!”

You try to plead with your boyfriend, but it goes in one ear and out the other. What was meant to be a relaxing past time is now a struggle to keep his wandering hands to himself.

“Come on, don’t you want me to touch you?” He teases. His lips find their way to your nipple, lapping at the pebbled nub while his fingers slide between the two of you.

“This wasn’t the plan,” you whine in response, unknowingly pressing yourself into his greedy fingers. “I wanted us to enjoy this…”

“And we will,” he promises, circling your clit with a twinkle in his eye. “Just want you to feel as good as possible baby.”

Liu Kang

He’s heard of the act before, but never really gave it any thought.

“You sound like you’ve thought about this often, darling.”

He can’t help but tease you a bit, but he’s completely in agreement.

When he has a moment of free time he invites you to sit on his lap, grinning when his fingers dance across your skin.

For a god, Liu Kang sure can be a tease.

In his private quarters he keeps you close to him, one of the rare moments where he has no obligations and can simply enjoy himself. You thought this would be a perfect time to act on your little suggestion, and he thought the same.

Where you erred however, is misjudging a god’s patience.

Two hours ago you eagerly stripped for your husband, and in those two hours you’ve been left teetering on the edge, every time you close your eyes for a moments peace Liu Kang finds it fit to let his fingers remind you of where you are.

A repetitive cycle with no end in sight.

Your clit throbs with an incessant need, but you’re unable to do anything except take what he gives.

Syzoth

Beg your pardon?

You literally see his pupils dilate at the thought

“Really? Are you sure?”

He has his own misgivings about the idea, still ashamed of his ancestry as a Zaterran. It took him a while to become intimate with you but this…

You assure him that this is something you want, and he eventually agrees.

You gently coax Syzoth onto the bed, making your hips flush with his. You can see the doubt begin to flood his mind, until you drag his hands from the bed and onto your body.

“There’s no rush baby,” you murmur, resting your head on his chest. “Let’s just stay like this, hm?”

You hear his heartbeat return to its natural rhythm, his hands slowly brushing against your spine. Tentative, testing the waters, as if you’d shatter if he held you too tight. As the minutes pass he becomes more comfortable with your position, the feeling of your warmth enveloping him.

“I admit, there is something very peaceful about this…” he hums. You make a noise in agreement.

[lundenloves]

DAD SIMON AND THE 141 VISITING TO CHECK THE KID OUT FOR THE FIRST TIME PLAPSSLSLSPSLSLSK AND HE GETS SO JEALOUS WHEN OTHERS HOLD HIS SWEET BABY PATOOTIE PRINCesss

↳ no warnings | f!reader | 1.6k

dad!simon masterlist | taglist

Anon, I may have strayed from your original thoughts a little. I hold my hands up. At this point, he has been back and had time with her already this is just 141 meeting her. And it's very? Thought-provoking? Possibly not how you imagined? Alas, voila.

Having a newborn allowed for zero quiet. Nothing of the sort was even imagined, sleep was out the window and tiredness was the new trend. It became tougher when Simon had to go back to work, leaving you behind with a long apology and his credit card. What was the card for? You weren’t sure, but made sure it was used like fuck. £17.32 on McDonald’s delivery didn’t seem as painful with his money.

And that’s exactly what you were doing, happily. Baby sleeping on your almost bare chest with a haul of food around you in bed. It was only seven but you had no reason to be up and about, and the reality tv wasn’t going to catch up on itself.

In fact, you were about to reach the episode climax of Love Island. Someone had been mugged off and the producers were keen on making a drama of it, issuing a re-coupling. But. Right before you could skip the credits and fast-track to the next episode, the bedroom door swung open and you screamed. Waking your daughter who naturally began to cry.

"Fucking hell." You frowned at Simon who had quickly shut the door behind him upon seeing you. He wasn't due back till tomorrow. "Scared me.” The scold in your voice was one he ignored, picking up a milk-stained shirt from the floor.

“Put something on, christ.” His voice gruff as he shrugged his jacket off and reached for another t-shirt after wearily tossing the other back to the floor, holding it out. “What, Me?” Black-painted eyes narrowed at you upon holding his child out to him, asking for a trade.

“No. The other person in the room.” You deadpanned, widening your eyes in silent effort for him to take her. “Yes, you.” He did as told, looking down at his daughter blankly. “What’s the rush anyway.”

Although, your question was answered by a loud echo of laughs from downstairs. “All of them?” In reference to the only three men it could be.

“I didn’t agree.” He met your eyes, holding the baby back out to you for the brief second you passed him. Sauntering out to the hallway before he had called your name stiffly, eyes pleading relief of the absolute fucking threat that was his baby. “Take her.”

“You’re fine.” You waved a hand, walking downstairs with him reluctantly following.

It was a shame really, you couldn’t help but snort at the way he held her so high up his chest. “Don’t let Johnny hog her.” Was the only instruction you gave, wandering through to the kitchen where his unit were stood.

“Alright?” The Scot rubbed your shoulder in greeting, “Solid birth n’ all that?” His brows furrowed in genuine care although the question was worded oddly.

“Solid. Johnny.”

He tsked, clutching a hand to his opposite bicep. “Tends to be like that, ae.”

“Speaking from experience?”

He laughed although his eyes fell from yours to over your shoulder. Price held his hand on your back in acknowledgment, his eyes softening with a nod your way. “Christ.” He muttered at the sight in Simon’s arms, taking his hand back and removing his hat. “Congratulations.”

Gaz wrapped an arm around you, leaning his head atop of yours on his shoulder. “It’s mad.” He said more to himself than anyone else, catching eyes with Soap who for once was lost on what to say.

Simon’s eyes were stuck on the baby in his arms, refusing to look up and see the group reaction. Her small hand reached upward, and his finger met her halfway, face unchanged as she wrapped her hand around it. No one said or did anything, only Price who took a step forward to pat the lieutenant's shoulder. The moment was tender, and understood by everyone as such a thing even by Johnny who crossed his arms over his chest and contrastingly pout his bottom lip out to you. “You wanna hold her?” You spoke to him, crossing the space to Simon who had finally looked up. 

“Go on, then.” He pushed his jacket off, hanging it on the back of the kitchen chair. Simon’s eyes met Soap’s, a look of trust, threat and relief spread across his face when you had prompted him to hand her over. “Just a wee thing, ae?” He comfortably took her from Ghost, gently bouncing her and smiling when she had cooed.

“Tiny.” Gaz added, looking to Simon who shifted in his spot - looking around the room, finding comfort in anything other than the tiny being. He was still so unsure of himself. Arms crossed together over his chest in anxious replacement of the tac vest he would usually slot his thumbs into. “Fresh to the world.” 

“Five weeks old.” You looked at Gaz. “Brand. New.”

He shook his head at the idea of a baby, looking to Price who was subtly enough fixated on his lieutenant. “How’re you doing, Simon?” He asked firmly, in a tone Simon wouldn’t ignore or sigh at, one he recognised as important. A tone of order.

“Fine.” He kept it brief, locking eyes with Price who nodded slowly. 

It was hard to read Simon. Period. Even after years being with him, you still couldn’t predict the way he was feeling or what he was going to say about a situation. He distanced himself from his daughter the first few days, intentionally waiting until you woke to sort her out instead of facing himself and his past in the form of the harmless baby.

His allowed paternity leave wasn’t granted extension of more than a week, therefore he left you. And admittedly, although he wouldn’t ever say it, he was glad to get some time away. It had only been a week and he was already itching to be alone, no words you spoke could comfort him. Only the mindless living of a deployment. His desired remedy. 

Ghost was dead silent that whole mission. The unit knew why, although they were tightly instructed by Price to keep their mouths shut. Not to even ask about the kid. So they didn’t, not until today, when it was brought up by the man himself. “Ask about the kid, then.” He said gruffly, unlacing his boots and stomping his feet wide of each other, eyes darting between the three men opposite him.

“She alright, yeah?” Soap asked, receiving a dull nod. 

“We’d love to meet her sometime.” Price continued cautiously, looking to Simon who then nodded, eyes dropping to his boots. There was a moment of silence before he had spoken up in answer to Price, elbows rest on his knees, hands clasped together and rubbing against his mouth. “You don’t live too far from base do you?”

“An hour.” He cleared his throat, “I live an hour away.” 

“We could stop by,” Price was the one to suggest it, dipping to reach a bag behind Soap’s drawer. “This is, from, us.” He rubbed the back of his neck, holding the small gift bag out to Ghost who only looked up at it. 

“I’m going home tonight.” He said matter of factly. “Just.” A sigh. “Tail me and hand it in to her, she’ll appreciate it better than I will.” Soap smirked at Simon’s falsified reluctance, a hidden invite into his lieutenant's domestic life was on the table and of course he jumped at it. 

And you? You knew Simon had given a skeleton of an invite. It was obvious. 

So now, as your daughter had been passed to Price from Gaz, it felt oddly comforting to you. For Simon, you couldn’t tell as much from the way he was constantly sighing and moving in his spot - obviously discomforted by the idea of his unit being in such an intimate space of his but it was blown over by the end of the short visit. “She’s going to be tall.” Price tilted his head at the baby, thumb swiping across her small arm.

“Oh aye.” Johnny nodded, nudging Simon who stared down at her. “Think she’ll have your eyes?” His efforts granted a shrug from the man next to him.

“The colour keeps changing, but,” You caressed her head in Price’s arms, “They are his shape.” The tone of your voice warming Simon enough for the thought of a smile, the side of his lip curling just enough. 

Gaz nodded to a bag Soap had left on the counter, “There’s some stuff. We didn’t get much time.” He reached for it, holding it out to you. The purpose of the trip.

“And there’s a card with some money.” Johnny added, “See yous’ round the New Year for the wee yin.” The bag had generic baby gifts inside, although it swelled your heart to think of three large military men shopping around for each thing inside

And the card was a treasure in itself, one you would certainly keep, handing it to Simon so you could hug Gaz and Soap, receiving a kiss to your cheek from Price after taking the baby back. “Maybe see you lot closer to Christmas?” You asked, bouncing your daughter when she had begun to stir.

