#it be worse if it did hit bonnie

[neskastree]

[criminalamnesia]

Hiii!! I hope you're doing well :))

I just loveee the traitor series. Do you plan on making a part 5 or more?

thank you! here’s part five :)

the other parts can be found in my COD masterlist, which is here

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

I’ll proofread later :))

you stormed out of the gym, eyesight blurry from hot tears. you weren’t crying because you were sad— no. you were furious. furious at how simon was so fucking stubborn. at how he thought he was in the right.

droplets of blood marked your footsteps as you made your way back to the infirmary. you weren’t particularly anxious to be yelled at by the doctor, but getting it over with as soon as possible was ideal.

“bonnie, y’alrigh’?”

soap. you hadn’t even seen him, so lost in your thoughts. you blinked away tears and ignored the scot, continuing to make your way down the hall in silence.

the sound of hurried footsteps was unmistakable behind you. soap wasn’t taking silence for an answer, apparently.

“bonnie, please—” he began, the drawl of his voice catapulting your mind to the past. to better days.

days when soap had patched you up after a fight, his fingers nimble as he stitched up a cut in your thigh.

“s’it hurt?” he spoke, voice gravelly because of his hushed tone.

you shook your head. your head was tilted back, eyes staring up at the ceiling but not truly seeing. you were worried sick— you and soap were the only ones who’d made it to the safe house so far. the others should’ve beaten you there, and now they were over an hour late.

“bonnie, ‘m sure they’re alrigh’,” he told you, poking the needle through skin. you barely felt it, too hyped up on fear and adrenaline.

“they should’ve beaten us here, y’know that—” you began, but he tutted, quickly cutting you off.

“cannae think like tha’, bonnie. they’ll be here any second, aye?”

he stops his stitching, his face tilting up and away from your leg. you faintly register the feeling of his eyes on you.

you felt lost— floating in sea of numbness. your mind is mulling over the millions of possibilities— possibilities in which they never return.

you’d never felt this way before, and the five of you had endured far worse.

the only thing that was different this time was the fact that you and simon were together. you’d never explicitly told the rest of the task force, but they knew.

johnny knew why you were so worked up. he understood.

he reaches a hand up, his dirtied fingers lightly tilting your chin down so you’re face to face.

“y’there?” he asks, his hand dropping from your chin. he moves to squeeze one of your hands, pulling you back down to the ground.

you give a small nod, fingers moving to intertwine with his. he smiles— not his usual playful expression, but a true, grateful, relieved smile.

“im here,” you tell him. he releases your hand, pulling away from your skin, giving your hand a light pat before fully retreating.

“‘m almost finished, yeah? then I’ll go lookin’—”

“no need.”

it’s kyle, breathing heavily as he shuffles into the room. price and ghost are right on his heels, the three men making the room feel much smaller than it did a moment ago.

“you two good?” kyle asks, a small frown on his lips as he takes note of your bloodied leg.

you nod, your eyes flitting from gaz, to price, to simon— who is now moving towards you. he crouches down so he’s eye level with you. you meet his gaze, and although he doesn’t say it, you know what he’s thinking.

he’s relieved, and it’s a deeper relief than usual. it’s heavier, more profound, because he’s started to let you in. you’re more than teammates now, and it doesn’t truly hit ghost until this moment.

“im good,” you tell him quietly. he nods, glances down at where johnny is tying off your stitches.

johnny must notice ghost’s stare, because he breaks his focus and looks up at his lieutenant with a cheeky smirk.

“no worries, LT. made sure to do ma best work,” he grins and shoots the other man a wink, to which ghost grunts, unamused.

the heavy weight of a palm on your shoulder breaks you from the memory. you move without thinking, bloodied fist swinging as you whirl around to attack whoever laid a hand on you.

then you remember— soap.

johnny narrowly dodges your assault, his eyes widened as your fist barely clips him.

“steamin’ jesus!” he speaks, throwing his hands up in surrender and taking a step back from you.

“i was jus’ tryin’ to make sure ya were alrigh’! yer bleedin’, bonnie.”

you blink as you slowly escape your stupor. you’d completely lost yourself in the memory, and you didn’t know why.

probably because your brain was trying to comfort itself the only way it knew how— by seeking comfort from the people closest to you.

old habits, right?

old fucking habits.

“don’t touch me,” you seethe, eyes narrowing as you glare at the scot. he frowns, bites his lip, but doesn’t say anything.

like a kicked puppy. you can’t help but feel sympathetic before you wrestle that feeling back down. he wasn’t sympathetic for you— why should you be for him?

you look at him for a moment longer, taking in his appearance. he looks fine, and that angers you just the slightest bit more.

“look, i— i ken we really messed up, and sorry cannae fix tha’, but please, bonnie. a’least let us try—”

“I don’t owe you anything, mactavish.” you told him, gaze cold as you met his eyes. “and you’re right, sorry can’t fix it. nothing can fix it; so, stop trying.” you step forward, raising a hand as you point a finger into his chest.

“the four of you need to leave me the fuck alone. frankly, I couldn’t care less about how the four of you feel. about how he feels. you did what you did, believed what you believed, and now you have to live with that.”

johnny’s frown deepens as his eyes glance down at the finger you’ve got digging into his sternum.

“you deserve to feel like shit,” you tell him. “and anything you feel— how sorry you are— just know that I suffered a hundred times more in that chair, locked up in that room. so the next time you wanna watch me from outside the infirmary, or you wanna put your fucking hands on me,” your jaw is clenched, fire licking at your veins as you speak to him.

“remember what you did. remember that nothing can fix it. remember that you’re dead to me— all of you are— and that I never would’ve let that happen to any of you.”

“and I hope it hurts like hell, mactavish. I hope it eats you alive, and that you never find peace because you don’t deserve it.”

you drop your hand, your eyes still on his.

“and I hope you tell the rest of them I said that. especially him.”

you turn then, take a steadying breath, and keep walking.

soap watches you go without another word.

“that was stupid,” the doctor chastises you, her lips pressed into a thin line as she examines your knuckles.

“you blatantly went against my one rule for you. I shouldn’t have even let you out of bed, but you’re too damn stubborn! so I thought I’d give you some grace, but there you go— leaving my iv pole in the hall. bloodying your knuckles. I should let one of the newbies patch you up,” she grumbles, her gloved hands cool against your skin.

over the time you’d spent in the infirmary, you and the doctor had formed an odd bond. it was almost as if you were friends, but she always kept things strictly professional.

but you’d catch her giving you sad glances sometimes. you knew she was upset for you, angry for you, but she would never speak on it. that was okay with you.

it was enough to know that someone was on your side.

“sorry, doc. it’s not like it was planned,” you tell her, and her eyes flick up to meet yours. the look on your face told her everything she needed to know.

she didn’t push the topic. instead, she finished patching you up in silence. wrapping your knuckles in bandages, she gave them one last once-over before sending you on your way.

“kicking me out?” you asked her, raising your eyebrows.

she nodded, her eyes scanning the chart in her hands.

