#and yes john has a wedding ring

[coyo-art]

was thinking about The Boys again so here’s a doodle

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

TF141 getting a boudoir photo album as a wedding gift ♡

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

A/N: THIS WAS SO FUN!!! Great, absolutely phenomal idea, dear anon. Simon's part is very sappy (I cried) which might be ooc for him?? Idk, that's how I write him/interpret his character! :) let me know who's your favorite 👀

~Fi 🐝

《Warnings》: NSFW content. proceed with caution. PiV, creampie, cunnilingus, Johnny's oral fixation (yes, that is a warning.)

It's still very sweet and lovey dovey with all of them bc I'm a certified sap <3

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

John would be grinning and smirking like a proper idiot when he lays his eyes on those delectable photos of you.

I imagine you had a date night at home, sipping wine on the couch and talking about your wedding that's supposed to take place in only 3 days. He's telling you how he can't wait to see you in your wedding dress and slip that ring onto your finger.

Sneaky bastard.

Be prepared to he called Mrs. Price the days leading up to the big day. John excuses it with:

"Need to practice, love. Don't wanna mess it up in front of anyone, eh?"

He knows what he's doing, you know what he's doing, all is well because if he only knew what that did to you. You're just talking, trying to get the nerves out now so you can go into your wedding with a clear mind and have a good time. When you tell him you have a gift for him, his eyebrows almost overshoot his forehead. Yeah, he knew that was a thing some people did, but he never gave it another thought.

In all honesty, marrying you was the best gift he could ever get. Which is why he feels slightly guilty that he doesn't have one for you (at least that's what you see, internally he's crushed) but that all goes out the window when you sit back down with a sleek beige photo album that has a little romantic quote on the front.

What he doesn't expect, however, is the angelic image of your plush body on full display, draped over a velvet chaise lounge with layered pearl necklaces hanging from your neck. This man is shell-shocked. If he wasn't frozen in place, he would've snapped the book shut.

"And what's this, doll, hm?"

His heart feels warm and fuzzy, thinking these are some lovely pictures of you together on holidays you went on, casual trips to the local pub or just some domestic shots you managed to sneak during his leave.

You can basically see the connections to his brain frying. His jaw slacks, and only after what feels like 10 minutes he regains his ability to think and close his mouth. John is sweating and his cock is rock hard as he flips through the remaining pages.

He shoots you the occasional glance while he's trying not to hyperventilate. You just sit back and savor your wine, trying to hide your laugh behind the rim of your glass. You'd expected a reaction, of course, but you didn't think you'd render the John Price speechless just from a few suggestive photographs of you.

But what absolutely breaks the camels back (or John's, in this case) is the last picture of you. You're kneeling, slightly leaned back and supported by your arms, with one of his Flannels covering your soft tits. That alone would've been enough to drive him crazy, but the sight of his old dogtags sitting against your sternum has him groaning out loud.

The only other thing covering you is a simple pair of lace panties, cupping the soft curve and rolls of your tummy so beautifully, John was ready to take a bit out of that damn page.

He nearly misses the inscription underneath the photo;

To my John; the love of my life, the man of my dreams,

I love you.

You hold my heart and you will forever.

May I be so lucky to find my place in the stars by your side when the time comes, so we'll never have to be apart.

With all my love,

Mrs. Price

And that does it. The album snaps shut and you barely have time to put down your wine glass before John is all over you, taking handfuls of you, whatever he can reach. With how fast he smashes his lips on yours, he nearly gives you whiplash.

He's tugging and pulling at your clothes as well as his own, not saying a thing, just hungrily swallowing every one of your sounds and giggled objections before he decides the couch is uncomfortable and he moves you to the bedroom. You're hoisted up without a warning and you cling to his neck. Immediately, worried words start spilling from your lips, remembering how he'd complained about a sore back just today;

"John, baby, your back-"

"I don't give a flying fuck about my back, love."

He's heaving and grunting like a fucking animal, he's downright feral. Despite all of that, you're still laid down gently on the bed, John would never, ever be reckless with you. But he needs to be inside you now, he'll actually lose his mind.

Usually, he'd spent hours between your thighs first, but he just can't wait. He's pounding you into another dimension but with such gentleness in his gestures, it makes your head spin.

He's holding your hand, breathing sweet praises into your ear despite him filling you to the brim. His urge to claim you goes haywire and he fills you with his cum multiple times before he's sane enough again.

He's covered in sweat and his beard is wet from your spit from all the sloppy kisses he gave you. John will definitely make it up to you and eat you out for as long as you want after.

He'll make a copy of one of the photos and take it with him when he's on deployment, just for the nights he's feeling lonely.

His wedding gift to you are the hickeys on your thighs and tummy and new sheets because you two tore the other ones to absolute shreds.

♥︎

Johnny would probably have a boudoir album for you, too. You get at least one shirtless pic a day, so a whole album of his body on display or in suggestive poses basically screams Johnny. He's already drooling the second he spots that book because he knows what it is and that he's in for a treat.

He's buzzing with excitment.

You never really send nudes for privacy reasons, and then for you to do something like this hit him like a truck in the best way possible. You're standing opposite from him behind the kitchen counter, and you look so nervous to him.

Cue his signature shit-eating grin. You tap your fingers on the dark blue album before having enough of your nerves and just sliding it over to him with a few mumbled words of what it is.

"Awe, for me, mo leannan?" He's a teasing bastard, and he chuckles when you huff and turn your head, obviously flustered. Johnny is legit licking his lips, but when he opens the book, his grin fades so fast.

He knew it would be good, but holy shit, this was so much better than he expected. His pupils dilate as he takes in each of the pictures of you, all of you, all your curves and bumps.

Everything he loves about you. God, you're such a woman, he thinks to himself. Some with lingerie, some without. He's full on drooling at this point, and the only reason why he roughly wipes it away with the back of his hand is to not get it on these sacred images.

He smirks at the picture of you in a tub, all soapy, with pebbled nipples. An obvious dig at his nickname, but, god, does your ass look amazing when it's covered in a thin layer of bubbles. He loves lathering you up in the shower and feeling you up while you're all wet and slippery.

"Good thing I can hold my breath, aye, hen? Might even try to set a new personal record." He's grinning and chuckling meanwhile you give him a sharp glare. You can't deny that the idea intrigues you, though.

But this, oh, this one was him swallowing thickly. It's you in very sheer panties (they're barely even underwear) and his name patch is sewn onto the front. Your hair looks so nice, so do your thighs, he doesn't know whether to look at your eyes or your tits. The button on his jeans is about to pop off from his throbbing boner.

He can't take his eyes off that 'MacTavish' patch that sits right on your lower belly, with the slight curve it has to it from your soft tummy.

Johnny has to hold himself back from gripping the book too hard. He wouldn't want to ruin it.

"Steamin' bloody Jesus, bonnie..."

The album is shut and tucked under his arm, and Johnny jumps over the counter to get his hands on you. Or his mouth, more like. He has a huge oral fixation, so he loves sucking and biting on every inch of your skin. You're pushed back into the bedroom, even though you end up on the floor, and the book is thrown onto the bed.

He rips your shirt up and sucks at your tits and nipples, groaning and moaning at the taste of your skin, all while he's rubbing his clothes cock against your leg. You end up on your hands and knees with one of Johnny's hands on your lowerback while his face is buried in your cunt.

He's eating you out like he's been starved for years, and his stubble is already starting to irritate the skin of your thighs and ass.

You'll have the worst case of beard burn in the morning, but how could you care about that when his tongue is so deep inside of you?

Remember when I said he'd have a boudoir album too? Yeah, now you're in between his legs, your back pressed to his chest with Johnny's album in your shaky hands. And the way your engagement ring catches the dim light of the room has your eyes rolling back.

And Jesus christ, Johnny looks fucking phenomal. You clench around his fingers hard, and he doesn't even have to pull his head from your neck to know what photo you're looking at.

He's smirking and grinning like the ceshire cat, knowing that the image of him in a kilt with no shirt one is gracing your field of vision right about now.

"Ah knew ye'd like tha' one, bonnie..."

Johnny's cooing in your ear, telling you to keep looking at the pictures while he's knuckle deep in your pussy. His bare dick is pressed against your ass and you can feel him rocking his hips to get off.

He's mumbling all kinds of gibberish into your ear, but one of the few things you can make out is "mo bhean"* which pushes you over the edge. You won't be leaving that bed anytime soon.

*(My wife)

♥︎

Kyle is such a sweetheart. I've said it before, and I will say it again, he's such a cutie pie!!! But that doesn't mean he can't or won't get nasty.

He'd offered to make lunch, which was delicious as always, and now you're chatting casually about your day at your dining table. Your fingers are laced together, and he's wearing the biggest smile because all he can think of is how he gets to marry you in just a few days.

He's over the moon. He can't wait to see you walk down the aisle, say your vows to each other, and overall have a great time with all your friends and family.

But the thing Kyle is looking forward the most is the honeymoon. He'll have you to himself for 2 whole weeks and he's stoked. He can't wait to treat you to nice things, love on you, but he's the most excited to fuck you as your husband.

He may look sweet and 'innocent' but this man can fuck, okay. And he fucks well. He knows every little spot that has you mewling and he's so good at using them for his gain.

Kyle will fuck you into the mattress in the Hotel you booked, he's already made up his mind about that, but he wants to absolutely melt your brain by being so loving whole doing it that you can't help but cry out for him.

He has heart eyes at this point, watching you talk about all that happened today and he only snaps out of his dream world when you present the deep red album to him with a sweet smile.

He's got a hunch of what it is so there's a hint of a smirk on his lips. Still, he almost gets whiplash when he opens it.

There's no easing into it, just straight up tits, ass and tummy. And let me tell you, Kyle is loving every second of it. It's no secret that he loves your chub, and that fact that it's extenuated so beautifully in every shot makes his heart and his cock happy. He's a very balanced man after all.

He comments on every single photo because he think it's endearing how you get all flustered and giggly from his compliments.

One picture that has him taking a second, though, is one where you have a lacy band tied around your thigh, with a little golden 'Kyle' charm hanging from it. He's all smiley and giddy, but he does try to discreet adjust his trousers because, holy shit, that's hot.

"Have you still got that, dove? Would love to see it tied around your pretty neck."

All you answer is that he'll have to be patient and wait till the wedding night to find out. He's laughing and teasing now, but just what till you get to the last page, Gazy.

And the way his smile just melts off his face is priceless. His gaze is flitting between you on the page and you sitting across from him with a shot eating grin. All the blood that drained from his face went straight to his dick.

Not only are you wearing a set of lingerie in his favorite color, but you've got his iconic pair of sunglasses hooked on the center of your bra. And that's not all either, his eyes travel upwards and his base cap is sat on your head and you've got that beautiful smile of yours on your face.

He makes an audible noise, one that indicates you took his breath away, when he takes in the whole picture.

"How in hell did you manage to snatch my hat and my glasses from right under my nose?!"

"Skilled hands, babe."

He's laughing at you breathlessly because he's still enarmoured by the sight of you.

And Kyle will absolutely whisk you away and fuck you stupid in front of your bedroom mirror while you're wearing his hat.

It makes him feral, seeing you like that. He's got both of his arms wrapped around your middle and he's panting into your shoulder. He does look up from time to time to see your blissed out face all while still wearing his cap.

He lets out a strained moan everytime he looks at you in the mirror and his hips stutter ever so slightly.

Kyle is just spewing jumbled words of love because he's genuinely so happy. You make him so happy.

He honestly can't wait to give you your wedding gift. It's a little booklet filled with poems or quotes that reminded him of you, or of how you make him feel. And it will make you cry when he reads them to you.

Definitely not because he'll be ballsdeep inside of you while doing so...

♥︎

Simon, Simon, Simon.... first of all, he's completely blindsided by this. And he hasn't got a fucking clue what's in that black book you hand him one night when you're cuddling in bed.

There's just a giant question mark above his head. When you tell him it's a wedding gift, he goes silent and just looks at that album in his hands.

He never really got gifts, which obviously changed since he's been with you, but he's still not used to it. You're so thoughtful. And sweet. And kind, and perfect and-

he turns his head to you when you softly call his name and if you notice the slight sheen of tears in his big brown eyes, you don't mention it. You just encourage him to open the book. And when he does, a small huff and gentle smile leave him because how are you so perfect?

Yes, all of the pictures are all filthy, but they're all radiating of love and softness, and he can't get over it. How are you so soft? Simon can't get enough of you. You mess up his emotions in ways he never thought possible, and he can't help that his heart starts beating twice as fast.

That you did this for him means more than you could ever fathom, and he'll treasure this album until his end. He absent mindedly reaches for your hand as he flips through the pages, trying to tell you thank you when his words fail him, like they did so many times before with you.

He comes across a shot of your neck, a black leather collared fasten around it with a little silver skull charm. It makes him smile just a bit. He knows just how much meaning is behind it.

That you love him. All of him, which includes the Ghost. In cursive, 'Riley' is written right above your heart, and he gives your hand a squeeze.