“Course.” Price nodded to Simon, following the other two out the door. You heard them talking about the baby from the threshold, watching as they piled into their respective cars and pulled off with waves and a single salute from Soap. Because, Soap.

Simon sighed once the door was shut, looking down at you. There was something between warmth and sympathy in his eyes, wrapping an arm around the back of your neck and kissing your temple. “You putting this up?” He mumbled, holding out the card before pressing his thumb and pointer finger together against his daughter’s tiny feet in sudden affection. 

“On the mantel for now, probably.” You rubbed his arm, following him through to the living room. 

There was new lightheartedness around him after they had left. Like having his unit meeting his daughter was somehow a weight that had finally been shrugged off after the fact. Even prodding a few more kisses than you would usually receive from him. His brain worked in mysterious ways, although you were not complaining. 

Not now anyway.

simon 'ghost' riley taglist: @vamppxncess @freakonfilm @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @abbugadu @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkjoequinn @gressseyy

[vampirzina]

Hello! May I pretty please request mk1 characters with a reader who is really tired and it's having some complications on her like having a harder time breathing or being dead tired?

tw: gn pronouns, sfw, mdni, alphabetical order, short hcs, illness and sleep disorders, injury

notes: anon! i hope you and anyone who feels like this get well if this has anything to do with what’s going on offscreen. i also didn’t know if you wanted specific characters or not so i did the entire roster. also apologize if it’s a little ooc. take care x

masterlist : divider credit

Ashrah paused her path to redemption to check on you. She’d ask you when you first shown signs if you were okay, but when you brushed her off she had no choice but to leave it be. She’d simply help you when you’d fell sick, until she knew you’d be okay. She wouldn’t further herself until she knew you’d come with her.

Baraka already worried constantly about giving you his disease if you weren’t already infected. So to him, your health was the utmost importance and seeing you well was a sign that he didn’t harm you. When it was reported that you’d fallen ill from the lack of sleep, he would help you as often as possible but take his frustration out on some of the colony for not looking after you when he can’t. He’d even ask Mileena if there is anything she could do to help you, or advice, but he’d rely mostly on what he knew.

Bi Han would have noticed something was up when you didn’t sleep when it came time to. He might not care too much at first when he sees you’re still functioning but that changes entirely when one of his subordinates told him that you were rushed to the infirmary because you felt like you were suffocating. He will know what’s wrong with you whether you tell him or not, and until you rest, you’ll be bedridden. If he can’t bring you things you ask for himself, he’ll get others (or his brothers) to do it for you… Except for cuddles/intimacy.

General Shao begins to worry on the inside when you start to get sick, but he keeps he’s tough exterior. He’ll investigate your current habits if he hasn’t already, and go to the best doctors in all of Outworld for help. When he gets to the bottom of it, don’t try to deny it—he notes your dark under eye. He knows what it’s like to be sick and it is not fun at all. He scolds you for not taking care of yourself, even a little offended that you’d do such a thing while with him. However, he relies on the doctors who he sends on order to report to him. You don’t get to leave until he thinks you’re okay, regardless of what the doctors say.

Geras doesn’t need sleep, but that doesn’t mean he is unaware of the importance of it. When you stay up with him to bond over the hourglass and timelines, it’s fun… At first. But when you keep doing it day after day and night after night, he hints at your depleted energy as of late. You may brush it off, but he looks into what this could mean for you. Ideally, he stops it one way or another before it could get worse.

Havik thinks it a major nuisance, and it mostly wouldn’t stop him in his endeavors. He doesn’t care for how you look. When you begin to have physical complications from your exhaustion, he lets it only so far thinking you’ve got it before he himself stops it. While he bounds you to the bed until you sleep, he’s out doing what he normally does best. He comes straight back to you, though, but don’t mention it at all to him. He doesn’t want something so tame like that exposed.

Johnny Cage would innocently comment on how you look the moment it started to show. It would start an argument from how agitated you’ve been lately, sure, but he says it’s out of concern (and love) for you. He gives you just about anything that could help you sleep. If you get ill from not being able to, he makes you see a doctor. Either that, or he “has some ideas that could tire you out”. You roll tired eyes, whatever that means.

Kenshi would also note your sullen look if he sees it [through sento], but much more cordially and obviously a lot more genuinely concerned. He doesn’t mind if he should stay home and cuddle to sleep at all, and it makes him a little sad when you turn him down. When you eventually get sick from your habits, he argues with you briefly as soon as you’re sentient again, but becomes your ultimate schedule reminder. You scared him half to death.

Kitana pulled you aside, even going as far as to get you excused you from your duties for a moment so that you could get some rest. When you fall ill from it she wants updates on your health even if you’re stagnant. She offers you certain herbal remedies to encourage sleep, and gets you a spa day so that you could look a little bit better than what you did before (and hopefully encourage you to sleep). News of your troubles don’t leave where you stay, and she’s discreet about it so you do not get embarrassed amongst your peers. Rumors are dispelled with the quickness.

Kuai Liang worries about you first, gets information second, and then makes a solution last. He listens to you talk about your problems sleeping when you eventually fall ill from the lack. He feels somewhat guilty for not checking on you as you are in his arms every night, but he feels that brainstorming with you and those who are experienced in health a plan that would help you recover is the best apology even though you remind him it’s not his fault. You’ll be required to rest, and he’ll make sure you do before he ever gets any sleep at all.

Kung Lao notices first and foremost when you start to deny rigorous activity with him. It’s only then does he realize how exhausted you look, and for once he gets serious and somewhat selfless. He fights off any of the ill feelings with medicine, all while getting you to do things not too strenuous on your body so that it gets you tired enough to sleep (even if it was just for a minute). He spends as much time needed until it goes away entirely, because he’s relentless like that and not the type to give up or leave you to it. And sometimes, when he’s trying to get you to sleep, he accidentally makes himself fall asleep.

Liu Kang already knows before it gets too late to find out, so it’s no use hiding it from him. He personally clears your schedule somehow, and if you want to work, you can’t. He’s upset with you because of how he found out you haven’t been sleeping, not because you haven’t been sleeping. He makes you prove that you are able-bodied enough to start moving around again when you insist that you can; he begins to check for you at night, having fixed a sleep schedule for you to follow. He complies if you need help sleeping again, and only leaves to return to the hourglass once you’re fast asleep.

Li Mei is the utmost level about it. After you get sick by it, she’s perfectly rehearsed and practiced, but doesn’t enjoy when others franticness starts to impede on her moves. Eventually, your comfort lie solely in her and her quarters instead of some royal infirmary or hospital. She accommodates for you, and covers for you if there are others checking for you elsewhere. She knows a thing or two about exhaustion, so she makes great efforts to help you sleep regularly from now on.

Mileena hardly leaves your side. When you collapse from your breathlessness, Princess!Mileena forgets that she’s not yet Empress. The stress does eventually get to her and it hikes up her symptoms of Tarkat, so once she bounces back from it, she immediately asks about you. She may pull away to engage in her royal duties, but she gets them done quickly and comes back to you as both Empress and Princess. She even bathes in some sort of relaxing herb so that when you both cuddle, you’ll be more prone to falling asleep.

Nitara scours her people’s remedies for a cure. It took her some time, but it doesn’t matter—it doesn’t really work anyway. You’re still tired and ill. As she searches for remedies she brings up the topic of being immortal; she doesn’t press if you deny. She asks a few of her more trusted coven members to look over you when she’s away, and she’s there in an instant when you so much so think of her.

Quan Chi is disappointed, but he helps anyway. He deals more in death and whatnot, but he knows a thing or two about the health of self. He does what he knows best, and if need be, he does great research before making a move. Whenever he feels annoyed from your stubbornness to sleep, that’s when he scolds you for being so reckless. But he wouldn’t let you go unattended.

Raiden chastises you all the way to the infirmary. You’d collapse mid-conversation, unable to breathe and now his hearts racing. When you end up okay, he wants to know what’s going on immediately. He tries not to be so upset with you, but he does everything in his power to help you. Herbal teas, medicine, gentle work over a span of hours—everything. He keeps using what he sees works best. He’s your alarm now and he forces you to sleep when he does; if he could stare at you until you fell asleep he would, but that’s counterproductive.

Rain gently taps you on the head with his staff when you look out of it. He gets annoyed when he’d have to keep doing it, and eventually confronts you. He gives you solid advice if he can’t do it himself, and he checks up on you very often. He feels a sense of shame and guilt from not being more concerned with you and more with his work, and for mindlessly hitting you in the head when you obviously weren’t feeling well. He’s unsure of how to make it up to you, but he’ll get it eventually if you don’t tell him.

Reiko acts as your personal guard already, and it’s only worsened when you can hardly function. One by one does he get some of his more insignificant duties off of him so that he has more time with you. If General Shao knows, he may offer some sort of help. Reiko sometimes makes himself late to duty so that he can take care of you, until he’s sure you’ll be fine on your own for an entire day. He sometimes comes back to you in the middle of duty, when things are boring and he can sneak away, and he helps you get as much sleep as possible from then on.

Shang Tsung makes a snide remark before casting some sort of spell on you to sleep. Before, he’d just made some sort of joke about how tired you look and smothers you with slightly sardonic pet names, but the total 180 when you couldn’t breathe could kill someone. It’s the most emotion he’s shown other than his usual in so so long, and once you’ve come to your senses he practically threatens you to get better. He’d help here and there, but your recovery is reduced to a side hustle over time.

Sindel first noticed when you became lackluster in your work. She confronted you firmly, and only backed off when you assured her that you could continue working. When she caught wind you had ended up in the medics hands, she focused on fixing you first before confronting you on your lie. She’d be hurt, at first, and she temporarily relieves you from your work. You’ll have your own private quarters if you haven’t already, and more luxury that she thinks will help you feel better. Even if you apologize, she’s already made up a reason why you did it and accepts that. However, you’re required to see her now.