“if you’re okay enough to throw a punch, i think you’re okay enough to return to your quarters. unless you want to stay,” she says, and its unspoken, but you know what she’s implying.

unless you want to stay behind that door, guarded from the 141. unless you don’t want to go back to your quarters and see it as you’d left it before they’d tied you up.

unless it would be too painful to leave.

you shook your head. “im good. thank you, doc. really.”

the doctor gave a small smile and nodded. “of course. you’re due back in a week for a check up, alright? I need to check on those bruises and mending bones.”

you nod and give her a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “wouldn’t miss it.”

she bids you goodbye before turning and disappearing behind a white curtain. you inhale deeply before heading for the door.

when you step into the hallway, it’s quiet. you pass through base with relative ease, quickly slipping past anyone you come across in the halls.

you don’t see any of the 141, and you’re grateful. you couldn’t handle another interaction with them today— and you didn’t know how much longer you could remain civil.

once you reached your door, you pushed into the dusty darkness of the room. it’d been a while since you’d been in here, and although you were glad to finally be free of the smell and sounds of the infirmary, you weren’t particularly happy to be back in this room.

this room, which was down the hall from the rest of the 141.

this room, which held memorabilia of your time with your team.

this room, which you swore still smelled like simon.

you grit your teeth, willing yourself to stop thinking about him. he was fucking everywhere, and you were starting to believe you’d never be free of him and the 141.

your memories. your pain. your scars. no matter how much you healed and moved on from what happened, it would always be there in the back of your mind. it would sneak up on you when you least expected it; it would haunt your dreams at night.

it would leave you waking up screaming for mercy.

it would keep you untrusting for the years to come.

you flicked on the light and scanned the room. it had been upended, clothes strewn across the floor and picture frames shattered.

in the midst of it all, a vase of long dead flowers sits atop your desk.

there’s a little note hanging off the vase. against your better judgement, you reach for it. the paper feels scratchy against your fingers, and the scribbled pencil inside seems the tiniest bit faded.

your eyes scan the note.

‘You were right.

Hope you can understand.’

— sr

you pick up the vase and throw it against the wall. glass shatters. dead flowers fall to the floor.

your knees give out and you crumple to the floor, sitting amidst reminders of once was.

you let yourself cry for the first time in a while.

[rememberwren]

/•Harmless Fun 2•\

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Further Parts

You find out the walls are thin in your new apartment.

Roommate!ghoap/fem!reader

*

It’s the hottest day of the month when you move in. If you use that as an excuse to wear your shortest pair of shorts, that’s all it is—an excuse, flimsy as the floaty, sleeveless, polyester top that skims your navel. Even dressed light, the sweat drips down the small of your back and slicks your palms as you work on moving boxes into the elevator and up to the top floor. Every step inside is a blessing, the air conditioning bursting over you, sweet icy bliss.

Johnny opens the door. He’s wearing a tee shirt stretched thin across his chest and a pair of loose cotton pants. He leans against the doorway, reminiscent to how he had the day he showed you the apartment. You had thought he was showing off then, but now you think that maybe it eases the weight off his leg.

“Well, what a bonnie sight you are. Here, let me.” He tries to take the box from you.

“No, I’ve got it—“

“I insist—“

“Really—“

“Lass, I will hit you with my cane—“

You gape at the threat. The box comes loose from your hands and he tucks it easily under one arm, giving you a smug raise of his brows. “I’m disabled, but I’ll have to be dead before I let a pretty girl carry her own furniture.”

“Consider yourself iced,” Simon says, appearing as if from thin air. His arms are bared by his tank top revealing one impressive sleeve of tattoos—as if he wasn’t painfully attractive enough to begin with. Down below his chin is a black surgical mask, ready to be tugged over his mouth and nose out in public. “No moving furniture, Soap.”

“You’re worse than those nurses at the clinic,” Johnny chides, picking up the freshest step of what must be a long, frustrating dance between them both. “I know my own limits better than anyone, don’t I?”

“Wrong,” Simon chuckles darkly. He takes a step closer to Johnny and puts a hand on the nape of his neck, calloused thumb moving along the smooth muscle of his trapezius. He stage whispers: “I know you better than you know yourself, Johnny-boy.”

He takes the box from Johnny’s lax hands. Both of you stare after his figure as Simon turns to walk the box to what will be your bedroom from now on. Judging by the heavy, heated look in Johnny’s eye, you aren’t the only one affected by Simon’s display.

“Did he…call you Soap?”

#

“It was his callsign in the military,” Simon explains, patiently waiting for you to find the perfect grip on a box of your toiletries. He has three boxes—of your book collection no less—stacked in his arms with all the ease of Jenga pieces. But you know these won’t come tumbling down. Heaving the box into your arms, you shift it to your hip and wipe the hair from your forehead.

“What’s a callsign?”

“A simple identifier that can be used over radio or transmitter. Safer sometimes than using names.”

“What was your callsign?”

“Ghost.”

“Ghost.” You roll the name around on your tongue as you both walk into the building, the doorman politely holding the door open for you both. You glance at Simon out of the corner of your eye, the mask drawn up to hide his identity. “You know—yours makes a little sense. But Soap?”

The corner of Simon’s eyes crinkle. “You’ll have to ask him about it. He loves to talk about himself.”

With Simon’s help, you are able to empty the moving truck by early evening, just in time to enjoy the coldest shower of your life (the first of many in your new apartment, you’re sure). The water pressure is excellent, beating down on your flushed skin until your teeth chatter and you turn the temperature to something less punishing.

By the time you walk into the living room, convinced you’ll have to make a run for groceries of your own (or just Door Dash something—but fuck if that wasn’t an allowance in your joyless budget), the smell of pizza reaches your nose.

Johnny and Simon are on the loveseat, an open pie on the coffee table in front of them. There are a few toppings you’d have to pick off, but nothing that wasn’t salvageable. Simon is freshly showered as well, hair a shade darker blond than usual, the ends curling just a bit.

“First dinner in the new place, on us,” Johnny explains, passing you a slice. He scoots over—clearly expecting you to take the narrow spot between him and Simon, though that’s the last place you would have thought to seat yourself.

“Thank you,” you say, touched. Simon slips off of the couch, giving you plenty of room. Your heart plummets for a moment—except he’s only gone to grab you a beer. But even after cracking it open with his bare hands for you, he sits in the armchair closest to Johnny and leaves the couch for you both. Sheepish, you say: “Sorry I stole your spot.”

“You didn’t,” he says quietly, sipping from his own bottle. Then he hesitates and reaches out, stretching one long arm to clink bottles with you and Johnny. He mutters, not unkindly: “Cheers.”

#

That night, you can’t sleep. The first night in a new place is always strange. You had hoped that the physical exertion of the day would tire you out, but your brain felt wired, eyes floating around the room to take in the new space and commit it to memory. You’re still awake when you hear the quiet hum of the television shut off in the living room. You hear quiet voices—a door open and shut. A shower runs for a while.

If today was any indication, you truly had high hopes that you would get along well with Simon and Johnny. Perhaps you could even grow to be friends and not just roommates. And maybe eventually you wouldn’t be thirsting after them like a dog—

—a sound on the other side of the wall, the one separating your bedroom from theirs. Your breath catches. Surely you had misheard. But then it comes again: a throaty, masculine groan. Immediately you flush hot all over, rolling onto your belly and burying your face in your pillow. Surely they aren’t—?

There’s a rumble of voices, just loud enough for you to make out Johnny’s name, and it is answered by a filthy, breathy moan. They are. Holy shit. Your hot roommates are having sex in the next room.

Your cunt aches, glaringly empty. You’re not going to do anything about it. That would be insane, wouldn’t it? To touch yourself while your neighbors fucked on the other side of the wall? But God, your body had no sense of morals, not even a daydream of right or wrong. Your nipples had hardened into aching points begging for the dextrous touch of a lover, your entire sex throbbing and flushed. Perhaps you should grab your earbuds and give them some privacy, but instead you find yourself holding your breath, desperate for the next noise.

What exactly are they doing, you wonder? You find it hard to even imagine the two of them kissing, though Simon had leaned in and placed a peck on Johnny’s lips before going downstairs to help you with your furniture. You’d never had a very good imagination. But judging by the sound of skin on skin from the next room, they are doing far more than kissing, and the thought has you clenching your thighs together.