Although you love the Ghost because it's a part of him, you've shown him that it's not all he is. That Simon is enough. That he should give Simon a chance and that he's not incapable anymore, like he was as a little boy. Ghost is sort of a protector of Simon, something not many people know, that's why he wears the mask outside of duty too. To shield himself.

But as much as the Ghost's service is appreciated, Simon can handle himself now. The Ghost will forever be with him, but so will you, and you'll wipe his bloody hands with a smile. You've shown him that you accept Ghost just as much as you accept Simon, and that means the world to him.

He sniffles ever so quietly, and you lean your head against his shoulder, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He moves on, gently turning the pages, and as much as his heart is touched by your kind gesture of this album, that doesn't stop his cock from stirring. It's pictures of your naked form, after all.

He loves every single inch of you and he's told you and shown you so many times, kissed all your insecurities away and took your mind off any bad thoughts about yourself by fucking you so well and lovingly to the point of tears.

Never, in a million years, had he expected you to return these efforts. You kissed all his scars and held him softly when reassuring any doubts he had. That's when he truly and fully fell in love with you.

He can feel himself getting hotter with every passing image of your soft body bent in different positions and clad in delicate garments, if any.

The best for last, as always, and it's a picture of you kneeling in front of a mirror, completely nude. A picture of Simon in full military regalia is tapped to the mirror and it's surrounded by a bunch of hearts drawn on with lipstick.

His name is written under the picture in your handwriting, and he can see you holding a lipstick, in the middle of finishing another heart. His breath hitches just for a split second.

He swears he'll burn this photo into the back of his eyelids.

It shows him just how great and raw your love for him is, and it makes him all fuzzy on the inside. The text at the bottom finishes it all off, and he's actively holding back tears, overwhelmed by so many feelings for you.

Dear Husband,

We're flawed; but that's how I like us. You're you, and I'm me, and I wouldn't change it for the world. You've made me a better version of myself, and that makes me love you so much more. I'm so proud of you, Simmy.

Love,

Your wife

"Thank you, my love. Thank you for this, and for loving me and for everything you've done for me. I love you"

His words are soft and painfully honest as he gently sets the album aside. You've made him a better man. A better Simon. A happier Simon. A Simon that's slowly starting to heal.

It starts off with a soft kiss that slowly turns more desperate and needy to the point you're gently being pushed back onto the bed, your clothes are discarded, and Simon absolutely worships you. He kisses every inch he can reach and touching you in all the ways he knows you like.

And, yeah, Simon can be rough and fuck you stupid for hours, but tonight, he just wants to feel close to you, and make you feel as good as you make him feel by simply loving him. He's talking you through it, holding you while he makes sure you take every inch of his cock.

His strokes are slow and deep, just like his love for you, and he revels in the way your eyes roll back each time he slides into you to the hilt. The drag of his dick against your walls has you moaning and whining, and when he presses down on your pudgy lower belly to intensify the sensation, you're putty.

You two fuck the whole night like this, no matter how sensitive you are, you need to be close to each other.

And in the morning, he'll wake you up with his face buried in your pussy because he's out of his sappy mood and his only goal now is to absolutely ruin you.

♡

Bonus: I can totally see Simon giving his dad the biggest middle finger known to man all the way in hell when he's standing by the altar on your wedding day. It just screams: 'fuck you, stupidly bastard. Despite all you've done to me and my family, despite all that's happened, I've persevered. I've overcome it all. Look at me now.'

Right after he's smiling up at the sky, knowing that his mum and brother are watching and that they would've loved you just as much as he does <3

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

I hope you enjoyed!! I love all my boys <3

(If you find any typos, it's 2.am. give me a break pls)

[bunnyreaper]

you don't have much of a choice, forced to marry john mactavish to keep yourself safe. luckily, he will look after you, even on your wedding night.

(18+/MDNI, historical wedding night fun)

the door closing behind you has you trapped in the room, the situation. your only comfort is that you know john mactavish to be a thoroughly decent man, despite the swirling rumours of his scottish barbarism and foul highlander ways. 

you sit before the mirror, staring back at the beautiful hair and makeup done for you by the ladies of the castle in preparation for your nuptials, as john makes his way over to you. he gently, hesitantly, rests his rough, large hands on the exposed parts of your shoulders, and his new ring sparkles in the soft candlelight.

"john." you sigh your new husband's name, your eyes fluttering shut as relief floods through you at his touch. the night will bring with it challenges, but you can't think of a better man in all the highlands to be wed to.

"i know, bonnie. i wish it were nae under such circumstances." he whispers, expression soft as he squeezes you gently, forcing the tension out of your shoulders. he leans down, pressing the gentlest of kisses to the top of your head. "we can take it slow, we've go' all night." 

"i know, thank you." you bring your hand up to hold his, your matching ring so close to its counterpart. you squeeze back his hand in the hopes of offering some semblance of comfort in return. whilst john is a warrior, physically and mentally strong, but you've at least seen him vulnerable enough to know there's something eating at him too--and your instincts cry out at you to soothe him too. "it's not... for lack of wanting you. i want you very much. i'd just hoped we could ease into it." 

once more, he brushes the top of his lips across your head, before he slowly coaxes you to your feet. his fingers trail from your bare shoulders, down the silky material of your sleeves until they come to grasp at your waist. 

"we will. ill take care of ye." he whispers, voice beyond soft. 

you wish you could tell him you'll take care of him, too, but the tightening of your chest makes it tricky to usher forth even a whisper. you turn in your newly-wed husband's embrace, embracing his thick, muscular arms and rubbing them soothingly. 

it's you who initiates the kiss, the first one since you said your vows, and were tied together in matrimony. it's soft and gentle and sweet, at least at first. as your lips tremble against john's, and his grip around you tightens, the embers within you roar to life--hot like the coals in your chamber's fireplace. 

the passion that rips through you both consumes you--sensual, tender touches yet tinged with overwhelming need. one kiss turns to another, turns to desperately gripping at each other's finery until it falls away, revealing parts of yourself previously unseen to the other. 

you'd seen your now-husband shirtless many a time, seen the celtic knots inked into his biceps, his clan motto on his chest--but in the dim light and knowing you get to touch him freely, you start to take on a new appreciation. 

his hands touch reverently across each new piece of skin you bare to him, or he bares to himself, as he tears away your clothes like the hazard they are. it's not long before he has you completely revealed to him, and he kisses you breathless in response to the overwhelming love and lust inside him. 

he maneuvers you to the bed, laying you down with such care before climbing atop. when his hard cock brushes against the top of your mound, you cry out in both pleasure and trepidation.

johnny must easily sense your discomfort, as he pulls away from you with a concerned, caring look in his eyes, along with a reassuring smile on his lips. "dinnae worry, i'm nervous too." his knuckles brush softly over your cheek.  

"you are?" you ask, voice soft as you stare up at him. 

"aye." he nods, his smile turning a little awkward, a little bashful. while you've seen him burdened and raw, you've never seen him nervous. "ive no' been wit' a woman properly before." 

his admission stuns you. john mactavish is a gorgeous man inside and out, respected in his clan, and yet has a reputation for being good with the ladies. it never bothered you, as you knew truly he was loyal to his core, but such a confession from him takes you entirely by surprise.

"not from lack of opportunity, surely." you try your best to be light-hearted, to put him at ease. your own nerves, trepidation and inexperience with the act were a given--but john's could be perceived by others, and likely to him, as a threat to his masculinity. 

he trusted you with it regardless. 

he huffs out a laugh at your gentle teasing, dipping down to press a few kisses to your neck.

"appreciate yer kind words. but ah, i ken i wanted to save myself, only give tha' part of me to ma wife." the words cause something to surge through him, his hips bucking as the head of his cock nudges against your clit and sends you both reeling. your eyes flutter shut for a moment, and when they reopen, the look in john's eyes is completely feral. 

he pins you with a look you couldn't turn away from if you tried, and his hand gripping your chin leaves no room for debate. "marriage of convenience or no', you are ma wife." 

his wife.

the words alone make you shiver and quake, but your husband takes the opportunity to roam his hands down your body, lower and lower until thick fingertips find your aching clit. 

you're completely transfixed as your eyes drop down, watching the way his rough hand works against your softness, pulling pleasure from your body that aches for release. 

hot, open-mouthed kisses start to accompany his touches, working their way down your body until his mouth is hovering just inches away from your slit--taunting you with what's to come. 

you squirm wildly, trying to chase the wet heat of your husband's mouth and to finally have it on your clit, but he simply smirks, remains steadfast and steadies you with a firm grip. 

"please." a whine rips from your throat, as you've never felt such need before in your life. you thought you'd felt riled up watching john fight, work the horses, chop wood--but seeing him between your legs ready to eat you like a man starved drove you completely wild.

as a dutiful husband, he couldn't deny you any longer, lips settling against your most sensitive spot, pressing tender kisses to you. 

it feels too good, and yet still not enough. your fingers thread in his hair, try to tug him in deeper. "please john, I just need you... inside." 

he seems to ignore your pleading, mouth sinking back into your folds and immediately sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body. then he pulls away for a moment, staring at your pretty lips in awe before he growls. "the lady consents, but i willnae sink my cock in ye until ye weeping for me too."

[aemondwhoresworld]

WITH WIRED

pairing: ewan mitchell x fem!reader

summary: in which ewan and y/n doing their first interview as newlywed with wired

words-count: 1,3k

warning: fluff, maybe abit cliché?, use of y/n, ewan and y/n being a newlywed couple, reader is quite sensitive, does not have any specific descriptions about y/n and ewan's appearance.

mae: english is not my first language, i do used google translate a few part in this one-shot. also this is my 2nd fic, im a long time reader but im a new writer, haven’t wrote any long imagines before. please forgive me if there was any mistakes. thank u!! maybe a part 2? idk

ASK | SUBMIT A POST | ARCHIVE

you and ewan had the opportunity to meet each other at a new movie premiere few years ago, at the event ewan participated as the main actor and you were a guest invited by the director of that movie.

at first you were quite hesitant about being the one to make a first move to go over to talk to ewan, people would wonder what was the reason? well of course, because you’re attracted by ewan’s charming appearance, but also by how the way he treated his colleagues, or anyone he met.

and then today, at this moment, you both received an invitation from wired to come here for an interview as newlyweds… yes, ewan and you have been married for 3 months now and both are extremely excited for the upcoming interview

it can be said that since you got married, or to be more precise, since the announced, the news has caused the fan community to react extremely positively, of course, negatively as well. yes but mostly positive

—

and 3… 2… 1… the interview begin, camera start rolling

"hi! this is y/n, y/n mitchell" you introduced yourself with a small smile while looking at the camera, then raised your left hand to show off your wedding ring you were wearing on your ring finger at the same time you look over at ewan, ewan now looked at you with this “husband proud smiley” smile

“and, i’m ewan mitchell, husband of this beautiful woman sitting next to me” ewan introduced himself, and then he repeated the same gesture as you, at this moment you heard a few people behind the camera, giggling and enjoying themselves

“we're here with WIRED, answering the most asked questions on google” ewan continued

“but newlywed edition” you and ewan both said at the same time

then a staff member brought out a large copy, with the questions partially hidden. you were now extremely nervous, then turned to look at him and asked softly.

“are you ready to answer these questions” you asked

“always” said and then ewan smiled slightly

"okay, first question for you my dear" you said and then gently pulled the sticky note off with your hand to make the question appear, then you continued to read

“how did ewan and y/n meet?” you read the question, then looked up at ewan and continued, "hmm, do you remember how we met, husband?" you asked ewan

“how could i forget it, the first time we ever met” ewan said while looking at you smiling, he sat thinking for a moment then he continued

"y/n and i met at this movie premiere, well… i was the main character, actor and she was invited by this great movie director, john, as a friend" ewan said, then used his hand to stroke his chin and continued. “while i was you know doing those interview, i saw her was looking at me so after the premier, we have like a little after party, i was just enjoying myself you know…” he laugh “erm.. and i-i saw this pretty lady slowly walking towards my direction and started conversation with me, and after a few minutes of talking, i thought wow she’s kinda nice to talk to, yeah.. that's… that’s how we met” and now you just sit there and giggled, flashing back all of those memories the first time you met him

“great job husband, it's so surprise to know that you still remember the first time we met, cause you never mention it ever since” you laughed and then continued “you know, to be able to date this guy, ewan mitchell, it's really a journey for me. to be mrs. mitchell is a long way" as you said, you used your thumb to point at ewan. at this time, ewan just looked helpless and shrugged his shoulders

from where you sit, you can clearly see the surprised faces of the staff member behind the camera about the fact that how hard it is to get close to him

“it's your turn” you said as ewan tore lightly to see the next question

“are ewan and y/n expecting?” Both you and ewan seemed quite surprised after hearing this question

“really, is this really the most asked question?” you laughed and giggled, “asked google?! this is crazy” you were extremely surprised by this question

“well y/n and ewan ARE NOT expecting… yet, and if we are, we will definitely announce it and share the joy with you guys so there is no need to ask mr google” you laughed, then you tuck your hair behind your ear

“we are not planning on having baby anytime soon and yes we do talk about it more often now since we’re married, you know we both love to build a family of our own but we both think this is not the right time” ewan said, you nodded with agreement with that ewan said

“next question” you looked at ewan, saying “oh i see this question seems long, it might be quite interesting!”