Syzoth genuinely starts to act beside himself even at the first sign of complication. He searches all the land for remedies for your kind, and comes back to you to help heal you whether or not he’s successful. Outside of remedies he initiates naps, cuddles and everything nice that would get you to sleep. Deep purrs from his chest as a lullaby. He’s constantly monitoring you when you’re up and active, clinging to your side. When he thinks that you’ve been out for too long, he insists to go back to sleep some more.

Tanya covers for you before you even know. Your lack of sleep makes you overlook things, and she’s been trailing behind you and fixing your mishaps. She’s meant to confront you, and when you collapse before her unable to breathe it’s as if she already knows what to do. When you’re lying in her bed recovering from the incident, she tells you what she’s going to do—it’s not an open ended choice.

Tomas Vrbada is far too observant. He may be busy with Hanzo, but that doesn’t mean he can’t check for you. He pesters you as you get tireder and tireder each day, and eventually catches you up and not sleeping. It sprouts the conversation of your sleeping habits and he’s overall sympathetic to your guilt. He doesn’t let it get to the point of you being sick; and if for some reason it does, he’s already right there to help you (even if his heart is going a million miles an hour). He begins to stop working later so that you eat, sleep and do routines on time.

@𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐀೨

info

[munson-blurbs]

Hello! I stumbled upon your “meet-cute post” and thought it was really cool, so here’s my request :)

I’m Lauren, my pronouns are she/her, and I’d like to be paired with Eddie Munson. I’m an INFP enneagram 4w5, I’m awkward, anxious, creative, quirky, caring and shy. I love listening to music of all sorts of genres, reading and thrifting.

I hope you have fun writing these requests and thank you for doing this 🩷

You meet Eddie while thrifting with your roommate, Robin!

CW: Eddie is initially a bit of a grump WC: 625 Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

“I’m telling you,” you said to your new roommate, Robin, as you opened the door to the thrift store. “They have the best stuff. I’ve already been here, like, five times.”

Robin laughed incredulously. “You’ve only lived in Hawkins for two weeks, and you’ve been here five times?”

“I didn’t ask to be judged,” you huffed, but a smile betrayed your feigned annoyance. Moving to a new town and starting a new job was definitely overwhelming, but it helped that you’d quickly befriended your roommate. “But yes. And now you get to see it for yourself.”

It was no surprise that you’d found a thrift store almost immediately after moving. Whether you were in your hometown or exploring somewhere new, you always managed to find a secondhand store to find one-of-kind trinkets. It felt like fitting the final piece of a puzzle. 

So when Robin had made a comment that morning about wanting a bookshelf but not paying an arm and a leg for it, you knew exactly where to go. 

You made a beeline for the furniture section without allowing yourself to browse the clothing aisles; you were here for Robin and her bookshelf, and you couldn’t be distracted. 

Until you saw it: a record player, the wood a shiny cherry red, in near-pristine condition. 

“I’ll be right back,” you mumbled, not waiting for Robin to acknowledge your absence. 

You had a record collection back at the apartment of different albums you’d acquired over the years. Everything from Elvis to Johnny Cash to Madonna sat in a box that had yet to be unpacked. You ran your fingers over the corner where there was the tiniest chip, and imagined the sounds of music filling your room, melodic and harmonious—

“Son of a bitch!” A frustrated voice yanked you from your daydream. 

You whipped around to see a guy, right around your age, standing behind you. He was scowling at you, his denim jacket-clad arms crossed in front of his chest. 

“Um, sorry, is this—were you going to buy it?” Heat rushed through your body. Had you been too hasty in your excitement?

The man’s expression softened when he saw your nervousness. It was then that you realized how good-looking he was. His frizzy curls formed a halo around his face, juxtaposed by the faded devil emblem on his shirt. 

“No. I mean, yeah, I was, but you—it’s yours,” he stammered. Cocking his head to the side, he studied you for a moment before asking, “do we know each other?”

You shook your head. “I just moved here. That’s why my roommate and I are shopping; we’re supposed to be getting new furniture. Well, she is,” you sheepishly amended. “I’m supposed to be helping her, not finding more stuff for myself.”

He laughed. “Listen, you take the record player. I’ll find one another time.”

“I really don’t need it.” 

“Well, neither do I.” The corners of his mouth quirked up into a smile. “But it would be a shame if it went to the home of someone who was just going to let it sit in the corner. Or worse…” He raised his brows. “Someone who’ll use it to listen to disco.”

Your mouth dropped open in protest. “Don’t knock ABBA till you’ve tried them!”

“Oh, my God.” He scoffed and chewed on his lower lip in consideration. “All right, how about this: we split custody. That way she’s exposed to good music and,” he grimaced, “ABBA.”

You stuck out your hand. “Deal.”

He accepted your offer, shaking your hand. His grip was firm but gentle, and he let his fingers linger against yours for an extra beat.

“I’m Eddie, by the way.” He tucked his hands in his pockets. “You got a name, co-parent?”

--

[undeadcannibal]

Could you do headcannon of the Taskforce 141 boys having a civilian fem!spouse? I’m not a soldier so I am curious to see what they are like and how they meet said spouse. ❤️

Summary: Headcanons for how Price, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz meet their civilian SO

Genre: Headcanons, request(s) Characters featured: Price, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz!

Warnings: none!

A/N: Hopefully you enjoy these! I had fun coming up with different ways they’d meet ‘em. ( Gif credit: xxx )

Price―

He’d be in the middle of a discussion with some of his friends when one of them casually mentions the name of a dating app that’s supposedly hot right now.

At first, he doesn’t care. Reassures himself he’s too old and busy to waste his time with such a thing... until he has a rough night during his downtime. Loneliness weighing heavily on him to the point he finds himself downloading the damn app during a moment of weakness.

At first, he doesn’t use it much. His profile is simple: he’ll post a few photos of himself, vaguely mention what he does for a living, what he’s looking for. And that’s that for a few months. Whenever he had the time, he’d swipe through a couple profiles here and there, but nothing serious had ever come from it.

Until 6 months later, when he finds himself humoring that deep ache in his heart, browsing through profile after profile until he lands on yours.

He knows better than to be fooled by looks, but he’d also be a liar if he said that he wasn’t smitten with you the moment he’d laid eyes on your photo. With a swipe, he silently hopes that the two of you will match, and when you eventually do, he’s over the moon but plays it as cool as he possibly can.

When he takes you out after talking for a while, he properly wines and dines you, doesn’t even kiss you after the first date either. Instead, he’d taken your hand in his and kissed it before asking if he can take you out again.

It takes a few years, but when he proposes, he goes all out in every way possible but makes sure to keep it all private. He can’t stand public proposals.

Soap―

He was home for the holiday season when he’d met you in a super market. You’d looked as lost as ever when browsing the food, so he couldn’t help but ask if you were okay. You mentioned that you were shopping for a relative but weren’t local so you had no idea where to even begin.

He’d helped you grab everything you needed before he felt a rush of anxiety hit him like a train. He’ll never understand what drove him to feel as if he couldn’t let you go without at least asking for your number, but he was thankful for it for the rest of his life.

You’d talk to one another over the phone throughout your entire stay and long afterwards too... By the time the holidays are rolling around again, the two of you had been long-distance for quite sometime, but it’d be the first time seeing you in person after so long. After spending the holiday together between both of your homes, Johnny can’t help but want to keep you in his life for as long as you’ll allow it.

2 years down the line, the two of you are visiting his family again when he decided to propose to you, and when you accepted, best believe both him and his family were excited and quick to initiate a group hug in celebration.

Ghost―

When Simon is off duty, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He struggles with finding things to keep himself occupied while he’s home. Stress and other emotions make even the simplest of tasks difficult for him. So, over time, he’d developed a habit of heading down to a local park to try and relax. Sometimes he’d take a book, other times he simply sat at a bench and allowed himself to get lost in his own mind. Mostly, he’d sit in silence and just enjoy watching the world pass him by.

One day when he’s walking over to his usual bench, he sees you there with a book in one hand and a drink in another. Captivated by the words on the page to the point that you don’t even notice him when he sits down on the opposite end of it, not saying a word or even glancing at you afterward. Instead, he simply watches you out of his peripheral vision. Wondering what you’re reading that has you so engaged.

He didn’t speak to you then. Instead, he’d allowed it to happen a few more times until you finally broke the silence between you two. Glancing up at him from behind your book with a shy smile as you introduced yourself to him. Behind a dark disposable mask, Ghost’s lips quirk upwards into the smallest of grins, thankful that you’d taken initiative. After you greet him, you do your best to make the occasional small-talk before you’ve to leave.

The same thing happens a few more times before he finds himself purchasing a burner phone just so he can give you a number to reach him at.

From there, the two of you would get to know one another better, sharing park dates together before you began to suggest other types of dates. Next thing Simon knew, the two of you were officially together and he was absolutely mad about you, thinking about you every second of his days. Despite the fact, he’s a complicated man with a lot of baggage, so he takes his time with your relationship.

4 years later, he’s the one to beat you to the punch and proposing to you in the very same park you met at after he takes you on a picnic.

Gaz―

IMO, Gaz seems like the type to frequent a coffee shop/cafe he enjoys to the point he’s basically a regular. Has his own favorite table, order, and everything. That is, until one day he arrives a bit later than usual and he sees you sitting there.

Normally, he would have just let you have the table but before he could even turn away to find another one, you were asking him if everything was alright. He couldn’t find it in himself to say yes and turn away. Instead, he somehow manages to not only ask if you two can share the table, but give you a dazzling smile after he does so as well. Taking special notice in how you had blushed afterward.

He wouldn’t ask you out right away. Instead, he’d build up to it. Gives you his number that first day so you two can get to know one another better while he’s off duty. He has to head back for another mission soon, but rest assured whenever he has any time off and it’s safe to do so, he’s spending all of his free time messaging and calling you. Getting to know you better.

Eventually, after the two of you have spent a few unofficial coffee dates together, he works up the courage to ask you out on a proper date. He’s upfront - but vague - about what he does and how it can affect his free time, but thankfully, you never cared. Instead, you’re just happy he finally asked you out after months of beating around the bush.