You have no way of knowing how long it lasts. It’s like a fever dream, your head hot and floaty whenever one of Johnny’s moans is answered by Simon’s deep, throaty chuckles. There comes a strangled shout, hastily bitten off (or covered, perhaps by a hand or smothered by a lover’s mouth) and you have to bury your face in your pillow all over again in case any stray, desperate noises come floating out of you, too.

Now you’re free, one hand cupping your own breast through the flimsy tank top you sleep in and the other slipping into your panties. The angle is all wrong thanks to you being on your belly, but there’s no penetration needed tonight, not when a few wet swipes over your aching clit has you climbing that blissful peak and shattering into pieces, all your breathy sounds lost to your pillow.

Rolling onto your back, you suck in air, panting into the darkness. You whisper: “Fuck.”

You’re so screwed, though not nearly screwed as you would like to be.

[countcvnt]

Dwell On It

[Ghost x Fem!Reader x Soap]

Summary: Your roommate hits you with the worst sentence you've ever heard in your life, and you can't help but dwell on it. Warnings: MINORS DNI!! 18+ Oral (f! receiving), pet names (doll/love), praise, threesome, not beta'd Word Count: 3.2k A/N: Was gonna write this with like ghost not wearing his mask, but i was already halfway through so... Mask Stays On During Sex. (don't ask why i didn't just have him take it off, idk...)

“Fuck!” You get home and slam the door of your apartment.

You want to scream louder, but you don’t want anyone to complain. You kick your shoes off at the door, a little too violently, and your roommate walks out from his room.

“You good?” His voice is full of confusion, he looks tired.

“Sorry, Hunter,” You groan, “I didn’t know you were here…”

You sigh and walk towards your room. He rubs his eyes and watches you closely. He squints at you. “What happened?” You scrunch your nose up. “I don’ wanna talk about it.” You mumble, entering your room. “It’s just, I have to do everything! All the time! Dishes? Me. Trash? Me. Paperwork? Me!” You want to scream again.

“Oh, so you do wanna talk about it?” Hunter cocks a brow at you.

You refrain from swinging. “Hunter, I’m tired. Okay?” You walk towards your bathroom and Hunter trails behind you.

“You still going out tonight?” He asks, like he’s planning something. “WIth those, uh, big military men?” You nod. “Well, tell them something for me?” You nod again. “You need your pussy ate.”

Your mouth drops. Hunter leaves your room. His name can’t even form. You're stunned. Your roommate has successfully stunned you. You stand in your bathroom, for a moment and hear Hunter’s door click. You come to your senses and rush towards his bedroom. You jiggle the doorknob. Locked.

“I won’t be here tonight.”

You let out a frustrated scream into your hands and walk back into your room. You look at the alarm on your nightstand and see you have two hours before you have to be at the bar. You groan. Two hours to dwell on the words Hunter had just said to you.

You sit at the bar, face contorted with displeasure as you wait for Simon and Johnny. You sip your water and huff. Your feet kick off the barstool and you keep thinking about Hunter. You wish you would have throttled him.

“Hey bonnie! Oh- You look-”

“Happy to see us.” Simon lets out a low rumble, causing you to turn towards them.

You lighten up. Or try to. “Sorry, had a horrible day. Roommate decided to make it worse and go to his room with no remorse.”

Johnny cocks his head. “How’d he make it worse?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “I came home stressed, and he said the most untrue statement I’ve ever heard!”

“Which was?” Simon asks.

You want to not tell them, but they’re curious. And you’re still butthurt about it. “That I ‘need my pussy ate’!” You exclaim. “Which,” You put a finger up, “is so far from the truth- Like? Why would he say that?”

“Did he offer to do it?” Johnny really asking the important questions is pissing you off.

“No!”

“Bad roommate etiquette.” Simon smiles. The corners of his eyes crinkling gives it away.

“Shut up.” You mumble and sip your water. Johnny laughs. His hand hits your back as he continues to laugh. “What?” You give him a blank stare.

“I think your roommate was onto something.” Johnny can’t stop laughing. You want to get up and leave. You look at Simon, who is also finding amusement in your situation. You want to die. You stand from your chair and roll your eyes at them. Johnny reaches for your arm but you don’t yank away. “Where ye goin’, bonnie, we just got here!”

You pout at him. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” Johnny gives you a concerned look. Hunter’s words run through your head, ‘so you do wanna talk about it?’ You do want to talk about it, but not right here. In front of everyone. “I don’t need that. Never have, never will.” You stand firm on your words. And let something slip that you normally only would if you’ve been drinking. “Not like it’s that great anyway.”

Simon and Johnny both stare at you. Johnny’s eyes widen. “You’ve never- Wait a minute.” Johnny collects his thoughts. “You’ve never had some good head?”

You want to hide. Run to the bathroom and escape through the window. As if either of them would let you do that… Knowing you have nowhere to run, you answer. “No. I guess not.”

“Y’know,” Johnny hops off his seat and locks eyes with you, moving closer. “I can’t speak for Ghost,” he motions towards his friend, “but I’m sure I could change that.”

Your stomach flips. The butterflies in your stomach are rapidly turning into bumblebees. Your eyes widen and you look at Simon. He moves himself from his stool and is looming over you. You look up at him.

“Our hotel isn’t far from here, doll.”

Your mouth is agape. “Oh.” You say, placing a hand on your chest, ready to clutch your non-existent pearls. Without thinking, you speak up. “My roommate’s out tonight. We can go to mine?”

“Too dangerous.” Simon shakes his head. Johnny nods. You put your hands up. “Anyway,” Simon continues, “don't need any noise complaints from your neighbors.”

“Oh?” Johnny smirks at him. “Think yer gonna have her screamin’ that loud?” Simon rolls his eyes. You're standing beside the bar, baffled. All you can do is blink up at them. “What’d’ya say?” Johnny questions you. “Wanna come back with us?”

“You'll never wanna leave.” Simon's voice is gruff, sure. He's so sure of himself.

“Y'know what,” you nod, “yes. I don't think I can pass this up…”

Johnny seems relieved. He begins to leave the bar, you trail behind him, and Simon walks out behind you. Johnny is quick to wave down a cab. The three of you pile in the back, and you are so very sure that they can hear your heart pounding against your ribcage. You think the taxi driver can by the way he looks back at you when Simon gives him the hotel name.

His eyes linger on yours, you give him a smile, really not wanting him to think poorly of your currently awkward situation. You're in the middle of Simon and Johnny. Johnny's hand grips your thigh, just where your short black dress ends. He's almost massaging in. Simon places hand on your other thigh, giving it a tight squeeze. You look up at Simon and see he's looking at the driver through the rear view mirror. His eyes cut down to you and you swallow hard.

The cab reaches the hotel and you bring out your purse. Johnny is quick to stop you from paying and Simon pulls out his wallet. Johnny exits and helps you out. “Thank you,” you look back at the taxi driver and wave at him.

As you three enter the hotel, Simon walks up beside you, his hand snaking around your waist. “Did you thank and wave at the cab driver?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Yer so sweet.” Johnny compliments you. His hand grabs hold of yours. “Can't believe ya've never had-”

“Sh,” you swat at him with your free hand, when someone walks past the three of you. Johnny smirks at your reaction. The three of you make it into the elevator and Johnny hits the floor they're on. You're standing in the elevator; Johnny, you, then Simon. Johnny is holding your hand and Simon is still latched onto you like a lifeline. You're watching the floor number go up when Johnny steps in front of you, his grip on your hand tightening. “What?” You whisper.

“Y'know, we've been on a couple dates-”

“Is that what those were?” You genuinely didn't have a clue.

Simon stifles a laugh when Johnny is taken aback. “Yeah!” He groans, “Not the point. We haven' kissed, bonnie.”