“the question is, have ewan and y/n ever been in a movie together?” you read the question, then you both looked at each other, you asked ewan “we talked about this a few times, aren’t we?”

“oh we literally talked about it yesterday before bed too…“ ewan chuckled then he continue “even though we have never worked together on any movie before, but we both talk about hoping that in the future we will have the opportunity to work together” ewan explained.

“yea…, there's a funny thing that if we both have the opportunity to be act in the same movie, we’ll both hope to be each other's villains” you laughed then ewan continued.

“you know, it's funny when viewers hear y/n and me's names and they might immediately think we're going to play happy married couple but no, there is not lovey dovey birds”

“but i think it's quite interesting, don't you guys think so too?” you turned to look at the camera in front of you, asking the people whom watching (after this interview video was posted).

“I'll let you answer this last question, baby” you said then let ewan remove the last sticky note to read the last question for today's interview.

“how have ewan and y/n enjoyed their marriage life so far?” ewan continued reading the last question and then he continued to answer

“who would ask this question on Google? how would Google know?” ewan replied

and you both sit there and laugh like an idiot because of how stupid this question is. really, how can Google know what your and ewan's married life is like? You laugh until you cry because of the absurdity of it

“how was it, my husband?” you asked ewan with a curious expression, wonder if he liked married life with you or not, making ewan partly amused and partly pampered, looking towards you, while you sat there patiently waiting his answer

“honestly, i am extremely happy and enjoy this married life with my wife. in short, i’m extremely satisfied, i mean who wouldn't, when you marry the person you love, so do i and especially y/n always makes me feel like i’m the luckiest man is marry to y/n, the woman i love the most" ewan replied a bit shyly because you know he rarely shows affection in front of the camera or in public

“ewan, you're going to make me cry” you smiled and used your hand to gently wipe away the happy tears at the corner of your eyes.

ewan then turned to see you so moved and pulled out a small handkerchief from his pocket and wiped your tears.

“i love you” ewan whispered to you while wipe the tear off your eye but he didn't know that the microphone attached to his shirt caught his all his words.

“i love you too but we have to say goodbye to the audience watching this interview first” you said to ewan and then burst out a small laughed

“and these are all the most asked questions on google” you said with excitement again, turning to look at ewan

“thank you WIRED for inviting us, and see you next time” ewan said “goodbye” both you and ewan raised your hands and waved to the audience

WIRED just made post

liked by y/nmitchell and others

wired #EwanMitchell and #Y/nMitchell Answer Most Asked Question On Google (Newlywed Edition)

Now available on WIRED! check out the link on bio

tagged: y/nmitchell

View comments

user1 cannot believe they haven’t had any movies together. that’s a need

user2 my fav couple

user3 i can feels ewan head over heels for her, like even more than before

user4 his eyes always had this bling bling whenever he look at her

[hughiecampbelle]

Supe Preference: How They Propose

Requested: I know you already did a preference with how they propose but please please please do this with the supes! I think it would be amazing. thank you thank you thank you ♥️♥️♥️ - anon

A/N: I hope you like it my love!!! This was so fun to write, I love exploring their characters!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💕

Homelander makes sure he's got a crowd with his supporters when he pulls out a ring and gets on one knee, asking you to marry him. There are cameras and reporters there, too. They will run stories about the most powerful man in the world finding his one true love, the sparkle in his eyes when he looks at you, the faulter in his voice when he asks you. Everyone who saw it for themselves says it was the most romantic speech they've ever heard. This will do great for his public support and image. His fans are all about traditional values. Homelander staying a bachelor makes his fans antsy, nervous, like he can't settle down. Now he's doing that. You, John, and Ryan will be the perfect little family. An instant family, actually. People cheer and whistle and cry. You say yes, because there is no other choice. And you hug and kiss, and he directs you were to look and what questions to answer like when the wedding will be or the color palette you'll choose. He makes jokes and quips that everyone laughs at.

The Deep asks you to marry him on television. You were placed together because you have fantastic ratings, and he could use a little boost in the public eye. You haven't been "dating" for very long but, as he puts it in his speech, he doesn't need to have known you for a long time to know that you're the one for him. You smile, and even she'd a few tears before putting the ring on and kissing him. You're not actually getting married, at least not legally, but Ashley already has color swatches and flowers and venues. It'll be the wedding of the century. You make sure, behind closed doors, he doesn't get the wrong idea. You put on a good act. You're smart and stunning, and you could have any Supe you want. When the inevitable divorce happens, you'll come out the better for it. Interviews, book deals, and talk shows. You'll ruin him. You just have to get through the next few months without any hiccups. You have to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid or vulgar. That, in itself, is a full-time job. You talk through grit teeth in your smile, telling him not to fuck this up for you.

A-Train does it out of desperation. You and Reggie were high school sweethearts. You were together when he was let in the The Seven, and you've stayed with him through every bump in the road. When things with Homelander get really tough, really scary, Reggie pops the question. It's not the most romantic drive for the proposal, but if anything ever happened to him because of Vought and Homelander he wants you to have access to everything he'd leave behind. All the money, the deals, everything. You can only get that through marriage. He loves you, he's loved you forever, but he does this not solely out of love. He can't. This decision is too big and has too much weight. He has to protect you, to save you from what he's had to deal with. You don't know any of this about the engagement though, so you say yes, proclaiming it one of the happiest days of your life. You understand some of the tension, but Reggies too afraid to go into detail. You'd worry too much. He can't do that to you.

Maeve blurts it out during a fight. You're tired of being hidden. You're tired of keeping things so low-key, rescheduling because she has to go play house with Homelander. You're both yelling at one another when she asks you if you want to marry her. Of course you do, you say, angry that she would think anything different. Then let's get married, she yells. Fine! She storms off into the linen closet where the small box sits between two towels. You hated them and said they were too scratchy. You never would have looked there. She hands it to you, and when you open it, you're speechless. You always said things about jewelery in passing: silver or gold, the cuts you like, the gems if diamonds aren't your thing. You're angry and then you're not. It's a lot to think about (knowing you and Maggie could never go public, it would put you and her in far too much danger) and yet, the answer is so clear. Yes. Yes you want to spend the rest of your life with her. That's all you've ever wanted.

Firecracker asks you live on her show. You always knew she'd want to include her fans. They're a big part of her life, her popularity, and a huge reason why she's even part of The Seven. Her audience has heard stories about you from the beginning. They heard all about your first date, how cute she thought you were. It's only right they be included in this. So, under the idea that you're doing an interview about being in a relationship with one of The Seven members, you agree. When she asks you, you're speechless. Everyone is cheering and whistling. Of course it's a yes! That episode of her show goes pretty viral. Some of her fans are upset and turn on her, but for the most part they're all happy you're now engaged. Ashley is happy, too. Misty's ratings haven't been great as of late, but this stunt makes her a fan favorite all over again. Her audience agrees with the traditional values of marriage, family, etc.

Soldier Boy always wanted to get married, settle down with a white pickett fence, and a couple of kids. He certainly thought it would have been sooner than this, but he's still young, and he wouldn't have found you if everything hadn't happened. Still, it's been on his mind. He sees you with him in that house, with those kids. There's one thing to be grateful for out of all this. Ben isn't a huge romantic. You're not expecting rose petals and candles. Instead, he rolls over in bed one lazy morning and pops the question. You think he's joking, saying that's not funny when it's something you wanted forever. He's serious, though. He's got the ring and everything. It takes you a minute to realize this is all real. Of course, you say yes! When you do, he attacks you in kisses, grinning from ear to ear. You go out and celebrate, drinking until the room spins, telling anyone who will listen that you're getting married.

Sister Sage comes to you with a list of pros and cons. Some are big, like the commitment of marriage and the issues behind the traditional values. Others are relatively small to you, like the number of books she'd bring with her when you got a place together. You and Sage have been together a long time. You know she has thousands of books, you know she's thoughtful about everything except her own messiness, her own chaos. It's up to you to decide. She leaves her list with you, but before she can step through the door you're already saying yes, explaining your feelings about the whole situation. You love her. You know she has faults, God knows you have yours. And she still loves you not despite them, but because of them. She wasn't really expecting you to say yes, at least so immediately, so you'll have to wait on the ring. It was the easiest yes of your life.

[pricetagged]

The usual from me, I'm afraid. I'm back at my nonsense, typing up wife-hunter John while I take a break from tidying my apartment (: Here's part iii! (there will be more reader/john in part iv )

Masterlist l Previous

Content: More stalking, manipulation, voyeurism & marital sabotage. John's a bad man and I want him viscerally <3

----------------------

It tears at him, rends flesh from bone with sharp little teeth. Corrugated. Rusty. It poisons his bloodstream, boils blood to madness and burns to feverish pitch.

It's a trap of his own design, and he just had to poke at it. He set it up, jaw wrenched wide and trigger taut and, god, he had to touch it. Had to feel the bruising pleasure bloom then give to something sharper. Sweeter.

In his more reflective moments he wonders if setting up the cameras was a good idea. He's a possessive old bastard and he's torn; not because of any hand-wringing morals, no. No, but rather that he's left himself licking along the knife's edge, close enough for it to cut if he presses hard. He can touch it. It's in his grasp, but he's not fully confident that he's the only one wielding it.

There are too many variables still.

And it's left him here, testing the pressure of the razor-sharp rim and wanting to dig deeper. (He fisted at himself harder than usual that night, flesh aching and engorged and throbbing as the cold metal of your wedding ring bit at the veins and ridges of his length).

The screen is his most hated ally. Pixels and light; the blue sheen. The static blur that raises the hair on his arms as he caresses your image. It's the sweetest torture, watching you boxed in by the four corners of a machine. Gazing on only the impression of you, shadowy and reflective, pacing the monitor. It's peiskos, but wrong. He has you in his home, but can only see and touch you in artificial impotence. It drives him wild, makes his throat ache and his head hot watching you, but not knowing how you taste.

That's not him, he thinks, having something that he can't fully possess. Even the bottle of 1926 Macallan locked in his cellaret has been cracked open, rolled around the palate and savoured before returned to the shelf. Locked safe behind glass, yes, but within reach.

He has to see you again. The trap is tightening, and isn't it funny that it's caught him too?

(His hand moved faster, pleasure simmering as he watched your wide eyes turn glossy and your voice grow thick. 'I don't know where it went! It must have fallen off in the garden, I swear!' Even being unable to taste it, to lick at your tears and feel you tremble-

-it had him tensing his thighs, body clenching in anger and heat as he listened to your apologies. As he listened to your pathetic, half-hearted moans. The way you gave in so sweetly, so eager to please and make good. Your husband's disgusting, breathy grunting. Weak. Unsatisfying-

-But it had his palm tightening around the tacky, swollen flesh at his tip. Slit leaking as the rage boiled his blood and sent it south in a paroxysm of rapture).

He sees Buck before he sees you. It's a necessary evil. No, that's not quite right. It's inevitable; it's reasonable. He needs to lay the bait, shuffle the leaves over it and let nature take its course.

It's a classic pub. A real boozer, where the floor is always slickly sticky and the walls are a cheery, tobacco-stained yellow. The kind of place that serves only pork scratchings and pints.

Your husband didn't expect to see him there. Fox in the henhouse, only he's too stupid to realise that he's the bird.

"System is running well, mate! Thanks. This round's on me," he claps at John's shoulder and does admirably well at hiding his nerves.

It has him smiling into the pint glass, schadenfreude as your husband subtly stretches his aching palm and paints on a wary smile.

(Foot hovering just above the spring; steel teeth ready to -)

"You here alone?" John sips at his drink, eyes scanning the dingy room until - yes, there in the corner he sees a familiar Union Jack cap. Good lad.

"No, no. My mates have just left. Like to linger, you know, for the company," he sends a wink to some pretty thing nursing a G&T by the window.

"Not enough company at home?" he tries to make it light, hoping that the gravel in his tone could be mistaken for interest. And it is, really, if prey drive could count as mere 'interest'.

Buck scoffs, rolling his eyes in a way that looks a lot like rolling belly-up. 'Tell me I'm a real man, look at me! I've got the pick of the flock'. "You know how it is. Gets boring, fishing in the same hole all the time, eh?"

"I wouldn't know," he hums, eyebrows drawn low in faux-consideration. Meets him dead in the eye, lets the mask drop for a just a second. Let's the words come out flat and dangerous. "I've never had a problem reeling in what I want."

The words linger, settling heavy and awkward in a way that has him licking his teeth. Tension so thick he can chew it, feel the fat and gristle rend under the strength of his jaw. It's heady watching the way your husband flounders, not sure how to react until the pack leader backs up and loosens the canines at his nape. Lets him breathe. It's a joke, really. Go on. Laugh. And he follows suit so easily. It's almost boring, he thinks, with eyes cold and muscles frozen under his fake smile as he watches the man chuckle.