After your first date together, it’s all downhill from there. He’d fallen head-over-heels for you to the point even his fellow Task Force members noticed and teased him about it. Even more so after he’d gush about how he swears “you’re the one”

Little did they know by the end of the next year, the two of you would be engaged~

[aurumacadicus]

Anyway I saw a commercial where Don Cheadle runs a speakeasy.

--

"Tony, my bar is opening tonight and my piano player has food poisoning," Jim stated when he found him in the living room of his penthouse, watching a basketball game.

Tony blinked at him, shoving a handful of chips into his mouth. "I can flush him with Pedialyte?"

"This isn't college. Also I already left him a case and a credit card in case his girlfriend has to take him to get an IV," Jim answered with a blasé shrug. He reached over the back of the couch to grab his hair and give him a gentle shake. "I understand you're still reeling from your breakup but I need a favor. You must have dated at least one person who can play jazz on the piano."

"Stop wobbling me I'm full of chips," Tony grumbled, lifting his hand to slap Jim's arm. "And no, I didn't. I'm the piano player in my relationships."

Jim paused, then began shaking him with more fervor. "HOW COME YOU NEVER PLAYED FOR ME."

"There wasn't a piano in our dorm I will throw up on you," Tony snapped, smacking his arm again. "Also??? I was adorable in school I would have hogged all the girls."

"It's so annoying that you're right," Jim huffed, allowing himself to be brushed off. He looked around the penthouse, then pointed at the piano next to the window, which he'd always thought was just there either to impress Tony's dates or because rich people just owned pianos. "Show me what you can do."

"I don't want to go to your speakeasy opening," Tony complained, even as he stood and brushed his hands off on his sweatpants. "I want to wallow in finding my ex-boyfriend fucking my ex-girlfriend in my bed. I was supposed to propose tonight. You're getting George Gershwin."

"Oh no," Jim deadpanned. "A way to get your mind off of that guy I hated anyway while getting me to owe you a favor."

Tony paused, slanting him a look out of the corner of his eye. His fingers hovered over the piano keys. "...You'll owe me a favor?" he repeated.

"A big one," Jim confirmed, and couldn't help a relieved smile as Tony's fingers danced along the keys in response, Rhapsody in Blue vibrating out from the piano's body. "Wear that pinstripe number. You'll never have to buy yourself a drink."

--

Most of the patrons were by invite. Jim had wanted to show the place off to his friends first, now that it was finished. A themed bar wasn't the safest bet in any economy, and he wanted them to be able to enjoy it before he had to start stressing about finances. And military people never needed an excuse to drink.

Tony's favor had involved inviting a few of his rich friends, though, and with the selfies Janet Van Dyne and Johnny Storm were posting online, Jim figured he'd be set for a few years, especially when Jan grabbed his hands and sparkled at him about how she'd be coming at least once a week to show off new flapper dresses. (He was still unsure as to how she "sparkled" at him, but it was an adjective he'd gotten from Tony and it was the only really apt one.) They kept dropping fifties in the tip jar, too, which only made his bartenders more cheerful and willing to act in their roles.

Luckily, the higher class clientele were balanced out with Jim's pals from the military. Carol and Maria had already said their goodbyes (Monica had an event early the next morning) but as the air force left, the army rolled in, and he welcomed the Howling Commandoes in with only a little teasing.

"Jim," Natasha said, appearing beside him between one breath and another, despite the beads on her dress tinkling musically with each step. "Why is Bucky lying to people that his food poisoning miraculously ended. And why did he give me five hundred dollars to shut up about him not having food poisoning."

Jim sighed. He should have known that Bucky would have gotten dragged here regardless of his "illness" with friends like the Commandoes. "I needed to get Tony out of the house but I knew he'd only do it if I needed help. Today was the first time he showered in a week."

"I see. Well, I've just gotten May and Happy together," Natasha said ominously. "And Pepper is well on her way to realizing Phil is asking her out. I could use a new project. Steve is also single."

"I really don't want Tony dating right after he found his cheating ex-boyfriend in his bed with someone else," Jim began.

"Don't worry, Steve is stupidly loyal even to people he's not dating and will punch Tiberius Stone in the teeth if he ever sees him," Natasha assured him, and floated halfway across the room as Jim gave her an astonished blink.

Well. Jim couldn't say he didn't want to see that. He drifted over to the piano, where Tony was still diligently playing Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong and Jelly Roll Morton. "You need a break, bud? You've been playing for two hours straight."

"Rhodey," Tony slurred happily, and it made Jim suddenly aware of the rows of martini glasses on the side of the piano. "This is so much fun. Is it okay if my tips go to charity. I can't feel my hands."

Bucky appeared a moment later, cheerfully shouldering him aside. "I'll take over, fella," he said, giving Jim a wink, and hip-checked Tony off of the piano bench and directly into Jim's arms.

"Was that hot or am I sad and drunk?" Tony asked. He squinted at Bucky blearily. "Am I sad and looking for anything to be hot. Or was that actually hot."

Reluctantly, Jim answered, "No, it was hot, but Bucky's taken." He pulled Tony's arm over his shoulders. "Let's get some water in you, okay?"

"Okay but I promised Jan I'd play her out because of drama and panache," Tony wobbled, allowing Jim to tow him over to the dark, moody sitting area. "Is this a secret door? Oh my God yay," he added as Jim pulled a bookcase open to reveal a back room where he could rest without excitement.

Jim had intended for it to be a room for private parties, but letting his friends sober up in it tonight would be fine, probably. Especially if Tony was going to be drunk and cute about it. "What is Jan going to have you play?"

"'Let's Misbehave,'" Tony slurred, and Jim sighed fondly, because of course she was.

[snootlestheangel]

Royal Ghoap AU idea

Soap grows up as Prince, his family is royalty blah blah blah

Simon Riley is in the poor part of the city, which under Soap's father's rule, becomes the recruitment for Knights. It's a program designed to take the youth and prevent them from falling into criminal traps and becoming responsible people. It helps the families. Simon is recruited at a much younger age than most with the intention that he grows up alongside the only son of the King (ie Soap)

He and Soap grow up together, slowly falling in love by the time Simon is a full fledged Knight and they're adults.

Roba is the leader of a gang of criminals that burn the part of the city where Simon is from. The Riley family dies in the fire, and it is presumed that so does Simon, because he had fled the safety of the castle to save his family.

While in the castle before all of this, he had been courting Soap, only for Soap to express concerns that if they let their relationship develop into something more, that the people would say things. Basically Soap rejects Simon's physical advances (cock blocked)

Soap: I'm afraid of what they'll say of you, mo chridhe

Simon: let them talk, so long as I have you, nothing can harm me.

Soap lives for several years thinking that he could have had Simon and yet threw it all away.

Eventually his parents are mysteriously assassinated, and he, along with the King's Guards Price and Gaz, travel far as they follow a series of clues that will lead them to the assassin.

Along the way, they encounter The Ghost, a famed assassin with over a hundred assassinations credited to his name. Ghost is believed to have served under Roba.

There are two major ways I want to approach this.

The first way:

He reveals Roba is behind Soap's parents' assassinations, and tells them his plans to murder Roba himself. Price warns Soap not to trust him, but Soap can't help but feel the phantom is familiar.

One night, slipping away from the watchful eyes of Price and Gaz, Ghost enters Soap's private tent

They have a conversation where Ghost basically begs for forgiveness and Soap is confused and then he drops it, only for Soap to ask him if they know each other. Ghost doesn't directly respond, but Soap thinks it means he's uncomfortable because they don't. However, Simon quickly says "you look good as King, Johnny" not long after Soap falls quiet

Soap turns and then whispers his name. Begs him to take the mask off, asking how Roba has hurt him, etc. Simon eventually takes it off to reveal a very scarred face. Soap touches his face and the scars with tears in his eyes. Simon thinks it's because he's now ugly or not worthy of Soap's love anymore. But Soap finds him still as loveable as ever.

"I see scars. Which means you survived, and you healed, and you live to fight another day. Which means you're here, you're alive, and I finally have another chance to keep you."

"Will you let me have you? Even if just for tonight?"

"Of course. Only if you'll let me have you."

"I trust no other soul."

They get together (obviously) and then Idk where to go from here

The second way:

Soap catches word that Roba has been finally captured in a neighboring kingdom, so he brings Price and Gaz with him. The king of this place is Alejandro, with his partner Rudy, and they are joined by Shadow Company who captured Roba.

They are in the royal hall when Ghost manages to kill his way inside, where he uses his weapons to hold Rudy hostage.

His weapons in question are bladed: two large scythes that can cut from both sides (within the curve and outside), making them versatile and intimidating. Truly a character of Death

Alejandro makes a trade: Roba for Rudy. Everyone expects Ghost to leave with Roba, but instead he attacks him and kills him, kneeling back once the deed is done.

Alejandro asks "if you were not loyal to Roba, then who do you pledge to?" Because it's commonly accepted that assassins aren't solo: they have someone that pays them and provides what they need. Ghost stands, slowly makes his way towards Soap, and raises his weapons.

He proceeds to immediately drop them and uses the Royal Guard salute to show his loyalty to Soap. The salute is used in private by Knights/Guards to the crown/royal family. Only Soap, Gaz, and Price would know this, everyone else would be confused as to what that means.

Graves and a couple Shadows quickly attack Ghost and take him into custody. He keeps eye contact with Soap the entire time, Soap is shitting his pants cause how the fuck does THE GHOST know the private salute????? And why would he say he's loyal to me??? What the fuck???????

While Soap is freaking out, the others are trying to figure out Ghost's plans and blah blah blah. He's not giving anything away.

But Soap suddenly appears, saying that he should ask the questions privately because Ghost pledged his loyalty to him. They're upset Soap is in the room, to which Price, out of breath just goes "he's slippery"

They agree and let Soap "interrogate" Ghost.

Soap asks how he knew the salute. Ghost doesn't answer.

Soap asks why he suddenly pledged loyalty to him.

"To save yourself?"

"No."

"No?"

"Cannot suddenly pledge to something you are already pledged to."

Soap is now confused and he's starting to get a weird feeling. He can't think of something to say, he's so confused. Ghost begins to look at him with the saddest, most emotional look he can despite the mask.

"You look good as King, Johnny."