Your mouth forms an ‘o’. “You can change that, you know.”

Without a word, Johnny leans in and kisses you. Your heart, which is still pounding, is now in your throat. Simon is watching the both of you. He shifts, situating himself, his eyes and arm never leave you. The elevator stops. Simon's grip on you tightens and Johnny pulls away. He moves back to the side of you and you're left standing there, eyes locked with the woman stepping on.

“Oh my,” the words leave her mouth seemingly without thinking.

You smile at her. Awkward but genuine. Simon directs your attention to him. Johnny is still holding your hand, he's watching you and Simon now. Simon leans down and moves his mask up slightly. “My turn, love.”

You eagerly push yourself up and into the kiss, forgetting a woman was in the corner of the elevator. Johnny's hand tenses around yours, his thumb rubbing the back of it while you kiss Simon. The elevator is abruptly stopped and the lady immediately exits. Simon pulls away and you're left staring up at him, like he’s hung the moon and stars.

“Guess she wanted to take the stairs. Can't imagine why…”

The elevator goes up a couple more floors and stops on Simon's and Johnny’s. Johnny leads you out of the elevator and Simon follows you, not letting you go. You follow Johnny down the hall and reach their room. You swallow hard, heart beating in your ears. He unlocks the door and swings it open, motioning for you to go in. Simon escorts you into the room and Johnny closes the door behind the three of you. It locks, the click echoes through the room.

“So… Men,” you look at the both of them, “what now?”

“I think it's sorta obvious,” Johnny smiles at you. “If at any time you are uncomfortable, let us know.”

You nod. “Of course. Um,” Your palms are sweaty against the outsides of your thighs now, “how do we start?” They both stare at you. “What?!” You whine, “I’ve only ever had one serious boyfriend and this was not his forte!”

Johnny and Simon both give you solemn looks. You want to hide again. You can't help but feel like you're being judged. You shift your weight and keep yourself planted, from running away.

“Simon,” Johnny looks at his friend, “wanna do the honors? Since you're so sure you can get her to scream?”

You want both of them. “We have the whole night.”

Johnny perks up. “You wanna stay the whole night?”

“I mean, I can-”

“You're so cute.” Simon remarks. “I'm sure we'll find something to occupy us all night.”

And so your long night begins.

“You can take that off…” You whisper to Simon, “I know your name, why can’t I know your face?”

“It’s better this way, love.” Simon pulls the bottom of his mask up, uncovering his mouth again.

The mysteriousness… The anonymity is hot… You will not deny it. But you want to see him. You want to gently touch his face and kiss him softly. By the look in his eyes, he wants to kiss you too, but maybe not as gently. You reach up and cup Simon’s face, bringing him towards you. Simon lets you. He lets you grab him and place a soft kiss against his lips.

You’re so soft and sweet. And he has every intent of making you his.

“If you two are gonna make out, can I-” Johnny motions towards you. Simon sighs, pulling away from you. “I wanna taste you, bonnie…” It is at that exact moment you realize just how convincing of a man Johnny is. You nod at him. Johnny moves behind you, causing you to cock your head. You look over your shoulder at him.

Simon seems to know what’s about to happen.

Johnny’s hands grab your waist and he kisses your neck before dropping to his knees. ‘Oh,’ You think as you look back at Simon, ‘he’s doing it right here.’ Johnny moves to a sitting position, pats your thigh for you to spread your legs slightly, and you do. He scoots himself between your legs and is now on the floor, between you and Simon.

Simon gives you a moment before kissing you again. He observes you. Johnny looks up at you as he grabs your thighs with a grip you have never felt before, and he hitches your dress up some.

“No panties, huh?” Johnny smirks at you, his fingers going straight for your entrance.

“No!” You jump at his warm hands, “Those were not an option with this dress.”

Simon and Johnny both nod. Simon begins to kiss you once more, as one of Johnny’s fingers push into you. You moan into Simon’s mouth and you grab his forearms, tightly. Johnny kisses your thigh and pushes another finger inside of you while Simon slips his tongue into your mouth. Simon’s hands hold you in place, they grip your hips. You are sure you are going to have marks in the morning.

Johnny is good with his fingers. Phenomenal even. The way you’re being kissed by Simon while Johnny nips and sucks on your thigh and fucks with his fingers is magical. You let out a high pitched whine and Simon pulls back.

“You feel alright?” He asks. You can only nod. You try to answer but only whimpers and moans are escaping you. “You’re doin’ great, doll.”

Your whole body is on fire. You can’t think straight and your stomach is in knots. Your eye clinch shut and finally words form, “I’m gonna-”

Johnny’s fingers pull out of you and you gasp. You look down at him in shock and confusion. He places his fingers in his mouth and sucks on them. Simon watches Johnny and then looks back at you. You pout. Hard. Words aren’t forming again and you are a mumbling mess.

“Use your words, love.” Simon smiles at you.

“Why’d you stop! Please continue.”

“Anything for you, my sweet girl.” Johnny looks up at you and you realize his pupils are dilated. His big blue eyes are dark with lust and hunger. He dives in. He is slowly lapping at your pussy and you’re tensing up again.

Simon steadies you and keeps you from falling forward. You are holding onto Simon like your life depends on it. Johnny’s tongue hits your clit and your body jolts, your back arching. Simon’s lips latch onto your neck and he begins to suck on the sensitive skin, he still keeps you steady. You are moaning out and crying for Johnny; for him to let you finish.

His name falls from your lips, “Johnny!” You whimper, legs clenching together. He is quick to hold your legs apart. Your orgasm hits hard and fast. You’re shaking above Johnny, holding onto Simon, who is still sucking at your neck.

Johnny pushes himself back between your legs and stands up behind you. “You’re so good,” Johnny turns you towards him and his mouth and chin is sticky from the slick of your pussy. “You’re bein’ so good for us.” He gives you a kiss and you’re still trying to collect yourself.

Simon pulls away and you stare at him. He’s looking at you, his eyes darker than Johnny’s. His smile has dropped. His face has dropped. He is watching you with a predatory gaze.

“Your turn,” Johnny smacks Simon on the shoulder.

“Take your dress and shoes off.” His voice… You immediately comply. “On the bed.” Once again, you do as he says. “Get behind her Johnny.”

Johnny seems thrilled. He must know what is about to happen. You are set at the end of the bed, and Johnny crawls behind you. He lets you lean back onto him, he lets you get comfortable. You watch as Simon stalks towards the bed, towards you. You are putty in his and Johnny’s hands. You are sure by the end of the night, you would do absolutely anything or them.

Simon drops to his knees in front of you and looks with the same hunger Johnny watched you with earlier. You, in your fucked out daze, could still pick out the difference in their stares. Johnny’s gaze was filled with a sweetness, one that gave you butterflies. Simon’s gaze is wild, full of fire, and has you gripping the sheets before he’s touching you.

Johnny’s hands are rubbing your biceps as he whispers praises in your ear. You’re too focused on Simon to really catch what Johnny is saying. Your heart is pounding again, and you want nothing more than to be touched. You need Simon to touch you.

“If this is too much-”

“Let us know.”

You are nodding, violently. “Please,” You beg, “please just touch me.” Simon’s smile returns, and it’s lethal. His hands grip your thighs and you flinch. You can already see marks from Johnny’s earlier grasp on you. Simon begins to bite and suck at your thighs, a lot harder than Johnny had. One his hands moves up your thigh and two fingers push into you. His movements are somewhat harsher than Johnny’s. He is no way harming you, but Johnny was so gentle. The difference is jarring, in a good way.

Simon’s mouth moves up your thigh and he easily finds your clitoris. He sucks at the bud as his fingers pick up the pace inside of you. You are crying out for him, begging him to go faster, harder.