"You've gotta stay, Price, that's a good one. One more drink, c'mon." Funny. He thinks that it's his right to give orders. He thinks that John's staying at his command.

John taps twice at the foamy rim of the glass. Catches his sergeant's eye from across the room. "Sure, why not."

It's time.

It's masterful, really, how well Gaz slips over. Greets Buck like an old friend. Drops hints and in-jokes that have the man chuckling along as his eyes flit about with confusion.

"Can't believe I've run into you, here. I thought I'd seen the last of you when you moved house, what, a year ago?" Kyle slides into the barstool on the left. Boxes him in, piggy in the middle. "Still with that finance company?"

"Yeah, yeah it's been a while," he trails off. Too proud to admit that he doesn't know Gaz. Has never met the man. John can feel the way his eyes keep flicking towards the side of his face. Needy. Histrionic.

"You lads catch up, have fun. I'm away for the night," he sets the empty glass at the bar with a soft thud. Makes a show of introducing himself to Gaz and waving the two of them off.

In the cool air of the smoking area he has a moment of fika. Cars roll by on a distant road. The muffled sound of laughter and murmuring filters through frosted pub windows. The rich, heavy smoke of his cigar swirls around and around until he's closing his eyes in the haze. It's slow, calming, and he takes a moment just to appreciate the hand that he's about to play.

He thumbs over the smudged screen of your husband's phone. Only 2 missed calls and 1 text.

>>Sorry to go on at you, but you said you were finishing work at 5 today. It's nearly 8 now. Can you at least let me know where you are? We were going to start that series tonight and I've been getting worried waiting for you :/

Poor, sweet thing. Polite, too. All love and care wasted on the pathetic, juvenile lump slumped over the bar right now. 

(It whets his appetite, seeing how well-trained you are. How you toe the line, defer to the farcical rules set out for you in your relationship. 'Stay at home. Don't blow up my phone.'

Would you come to heel for him? If a weak, useless hand could shape you so well, what could a strong one do?)

<< Sorry, baby. I goty caugtht up at the pub w some friends. HAd a few drInks. Cmome and get me? [LOCATION SHARED]

He flicks the stub of the cigar away as he pockets the phone.

Curtains up; show about to begin.

He settles into his seat, a well-worn booth. Threadbare, stained upholstery and faded coasters. It's shadowy here, tucked away in the corner but offering a perfect line of sight to the door. And right by that very door is Gaz, your husband, and the pretty thing from earlier.

The bell jingles; wind whistles in.

Gaz lets his grip slip, lets your husband slump in the seat until his head is resting against the neck of the woman he was chatting up. Fingers inching up her thighs as she laughs and flirts back.

"What..?" it's too noisy in here to hear you, but he's listened to your voice over and over. He knows just how your pitch is rising. The slight crack on the final consonant.

You stand, face screwed up as you try to make sense of the situation. But two plus two can only ever equal four, and your husband's hands up a skirt can only ever equal- 

"Hi, gorgeous. Here to meet someone?" his sergeant grins up at you. Plays the charmer so well. "Got an empty seat with us, if you fancy it."

There's a little bitterness cutting at the furl of your lips. You're holding it in so well but, god, the words must burn, coming out like bile. "What, sure that I'm not interrupting something?"

"No, no. He said he's just having a little fun. Said he wants something warm before he goes home to his bitch wife," Gaz chuckles, leaning towards you like he wants to whisper a secret. "Bit sick of hearing his complaining, if I'm honest. Makes her sound like a right harpy. But you could take my mind off it."

"Not sure about that," he sees the way your chest hitches. Sees the sob that you swallow down as you steel your expression. "I am the 'bitch wife'."

And it's magnificent. Kyle's played his part so well; stuck to the script like he's performing at The Globe. An ad-lib here, an improvisation there. He hands you a napkin, rubs at your shoulder as he looms over the treacherous tableau he fashioned for an audience of two. You, and John. Ache and Hunger; betrayal and mastery. He maneuvers you, keeps you from causing a bigger scene as he hauls your husband by the scruff of his jacket. Choreographs the steps so that John can see every last microcosm on the universe of your face.

It's his set, his design. He's the architect, director, and audience all in one.

(And that foolish, stupid player of yours tugged at the lure. Found himself swinging, tied up in the string).

--------------------------

Ik reader wasn't really present here, but had to get the ball rolling (: Also I've been stressed and not sleeping so forgive me for this being a bit...

And yes. John stood there and put all the typos in that message on purpose. Unhinged.

[soapybutt17]

How It Began

Summary: Mission has gone south and Price was left with no other choice but to regroup in his home. There, the rest of the team were met with a wife that they didn't know the Captain had, but a Lieutenant they were all too familiar with. Character: John Price x F!Wife!Reader. Simon "Ghost" Riley. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick. John "Soap" MacTavish. Word Count: 3,059 Chapter Warnings: Mention of Blood and Injuries. Allusion to Smut. Pregnancy. Ghost and Gaz being mentally scarred(?).

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Soap knew it was bad when even their Captain was agitated. A mission gone wrong and they were once again on the run in the process. With just the weapons and supplies they carried, they had nothing that could truly help them hide for the time being. Kate was still unable to find them a safe house for the time being.

So the Captain had decided that it was best to bring everyone to his own home for the time being instead. But even with such information, the man was on edge. The hour drive to the forest had been quiet, the sound of the car and the nature around them being the only thing killing the silence of the confined space.

Eventually, Soap had caught sight of a home, at the outskirts of the city, away from the prying eyes of the world. A true representation of their Captain. A two stories home, with a vast yard.

From the closing distance, Soap could hear the sound of dogs barking at their arrival. His eyes peered towards the Captain, slowly the weight on his shoulders were lifted and a ghost of a smile had appeared on his face. There was just something so majestic about finally being home—even if the circumstance was not on anyone’s favor.

“Keep yourselves in check, don’t want to scare the missus.” Price had pointed out once the car was put in a stop.

“Missus?” Soap couldn’t hide his own surprise.

Since when has the Captain been married? The man had shown no indication of it, not even in the rare instances of conversation of their lives away from the field. Soap has never caught sight of even a wedding ring on the man’s finger. But then again, it was best in this time and age to keep it a secret, to avoid any unnecessary action taken against his loved ones.

“I’ve got a life away from the field, MacTavish.” Price chuckled before finally slipping out of the car with the rest of them following behind.

The sound of the dogs now grow louder, further agitating Soap in the moment. He hated dogs, but he was nothing more than an unofficial and much unneeded guest in his Captain’s own home. Walking closer to the door with Ghost and the injured Gaz, the door was opened and the last person he would have ever see be present.

“Lieutenant?”

It was the fifth member of the team that just months ago was put on leave for reasons still unknown to him—until now. He was all too certain why you were now put on leave. The visible bump was evident enough at it was.

“What happened?” You were quick to take hold of Gaz as he continued to stagger from the bullet wound on his leg. Your eyes peered towards the Captain in question.

“Mission gone south, Kate can’t find us a safe house here, so I thought it was best to bring everyone here to regroup.” Price explained, immediately wrapping his arms around you and the pieces finally fit together.

Everything makes sense now.

“Come in, I know the mission was a nightmare. I’ll make you three some tea and something to eat.”

Pulling away from Price, you had went inside and they were once again surrounded with the silence.

“So you and the Lieutenant?” Soap inquired.

“We prefer to keep our relationship a secret. But circumstance made it impossible to keep it a secret anymore.” He sighed, escorting everyone inside.

~

“Hold still for me, okay?” Your heart was breaking, having to see Gaz in so much pain but it was for his own benefit. The sooner the bullet is removed and the wound is cleaned up, the sooner it is he could begin recovering.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Gaz tried to keep on a strong face, but his deathly grip on Soap’s legs made it more evident the excruciating pain that he was in.

With bated breath, you finally tended to Gaz’s wound, pulling out the bullet and stitching him right up. All the while, you could hear Gaz’s heavy breathing and Soap’s attempt at distracting him the best way he knew how—through humor.

“Good as new, Sergeant.” You beamed at him, patting him on his uninjured leg before standing up, wincing at the sudden numbness on your legs for sitting for too long.

“Careful.”

You smiled towards your husband as he made his way towards you and helped you upon your feet. You looked at him, cupping his cheeks in appreciation before your head turned right back to Gaz and Soap that were both staring at you. It seems your husband has yet to truly explain about your relationship.

“Tea?” You offered.

“Got it covered, Ma’am.” It was Ghost that muttered, placing the tray of tea on top of the coffee table that still had the surgical equipment and bloodied gauze you’ve used.

Without even asking, Ghost was quick to discard most of the trash and you looked right back to your husband, a proud look on his face at the masked man’s actions.

“We’re in our home, I think we could drop the formalities.” You pointed out to which earned a blush from all three men. Each and every single one of them looking at your husband for his approval on this.

“Happy wife, happy life.” He chuckled, kissing you on the temple before finally letting you go to check on Gaz’s wound.

For the next few hours, you had tried—and failed to be a good host to the three visitors in your home, but if it wasn’t your husband, it was Ghost or Soap interrupting you and doing whatever you had planned for you. It was growing frustrating, but you knew they meant well given your state.

“Are you three really sure you’d be fine sleeping here?”

You frowned at the setup that laid before you in the guest room, Gaz was laying on the bed all on his own because of his injuries while Ghost stayed on the foldable mattress you had laying around and Soap had decided to take position on the coach.

“This is more than enough for us, Ma’am.” Soap reassured with a grin, before a pillow was thrown right onto his face from Ghost.

“Let’s get you to bed.” Turning your husband was hot on your tail, a frown resting on his lips as he knew perfectly well that you should be sleeping at this hour by now.

“Good night, you three. Just give us a knock if you need anything.” You reminded them.

“I hope not.” Your husband muttered before guiding you back into your shared bedroom for the night.

~

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick had seen and heard so much atrocities in his life in the military. But in the chaos of it all, there were some silver lining he constantly looks into, one of which was the found family he had found in the task force. A father in the form of Captain John Price and a mother in the form of you, the warm and understanding Lieutenant, older brothers in the form of Ghost and Soap.

With said family, he should have expected the full experience out of it. One of which was hearing fornication between his parents in the other room. But it was still a scarring experience to hear it so close and so explicitly.

With the ache still lingering on his legs, he would rather see himself getting shot wherever it was possible instead of hearing the moans and grunts from the other room. Fucking bedroom had thin walls and he could fucking hear everything. From the Captain’s grunts, to your whimpers, and even more traumatizing was the sound of skin slapping. Vividly he was hearing his nightmare coming to life.

“Fucking hell.”

Gaz found himself jumping at the sound of Ghost’s voice, peering down on the floor, the masked Lieutenant was having the same predicament as him. The man shared him a look both of them turned towards the snoring Soap on the coach, unaware of the noise they were both hearing.

“We hear nothing and we will say nothing in the morning.” Ghost instructed.

“I hear nothing, I know nothing.” Gaz sighed laying back onto the bed, and tried his best to find sleep in the confinements of the room he was more than happy to rest in for the time being.

Slowly, the noise slowly died down and they were enveloped in the post-coitus silence of the other room. But the image somehow running through his head, what his father-figure and mother-figure were literally doing in the other room.

“Blood fucking hell.” Ghost muttered once again, sharing the same sentiment as him at the moment.

~

One of the things that John had enjoyed being home was waking up to you. The way the sunlight washed over your features, the glow and plumpness of your cheeks because of the pregnancy, and the way you held onto him like a koala. He missed it all and he would do anything and everything to be able to bottle this moment up with you.

As much as he loved watching you sleep, he loved it even more to see you awake, in his arms, loving him as much, if not, even more than he loved you.

He began with taking your scent in with his nose against the crook of your neck, before his hands found their way to the dips of your waist, the supple naked flesh that he loved to hold against him in the coldest of nights. His ears picked up your whimpers, last nights romp ended with your legs shaking and the satisfied smile on your lips as they peppered his bearded cheeks with your kiss.

“Five more minutes.” You whispered, voice raspy with sleep.

Before he could offer something more than just laying in bed, the sound of Soap’s boisterous laughter shattered the peace inside the bedroom before a sudden realization popped in both of your heads.

They heard. Both of you were certain. The shared horror in both of your faces was much evidence of your realization.

“Let’s get up, before they destroy the kitchen.” You muttered standing up in all your naked glory.

A smile rested on John’s face at the sight of you. The pregnancy did wonders into your body. The fullness of your body as you were growing another human being inside of you. The stretch marks that painted your skin that you were beginning to hate but John loved all the more because of what it had symbolized.

“Another time, Captain.” You teased him slipping into your undergarments, John’s sweatshirt and the only pair of shorts that could fit you in your growing body.