Don't know where to go with this one as well but I'm definitely partial to the second way.

Anyways what y'all think?

[aoioozora]

Flight to Dreamland.

Part 1

Part 2

Character: Johnny Cage Content: fluff, sleep deprived fem!reader, cuddling, banter, slight sexual suggestion, sleeptalking. Photo credit: CVclaire Note: I'm new to the MK fandom and this is my first MK fanfic! I hope you enjoy <3

“What do you do when you can't fall asleep?”

Johnny blinked his sleepy eyes at you as he leaned against his open door. He let out a yawn and then a low grumble escaped his lips as he hung his head down lazily to process and ponder your question.

“Can't sleep?” he asked in a raspy voice, now forcing his eyes open to look at you.

You looked at him, waiting for an answer.

“Come in,” he opened the door further and moved out of the way as he violently yawned again.

You walked in, dragging your long blanket behind you and pulling it against yourself, almost feeling like a princess wearing a heavy cape. Johnny closed the door and immediately fell stomach down on his bed. You sat down on the edge and saw that his arm was stretched out parallel to your thigh, with his hand hanging limp over the edge. Even in the dark, you could see his muscles and you had to fight the urge to touch them.

“How to fall asleep… How to fall asleep…” he murmured, as if chanting. In the dim moonlight, you could vaguely see that his brows were furrowed.

“They say…” he started, “You gotta sit in another room and do stuff until you're tired.”

You hummed thoughtfully, “Well, for starters, I am in another room.”

“Since you're in my room, I deduce you want to do something with me,” he, now clearly wide awake, said in a teasing, suggestive tone.

You blushed at the suggestion. You felt movement on the bed, and heard the sheets rustle. Glancing behind you at his shadow, you saw that he was laying on his side, supporting his head up with his hand and arm.

“Not what you're thinking,” you said through grit teeth, trying to make yourself sound like you weren't affected by that suggestion.

You heard a scoff. The bed dipped slightly behind you and you heard him ask, his voice now slightly louder, coming from behind you, right next to your ear,

“How did you know what I was thinking?”

Your breath hitched in your throat at the sudden proximity. His breath tickled your ear, sending shivers down your spine. His voice, low, quiet, and intentionally seductive did not fail to send your heart on overdrive.

It came to your realization that you were alone in a room with a man- not just any man, no, no, but one who was charismatic and oozing with pure testosterone, no less, in the middle of the night.

You cursed yourself for choosing such a time to be so vulnerable around him.

There was a pause. While the quiet whisper of his words lingered in the cool night air, he waited for an answer, and you could almost hear him smirking. You sucked in a deep, sharp, annoyed breath.

Taking that for an answer, he said with a guffaw, “You have one hell of a dirty mind, sugar,” and made no conscious effort to move away from your ear.

“I do not!” You protested, unable to hear yourself over how loudly your blood was throbbing in your ears.

He laughed again, clearly amused by your annoyance. His laughter normally was loud and obnoxious (some haters would even go as far as to say that it sounded like nails on a chalkboard, which was not true), but was still oddly endearing. With you, all the time, it was just a quiet chuckle, sonorous and sweet. Every time he laughed in your presence, you felt like he became a little boy, which perfectly encapsulated his occasional childlikeness and childishness.

“Hey, are you mad at me?” he asked, trying poorly to stifle his laughter.

When he got a huff for a response, he put his arms around your waist and nuzzled his cheek against your neck. Although you were mildly upset by his teasing, you didn't oppose this action. The proximity now decided that making you tingly seemed fit.

“Come, lay down with me,” he invited, sounding apologetic, “With my superior singing skills, I'll have you packed and ready for dreamland in no time!”

This earned a giggle from you, and Johnny was relieved to hear it. He may have been an actor, but he could never act contrary to his own feelings. Besides that, he casually dabbled in singing, and you knew he sang extremely well.

As he pulled his arm away slightly to allow you to move, his fingers traced lightly against your shirt over your stomach, over your waist. This sent a strong flurry of butterflies and sparks flying and flitting all over the place in your body. You felt the air hitch in your throat, but you tried to play it cool.

You soon lay next to him on his bed which was meant to hold only one person. The space constraint had to push you closer to him, and he was more than happy to accommodate you by wrapping you in his large, muscular arms, closing further the already measly gap between you and him.

Your blanket was forlorn on the floor, but you completely forgot about it. With one of his arms still around your shoulders, Johnny kicked up his own blanket with his legs and brought it over both of your bodies.

The warmth of his body, and of the lingering warmth on his bed and on his blanket, made you feel like you were a lightly toasted marshmallow on an open fire. It was mighty cold outside, and the chilling breeze that blew in through the netted open windows seemed to go unnoticed.

After he had adjusted the blanket, he turned to look at you. “How do you feel, princess?” he asked with a little smile.

“Warm.” You shyly sunk your face under the blanket.

“Hey, I'm not going to send you to dreamland unless I see your face,” he said in a tone of mock sternness, “For security reasons, I need to know it's you, the real deal.”

You giggled. “What are you? Airport security?”

“Of course! I even had a small acting gig as a flight attendant once in my early days so I know what I'm doing.” he exclaimed softly, “I won't send you unless I see your lovely face.” His voice turned softer and he tugged the blanket down a little, simultaneously brushing the tips of his fingers against your cheek.

You looked at him, shy as can be and mustered a smile. Johnny let out a chuckle of approval and put his arm around you again, allowing his hand to make its way to your hair, tangling his fingers in them. You felt his hand gently pushing your head towards his chest, and you welcomed it. The tip of your nose touched his chest, right above his heart, and you could feel it faintly beating. You could smell the flowery lavender, possibly of detergent emanating from his night clothes, mixed with the earthy pine.

The smell, the warmth, and the man cuddling you, had lulled you to half-sleep already.

Noticing this, he whispered, “We shall now begin takeoff. Fasten your seat belts.”

In your half-sleep, you moved closer to him, obeying the instruction. Johnny would have combusted at your cuteness, but he held himself back. He was on an important mission.

He was glad that it was dark, because his own cheeks were starting to turn pink. Taking in a deep breath to compose himself, he started rubbing you back and singing softly,

“Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do. I'm half crazy, all for the love of you.”

There was no denying he felt exactly what the song said.

“It won't be a stylish marriage, I can't afford a carriage,”

To your half-conscious self, though his voice sounded slightly muddled, it was melodious as the voice of a nightingale; gentle and soothing like a loving touch, like gentle rain pattering against glass windows.

“But you'll look sweet upon the seat of a bicycle built for two.”

The short chorus of this ancient song was enough to lull you into complete sleep, and he soon found you softly snoring, your breath fanning against his chest. He sang the chorus a second time and gradually quieted as he reached the end, but continued rubbing your back.

He felt your body twitch slightly, and thought you were still awake, but upon closer inspection, you were indeed fast asleep.

“I must've put her on a rocket to dreamland. She reached there so fast.” he thought to himself with a smile.

“Johnny… Johnny…” he heard you murmur.

“Sleep talking?” he wondered.

“Yes papa?” he answered, biting his lip to keep himself from laughing.

You mumbled something under your breath. Not being able to hear you, he leaned closer, asking you to speak up.

You were quiet for a long time, but Johnny wasn't the one to give up. Hoping that you would repeat yourself, he stared at you, waiting.

“I love you…” came your faint whisper.

The womanizing Johnny was used to such words, be it from past lovers or from adoring fans, but the quiet voice, the quiet confession of the lady in his arms was enough to make a man of his caliber melt helplessly.

He wondered if you were dreaming about him, and was flattered to know that you liked- no, loved him enough to show up in your dreams.

“I love you too,” he answered, pressing his lips gently on your forehead.

He saw a faint smile on your face, and wondered if Dream Johnny did the same thing. If her interpretation of him was right, he could expect it.

“Sweet dreams, princess.” he finally said, now closing his own eyes.

End.

Part 2

[quinnysnursery]

little!johnnie being super clingy w carrington but carrington loves it bc usually HE is the one being clingy when johnnie is big :(

johnnie would be following carrington around the house and constantly tugging on his shirt or hugging him from behind to get his attention <3

idk how familiar u are with carrington but i j think their friendship is cute !!

- 🪐

[🦇] someone new | carrington & johnnie guilburt one-shot

paring : little!johnnie x babysitter!carrington x cg!jake

summary : carrington spends alone time with regressed johnnie for the first time and realizes he isn't the only clingy one in the house.

warning/extra tid-bits : minor crying

word count : 1,836

divider credit : me ^-^

a/n : first time writing carrington >.<

(sorry for any typos, i'm just a girl !)

Carrington smiled, watching as Jake tickled Johnnie relentlessly.  “Dada!” Johnnie’s high-pitched giggles were definitely a first for the brunette man. 

Both Jake and Johnnie - though Jake mainly lead the conversation- had informed Carrington of Johnnie’s coping mechanism before he moved in. 

“We totally understand if you want us to stay out of your hair.”

“It’s NOT a kink! It’s nothing remotely like that.”

Carrington wasn’t a monster. If his friends swore to him that it wasn’t a kink, then he believed them. Eventually doing some more research of his own, he came to a more cohesive understanding. Johnnie’s regression came as a way for him to relive his youth without having to be crammed on a tour bus and well, how could Carrington hate that?

He told both alternative men that no matter what, Johnnie was free to regress as he needed. He meant it too. Johnnie was here first, it felt wrong to ask him to lock himself away in his room. Plus, maybe Carrington was a little curious to see what Johnnie acted like in littlespace.

Though he never actually thought he’d see Johnnie little. Not that he was opposed to it! He just figured Johnnie was a private guy and thought little Johnnie was the same. 

But, it was currently 3:30 pm on an afternoon and Carrington had found himself downstairs, watching Jake and Johnnie play wrestling on the couch. 

“I got you!” Jake hummed, laughing as Johnnie attempted wiggling out of his tight hug. Another high-pitched squeal came from Johnnie, once again taking Carrington by surprise. 

Realizing he was starring, Carrington sheepishly averted his eyes to the floor before beginning his walk to the kitchen.