“Sure ye can take it?”

“Yes, please-”

Simon doesn't argue. He gets a little more rough with you. His hands holding your hips down holds you tighter. Johnny’s mouth connects with your shoulder and he kisses you softly, still giving you praises. Your hips buck slightly, but Simon is holding them too tightly for you to go anywhere. You let out a cry of pleasure. One of Johnny’s hands is on your arm, rubbing circles into the skin, while the other goes towards your chest, settling at your breast. He begins to massage it, before pinching your nipple.

Your back is arching again. Your hips are chasing after Simon’s fingers. Your body is hot again, your stomach is knotting up. Your toes curl and you let out a loud whine.

“Simon!” You’re gripping the sheets. “Please- So close-” You moan.

“So good,” Johnny reassures you, “Bein’ such a good girl for us.”

It sends you over the edge. Your body is shaking. You’re seeing stars and don’t want either of them to stop touching you. Simon pulls away from you as you’re coming down. He looks up at you, and your eyes are on Johnny. You’re breathing heavily. You look down at Simon through half lidded eyes and he stands up. He is so fucking big.

“I’m glad-” You start, “I’m glad my roommate was an asshole.”

“I’m glad he didn’ offer to do that for you.” Johnny presses his forehead to your shoulder.

You let out a soft laugh. “He definitely would not have done that…” You begin to sit up. Johnny and Simon are quick to stop you.

“Where are ye goin’?”

“I, uh, was gonna-”

“You’re not leavin’ now, are ya, doll?” Simon asks. He seems genuinely curious. He doesn’t want you to go. Not yet.

“I don’t have to. The night is still young…” Johnny hugs your waist tightly as you say that. “And I’d love to repay the both of you…”

It was definitely going to be a long, eventful night.

[mrsparrasblog]

Traitor

„Please Lt, ah beg ye oan mah haun 'n' knees fur it.“

„No.“ The conversation went like this for hours, with Johnny begging on his knees for Ghost to go on a date with you.

„Please, Lt.“

„How did that even happen, Johnny?“

„Weel, me 'n' Garrick thought yi'll need tae git leid, sae we made a fake Instagram 'n' wrote bonnie girls pretending we wur ye.“

„I don't need to get laid, so tell her I postpone.“ He certainly needed a good lay, but that wasn’t something he could tell Soap. He was his CO officer after all, and the way he intruded on his privacy made him want to rip off Soap's mohawk and make him eat the hair.

„A dinnae want ye tae kip wi' her, a'm wantin' ye tae gang oan a ill date wi' her 'n' mak' her forgoat ye,“ the Scotsman said, letting his true intentions slowly slip.

„You want me to treat her badly? What's wrong with you, MacTavish?“ Simon Riley was a lot, but not a man who treated a bird badly, or else his mom would come back from the grave just to swat him, and he would have deserved that hit.

„Please, Lt.“ Johnny begged, the despair visible in his icy eyes.

„Ye like her?“ And by Soap's stunned reaction, Simon knew everything he needed to know. That idiot pretended to be him, made this naive girl want him, and fell in love with her. And now he can't have her because she is head over heels, but not with Johnny.

„Yes, please, Lt.“

„No.“

„I’ll give you my ration of tea for the next three months.“ That was something Simon couldn’t resist. Extra Earl Grey—he did worse things for less.

„Okay, I’ll go on a date with her and let her down slowly for you to comfort her.“

---------

Simon believed himself to be a determined man who doesn’t change his opinion just because of a good-looking woman. Well, this changed when he saw you waiting at the bar for him, all dolled up. Your dress matched your heels and the color of your nails; you prepared yourself for him—just for him. That was new. And when you hugged him tight as a greeting and the smell of cookies wafted into his rugged nose, Johnny's little crush was forgotten.

He was sure you wouldn’t mind; you were here for him and not for Johnny. He was better looking after all, he thought.

All he could do was listen to your sweet voice as you explained your job with excitement, how your nose scrunched when you laughed, and how you threw him those fuck-me eyes. He was curious if you’d give Johnny the same eyes if your hand touched his abs too, if you chewed on your red lips.

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

Johnny was on his way to play the knight in shining armor for you, comforting you after the big brute broke your innocent heart. But when he walked past Ghost's room, he could hear the desperate pleas and whimpers from a woman.

„Si, please, need more,“ you moaned, trying to get him to finally fuck you after he gave you orgasm after orgasm.

„Need you to be ready for me, love.“

…

„So big, Si.“

„You can take it, love.“

And in that moment, Johnny realized he was betrayed by his best friend and brother-in-arms.

[hitomisuzuya]

Gamer! Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Fingering. Degradation. Edging.

I'd like to tag and thank @wanderingconstellations and @scara6 for letting me run with this idea❤️ Here is what I came up with. In honor of the Five Nights at Freddy's movie coming out next month, that's the game Scara is playing.

The frustration radiating from Scaramouche was almost physically tangible in his room. His eyes were narrowed into a concentrated glare on his computer screen. One hand was poised over the buttons on the keyboard.

The other was thrusting three fingers angrily into your cunt. Your slick was starting to cake on the insides of your thighs, he'd been at it for so long. Your hand was gripping the edge of his computer desk right with every push of his fingers, to the point where you were clawing at the surface. Sometimes he kissed your sweet spot. But, most time he didn't.

"Be-ah-be careful, Scara. I think," You trailed off, a strong jolt of pleasure shooting straight to your throbbing clit when his fingers suddenly hit your sweet spot. Admist the hazy cloud of pleasure, you are still trying to help him out, "I think Freddy is..up..ah, ah,..and about," You could barely get the sentence out.

"Shut up, slut. I'm trying to concentrate," He snapped, withdrawing his fingers to smack your clit, making your body tense before you cried out loudly.

Scaramouche could feel it. You were right, Freddy was gone from his usual place when he checked the cameras. Any second now, he was going to pop out and rock his shit.

It had happened 4 times already, and he wasn't going to let the stupid bear beat him again. The pace of his fingers got harsher, squelching slowly in and out of your cunt, not really caring if he hit your sweet spot or not.

He growled in frustrated concentration, straining to hear any little noise in the game that would warn him of Freddy's impending arrival. You let out some desperate whimpers, moving your hips to seek for friction from his fingers.

Scaramouche grit his teeth. It had been quiet for awhile now. Foxy and Bonnie were on the move as well, but Freddy was nowhere to be seen. He knew he was in Freddy's crosshairs, it was just a matter of when.

"Scara.." You whimpered, however you received no response. Not even an angry thrust of his fingers. He suddenly reached up, pinching your nipples roughly. Bonnie hadn't moved, so he focused on watching Foxy (because he was your favorite character).

You moaned louder, receiving a rough pinch on your nipple. "If you are gonna cum, then cum, empty headed slut," He hissed without sparing you a glance. He abruptly plunged three fingers back inside your your cunt. Your walls immediately clamped around his fingers, making you tremble as his fingers stopped just short of reaching your sweet spot.

Why?

Chica was active now too. "Fuck!" He cursed, slamming his fingers relentlessly into you. Never once hitting your sweet spot. Tears of desperation started to burn in your eyes.

"Camera..outside..the..ah!..door.." You struggled to find the words, you wanted to cum so bad.

Focusing on Foxy had been his mistake. Scaramouche completely missed the warning that would've saved him. And what was worse is that you saw it, and he didn't.

Freddy's music started playing, and then BAM, the lights went out, and Freddy closed in. Scaramouche hissed angrily, tossing his headset onto the desk. "Motherfucking bear!" He snarled, standing up from his chair.

You heard him yanking the button of his jeans undone, his cock harshly pushing inside of you. "How did you see it while my fingers were stuffing your whore cunt full, slut? How?" Scaramouche hissed angrily, groaning as he bottomed out into you.