“It seems so.” He grunted finding himself standing up in all his naked glory, walking straight into you and pulling you in for a kiss, the first of many kisses he was certain he would give you for the day. “Good Morning, My Love.”

“Morning to you too, Morning Breathe.” You playfully teased pushing him away before making your way towards the bathroom to freshen up. “You handle the boys, I will commit a war crime if they mess the kitchen up after I cleaned it the other day.” You warned.

It was all the order John needed before he found himself putting on some clothes and making a beeline out of the bedroom to see the madness of the kitchen.

~

To Simon, he had always expected that something was going on between the Captain and the Lieutenant. Price had always been concerned for the team’s well being, but he could see past the avoidance that would occur between the both of you. The tension that was always palpable whenever you shared the same space. It was more than just two superiors interacting with each other, more than just a friendship that spanned longer than the creation of the Task Force. He knew sexual tension when he sees it.

So it wasn’t much of a surprise for him to know that you and the Captain had a relationship. It however, surprised him the progression of said relationship was more than he had expected—with a baby coming along the way. Now the resounding argument before your discharge was clear. You were forced back home for the sake of your baby and for Captain’s sanity.

“How’d you like your eggs, Lt?” Soap had inquired his attention solely on the egg he was frying.

“Scrambled.” He finds himself muttering.

He usually slept less than anyone else in the house right now, more than just his mental state, it was for the scarring that had occurred last night. Nothing fucks him up more than hearing his parent figure fucking in the middle of the night.

 He could not admit that it scarred him more than all the atrocities he had seen and done in his lifetime.

“Steady on the mess,”

Simon finds himself tensing at the sound of the Captain’s arrival. Turning to look at the man, the all too evident signs of a fucked man was seen in the man. A look was shared between Simon and Gaz, and he was all the more grateful for the mask he still wore, how it was easy to hide the blush that he was certain painted his cheeks at the memories of last night.

“Morning, Captain.” Gaz had greeted with the tint still on his cheeks.

The Captain nodded with a grunt before he made his way towards the cupboard to get his own tea started. Simon could see the darkening bruises all over his Captain’s neck and it made all the sounds of last night a reality.

“Heard anything from Laswell, Ghost?” Price had inquired, with his back still face them at the table.

“Told us to head back to the base as soon as possible.” Simon found himself responding, finally looking away from the man, his eyes find themselves resting on the array of pictures that hanged on the wall.

“We prepare to leave after lunch then.”

“Yes Sir.”

At the sound of the chair being pulled, Simon’s gaze returned back to the Captain that now sat in front of him and Gaz.

“I know we have a lot of things we need to discuss—about my relationship and how we had agreed to keep things private until now.”

“It is no one’s business but your own, Sir.” Simon find himself reassuring the man, the evident stress lingered on the older man’s face. He looked older than what he really was but it was a given with the weight that he shoulders during mission.

“But it should have been addressed as my wife is also part of our team.”

At the mention of you, you had arrived, sweetly greeting everyone with a glow in your face since the last time that Simon saw you. Battered and bruises during your last mission, with tears streaking your cheeks before you had left and not even said a proper good bye.

“How’s the leg, Gaz?” You had inquired, patting the man on the shoulders before you strode towards the cupboard to get yourself a cup. The tea that Price has made already waiting for you.

“Doing good, Ma’am.” Gaz responded, cheeks once again returning to a bright shade before them.

“Scrambled eggs for you,” Soap had finally placed a plate of semi-scrambled eggs in front of Simon which he had grunted a thanks to. “And a couple of sunnies for everyone else just like you like ‘em.” He added placing the handful of eggs in front of everyone as well as practically a handful of bacon to go along with it.

Simon had watched you walk towards the Captain, placing a kiss on his cheeks before sitting beside him on the table. The smile that rested on the Captain’s face and the stress of the previous conversation gone temporarily.

“Did John finally tell you about our relationship?” You had inquired already knowing what the conversation had been about.

“I was getting to that.” Price quipped with a chuckle.

For the next hour or so, the conversation was about catching with what you had been doing, all the while the married couple explained how and when it all started between the both of you. How you both had decided it was in everyone including each other’s best interest to keep the relationship and marriage a secret to avoid unwarranted doubts of favoritism amongst everyone. But neither Simon nor Soap or Gaz truly cared if you two were in a relationship or married, it never hindered in missions together and it never will upon getting to know you both even more.

Before long, breakfast and a lavish lunch has ended and it was finally time for them to head back to the base to regroup. All the while, Simon had watched you cling to the Captain, any chance you could, you held onto him for dear life. The unshed tears in your eyes had the Captain slowly crumbling in his resolve.

“Stay safe you four, and I hope you three will visit on a much better circumstance.” You had remained by the front door, unable to truly glimpse close up how they would leave all over again.

“Yes Ma’am.” All three of them had agreed without hesitation.

Simon had watched the Captain pulled you in for a hug and a much needed kiss that had all three of them turning away to give you both a private moment. Snickers and hoots however were thrown in by Soap and it left Simon slapping him on the back of his head to stop.

“Alright, let’s move out.” At the Captain’s booming voice, everyone had now headed back to the car and drove off.

Heaviness filled the car, it was good they had a moment of peace in the Captain and the Lieutenant’s home, but they still had a mission to deal with.

“So, you and the Lieutenant ever plan on adding sound proof walls to your bedroom before we visit again?” Soap inquired and all Ghost and Gaz could do was groan at the new found awkwardness that now filled the car and the sheer embarrassment in the face of the Captain that chose to ignore Soap’s words.

Soap and his fucking mouth.

[crystlizabeth]

Her ༉‧₊˚.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Stallion!Wife!reader

Summery: nobody expected Simon to walk into the ball with his women. His women who stood at 6’4 next to him in her red bottom’s.

Warnings: slight suggestive themes, cursing, reader is blackcoded! As always not proofread!!

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

Simon had mentioned and even talked about his wife multiple times, shit the team has even seen pictures of her. Yet when Johnny and Kyle watch him walk into the hall with her damn. Her arm linked with his as she stood next to him standing the same height as him, yes she had heels but danm was all those two boys could think their jaws dropped. And like I’m the pictures she was pretty, gorgeous to be expected, her confidence radiated off her. The black silky dress she wore falling down to her feet but stood off the floor a slit on the left side, her hair long falling down to her butt. Yes her hair she bought it that lace was secured and transparent shit she looked good and she knew it. And Simon on her arm shit.. nobody could touch her or her man.

“Close y’er mouth.” Price elbowed Kyle in the side.

Kyle looked over at his captain then back at the couple who made their way over. Up close Kyle would be lying if he said he wasn’t just a bit intimidated, she stood tall and next to his lieutenant yeah he might piss himself.

The boys turned their attention towards Simon and his wife her arm still intertwined with his her hand holding Simons bicep. Her nails freshly manicured and with the looks of it Simon didn’t mind spending his cash on her just from the look of her rings, engagement and wedding. Johnnys eyes met hers first after being introduced,

“I’m John, but LT calls me-“

“Johnny,” she chuckled a bit her lips curling into a toothy smile, her voice was smooth and on the deeper side.

Johnny smiled a bit wider not minding the look from his Lieutenant. “Yeah, so he talks ‘bout me yeah?”

She nodded moved her hair over her shoulder “mmhm he dose, I heard a lot about you.” She spoke taking Johnnys hand shaking it.

He watched as Simons hands snaked around your waist, his eyes looking back up to his LT a cocky smirk on his face only for Simons to roll his eyes.

Price and Kyle introduced themselves a bit of conversation continued before Johnny couldn’t take it and more and finally ask her “How Tall are you?”

“Bro.” Kyle groaned becauseto him you cant just ask that.

She smiled her eyebrow raising “You look like you’ve been wanting to ask me.”

Johnny nodded “I have but I gotta be polite ya know.”

“I’m 5’11- 6’0 foot on a good day.” She answered leaning into Simon.

“No f’ckin way.”

She nodded, “Alright McTavish you can stop slobbering all over my wife yeah?” Simon spoke his hold on her hip tightening.

She watched as the two men began to bicker nothing foul but just fun. As the night went on people started to leave and eventually Simon said his goodbyes as did she.

Walking out the clod air hit her arms so she cuddled up to Simon as they walked “Told you they like ya.” He said.

“I wasn’t to worried I’m good with people, did you see their faces when I walked in with you. Did you not tell them.” She asked.

He shook his head opening the passenger door of his truck, “Didn’t feel the need to.” He said his hands falling on her waist. His head tilting and he looked at her his eyes going down them back up he looked like he could devour her right there.

“You lookin at me like that but we both know danm well there ain’t enough room in that back seat for us.” She teased pulling on his belt.

“I’ll make room trust me.” He whispered pressing his body against hers her boobs spilling over the top of her dress.

“Mmhm you said that last time and I ended up with bruises.” She hummed her hands running up and down his arms.

Simon smirked, “one day.”

“Fo shore.” She laughed, leaning forward her lips meeting his.

His fingers dug into her flesh pulling her closer as her hands held his face kissing him.

“You can have all this when we get home. Just keep yo hand to yo’self yeah? You think you can do that big boy?” She teased biting her lip her dark eyes looking at his face. Simon breathless with snugged gloss on his face.

“Yes Ma’am.” He nodded.

“Good.” She finished kissing his lips once more before tapping his hands.

Simon lifted her into the seat, his hands soon starting on her heels taking them off putting them in the back seat. He kissed her calves “Thank you baby.” She smiled stretching her feet.

“Always love.”

Simon was down bad for her. He would do anything and everything she asked but he also knew she would so the same.

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

I know this isn’t much but I have plans for Stallion!reader and ofcc take requests from y’all what do y’all wanna see?

Tags: @hollyjollybakanigga, @twdhtgawm !!

[bullet-prooflove]

"Baby, that red dress brings me to my knees" for Rip, perhaps? ❤

Tagging: @kmc1989 @trublu2u @alisbackalleybbq @mia1653 @privatetruths

References to John Dutton's storyline.

Companion piece to:

Thrill of the Chase (NSFW) - Rip has always loved the thrill of the chase.

 If You Want Me, You Can Have Me - They say that Rip Wheeler doesn't have a heart.

Stay Tonight - Rip asks to stay the night.

Use Your Words (NSFW) - Rip teases you.

Clover - Rip comforts you.

The Vet - Rip comes face to face with a nightmare.

The Train Station - Rip takes you to the train station.

The Good & The Bad - Rip gives you every single piece of himself.

Nightmares - Rip struggles in the aftermath of Gina's attack.

Feral - Rip gets a little protective after what happened with the Becks.

Country Dress - Date night with Rip is interrupted when you get into a fight at the bar.

There’s a white dress laid out on the bed, the pretty lace contrasts against the dark bedding as your fingers run over the soft fabric.  The edges of your mouth tip up into a smile because you know that Rip has left this here for you, that he fumbled his way into that store in town so that he could replace the one you lost the other night in that scuffle at the bar.

You can’t express how much that means to you especially from the man who once told you he’d rather be kicked to death by a horse than venture inside that boutique.

 “You should try it on.” Rip murmurs and you tilt your head up to see him leaning against the door frame, his dark eyes fixed on you.

Your cheeks color under the heat in his gaze as you remove your clothing. Your shirt goes first, then the jeans until all that’s left is the white cotton underwear you pulled on his morning. He bites his lower lip, his gaze drinking in the dark pebbling of your nipples before he clears his throat.

“Jen honey, if you could put on that dress I’d be very much obliged.” He says once more again, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

You do as he requests, stepping into the gown, drawing it up your hips. It fits like a dream, hugging the contours of your body, the skirt flouncing just a little at the hips.

“It’s perfect.” You proclaim and he gives you that look as he strides towards you, his large hands comparing your waist.

“Perfect enough for a wedding?” He asks you, his voice low and rough. “Perfect enough for us to get married today?”

“Was that what you wanted to talk about the other night before the fight?” You say quietly as your fingers lace at the back of his neck, threading through his closely cropped curls.

It’s the conversation with John Dutton that’s prompted this, the discussion of lost time and a love that could be extinguished at any moment. There isn’t much time left for Lou Reeves but there is for you and him.

“I didn’t a ring when I asked you the first time but I do now.” He tells you, his nose nuzzling against yours. “John can deliver the ceremony in that little place you like by the stream at sunset. Lloyd and Ryan can step in as witnesses…”

“Travis and Gina.” You say quietly as you look into his eyes. “The both of them need to be there too.”

“I can make that happen.” Rip murmurs as he looks into your eyes, that handsome smile crossing his features. “So honey are we gonna do this?”

“Yes Rip.” You say, reaching up on tiptoes and kissing his mouth. “We certainly are.”

Love Rip? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[sofasoap]

I love you.

inspired by the prompt line by @celestialwrites , Short ficlet with each of the Task Force 141 men. Prompt can be found here. Pairing :

John Price x GN!Reader Simon "Ghost"Riley x GN!Reader Kyle "Gaz"Garrick x GN!Reader Johnny "Soap"MacTavish x F!Reader Warning : Mature theme, swearing, alcohol use.