“Carri-Carrin’ton h’lp!” Johnnie giggled, trying to push Jake’s arms to make him break the hug. Jake looked at Carrington, mouthing something about “You don’t have too”…but the brunette wanted too.

“Get off of him!” Carrington said playfully, tossing himself over the couch and helping Johnnie “escape” Jake’s grasp.

Johnnie instantly hid behind Carrington, wrinkling up his nose and holding his tongue out to his caregiver. Jake laughed before looking at his phone for the time. “Oh shoot, it’s lunch time. C’mon Johns, I promised you Daves.” The caregiver said, swiftly standing up and patting his pajama pants for his keys and wallet.

“Carri’ton come too?” Johnnie asked hopefully, still behind the brunette. “Uhh…it’s up to him, hun.” Jake explained, once again giving Carrington a look that said “No pressure!”.

He was going to make himself a grilled cheese and grab a coke from the fridge but…looking at Johnnie’s wide eyes…he couldn’t help but agree.

“I like Daves.” Carrington smiled, earning an excited cheer from Johnnie as he quickly began telling Carrington all about what he liked to order.

That’s how it started.

After that day, Little Johnnie seemed to always have some excuse as to why he ended up in Carrington’s room. Carrington couldn’t have cared less, he was absolutely delighted to hear what the mentally regressed boy’s excuse was each time.

“Carri’ton?” Johnnie mumbled, peeking his head around the white wooden door. Carrington turned his PC chair, a smile plastering itself onto his face at the sight of the emo boy.

It wasn’t just Johnnie’s clothing choices that made him look younger, though the baggier hoodies and sweatpants did help. It was the expression in Johnnie’s eyes. They were wide and looked around at everything just as a toddler would. Johnnie’s eyes held a childlike wonder when regressed, and Carrington couldn’t get enough of it.

“What’s going on, bud?” The brunette asked, placing his headphones on his neck. “Um…Jakey home?” Johnnie asked, wrapping a loose string from his hoodie around his finger anxiously. Carrington frowned, realizing the little was looking for his caregiver who’d left to film a video with Tara just moments prior.

“No bud, he left to film with Tara. Remember?” Carrington asked, before beginning to look around for his phone to text Jake.

“Oh..” Johnnie mumbled, his eyes darting around Carrington’s room. “I can text him for you, how does that sound?” Carrington offered, smiling as Johnnie nodded. 

Johnnie pushed the door the rest of the way open, making his way to Carrington’s bed and instantly melting into the various fluffy blankets that Jake had bought him during their target video together. 

“Comfy, huh?” The brunette smiled before sending Jake a text to let him know that Johnnie was little and in search of him. Johnnie nodded, his messy bed head flopping up and down as he did so.

“Are you hungry? I can make you something.” Carrington offered the little, who was now shaking his head no. 

“Thirsty?” Another shake.

Jesus, what did Jake do to keep the little entertained? Carrington tried racking his brain for things he’d seen Jake do whilst caregiving but ended up drawing a blank after realizing a big part of it was making sure Johnnie ate and drank.

It then dawned on Carrington that he didn’t really know what Little Johnnie liked.

“Carri’ton, ‘tuddles?” Johnnie’s words snapped the 22 year old boy back to reality. 

“Yeah! We can cuddle.” Carrington smiled brightly as he stood up and fell onto his bed, engulfing the regressor into a bear hug.

His love language had been physical touch since he was a young boy, he’d always be seen leaning against his mom or following his sister around. This continued into adulthood, with Jake he’d constantly find himself holding onto the punk’s arm or wrapping an arm around his shoulder. He loved it. He loved being so close to other people that you could feel the connection via their touch. Johnnie though…Johnnie wasn’t opposed to Carrington’s touch, if he was then Carrington would’ve backed off instantly. Johnnie just wasn’t used to being shown love physically, resulting in his shoulders becoming stiff everytime Carrington would latch onto him. 

Little Johnnie, seemed to have a completely different perspective on physical touch. Seeing as the little was currently trying to bury himself inside of Carrington’s ribcage.

“Okay, okay. I got you.” Carrington laughed as Johnnie fussed whilst getting comfortable. Somehow, his fingers found their way to Johnnie’s hair and that seemed to do the trick to get Johnnie settled. 

The two stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, Johnnie occasionally popping his head off of Carrington’s chest to ask a question that made the brunette glad he paid some attention in school.

“Why can birds fly but we can’t?” 

“Because our bones aren’t hollow, but theirs are.”

“But why can planes fly?”

“Because plane wings are made especially for flying.”

Eventually, that ended too. Leaving Johnnie playing with the strings on Carrington’s hoodie as Carrington’s fingers danced along his hair. “When’s Jakey gonna be home? M’ miss ‘im.” Johnnie mumbled, looking up at the brunette man with his big blue eyes.

“Um…I’m not sure bud, let’s check.” Carrington said, digging around the blankets before finding his phone and clicking on Jake’s texts.

“Stuck in rush hour traffic, you guys good?” 

Carrington frowned, they were technically good but he wasn’t Johnnie’s caregiver. He knew his comfort could only last so long before the little got antsy. 

“Whas’ it say?” Johnnie asked, a slight whine in his voice. “It says he got stuck in traffic, so it’s gonna be awhile.” Carrington’s face dropped when he realized the little’s lip was quivering.

“Hey…don’t cry, bud.” Carrington cooed, clicking off his pink phone and sitting up in his bed. Johnnie did the opposite, releasing all his tears at once as he launched himself at Carrington.

The regressed boy had fully wrapped his legs around Carrington’s torso, hiding his face in the crook of Carrington’s neck. It took everything for the brunette boy to not melt in a puddle right then.

Johnnie choked out a frustrated sob, mumbling something about “wanting Jakey now”. 

“I know buddy, I know…” Carrington began soothing, rubbing Johnnie’s back gently. Jake wouldn’t be home for at least another hour and Johnnie was clearly very upset about this fact.

Racking his brain for any ideas, it dawned on Carrington that movies always calmed him down as a child.

“Hey, how about this…” Carrington began, earning the attention of Johnnie. Johnnie picked up his head, facing the brunette man who took the opportunity to wipe away Johnnie’s tears with his hoodie sleeve.

“D’ya wanna watch a movie? By the time it’s over, Jake should be home.” Carrington smiled, the promise of Jake being home by the time the movie was over was enough for Johnnie to immediately agree, tears a thing of the past.

“Okay! C’mon, let’s watch downstairs.” Carrington beamed, proud that he’d successfully navigated what could’ve been a meltdown. 

“Popcorn?” Carrington offered, digging through their pantry. Johnnie nodded, making a small “mmhm!” noise with his mouth closed. The taller man nodded, unwrapping the popcorn package and placing it in the microwave. 

Johnnie held on tightly to the back of Carrington’s hoodie, keeping the other hand near his mouth as he chewed on his thumb.

“Bud, I dunno if you should be chewing on yourself.” Carrington commented, earning a dissatisfied huff from the little. Carrington let out a small laugh, shaking his head. Johnnie wasn’t this stubborn out of littlespace.

It was interesting to see how different little Johnnie acted from big Johnnie. The way Johnnie watched Carrington’s every move, or the way Johnnie clung by his side with zero hesitation. 

As the popcorn began popping, Johnnie’s grip on Carrington’s hoodie came loose and he opted for holding onto the man’s arm. Carrington smiled, assuring him that the popcorn had to pop, hence the name.

“We watch Skellin’ton?” Johnnie asked quietly as Carrington placed the bowl of popcorn onto the coffee table, turning on the TV.

“Huh?” Carrington asked, furrowing his brow slightly. “Skellin’ton.” Johnnie spoke again, as if what he was saying was obvious. 

Skellington? Who the hell was Skellington?

“Jaaack Skellin’ton.” Johnnie whined, shaking Carrington’s arm gently. “Oh! Nightmare before Christmas?!” Carrington asked, a smile wide on his face. Johnnie nodded excitedly, “Skellin’ton!” He beamed. 

“Yes, we will watch Skellington.” Carrington agreed, a small laugh escaping his lips as he found the movie on Disney+. 

The two shared the bowl of popcorn, Carrington commenting on how cool halloween town was which sparked Johnnie to excitedly explain that apparently there were other holiday towns that the movie never showed.

Carrington pretended not to know, because Johnnie seemed delighted to tell someone other than Jake this fact.

Eventually, Carrington felt a new weight be added on his shoulder. Looking over, the brunette boy couldn’t help but smile seeing that Johnnie had fallen asleep, hand gripping Carrington’s hoodie as if Carrington would even dream of leaving. 

A few minutes later, just as the credits began to roll…a panicked Jake Webber entered the house, instantly stopping as he saw his little asleep on the couch.

“How’d it go?” Jake asked quietly, looking at the empty bowl of popcorn on the table. Looking down once more at Johnnie, Carrington answered,

“Good. It went good.”

taglist !! :

@babybatxxx @mattssturnz @mattsturniologf444 @graceslittlecorner @zivall @hrtz4alex2211 @bimbob1tch

[sigh-tofm]

if you’re a gym rat… (some 18+)

… price

- gets back into it. has always had a certain level of physique he’s had to keep up being in the army, but he isn’t the young sergeant he once was anymore. still, he usually jogs twice a week and lifts some weights when time allows.

- that is, until you start pulling him along. early morning leg sessions with the sunrise and lighthearted planking contests during the footie halftime. equally enjoys getting back into the workout game, spending time with you and getting to look at your body in the tight gym wear. especially loves the the soft pudge at the bottom of your stomach and the way all of you jiggle when you do burpees.

- showers with you after the fact. long, steamy showers in each other’s arms. no sex in there (you’re both sore and the floor is slippery), but it’s not necessary. you’re content with the hot water massaging your spent muscles and the feeling of your solid lover around you.

… kyle

- hypes you up. already spends more time in the gym than you do, so he knows every exercise and machine in and out. eagerly teaches you everything and anything you ask him about. never lets anyone else spot you, always does it himself. especially likes spotting your squats.