Now he was hitting your sweet spot with his cock at a pace that was making you drool all over his desk as you moaned. One hand found the side your head, holding it down on his desk as he thrust, smacking a hand on your ass when you cried out.

You mewled in bliss. Scaramouche pinched your clit, rubbing his fingers against it. He groaned when it made your walls clamp tighter around his cock. "Your pathetic whimpers were breaking my concentration," He hissed, gripping your hips tighter.

"Finally, finally! More, Scara, more!" You moaned, feeling dizzy from the intensity of his thrusts.

"What a fucking slut!" His thrusts turned sloppy, his orgasm closing it. Gritting his teeth, he pulled out of you only to slam him cock back inside of you. "So needy..so good for me..fuck.."

His hand stroking through your hair was appreciative after his cum throbbed in ribbons inside of you. He continued mindlessly fucking you through his orgasm.

You were breathless, sobbing weakly from pleasure, cumming hard as your release soaked his cock. Panting, Scaramouche kept his cock sheathed inside of you, leaning around to give you a sloppy, rough kiss. "How about I try again while you cock warm me? Your cunt is a great stress reliever."

He enjoyed the way your cunt quivered and clenched as he lowered you down into his cock.

[mistydeyes]

Hi,if you’re not busy can you write a fic of Cod characters with a cia agent gf ?

yes ofc! yk i love a good little government agent gf moment :)

a double life

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summary: From hidden occupations to a particular set of skill sets, the 141 learns to adapt to having a girlfriend who has all the right qualifications (and who could completely kick their ass).

pairing: Task Force 141 x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of weapons/violence

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

price

"Sorry I can't be there to meet you, Price," Laswell spoke over the web camera feed, "got tied up in South America." Price nodded as he held the bridge of his nose, Laswell had promised her best field agent to act as a point person for their mission in New Zealand. However, just the thought of some middle-aged retired veteran or worse yet, hot-shot rookie, made his headache pound even further. "She's a good one, Price," Laswell reassured, "skilled in practically every major language and the best marks in her physical fitness examination." "Yes Kate, I read her file, but it seems like you failed to include a photo-" He was interrupted by a sturdy knock at the door. "Looks like she's here."

As you cracked the door open, you practically dropped the files that sat in your arms. "What are you doing here?" Price asked jovially and you could feel the breath release from your sternum, "didn't expect an on-base visit like this." As the pieces began to fit together, you realized he didn't know what you were actually there for. "John, Kate sent me here," you whispered as you shut the door gently, "heard you're going to New Zealand." As the realization hit him like an oncoming train, you braced for impact. "You-you work for the CIA?" he asked almost foolishly and you nodded in response. "I did say I worked in Virginia," you corrected, "and you had to know my surprise visit yesterday wasn't just a spur-of-the-moment thing." Price could feel his headache reach a fever pitch as he reviewed your file again. "Then what's with the name?" he asked, "you lie about that too." You let out a laugh as you explained, "People have nicknames and mother's maiden names, John." As you sat back in your chair and crossed your legs, Price wondered what he had done for the universe to gift him you.

soap

Despite your initial reservations, Johnny was quite good at keeping your occupation vague and nonchalant in conversation. You were honest about your work in central intelligence and he took that secret to the grave. Your long-distance relationship was written off as you working in some company in DC and no one batted an eye at your occasional inference at military strategy or surveillance techniques. When you returned home, you would always be sure to show him extra appreciation for his covertness. "Tryna make me patriotic?" he would joke before you would kiss him and stifle his laughs.

However, he loved testing your skill set and seeing if you were as trained of an operative as your file read. "Let's see what they teach you over there, Bonnie," he joked as he lined up his sights at the air gun range. You refrained from kicking him as you stood back to watch him. You almost let out a laugh when you saw his small pellet ricochet just slightly off target. "Hmm and that's why Ghost is your long-range weapons specialist," you teased as he got up and switched positions. You breathed in as you looked down your sights and positioned your rifle towards the farthest target on the range. "You Americans, always so fucking cocky," he muttered under his breath before you quickly shut him up with a quick shot directly into the center of the target. The metal hen spun around widely at your expert marksmanship and you exhaled your held breath. You stood up and tried to size up your tall boyfriend. "Best 2/3?" you offered and you smiled as he kissed your forehead before ushering you out of the way to try again. "Fucking CIA training," he whispered as he got into position again. "You say something, you glorified sergeant?"

gaz

It was 4 am when you arose from the bed and leaned into Kyle, taking in his warmth and seeking refuge from the cold London air. You could always rely on your boyfriend to be your human-sized space heater. As you laid your head across his chest, you could feel him stir lightly. "Time to go already, love?" he asked with his eyes still closed and you muttered in confirmation. You always knew what challenges came with living so far away from the States but you had someone who made it all worth it. He kissed your forehead lightly as you rolled off the bed. You tried to quietly make your way to the bathroom to let him get some more hours of precious sleep but upon your return, it was clear Kyle was more awake than before.

"You sure you don't need me to drive you to the airport?" he offered yet again as you dressed quickly in dress slacks and a blouse. "MI6 is sending a car," you explained as you collected your overnight bag, "just try to get some sleep, my love. I'll text you when I land in Langley." Despite your soft kiss on the cheek, Kyle still pouted as you pulled away. "Don't understand why you can't be a liaison officer for us," he mumbled but you ruffled his hair slightly. "When the position becomes available, I'll be the first application on there," you smiled, doing a final check of your things, "just tell Price to write me a hell of a recommendation letter." With that, you shared another long kiss as you slightly cringed at his morning breath. "I'll be sure to say hi to the cybercrime analysis team for you, hopefully, they'll actually take my advice this time," you laughed before exiting out of your apartment and embracing the cold English air you had grown to love.

ghost

When the question arose of your occupation, you would always smile and defer to being just an "American government worker." However, you always knew Simon had more than just an inkling as to your occupation. When you spoke about military strategy, and combat techniques, or even had various conversations in different languages over the phone, it was clear to him that you were more than just a civilian. The shock didn't even resonate with him when you uttered the words, "Paramilitary Operations Officer," it all seemed to fall into place. He wouldn't bat an eye when it came to long stretches of days that you were in minimal contact with him. "I'll be back," you would reassure as you pulled on a dark hoodie and headed out the door with a bag. Simon would always be there to clean your wounds and ice your bruises.

It was a shock when Simon hadn't heard from you in a month. You had left in the middle of the day in a black Mercedes that disappeared off the English skyline. It was the unfortunate timing that he had been on leave when you left and there had been no word from Price regarding a new mission. Every morning, he would turn over in your king-sized bed expecting to see you smiling back at him. However, the days dragged on without any information meeting his ears. You could practically still picture his terrified face when you turned the key into the door and slammed your bag down. Simon paused upon seeing your blackened eye and wrapped knuckles. The eye bags on your delicate face further added worry to the situation. "Don't ask," you whispered as you fell into his chest, "intel was shit." That was all Simon needed to lift you gently and place you back on the couch. As he held you in his arms with an ice pack to your eye, you slightly pulled away from his touch. "I promised I would come back, didn't I?"

[lovifie]

Hewwo (TwT)

Can you do one with the wheelchaired user and Soap or Price? ~<3

Luv u >_<

Hi love! I hope that you like it!

I am not a wheelchair user so I hope I didn't say anything offensive, if I did please let me know ❤️

Soap

I just know this man would save your contact as "Hot Wheels 🩷"

You first met at the supermarket, he was looking for something on the top shelf and didn't notice you, accidentally pushing you slightly.

You quickly stopped the wheelchair, turning to look at him.