Masterlist

Captain John Price:

“Hhhheyyy Captain?”

“Yes love?”

“You know you are a very good looking man, very good looking for an old man??” You slurred as you reach up to his face, patting it before caressing his beard. “Look at this.. ..Luscious mutton chop. Who else can pull this off in such a sexy way other than you?”

Price cocked an eyebrow, clearly amused.

“Thank you?”

“And let me tell you a little secret.” You lean closer, looking up at him, as if you are going to make a life changing announcement. “ I LOVE YOU.” You pointed at him. “You, Captain Johnathan Price, I LOVE YOU VERY MUCH. BUT!! I didn’t want you to know.” you pouted, looking down at the wedding band around his ring finger. “Because all the good looking and nice men are taken. Including you.” 

"Tell me that when you get off the morphine, darling." He chuckled. “Get some rest. We can talk again when you are awake.”

“You promise?” “I promise.”

“You promise you won’t tell YOU, what I just said?”

Price couldn’t help laughing at the absurd yet amusing conversation. You were clearly so drugged out on the pain relief, nothing coming out of your mouth makes sense anymore. “Yes love. Come on. Shut your eyes now.” “Ok.” “Hey Captain? Remember. Shhhh, Don’t tell yourself that I said I love you!!” 

“How are they Captain?”

“Recovering. But I don't think they remember we are married.” 

“That bad?” “Think it’s the morphine talking.”

“Oh.”

Simon “Ghost” Riley

You rub your hands together. You can see white mist coming out of your mouth as you breathe out. It’s only the beginning of autumn, but in this part of the world, winter comes early. 

The team has retreated to a safe house deep inside the forest, waiting for the exfil the next day. Everyone is inside the safe house resting while you take the first shift. Scanning your eyes across the landscape. Nothing out of the ordinary. It’s a very calm evening. You like this. Gives you time to think, reorganise your brain. Have sometime to yourself. And your thought turned to a certain masked man. You have heard of his reputation way before you joined the team. And true to his reputation, you found him extremely intimidating, distant, and cold in the beginning.

Once you gained his trust, proved yourself, you know he actually cares about his team mates a lot. Not a man with words, but through actions. Before you know it, you have slowly fallen for him. But you don’t intend to tell him. A secret you want to keep, deep within yourself. 

Interrupting you thought as you heard the sound of door creaking, you stood up immediately, body into alert mode, ready for the enemy approaching. Only to find Ghost , stepping out of the threshold of the front door. You relax your shoulder, slumping back against the bench you were perching on.  Looking at the two cups of tea he is holding, and back up to him, tilting your head.

“Can’t sleep,” he replied with a gruff voice., answering your silent question. “Thought I would bring you some tea.” There it is again, his way of caring, without saying out a loud. “I think L.T fancies you.” You remember Soap teased you once. “Please. With the way he death-stares at me all the time??” you laughed. “I doubt it.”

“You know Soap is right.” Gaz chimed in. “ Things that he does for you willingly without asking. He doesn’t even do the same for us!”

Making his way to you, he handed you one of the tea mugs, and proceeded to make himself comfortable beside you on the bench. Rolling up his mask slightly, he started sipping the tea. Not often you have a chance to sit close to him, especially so close that you can observe every little detail of his face ( well, part of his face, you thought.). The deep scar that is running across from his cheek right to the corner of his, surprisingly luscious lip. A sudden gust of wind blows across, you pull your coat tighter, and hug the hot cup of tea closer to you, trying to warm yourself up. 

You noticed he shifted his body slightly, shuffling closer to you and tilting his body slightly to face you. He is blocking the wind out for you. You realised. Fuck. Maybe Soap and Gaz is right, maybe he has a thing for you as well. Just as you …..

“....Love you.” 

Dead silence. you could hear a pencil drop. His body stiffens at your sudden confession. 

"No, you don't." he finally whispered out a reply. “You can’t love me.”

You grit your teeth, slightly frustrated. Both at yourself for blurting the confession out aloud and at him. “I don’t expect you to reciprocate my feelings, SIMON. Do not tell me how I feel and who I can fall for.” Lifting your chin up, trying hard to contain your anger.  “Why is it so hard to believe that someone loves you. Or YOU deserve to be loved?”

You know you have hit what is in his mind, as you see his eyes narrowed for a split second. 

Turning your face away, refuse to let him see the tears forming in your eyes. “I am sorry.” 

“Don’t apologise to me Simon. Just think about it.” Shifting your rifle around, “ You are well respected, much more loved and deserve to be loved and cared for, more than you think. Romantic love or not.” You sniffed. “The other boys love you. We all love you. Don’t think so lowly of yourself.” 

He doesn’t reply. Instead, he pulls you into his side with one of his arms awkwardly. You closed your eyes and melted into his embrace. All of sudden fatigue took over. You are so tired. Not physically tired, but mentally.

“It’s ok. I’ll take over the watch. You rest for a bit.” he rumbled out in a hushed tone. He swallowed a bit, “I am sorry.. I don't know .. how to …“ “I said stop apologising, Simon. It’s ok.” Just before you drifted off to sleep, you heard him whispering, “I… I don’t hate you.” You smiled. Maybe that is a start.

“L.T… have you seen..Oh. I’ll leave you two be.” 

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick 

“Is this some kind of prank?” Gaz shifted uncomfortably, eyes darting left to right, hands fidgeting away. “... WHAT?” your mouth dropped open. “ I mean…” Gaz pointing to nowhere in particular,  “Everyone is swamping towards Soap today, are you sure you are coming to the right place?” “KYLE GAZ GARRICK.” Suddenly you were very, very pissed off. “Are you trying to say I am a liar? I am playing some sort of prank on you just for the fun of it?” You half yelled. “That my love confession to you means nothing?????”  

Shit, he has never seen you so angry before. Maybe that was a bad thing to say. Scrap that. It is a very bad thing to say.

Gaz first noticed you when he was sent to the infirmary for some training injury few years ago, you immediately caught his eyes with your gentle smile. The way you treated everyone with care. Laughter of yours, beautiful voice.

The two of you became friends. Every time he ended up in the infirmary, you made an effort to come and check in on him if you were too busy to treat him personally.Little conversations you have when you two are together during meal time. Happy Birthday and festive greeting cards you give to him. 

Before he knew it, Gaz knew he was in love. 

But he isn’t sure if you feel the same. He felt you treated everyone equally. To Captain, Ghost and Soap, the same smile and patience you show him. But that little shyness that you show only to him when he has a conversation with you. Maybe? The insecure side of him keeps convincing himself that the two of you are just friends.  There is no way you will go for a person like him. 

“No.. I .. that’s not what I meant..”  

“Last time I checked, It’s February the fourteenth, not fucken First of April.” you yank back the bag of chocolate cookies you spend hours making the night before, wrapped up carefully in a nice decorative packaging. 

“ You don’t deserve these chocolate cookies if my feelings are going to be trampled on like that. Have a good day, SERGEANT GARRICK.” 

You pushed past Soap as you stormed out of the office, fuming. 

“...You fucked up didn’t you.” Soap asked in the amused tone, as he walked into the office.

“... yes.” Gaz grumbled. 

Plonking himself onto the couch, shaking his head. “You know they have been asking me about you quite a lot lately?” Gaz have noticed you have been talking to Soap quite a lot lately during meal breaks. He was slightly jealous and heart broken when you were spending so much time with Soap instead of him. Now he knows why.

“They were quite scared that you wouldn't reciprocate their feelings. But I assured them you like them as well… but…”  Patting his shoulder. “Flower shops are still open down the road. If you go now, you still have time to make amends.” Before Soap finished his sentence, Gaz was out the door already. “These two fools.. “ Shaking his head as he leaned back into the couch. He helped you two enough, now it’s up to the two of you to sort things out amongst yourselves. 

You heard a soft knock on the door. You deliberately swap shifts at the last minute with your fellow medic, just to dodge everyone who is going out celebrating the special day. “Come in.” You growled out to the knocker, annoyed. You just want to be left alone after the unpleasant and failed confession earlier on. You stiffened as you saw Gaz poking his head through the gap of the door, with a nervous expression on his face, and hiding something behind his back. “... how can I help, SERGEANT?” The way you spit out his rank, makes him wince. 

“Can I come in?” Wiggling himself through the gap of the door, but not making any step further, as you wave him in , impatiently. “I.. I just want to apologise for my behaviour earlier on.” Gaz looks down on the floor, guilt is written all over his face. “My choices of words weren’t, Um. Exactly, nice.”

“.... No.” “ So Um, I.. I got you this.” thrusting forward the bunch of flowers he was hiding behind his back, “and just to let you know I..” shuffling forward toward your desk as he summons up his courage, “I , I am very sorry for what I said, So um, I , ah. Can I take you out for dinner sometime?”

“Depends.”

“Depends?” Gaz looked up, confused.

“ Is this just an apology dinner or pity dinner? If so, NO.” “No, Nono, No, No, I really want to take you out for dinner, as a friend, I mean, not as a friend,” Geez he is really digging himself another hole here. You narrowed your eyes, “What I am trying to say is,” taking a deep breath before he takes the leap, “ I like you , I love you. Not as a fellow soldier but, more than a friend.”

Your eyes widen, shocked. You got the reply you were waiting for, now you don’t know how to respond.  Feeling your face burning, right up to the tip of your ears, you finally let out a little whisper.

“Ok.” “Ok?” Gaz felt like a weight was lifted from his chest. “Yes?”

You look up to him, finally that little smile that he loves so much was back on your face. “Yes Gaz, you may take me out to dinner.”

Reports of people sighting Gaz skipping and dancing along the corridor happily as he comes out from the infirmary circled around for days afterwards.

“He finally asked them out?” “Yep. those two bampots. Been dancing around each other long enough.” “You owe me fifty pounds.”

John “Soap” MacTavish

“Fucking finally!” …. What?

“I've been in love with you for five years, thanks for finally catching up.”

Your brain short circuited, what did he just say to you?? “Hold on, just.. Please rewind?” You wave your hands around, still not quite processing the information that he just disclosed to you. You work as a manger at the bar near the SAS barrack, where the soldiers from the base frequent.. Moving here to Credenhill  from the busting big cities, you are looking for a change, none of those big town cold people feel. Money wasn’t a problem for you, you can live comfortably from what you have saved up before and surprise inheritance from a rich distant relative you never met before.  Securing this job was easy, your experiences of bartending from university days, and also management skills from previous jobs.

This is where you met the Task Force 141 boys. All of them, with different personalities, hit off with you straight away. They seem intimidating from the beginning, but as soon as you got to know them, they warm up to you pretty quickly. Even the scary looking Ghost. “You,” Pointing at Johnny, or Soap as he is known within his friend and fellow soldier’s circle, “been in love with me,” pointing at yourself, “for the last five years?”

“Yep.” Flashing you with his signature brilliant smile,“You are a hard shell to crack bonnie.” taking a sip of his whisky, he chuckled. “Never had so much trouble trying to chase after someone. Even Ghost was telling me to give up.” “I.. I didn’t think you were interested in me?” you stated, meekly.

Soap nearly spit out his drink, “... are you kidding me?” he look at you, with mouth wide open, with a shocked expression.

You have noticed out of the four men, he sought after you the most, likes to come up to the bar area, asking you to make his drinks, having a good chat with you when the bar is a bit more quiet and slower. He will sometimes come by himself, and when you ask him where the rest of the teams are, he will simply shrug his shoulders, “Busy. But it's ok. I am here.” Him staying behind after the closed down time, helping you clean up and walk you home. 

“You are really dense.” Your friend had made that comment once when you bluntly turned down someone’s offer for a drink. “Did you not realise that person was flirting with you??”“... Nope? I thought he was just being friendly?”Your friend gave you a look as if you had grown an arm out of your head. “I… Oh gosh, no wonder.. Never mind.” Shaking their head, defeated. OH. Thinking back, all these flirtatious remarks and subtle hints he was dropping really flew over your head. No wonder even your best buddies call you the most unobservant person in the world. 

Wiping the drinking glasses, trying to hide your embarrassment. You are glad it’s after closing time, no one else is here to witness the strange interaction and confession between you two. “I .. um, seriously, my friend has called me dense many times..”

“Obviously ..” “Hey!!” swatting him with a tea towel, pretending to be angry.

he chuckled as he dodged it. “So what made you want to confess to me tonight bonnie?”

“... I overheard the conversation about a dangerous mission earlier on...” your hand stopped, lower the tumbler glass, looking down into the sink. “... I thought.. If I don’t say anything now.. I might..” taking a deep breath in, trying to push away that panicking feeling that is arising. 

“Hey. “ leaning forward,his hand reaches over the counter, tilting your chin up. “We will make it back. We always make it back right?” biting your lower lip, you nodded slightly, trying not to let the tears spill. “You know what made me pull through the mission every time?”

“... What?” 

“The thought of you.” his voice dropped, laced with slight pain and sadness. “Coming back to you, to flirt with you,” you let out a teary chuckle, “I always think, will they get my hint this time round? Will they finally accept my invitation for a date?”