- follows your pace, whether that means exhausting himself for you or slowing down for you. will join you on hill sprints and long distance runs, but is thankful he gets to hold the stop watch and blow the whistle when you do beep tests.

- thinks the act of exercising together can be as intimate as sex itself. getting to observe and explore each other bodies, each other’s strengths and weaknesses. half of it is a mental game and not too unlike kink, he thinks, as you groan and contort your face while pushing your feet into to ground, tensing your muscles into the belt to help with the deadlift. he nods approvingly when you straighten your back and breath out at the top of the lift. ‘one more for me, baby.’

… johnny

- eggs you on. like kyle, always helps you go harder, faster, longer, but does it by way of teasing. ‘that all, then? come oan, ye had more in ye last night.’ always toes the line between encouraging and infuriating, but to his credit he also tricks you into lifting the bar one more time instead of putting it down.

- jogs become races and walks become dogwalks. johnny is restless even if you’re both coming straight from an intense hiit-session. if you’ve decided on a leisurely pace, johnny will run ahead and circle back, take detours to look at interesting buildings and natural features, and constantly weave left and right on the path ahead or behind you, like a border collie.

- does not mind the sweat after a session. will eat you out in the parking lot until the car windows fog up. eventually pulls your panties back up and pat your belly over them, only to drive back home and do it all over again in the shower.

… ghost

- never leaves you. you’d think he keeps up a pretty strict routine with that pure strength he possesses, but he will drop anything if you suggest going hiking or practice a specific form. nothing is too boring, basic or easy if he’s doing it with you. that includes yoga, where you are actually leagues ahead of him in balance and flexibility. the only thing he has going for him is his sniper’s patience.

- effortlessly lifts the bar up when spotting your bench presses and you hit failure. leans down over the bar to kiss your nose while you catch your breath. ‘look at tha’. i’ll take ten kilos off, let’s end this on a high note.’ won’t hear your protests about how that’s not how it’s done, and make you do another rep with less weight, to keep the muscle memory of perfect form.

- ends each session with you practicing grip, which is something you both need to work on, you’ll hang face to face on the power rack and simultaneously try not to laugh while also gripping the bar for as long as you can. having an excuse to look you dead in the eyes is simon’s favourite part of each session.

[cas-backwards-tie]

Golden

Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish x Reader

Summary: Johnny reminisces on his summer fling with you. Horizons broaden and world shaken, he comes to a realization.

Words: 600+

Warnings: None!

Mentions of: past one night stands, sexual intimacy,

A/N: I forgot about this for a sec, but @bumblebeesfromvenus reminded me, and I was bound to write this drabble. also, line divider credit to @enchanthings . I repeat- I repeat- I’m not really a Swiftie or anything BUT 🙈😳👀😭 I keep seeing this snippet of the song on my fyp on tiktok and I just can’t help but think about how:

Johnny is definitely no chump when it comes to lacking experience in the bedroom… yet when it comes to love? That’s another story altogether. Sure, he may not have been caught fraternizing, and he’d never put his career in jeopardy for anything long term. That’s why it’s so unexpected when you suddenly pop into his life after a much needed leave.

You’re a civilian, but much like him you too travel for work. Yet your vacations just so happened to line up with one another. While his might have been more of an obligated leave of absence for recovery, yours was to adventure and see the world.

That’s what brought you to his homeland of Scotland. Though more specifically, the Highlands. What’d started out as a coincidental bump into each other turned into playful flirting before he fully knew what he’d gotten himself roped into by offering to show you around all the more niche points of interest that might’ve not been in the airport’s pamphlets or kept off the popular blogs online.

After a series of ambitious expeditions; a haphazard picnic made up of the snacks you’d brought atop a hill after hiking all day, braving the chilly ocean at the Isle of Skye, a kayaking adventure gone wrong, and many more stories… it never left him. Even after months of traveling back and forth to see one another in different parts of the world, that trip… you… never left his mind.

Truth be told, it didn’t take him until now to realize what he felt, in fact, he’d swear part of him knew all along. And while, yes, it may have been the prodding and poking his teammates did that sparked the realization of what his feelings truly were, it didn’t take away from the fact that you’d changed his world.

John always thought that love would be simple. It was something that you’d know once you felt it, once you’d experienced it. Like a snap of fingers, that was love. Once you were in it, it was done, unchanging, a stagnant blissful feeling that’d never fade, and yet… that wasn’t true at all.

You’d shown him that.

Love was… the exact opposite. It wasn’t some sudden onset of passion, a fleeting whirlwind of fiery fervor that eventually fizzled out. Love is… ever changing.

It’s the mischievous little moments the two of you share together that leave you laughing like children when you decide to sneak into his childhood bedroom in the middle of the night, or the sparkle in your eye when you’ve accomplished something you’d only ever dreamed of.

The easiness and comfortability that’d lead him to falsely believe he’s known you his entire life, the way you’d slipped right into his grasp and he never wanted, even for a second, to let you go. Maybe it was the vulnerability that seemed so effortless between the both of you, one saying something that lead the other to let a personal fact or story slip past their lips, with no embarrassment or regret to follow.

Perhaps it’s the way you linger in his mind, images of your time spent together consuming him what feels like every waking moment. From the friendly interactions to the naughtier memories slipping toward the forefront of his mind as he reminisces on the way you’d stared at him, eyes full of adoration as he’d held you close, soft skin just beneath his fingertips as he inhaled the scent of your mixed sweat and the sweetly shampoo you use. He never wanted to lose the visceral remembrance of those intimate moments.

Yes, he knows now that he was so wrong to think that love was nothing more than simply black or white. Every single day he’d spent with you only proved that fact as he fell more and more in love, the emotions expanding and shifting, adapting with every breath of the wind. Oh, how wrong he was, he thinks back on it, smiling to himself like an idiot as the only thing he knows is that he needs to tell you how he feels. Solidify that fact and take a chance, make a move to tie you down… tie you to him. That is, if you’ll let him, or it’s not too late. He could care less if his brothers see him like this, it’d be worth it for you. It always will.

~~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @jynzandtonic , @safarigirlsp , @moonlightsolo , @penelopepine

[brokenpieces-72]

Task force 141 gangster! X f!reader

Right. Right?

This is part 2. Part 1 is here.

TW/CW: Mentions of deceased family, power abuse, discipline, shaming, let me know if there’s anything else

It had been about a month of you working with Soap and his gang, meeting a couple of others and doing some more graffiti. You can’t lie, making some graffiti that took shots at your so-called peers, was nice. All the while you took note of anything and everything you did with Soap and other thugs. You reported it all in and eventually Graves made his way into the gang himself. Any interaction you two had was kept as strangers. Until you retired for the night. Then he was at your apartment ready for a report. Everything was scribbled down and noted, and you’d either hand him the papers or relay it verbally.

One night it was pouring and despite Soap offering to let you stay the night at one of the hideouts you insisted on returning to your own apartment. You ran quickly through the cold freezing fall rain. Maybe staying with Soap couldn’t hurt. Simple text to Graves letting him know of a change in plans. No. Rain or shine you were determined to prove you could handle anything. As you walked through the alleys you came across a large crouching figure, and a mangy cat. The figure petting the cat, while trying to keep it dry with an umbrella. You’d heard about Simon Riley before but never brought him up with Johnny. Too much risk of blowing your cover. Now here he was petting a stray cat. Softer than you had given him credit for. The cat noticed you watching though, and before could turn and see you, you bolted. The last person you wanted to suspect you of anything was Ghost.

You arrived at your apartment, tired, wet and cold. You opened the door and saw Graves inside waiting and pacing.

“The hell have you been?” He asked, southern accent strong as always.

“I got held up. Sorry.” You said taking off your bag.

“Report?” He asked.

“Can I change first?” You asked.

“No.” Graves orders. He’s barely wet himself, likely took his own car to get to your place.

“There’s nothing to report. Same as before.” You explained.

“There’s something to report. Where did ya go, what did ya do today, who did ya talk to?” Graves asked and you felt your body and patience saying, ‘done’.

“I met two other gangsters, Alejandro Vargas and Rudolfo Parra. They mentioned medicine but didn’t go into much detail, not enough to confirm drug trafficking. We had a few meals, and they asked me about doing another art bomb.”

“You getting paid for it?” Graves asked.

“No. I offered.” You closed your eyes as you realize that you let it slip. If you were getting paid they could get an arrest. But offering…

“You offered to vandalize for them? Are you fucking kidding me Y/N?” Graves is pissed. “This isn’t an art exhibition this is an investigation, get that through your fucking head!”

“It gets me closer to them.” You exclaim. “If I offer services for free they don’t question it, they think I’m a street artist.”

“You’re a glorified tagger and you have been at this for month with nothing to fucking show for it!”

“And you do?” You asked. Emotions took over before you could stop it. Graves was in the same boat as you. But he was also your superior. He marched up to you getting in your face.

“Watch your fucking mouth sergeant, or the next time you’re on the streets you’ll be begging for change. Understand me?”

“Yes sir.” You said quietly.

“You want to prove yourself so much I’ve given you that chance. Don’t make me regret it.”

“Yes sir.” You repeated.

He opened the door to your apartment to leave before saying, “You make your father look like joke being his kid…”

Graves slammed the door closed and you stood there. You’re dripping on the floor for a few minutes before you go to the bathroom and get yourself cleaned up, hanging your wet clothes to dry and taking a warm shower, before curling up in your bed. You sit there for a moment, and think about what Graves said.

“You make your father look like a joke being his kid.”

You sniffle, wiping your tears.

Your father was a great man and a great cop. He was a greater dad. When he passed you felt that becoming a cop was the only way to honour him. Following in his footsteps put a great deal of expectations on you. Ones you never seemed to reach. Graves was your father’s partner. At first you felt he was keeping you safe, not wanting to lose his late partner’s kid. Now you weren’t so sure.

You feel your phone buzz and it’s a text from Soap.

S: Hey kid, you get home okay?

Y: Got drenched. Took a shower, warming up.

S: If you get sick, text me. I’ll bring some food over.

Y: That’s okay I have food.

S: Can’t wait to see what you come up with for the Los Voqueros. Nite.

Y: nite.