"Shit, sorry, bonnie. I wasn't looking." He said, stepping back so he wasn't hovering over you. "Ye alright?"

He is immediately smitten with you, the annoyed look on your face automatically making the little brat weak

You answer a bit harshly, not that he cared, and you point to what you were trying to grab for the unnecessarily high shelf. "Could you please grab one of those for me?"

He jumps at the opportunity, quickly grabbing it and handing it to you. "I'll grab the moon and the stars for you, bonnie."

You look back at him, silently pondering how much you want the cereal. "This will do, thanks."

He laughs loudly, walking along and apologising again. "Could I maybe... Take you out for a coffee? A meal?"

He is looking at you, head cocking to the side like a puppy, waiting for an answer.

"Are you a creep?" "Oh, definitely."

You still go out, and you end up having the time of your life. And as time goes on he only gets worse.

The "Don't drink and drive" his favourite joke whenever he sees you take a sip of alcohol.

And if you are able to stand? He is shouting "MIRACLE!" or "LIES! TREACHERY!' and it doesn't matter if it is the first time he has seen you standing or the 100th time.

If you ever leave the wheelchair unattended he is definitely stealing it and going Tokyo drifting around the house; only stopping when you shout his name like scolding a dog. "Sorry, bonnie"

Price

With him it would be the opposite, you bump onto him.

It was on the bus, he was a bit grumpy about having to take it since his car broke down, but he got to meet you so he took it as a godly message.

He was standing close to the bus door, you entered and before you could lock the wheels from moving the bus started sending you rolling back against him.

He grab the handles, only to avoid the hit and looked down at you with a smile when you looked at him panicked. "Well, hello to you too."

You started to apologise profusely, turning around a bit to check you haven't hurt him. You softly grazed his hands on your process of checking on him and it sent a funny feeling up his column.

"It's alright." He reassured you, resting his hand on top of yours. "I don't mind a pretty thing like you crushing on me, love."

It made you stutter, tripping over your words as you started to blush profusely. Funny enough it was him the one with a crush on you.

And he just knows he cannot let you slip away from him like that, and when you mention it is your stop he shoots. "How about you let me buy you coffee? For the trouble."

And who are you to turn him down?

That's how he got your name, your number and himself under your skin.

I just know acts of service is this man love language, constantly trying to just be of use. Wheelchair or not.

The postman left a parcel downstairs and you can't get it into the elevator? This man is taking it up on his hands, whether it is a letter or a fucking fridge.

You are almost ready to go but your phone is charging in your room? This man is sprinting down the hall as if running away from an explosion.

You are on a fancy dinner and some people are slow dancing? You looked at them for four whole minutes and you expect him to not do anything?

He's picking you up, your arms around his shoulder and just dancing with you; no matter how much you complain about being heavy or anything, he's dancing with you.

And regarding the two of them; I just know that if some stupid person ever said anything along the lines of: "Aren't you tired of taking care of them?" They would just stare at them like they are idiots, going like: "They take better care of themselves than I do of my own, if anything they are the ones tired of taking care of me."

[lushrue]

im absolutely enamoured with your writing, especially the hockey 141!! but omg, simon saying that ‘he didn’t want to be the reason you didn’t land a jump and injured yourself’ makes me desperate to know what would be their reaction if the reader did actually injure themself either during training or an actual competition?

oh, they would for sure be at various levels of freaking out. all four of them are making their way down to the ice as soon as they can, no matter if it’s a competition or just one of your training sessions.

price would be the most level-headed, i think. after all, his team gets hurt all the time on the ice, usually worse than the twisted ankle and sprained wrist reader ends up with. still, it’s you we’re talking about, so it’s a bit harder for him to keep his composure. he’s going into first aid mode, testing your range of motion and asking where exactly it hurts. probably screaming at somebody to get you an ice pack to keep the swelling down. “can’t move it all the way to the right? alright, dove, just hold it still for me.”

ghost is kinda paralyzed. he’s not really good with injured people, never has been. he’s more of a “brush it off and keep going” kinda guy. but when it’s you, he’s resisting any and all attempts to downplay it. there’s the slightest twinge of pain when you put weight on it? nah, you’re staying seated until he can carry you off the ice. he’s for sure gonna treat you like you’re dying. “everythin’ feel alright, lovie? don’t worry, we’ll get ya some help.”

soap is by far the most panicky out of all of them. he’s on his feet as soon as your ass hits the ice, yelling for you without a care for who’s watching. that’s his bonnie, ye ken? it’s almost funny, the way you’re telling him to calm down when you’re the one who’s injured. he’s torn between palpating the injured area to gauge the severity and treating it like broken glass. finally, you manage to snap him out of it enough to get him to help you off the ice. “can ya walk, bonnie? can ya feel yer legs? oh…it’s not that bad?”

kyle is a nice balance between ghost and price, giving you some tender care while keeping a level head. he’s reassuring you, especially if you’re teary-eyed from shock or pain. he’s the most gentle with you, his touch feather-light over your injury as he takes it in. the first thing he does is get you warm, helping you limp off the ice and get settled on the benches. all the while, he’s cooing comfort in your ear to keep you calm. “i know it hurts, pretty. ‘s alright, kyle’s got ya.”

[klutzyroses]

IkeVamp HCs: Beautiful Reader

How do they react when they meet a reader who is one of the most beautiful women they have ever seen?

Suitors: Napoleon, Arthur, Galileo, Drake

Napoleon

When the woman lost in the halls of the mansion met his gaze, he knew being the woman's protector would be the chore to end all chores.

In this day and age, women already weren't safe. Much less when they looked like they were handcrafted with love and care, the way she did.

He wasn't looking forward to it.

And he himself, though not aloud, found he was curious about the stunning stranger who'd stumbled into his life. He'd seen beautiful women before, but she was on a completely different level.

"I'm going to have my hands full with you, nunuche."

He ruffled her hair with a smirk as she merely blinked at him in confusion.

He would definitely be aware of many eyes on her, admiring, lusting, but they wouldn't get near her when she was with him.

Beautiful as she was, Napoleon knew the risks of letting her be alone for too long...but there were only so many complaints he could have when he was in the company of such a gorgeous madonna. There were worse ways to spend his time.

He's not telling her that directly though. Not in those exact words at least.

Arthur

When he first laid eyes on the maiden fair, he knew life in the mansion would be just a little sweeter.

He had no qualms about saying that to her the first time they met.

"Well now! The stars are shining just a little brighter tonight. Such a bonny lass you are."

His urge to tease her only grew when she reacted with a timid averted gaze, her lovely cheeks painted pink.

He commonly made sure to compliment at least once a day, usually referring to her as the 'Lovely Y/N'.

The author was commonly surrounded by women, but whenever she went anywhere with him, most of them kept their distance, intimidated by the ravishing lady by his side, regardless of the nature of her relationship with Arthur.

"I'm afraid that nobody holds a candle to a heart stopper like you and anybody with eyes knows it."

"Arthur!"

Teasing her just see that cute blush on her beautiful face would be enough to make his day.

Galileo

He wasn't one to generally take much notice of women, though the particular girl ambling through the halls of the university didn't escape his notice.

Galileo knew women could be pleasing to the eye, of course, but that was a fact of life, not something that actually touched him.

But she was objectively the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and he found that slightly disconcerting. Almost as disconcerting as the fact that said woman was not paying attention to her surroundings and was to trip on a loose tile.

He moved quickly, catching her shoulder as she stumbled. When she turned to thank him, her beauty hit him full force from up close as he took her in.

She was a vision of loveliness, an earthly Aphrodite. Her lips parted and her cheeks reddened in embarrassment, only adding sweetness to her visage. She suddenly spoke in a soft tone.

"Erm...thank you sir...that was clumsy of me."