“.. you asked me out on a date before?”

“... Did you not realise?” 

You gave him a look, obviously not.

“So Bonnie, will you go out with me when I come back?” “.... Yes.”

“Well, this is a great place for a first date, Johnny.”

“It’s still a date, right?”

“Not with all the IV line and  wires attached to you, bandages around your head, cast on your leg…and three other people in the room.” “Don’t mind us.” “It’s hard not to.” 

A/N: Thanks @writeforfandoms for nudging me to write this. this actually went on longer than I expected.... taglist: @floral-force @homicidal-slvt @okayyadriana @jynxmirage @captainpriceslover @tapioca-marzipan @siilvan

[scoobydoodean]

Rewatching and like do you have any theories about why Missouri is so.. not nice to Dean???

Yes. I think she's feeling guilty about agreeing to help John hide from them (he was staying in her house during 1.09 "Home" and she knew Sam and Dean were looking for him). She was also afraid Sam's psychic abilities would allow him to sense John, and I think she used Dean as a distraction. Missouri is particularly sensitive to people who have suffered losses, and Sam had recently lost Jess, so she didn't want to give him a hard time. She wanted to make him laugh.

From 1.09:

MISSOURI: That boy…he has such powerful abilities. But why he couldn’t sense his own father, I have no idea. [The camera pans over to her couch, where JOHN WINCHESTER is sitting.] JOHN: Mary’s spirit –- do you really think she saved the boys? MISSOURI: I do. [JOHN nods sadly and twists his wedding ring on his finger.] John Winchester, I could just slap you. Why won’t you go talk to your children? JOHN: I want to. You have no idea how much I wanna see ‘em. But I can’t. Not yet. Not until I know the truth. [They share a look. The screen fades to black.]

The next time she sees Dean (in 13.03), she doesn't have that energy. The first thing she does is give Dean her condolences for his losses—PLURAL. This is more significant than it might at first seem, because Sam has been singling out Mary (the only person they didn't see die for sure) and trying to minimize any discussion of Cas.

My other theory is that Dean like. Tracked mud in her house or something when he was a child jzhdfhvsdzv

[bunnyreaper]

does your husband know?

pairing - john price x f!reader wc - 1k warnings - implied cheating, established relationship, hotel sex, dom/sub undertones, sex against a window, dirty talk, kink exploration, 18+ notes - a little price ficlet as a treat to myself, read on ao3!!

"Fuck, love. How long has it been?"

His hands enclose yours on the glass pane, his fingers weaving between yours as your wedding ring gleams in the moonlight. Hard, clothed hips are pressed against your bare skin, pinning and exposing you to anyone who might look up into the hotel window.

John's breath is hot in your ear, sending shivers down your spine before he chases them with kisses.

"I don't, I don't know, too long—" You babble, already out of your mind with the feelings your lover is pulling out of you, unraveling you as he always does.

"What kind of husband leaves his wife so fucking desperate?" He smiles devilishly, recalling the desperate look you'd given him across the hotel bar, how easy it had been for him to charm you. "You were practically begging for me. Gagging for it, weren't you?"

One of his hands releases, trailing its way to your neck—not choking, but just holding you, as his lips attach to the weak spot behind your ear and you cry out.

John undoes you with ease, each touch electrifying. Even if it hadn't been so long, you'd still be crying out for him with every cell in your body.

You whimper and whine as he pulls away momentarily, though your arousal flares as you hear the clink of his belt buckle and the rustle of his clothes.

He's so close. So close to being inside you.

"I need—" You squirm, pushing your hips back as your body begs for him, you couldn't hide your need for him if you tried, not that you'd ever want to.

"I know what you need." He purrs, his voice making you shake. He guides his swollen cock through your wet folds, taunting you with his thickness as he coats himself.

What you need is right there, brushing over your hole, nudging at your clit. John already moves expertly, one of his hands falling to your hip to hold you perfectly in place, to hold you exactly where he needs you. "Need a man who can take care of you. Don't worry, I'm right here."

Without any more teasing or taunting, he pushes his thick cock inside you in one swift movement, filling you to the brim and making your back arch. It burns, and then his dick is kissing the tip of your cervix, and you're lost in the pain and the pleasure of it all—the stretch, the push. John is exactly where he belongs, and you flutter around him helplessly as you welcome him home.

"God, you're so fucking tight." He works himself deeper, molds you once more to his size, gets you used to him all over again. "Gonna stretch you out so good, sweetheart."

You're already a whimpering mess, pleasure coursing through you as your conscious thoughts slip away. The second John touches you, it gets hard to think, hard to even breathe.

But his next words have you gasping at the air, desperately trying to retain your grip on reality as it all becomes too much.

"I'll fuck you 'till you forget your husband's name." He punctuates his words by beginning with a relentless pace, already fucking all thoughts of that pretty little head of yours.

"Please…" You plead, your voice sounding so unlike your usual self, so desperate—but you're always desperate for him.

His hand snakes round to your front, two calloused fingers working in circles around your slick clit. The only reason you're still standing is John's body slamming you into the glass, his hand around your neck holding you upright. "This married cunt is mine, isn't that right, love?"

"Yes, John, yes. It's yours. I'm yours." Your words are a mindless chant, a mantra of worship to this man that fucks like a god and takes you to a higher plane.

His groans join yours in filling the room, each gruff vocalisation making you shiver further. The feel of his hot breath against your skin, his fingers working in your wetness, the sound of his pleasure-wracked voice—it's almost too much, and yet he doesn't stop talking you through it.

"Missed you while I was away. Couldn't stop thinking about filling you up, hearing you moan my name." He growls, his thrusts becoming faster, harder, deeper. He's desperate, too, lost in you in the same way you're lost in him.

"Been too long, not gonna last, love. Gonna make you shake again first, though." His fingers work faster, urging you closer and closer to the edge he promises.

Slick sounds echo around, the sound of skin against skin, those groans again. Your eyes are focused on your reflections, seeing John's brow furrow in pleasure and watching as he grits his teeth, mutters out a strangled fuck. His hand tightens around your neck as he bounces you off his length with reckless abandon.

He's perfect, and in this moment, he's everything you've been missing

"I'm close." You pant, breath fogging up the glass.

His eyes meet yours in the reflection—a hard, intent, possessive stare. "Cum for me. Cum on my cock."

Your eyes screw shut, pleasure snapping through you as you're fucked relentlessly through your peak—John's groans escalate as he finishes inside you, pumping you full of his cum as you shake in his hold.

His forehead comes to rest against your shoulder as the two of you breathe in sync, coming down from your high together as one.

His arms wrap around you as he maneuvers you to the bed, softly laying you atop the sheets as he stares down at you lovingly, his cum dripping down your thighs.

"Missed you." You sigh contentedly, a fiercely radiant smile on your face, only for him.

"Missed you too, love." He presses a kiss to your forehead before starting to strip off his clothes. The shirt, trousers, and boots are tossed aside, leaving him in his underwear—his dog tags hanging over his furry chest, his ring shining brightly beside the dulled silver.

He climbs onto the bed next to you, stroking your face with a serene tenderness. "That neglectful husband of yours, huh." He says with a smirk.

"At least he's here now." You pull him closer, pressing your lips to his, relishing his taste after so long without it. Everything is duller when John's away, but with him back, he paints the world back into colour with every brush of his fingers across your cheek. "Hotel was a nice touch, really added to the fantasy."

His grin is cheeky, devilish. The scenario was his idea—tempting you away from your absent husband, giving him everything that man can't. It couldn't be further from the truth. As you lay here next to John, his attention solely on you, you could live forever on the high it brings.

His fingers entwine with yours one more time, as he fiddles with the ring he put on your finger just over a year ago. "Nothing but the best for my wife."

[himegureisu]

5 | the Woman

Summary: Unexpected visits with unexpected reveals. A/N: I am still alive *insert ozai's voice*.

< PREV | NEXT >

—————————— 🔎——————————

ACCESS DENIED.

These two words in bright bold letters were not what the consulting detective expected when he swiped the card he stole from his older brother.

“If you could excuse us for just a minute,” Sherlock said, quickly retreating from the situation before they could be caught, as John trailed behind him. “Sherlock! What in blazes…?”

—————————— 🔎——————————

For once in his life, his phone rings at an opportune time. His mother’s sermon rudely abrupted by the constant noise that she rolled her eyes and waved him off.

Mrs. Holmes, otherwise known as Mummy, was your typical loving mother, however, possessed intelligence of no bounds.

Her arrival half an hour prior caught you both off guard as Mycroft opened the door. Her smiling facade withered the smallest bit at the sight of you eating breakfast in nothing but her son’s long sleeves. Her eyes caught on the engagement and wedding band set that twinkled when sunlight hit the space of the dining room not noticing that her son’s hands were adorned with one of the same.

“Alexander Mycroft Chad Holmes,” her tone unimpressed to say the least, as you mouthed Chad quietly laughing and **then the corner of his lips twitched, “Please tell me you didn’t ruin a marriage,”

“Mummy, I’m appalled you thought I could do such a thing,” Mycroft sighed, as he let her in, and turned to you, “The only marriage I can ruin is my own,”

Her mouth parted slowly in realization as you stood to formally greet her despite your state of dress.

“We’re sorry for the deception, Mrs. Holmes,” your hand outstretched as she skeptically accepts, “However, it’s nice to finally meet you,”

“This isn’t some sort of joke,” Mrs. Holmes said sternly, her eyes narrowing at Mycroft, “Is this Mycroft?”

“Why do you assume the worst of me today, Mummy?” he sighed, as she sits down beside you by the breakfasts table,

“Because I’m your mother. I know you far too well,” she answered, and turned to you, “I expect an explanation right here, right now,”

“Of course, mummy,”

Thus, the inquisition commenced. Her questions unrelenting from when you met, relationship milestones, how did you hide everything from them, and so much more that you were surprised that Mycroft hadn’t found the excuse to bail out.

“If you’ll excuse me, Mummy,” his phone raised to reveal the most irritating picture of Sherlock, “Must take this,”

“Fine,” she conceded, as Mycroft walked away, leaving you to face her, “Does your brother know about this?”

“Of course not, you’re the first,” he then remembered, “Besides Anthea that is. We did need a witness,”

“Oh, you, go answer your brother,” Mrs. Holmes shooed Mycroft away and turned to you, “I do hope you know you can tell me if that boy crosses a line,”

“Mycroft may be like that Mrs. Holmes, but he does treat me very well,” your eyes on his figure by the window no doubt scolding Sherlock for whatever he has been doing, “If there was a problem, I’d probably do damage before you could do anything else,”

“I needed to hear it from you,” she said, as her eyes also focused on her son, “They are different from most men,”

“They are,” you agreed, as Mycroft ended the call, “You have nothing to worry about,”

“I hope you ladies are finished?” he stands between your seats, “I cleared our schedule for the rest of the morning to make up for this interruption,”

“I know when I’m not wanted,” she gets up on her feet and Mycroft escorts her to the door, “It was good meeting you, dear, and Mycroft?”

“Grandchildren,” she simply said, and he immediately answered, “Mother,”

“Oh, do come to Christmas together,” she insisted, “Your father needs to meet her as well,”

“I’d like that,” you answered, as Mycroft simply accepted, “Thank you for visiting,”

“Yes, we’ll see you soon, Mummy,” Mycroft said, as she waved goodbye, “Safe travels,”

“Now, where were we?”

@julihehe @nyxthepotatoe

< PREV | NEXT >

[robynator]

re-read some of the scenes in russian roulette and i have to say, i find it hilarious how much of a hypocrite john rider is

john to yassen: forget about your grandfather, family is a weakness that can be used against you by your enemies. oh you're carrying a watch that used to belong to him because it reminds you of home? weak. get rid of it.

also john to yassen: i've been married for three years and have a kid on the way. yes, i am wearing my wedding ring in your presence, despite the fact that you are a baby assassin in the making and i keep telling you that sentimentality is a weakness. and now i am going to meet up with someone that is definitely not my wife, but don't tell rothman, ok? i'm not supposed to do that on a mission so this is super secret

john to yassen: assassins do not have preferences. your preferences can get you killed and if you make a habit of ordering the same food or drink at any place, that can be used to find you

also john: *orders grenadine on every possible occasion & has a habit of drinking his special whiskey after a successful kill*

dude really said ”do as i say, not as i do”, while never acknowledging that he went against his own teachings in the first place, all the while gaslighting yassen with the whole ”i am not advising you to leave scorpia, i just don't think that you are cut out for this line of work, but of course the last thing i want to do is dissuade you, i'm just saying that you can leave not that you should” thing. he is SUCH a manipulative bastard i love him

[brainr0t-landfill]

Lemonade

Simon Riley x Reader/Ghoap/John Mactavish x Reader

t.w:cheating, this is an unedited wip I'm just posting it to get it off my notes app idk what happens in this, rough for play(?)