You lay back in bed, and think for a bit. You have to remind yourself that Soap is a criminal. He has to be. The police were doing justice. You were doing justice… but you aren’t. You’re running around with criminals, doing art commissions.

You needed to step up. You needed answers.

“Alejandro?” Rudolfo called over his boss, from his computer. Alejandro looked over his shoulder.

On the screen was your file. Your police file. Alejandro cursed under his breath.

[gottalovetumbler]

Supernatural Stains

Pt.2 LFG!!!! MDNI 2,274 words info: blood, cursing, anger, dentist (Got longer than I expected but I wanted to get the back story squared away so we came all now ignore it and read on :)

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It's been over a week since you've seen those two handsome hunks and it seems you're already going through withdrawals. The bags under your eyes have grown from near non-existent to the first thing people's eyes linger on when you greet them. To make things even better this is your first night shift in a four-shift stint so there's physically no way for you to try and remedy this odd predicament you've found yourself in. 

Your shoulder pops as you shove another drop off into the large 40lbs washing machine, you should honestly get that checked out, not cause it hurts or anything it isn't very comfortable. As you throw the last struggling socks into the drum a scent you recognize hits your senses. Ah yes, the lovely scent of shit and menthol fills the air, by golly it's your absolute favor- 

“Excuse me, do you work here?” 

Agitation digs into your spine as it crawls higher and higher because no Dave, we haven't seen each other many times and I sure as hell haven't folded your dirty ass underwear more times than my own or anything. A nice smile grows on your face as you speed walk to the office, taking pride in the fact that he has to huff and puff to keep up with your cruel pace. “Of course! How can I help you?

“Well first off whoever did my laundry last time folded it when they weren't supposed to and I got overcharged for it so I'd like that as a credit or discount. Secondly, the idiot bunched my socks up instead of folding them like asked so howcan I get compensated for that?” What a lying fucking bastard, are you kidding me? You did that laundry perfectly and even took a few pounds off the total because you felt nice but nope no anymore. 

“Well for the overpayment I can calculate how much you overpaid and apply that to this drop-off but for future reference please let us know when you pick up if something looks wrong so we can fix it as soon as possible. As for the socks, I won't be able to do much about that since they were not damag-.”

A wrinkly finger being shoved into your face stops your angry ramble, impatience simmering about to spew as you lock eyes with the source of the said appendage. The vein in his neck bulges out as he bares his teeth at you ready to tear you a new one, not sure if it'll be physically or metaphorically with how angry he's becoming. The upcoming onslaught was halted by a large hand landing roughly on Dave's right shoulder. Your matching sneers split from each other and snap to the owner of the rough grip and in that moment you realize just how invested in the angry exchange you were. 

“Mate, if you think that's the way to speak to a beautiful young lady then you need ta’go for a walk.” 

And well, you'd be lying if you deny in any way that the smooth accented voice didn't make you flush. A small part of you is scared that this will just cause a bigger reaction and maybe even a lawsuit from dear old Dave but as you both look towards the voice you realize, there's no way in hell Dave will win this one. It seems he realizes this too as he just shoots you a dirty glare and stalks out the door with his laundry. 

You recognize one of the two men straightaway, that being Johnny, and boy oh boy did you miss that faint but sweet strawberry scent though you note its dirt counterpart is much less overpowering this time around. The new scent though, lemongrass with a smidge of gunpowder, nearly takes your breath away though what truly makes you gawk is the man it's attached to. What is up with all the attractive men and why are they in your laundry mat? How did not only this 6 '1 brown-eyed beauty but his two other handsome friends end up here?  

“You alright there, love? Something on my face?” Your face flushes as Johnny snorts, clearly getting the same feeling of Deja Vu as you. The new man huffs in laughter as your head bows. The sight that greets you causes your heart to drop, there's a small puddle of blood beneath both your clenched hands. You stand frozen both in shame and awe as you stare at the crimson fluid, what crappy vampire gets entranced by their blood. Two warm hands grip each of yours gently, dislodging the nails from your palms, they must be speaking but all you can hear is the roar of blood pumping through your ears.

As your gaze locks back into focus you question just how long you've been zoned out. The light outside is nonexistent so it's no longer 5 something pm, a sluggish glance to the bottom of the computer screen tells you it's 7:36. And holy shit does that knock you straight out of the nice daze you found yourself in, your senses slowly come back as you take in your surroundings. 

You're still in the office but instead of at the counter your sat in the plush rolling chair tucked into the back corner, Johnny is sitting in one of the chairs from the lobby to your left still massaging your now bandaged hands. His eyes lock with yours and a question is clearly on the tip of his tongue when the mystery man makes himself known. 

“Oh, finally you're up! How long do you dry a down comforter for? A lady jus' dropped one off with the vague instructions to make sure i' was quite fully dry.”

It fully clicks in then that not only have you been out of it for more than two but also that the new man has been handling everything for you. 

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry that you had to do this. I have no idea what came over me. I am so so sorry.” Your attempt to shoot out of the chair is stopped by an immovable force, Johnny's arm locks around your midsection and pushes you back down. “No sae fast bonnie, yer in na shape tae up ad movin around. Sit back doun, guid lass, an juist rest, kyles got it covered for ye.”

“I appreciate that I really do but please, you've already helped me enough and I need to get back to work before someone reports me to the owner.” It takes quite a bit of energy to stop the nervous stammer in your voice but youmanage. It takes even more energy to convince both Johnny and who you assume is Kyle to let you finish the night but they eventually leave after catching you up with everything that's happened while you were out. 

Turns out Dave did end up coming back in and dropped off his laundry that Kyle finished as quickly as possible but waited an extra hour to let him know he could pick it up. Other than that, the machines gave them some grief and a handful of rowdy high school kids tried to use the lobby as a hangout spot but once it was clear they had no laundry they were quickly escorted out. After getting you up to speed they finally parted, Kyle with a tip of his head and Johnny with a frown. 

It was about 5 minutes after they left that you realized they not only handled customers for you but also started the nightly clean-up duty, the lint traps were cleared, the trash can emptied and even the machines were wiped down. Due to it luckily being decently quiet the rest of the night you really didn't need to sweep or mop so for the first time ever you got out right at close. 

With it being only about 10 pm, the drive home was filled with many more bright headlights than you would have liked but it wasn't unpleasant. Especially since you were much more focused on how many emotions were bumping around in your muddled head. The topmost being a mix of embarrassment and anxiety, what if Kyle and Johnny think you are some freak (just the word makes you cringe, mainly because it's not untrue), or what if someone contacted your boss or worse, left a review about the seemingly inebriated girl in the back of the office getting her bandaged hands rubbed by a burly man. All these thoughts came to head as you made a sudden and unwanted realization, you care way too much about what these men (who mind you, you've only seen less than three times) think of you. I mean you haven't even been properly introduced to each other, they could be serial killers for all you know, and here- ring ring ring.

You jump as your eyes snap to the screen of your car where the name Big Grin takes up the whole screen. Why the hell was your dentist calling this late at night? With a huff, you answer the phone with a soft “Hello?”

“Hi, is this Y/N? This is Jessie calling from Big Grin, is this a good time to talk?” She continues after getting a positive noise from you. “I'm calling with regards to your recent appointment following your concern with your teeth amongst other things-.” Oh OH, that's why they are calling so late. 

~~~~~~~flashback~~~~~~~

A few months back you finally started seeing a new dentist after moving out of your parent's house. The dentist they took you to wasn't bad per se but he didn't know how to not be a creep. So you found a new dentist, Dr.Owen was a kind man and truly listened to all your concerns, especially paying attention to the ones surrounding your upper fangs. You had seen him for about 3 months when it all changed, one day he was just doing a routine cleaning when he accidentally caught your gum and made you bleed a bit. Now this typically wouldn't be too big of a concern but when the blood hit your tongue you blacked out. Coming back to only about 30 minutes later you were then informed that you are not only not human but that your a fucked up example of what you're supposed to be. 

Dr.Owen didn't say that of course but what he did tell you is that while he is not a vampire his wife is and that was why he had gotten into dentistry in the first place. So that people like you could have access to a normal dentist and routine cleaning. He also let you know that he has studied many different types of fangs but the ones you have are new. It seems that somewhere back in your bloodline something happened because you not only have a set of vamp fangs but also just normal human adult ones. The human ones grew in first and because of that your vamp puberty has been semi-halted. 

The gist you finally get after the hour-long lecture is that being a vampire is only passed through bloodlines, no biting people to change them. And that a kid fully becomes a vampire around the typical age of puberty when their fangs fully grow in. Now vamp fangs are no different from human ones, they look the same and don't even elongate like in movies, all they do is trigger a hormone that completes the transformation. The issue with your is that because they aren't/can't fully grow they are just sitting in your gums and aren't able to fully turn you. Until they do you won't feel the unstoppable bloodlust nor do you need to feed on blood but because they do exist they have slightly impacted you. 

Until you decide to get the adult fangs removed and let the vampire ones grow in (if ever) then you would only get small hints of the vampire feature, while you don't need blood to survive if you do taste it, it acts as a little like a sugar rush or caffeine. As for abilities, your sense of smell is slightly more enhanced and your eyes are more sensitive to light, effectively making you half vampire half human. 

He also gave you a quick rundown of the history of vampires, how the first was recorded as a passenger on a ship sailing back to Britain from the new world The issue with the story though is that everyone on that ship swore up and down that Thomas H Kline never boarded the ship and appeared out of nowhere. With no proof of Thomas being anything but a normal passenger, he was free to live his everlasting life in London where he had three children with his human wife Louise. Out of the three, two inherited the gene and with them, the curse continued down the bloodline till one of the branches came to you. 

~~~~~~~unflashback~~~~~~~

“And I'm just calling to schedule your next appointment with Dr.Owen to look at your teeth again and discuss the future, what is a good time for you?” A short back and forth gets you set up for an appointment at 9:30 am the next morning, early enough before work that you can go back home and do nothing for a bit. 

With that thought you pull down your long dirt driveway fully unaware of the truck that slowly drives past the entrance before flipping back around and driving back the way you both came.

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