"the next time he kisses me, want him to taste red ruby lips"-Lemonade, Nicole Dollangager

There's lemonade with a small shot of vodka mixing around in it on the kitchen table, spotted by sunlight, your thumb and pointer finger holding a cigarette to your lips, you don't breath it in, you don't pour yourself a glass you don't make a show of hiding your wedding ring or dabing at your wet eyes maybe if you stay still for long enough you'll finnaly figure out what to do, how to feel expect torn.

You've been married to John for five years.

He's everything anyone ever wants, he's good, he's handsome, he's got a stable job, he loves you.

You wolf whistle and tap your cigarette into an empty plastic sauce container he's smiling, watching every move you make like you grind up sparks with each motion.

"Just the full on package aren't you John? Making me feel bad here, pining you down and all."

He laughs and leans into you blue eyes sparkling like sea at summer, like a blessing. He kisses your cheek then rubs his nose against yours.

"Well I do smoke, if ye wanna count that, probably gon' make the house smell awfull."

You shrug, it comes easy with him to brush things off, to feel lighter than air.

"Could quit together?"

You offer laughter ,already bubbling in your throat he holds his lips to yours not quite kissing but still touching, eyes closed hands on your waist.

"Could always try."

The door is knocked, you flinch as you jump up scrambling forward, hands shaking, teeth chattering quietly like some druggie feeling the needle prick their arm, medical metal shinning under streetlights.

"Long time no see luv."

He's at the edge of the threshold , dead eyes fixed on you, balaclava covering his face. He's almost as broad as the doorframe, thick arms crossed over his chest, blond eyelashes dappled around the eyes focused solely on you for the next few hours; you've made yourself blind to it all.

"Saw you at the pub with Johnny just last week Ghost."

He smirks; you've thought yourself to tell by the way his eyes crinkle, thin like a snakes'. Either because that's not the sort of seeing he's talking about or because he's still proud you saw the bright purple hickey on John's neck when he came back from the bathroom, your husband's cheeks flushed like a young boy lips reddened and just the slightest bit swollen.

"Hope we didn't leave ye 'lone for long, bonnie."

You miss ignorance.

"Come in."

"Been waitin' for me luv?"

Does Johnny? You bite your tounge.

"Don't flatter yourself Riley."

He chuckles, leans down to kiss your cheek, mask rubbing against your skin, muffled breath hot and moist.

"I'm seein' just why Johnny comes over to me lookin' for some lovin', ya sure as shit ain't givin' him scraps little minx"

"And you're here because?"

You snap back pouring him a glass with shaking hands your wedding ring is still on, no reason to take it off.

He shrugs, wide shoulders, sharp jaw, empty eyes. You wonder if he has a bird waiting at home; you wonder how easy they'd be.

"Call it excitement I guess, the hot kind."

You hate it, you hate how neither man on your life can name one reason as to why they love you, why they keep you around.

You're laying in bed with John his tuxedo unbuttoned; tanned, scarred chest exposed his dogtags glittering like gold with the small rays of moonlight sneaking in through the curtains. He's waxed, smells like too much cologne and dry cleaned clothes, alcohol he's holding one of your hands rubbing at the knuckles, swiping over the thick gold band over and over again.

"You must have a reason Johnny, c'mon."

"I love ye bonnie, everything about ye, cannea even begin to dissect it."

You sigh, chapped lips stinging as you snuggle into him, his eyes watching you like you're the best damn thing's that ever happened to him.

The very next day you two have Ghost over in your new home. 

You nod as you push his glass towards him, he hooks a thick arm around your waist and pulls you back onto his lap. İt's awkward, the chairs too small ,he's too big, you're squirming too much, the room is too hot, he's cold, you're flaring up.

You turn around and yank his mask up plastering your hot mouth over his, eyes shut, he groans, grinds his crotch against yours, his hot hard cock nudging against where you're raw and needy.

"Fuck- feelin bit jealous babe? Over who huh?"

İt started a year ago, or at least you noticed it a year ago. Someone else's perfume on Johnny's collar, late nights, bad excuses, always too tired, always too distant than too smothering. You checked his phone, sometimes you wished you hadn't, sometimes you wish you had kept your safe sunbathed home, your image of the perfect husband alive, even if it was on live support.

"No one, fuck both of you-"

"N ya ask why I keep comin back, pretty fuckin baby."

You growl in his ear, nipping at his earlobe clawing at his tight shirt before he pulls back takes it off, he chest is painted blue and purple,  you wrap a hand around his neck and squeeze smashing your mouth over his, teeth knocking.

He wheezes and laughs, broad cold hands smoothing over your back, slick with sweat and presses you tighter against him.

Johnny had introduced you to Simon almost as soon as the two of you started dating he wanted the two of you to get along so so badly that you should've suspected something the momen he had told you again and again in the  car.

"Please, please no gradirh, please just try n get along with him yeah? Simon's real important tae me, easier for everyone involved."

You should've known by the way his eyes lit up, the way he worded his sentences, the way he seemed to wait on each and every word Simon uttered. You knew Simon was a big shot, somewhat of a cherished celebrity amongst his own scene, he just had that look about him like a stuffed head on the mantle sneering down, flames from the fireplace reflected in dark eyes.

You pull back, bottom lips busted, you swipe a thumb over it and sneer. Picking at the wound

"He kiss ya like that?"

You regret it the moment you ask it, you don't wanna know, you don't wanna compare or analyse like you used to, you don't wanna hurt like that again.

He shakes his head, pale skin flushed and clammy,his smile so genuine and natural it makes you sick.

"Nah, he's actually quite gentle."

You grind harder, hipbone knocking against firm muscle, knees against the back of the chair, a sticky layer of ice and acid where your skin makes contact with his.

You didn't like Ghost much. He was off colored, disorienting. His footsteps weredead silent, his colors bleeding into the colors of the background, his smile too sharp you could never bring yourself to like him as anything beyond an aquiantince and the guy your husband adores for some reason, in turn he revealed in stepping on your tail, making you walked around eggshells so John could keep up that blinding smile.

No matter how many times John pushed you two into spending alone time or hanging out as a trio it never worked, the I've ever broke.

Untill you called Simon up yourself.

"He soft with you?"

You sneer.

"None of your business."

"He's my buddy of years, my sergeant n all, and since im the honourary member of this cozy little marriage pretty sure I'm entitled."

You both chuckle, you're spiteful and he's amused. John never kisses you softly, he kisses you like he's apologising.

Apologizing for offering you a heart that was never his to give, for letting you follow him into this house, this bed, this love when he always had one foot out the door, one hand in Simon's pants.

Johnny always babbles about how there is a clear and concrete line between Ghost and Simon, supposedly one is his teammate, hid friend and the other is a war machine, his lieutenant.

You're not familiar with his friend nor his lieutenant yet some accumulation of them darkens your doorway, twitching, bruised eye lids and empty, dry eyes like a dying Barracuda, hands showed into pockets, clothes crinkled. 

You pace around the room, hands gesturing wildily.

"You and Johnny?! You and my fucking husband?! I- I- how? Why? Why would you-"

He stands there leaning against the door and watching you like a zoogoes watches the animals pace around in their cages, idle yet invested, calm.

"I didn't cheat on ya luv, he did, feels like something you should talk out with him."

"How could he?! How could-"

You choke on your sobs laughter and misery bubbling up your throat at the same time as you look at him.

"How could you?"

He averts his eyes, staring out the window. Betrayal from him stings just as bad as betrayal from John if not worse.

"Couldn't help myself luv"

"Seriously? That's your best fucking excuse Riley?"

He winces searching around the living room, his eyes skimming over the half empty vodka bottle and the shattered vase John's favourite suite laying shredded on the ground.

"Not an excuse, luv-"

You scoff, walking over to pour yourself another glass.

"Yeah, yeah sure isn't cause y'all all about taking accountability, right? All about owning up and responsibility n all that shite"

"Ya knew it would happen"

He walks over, you count his heavy footsteps approaching.

"Ya knew what would happen, you knew what I thought of him, of us and you must've had a clue or two about what he thought too. You knew, luv."

"I did, didn't I?"

He puts his hand on your shoulder, his gloves are off, his rough, calloused hand warming through your cardigan.

"Don't blame ya, can be quite the charmer that one. All baby blues n sunshine."

You scoff, the glass fills slowly.

"Did you?"

You ask as you offer him the glass of vodka the stillness of your own voice surprises you and somewhere deep down you knew this was a possibility, a big possibility. You watch his Adams apple bob as he takes a sip of the glass, wipes jis mouth with the edge of yhe mask.

"Was hoping."

You don't ask him what he was hoping for, you lean forward and press your lips to his, you tease the wine of his lips this close he smells of tobacco.

And you can't blame him, can't blame him for wanting to be in his light, his warm, lively light.

You trail a hand up his back and curl your hands around the back of his neck grazing his lips with your teeth, he puts his hands on your hips holds you close as he kisses you his breath hot on your skin.

masterlist here

[blingblong55]

Glory -John 'Soap' MacTavish NSFW

GN!Reader, smut, MDNI, softdom!soap, sub!reader, 18+, rough!sex, blowjob

Based on a request:

Ma’am, need more NSFW soap!!! I CANT WITH THAT MAN. The things I wanna do to him is unspeakable.😭😭😭

A/N: It'll be more of HC's but just be aware of most of them. Also Cpt. MacTavish is such a slut and I want him!

He likes to slap you around on days when you mess with him, he isn't rough at all and he most likely will kiss you after each one.

Prefers soft sex over rough any day. Yes, there are days when he wants to be rough but they are rare.

He loves to play with the idea of you being his pet, he hates the fact that you want to be tied up since he relates that to being a hostage.

Foreplay is always a must for him, he wants you open and ready for him.

Fingers you at dinners if you misbehave, he also loves to watch you contain your moans at the table.

You practically have to beg him to put a collar on you, and then when he does, it's heaven for you both.

He is a soft dom and never wants to be like those rough doms with their subs because he thinks it's plain disrespectful.

Days when he wants to be the submissive one, he walks up to you with that begging look on him, begins to kiss your neck and whimper when you don't touch him.

The day of your wedding, he wore his kilt and as you drove to the dinner after the ceremony, he made you give him a blowjob, he needed release after seeing you in that outfit.

You had to wait in the car longer because he couldn't find something to wipe his cum off your face.

Mirror sex is a must for him, he loves to watch you bounce on his cock and loves to watch your reactions.

He creates a dungeon in your home for every need you both may have, it's well hidden so no guest has to see it.

Loves to play with the idea of making his mates watch as he fucks you dumb.

Hates to be called master, he doesn't want to feel as if you aren't his equal during sex.

One thing that he always makes sure happens is aftercare. That is the most important thing in a healthy sex life and if he wants to keep you healthy after fucking you raw, it is essential.

One time, he was so drunk he asked the 141 men to join you guys the next time you had sex, and they did. Now they have pictures to prove it.

Hickeys are his favourite mark on your body, bite marks too but hickeys turn him on in many ways.

He loves it when you mark him and asks you to always give him a fresh one, especially if the same person at the market doesn't get he is married, he will proudly wear those hickeys.

Condoms were important until one time he saw how his cum leaked from all of your holes, and now he begs to just fuck you without one, consent on this is key.

Has been forced to apologise to the front door neighbours because they saw you both fuck on the windowsill.

Car sex is his secret favourite place.

Guilty pleasure is to be caught, like that one time he was turned on by your body at a funeral and took you to the parking lot of the church to fuck you. His family didn't notice but the priest's stare was like he knew.

A/N: The next part will be short, so pardon me for it.

He came home late, annoyed and horny. His phone filled with the messages you sent him while he was away on the mission. Your lewd photos all displayed for him as he walked away from his locker, hiding the screen from any prying eyes. The boner he had gotten was noticed by most of his mates. "See you still with the lad/lass." One commented and he looked up confused.

Soon after that, he was inside your shared bedroom, 2 a.m. and with the worst boner he had gotten since the wedding. He knows he has consent at all times but he needed to wake you up. Wanted your both to create the perfect ring around his cock. "Hey, handsome/beautiful, wake up." He whispers and with a few more murmurs of sweet nothings, you now are on your knees. Mouth opened pretty for his aching cock. "Fuck, just like that, be a good slut fer me." His rough hands bobbing your head, and his groans and whimpers when you gave him that look filled the shared room. "Oh don't you give me that look, you slut." He slaps your face then leans in to kiss it.

Your drool and his pre-cum, make for the perfect taste. "Oh, fuck...oh fuck...yer dirty slut, taking me cock like this...fuck...just like that.." You look up at him, getting drunk on his seed. He chuckles and pulls you back up, you sit on his lap and he kisses your neck. "Yer know how much I missed this body of yours? yer are a nasty one, sending me those pictures but I bet this is what yer wanted, eh?" He nibbles on the soft skin. "I love you, my sweet R/N," he whispers.

"Don't yer ever leave me, okay?" He grabs a tissue and wipes your mouth.

Tags: @sgnt-mactavish @anonymuslydumb @liyanahelena (tagged certified Soap sluts<3)