Her voice broke the spell as he let go of her, stepping back. If she had any effect on him, it certainly didn't show.

"Be more careful."

Was his only response before leaving.

He will find himself thinking back to that lovely face from time to time, often when the word 'beautiful' happened to cross his mind.

Drake

When he called to the lone woman passing by the Seine, intending to invite her into his boat, he didn't expect anything out of the ordinary. But when she turned around, his eyes widened as he blinked in surprise.

"Wow. You're beautiful."

Those were the first words out of his mouth, his head tilted in near confusion as the lady blushed at his forwardness.

The man was a sailor that traveled the world and seen different places and people, so he knew a beautiful woman when he saw one. And her? Breathtaking. She could make the hardest of pirates fall at her feet.

When he managed to convince her to take a ride with him, winning her over with his friendly disposition, he playfully told her that getting such a beauty into his boat was risky because alas, he may not return her, much to her amusement.

"Sir, I would appreciate being put on solid ground at some point..."

"Haha, just kidding. You're just so pretty, I want to keep you."

He said with a bright smile, but he was only half joking...

Drake would definitely want to steal her away. Pirates don't just let go of treasure.

🌸

[vixen7243]

Undivided Attention: Captain Price

John Price x AFAB!Reader | TF141 x AFAB!Reader

Masterlist | Gaz |Price | Ghost

MDNI!!!

You had been separated from the team, mostly due to you pushing your captain out of the way of another solider attempting to strike him, while wresting with the man the two of you fell off a ledge, last thing you heard was John yelling your name before slamming into the ground and loosing consciousness for a moment. You all had been looking for reports or a nuclear bomb that was in the midst of being sold to Russian terrorists. Coming to, you quickly moved to look around yourself remembering who you had fallen with, seeing them laying by you, you turned them over and they had fallen on their knife, impaling themselves in the throat. Shaking your head you made to get up flinching, "Fuck." Groaning you hobbled around corners, occasionally having to fight for your life, hearing a group making their way down a hall, more than you knew in that moment you could realistically handle, you made to try and hide in any of the rooms around you, but the doors were locked. Huffing you leaned behind a pillar, tears building at your eyes, even though you knew death was a guarantee with this work, your heart wasn't ready, you never got to tell any of the lads how you truly feel, you didn't get to even say good bye. John.

Oh, you know John will rot with this, his mind will never let him forget this, you wished there was something you could do for him, make your death less of a burden, a weight. He never wanted to let you come here, but you insisted, you had been growing restless at the base, promising to stay glued to their side and out of harms way yet you threw yourself right into the way. Grabbing your hand gun you checked the magazine hitting your head back, out, patting yourself down you groaned grabbing your tactical knife from your hip, waiting till they were closer. Getting a hold of the end of a AK47 you turned out knife about to go straight into the guys throat before you froze, it was, "John?"

"Y/N, oh god." Wrapping you tightly into him you wrapped your arms around his waist, trying not to wince at the force of his embrace. "Come on." Picking you up he turn and they started making their way out back to their Ronda Vue point for Nikolai to pick them up. Grunting with each rapid movement and step up some stairs, you looked up to Johnny, he looked so damn sad and worried, made you ache, wanting to comfort him, comfort all of them. Getting to the top of the building, John handed you to Simon before you were set into a seat and strapped in, "Let's go, now!"

---

You were taken to med bay by Simon, Johnny and Kyle, they stuck by your side the whole time as you were stitched up, wrapped up and given tests. Your arm was put into a sling after noticing that you had indeed broken your right clavicle you were brought into a back room to have a plate screwed to the outside of the bone. You were knocked out when the lads say you next, had been for a few hours, they never left you, John was still away, where none of them was sure, most likely holed up in his office burying himself in work and papers.

When you did come to, you reassured the guys, apologizing and hugging each of them, the door closed and locked, blinds drawn close as Simon carefully held you, kissing your head. "Where's Cap?"

"Probably in his office." Kyle said, his hands on your back and hips. Moving to get out of the bed he tightened his grip slightly stopping you. "Where r'you goin?"

"Check on him, I'm fine, truly, guys, let me go." Pushing their hands from you, you gasped as you tried to wrap your button up around your shoulders. "Shit."

"Here bon." Johnny helped you set the shirt around you, "You sure you don't want to rest a bit more bonnie?"

"I'll be fine Johnny, thank you. You guys know I've been through worse." You chuckled as you unlocked and left the room, all of them close to you, glued like guard dogs, everyone making a clear path for you. Nearing John's office you ushered them away, knocking on the door and not hearing anything you stepped in and looked around confused when you didn't see him inside. Now making your way to his room you knocked as you slowly opened the door and looked in, hearing the shower from his bathroom.

Closing the door and locking it behind you, you went to the bathroom and stood in the door frame frowning, "Captain."

His head spun around so fast you were sure you heard a crack, "What are you doing?"

"Came to check on you." Walking in some more you looked into his eyes, he looked so pained staring into you, before they went down and took in your arm and collarbone. Shrugging the shirt off slowly, you used you good arm to undo the sling taking it off.

"What are yo-"

"Help me with my shirt will you?" Stepping right into the shower with him, the water splashing off his shoulders and head hitting you, his scowl deepened, as he opened his mouth to speak you rested your hand on his cheek, "John, help me?" His hands were more gentle than ever as they guided your clothes off of you, kneeling down undoing your boots and tossing each soaked piece of clothing out of the shower.

"You should be resting." Standing back up he retracted his hands moving to make room for you under the water.

"I will, after this." Stepping back into his space, you pushed your hand into his stomach before gliding your fingers through his chest hair and then gripping his shoulder pulling him to you. "Y/N."

"Don't pull from me John, I'm fine, everything's okay. I'm sorry, truly, it's my fault, I nev-"

"Stop." Closing his eyes he tilted his head back, "You've nothing to apologize for darling, this is my fault."

"It's not your f-"

"I said you wouldn't be out on the field, I caved, you got hurt protecting me when I promised I would protect you. This should've never happened, not for me or because of me." His eyes were so broken, voice almost cracking in the end, guiding him back to you, you leaned up onto your tips gently kissing him.

"You've up held to your promise John, there's nothing you could've ever done to prevent me from protecting you. As much as you don't want anything happening to me, I don't want anything to happen to you, to any of you. As I belong to you all, ALL of you belong to me too." You used your good arm to wrap up and around his shoulders, your right arm carefully going to his waist and massaging his lower back, whatever you could comfortably reach you did.

"Darling." Leaning the both of you under the water, he kissed you, enveloping you into his arms. Reaching his hands down to behind your thighs you grabbed his bicep and jumped, wrapping your legs around his hips he leaned back, his back hitting the wall, locking his lips with yours, tongues slowly easing into the others mouth. Each moment the two of you would pull back for a gasp of breath your would continue to reassure him, claiming him, the team, telling him continuously that you belong to them, calming his nerves, kissing the anger fueled tears from his cheeks. He wasn't mad at you, couldn't ever be, he was angry at himself, your words soothing his soul.

Feeling the water start to cool against both of your skin, John slid your hips up along him a little more groaning as your slit dragged along his shaft, holding you to him he turned the water off and stepped out, grabbing a towel setting you on the counter drying you. Before he tossed the towel, you grabbed it from him and returned the favor also patting him dry smiling when he kissed along your neck, jaw, shoulders and laying gentle kisses to your collarbone. Shuddering at the soft touch you let the towel slide from your fingers as you drift your fingers into his hair lightly clenching and redirecting his lips back to yours, picking you back up he carried you to his bed, ever so carefully laying you on your back in the middle, bringing the other spare pillow he had under your hips.

As gentle as he was being you could feel the tremble in his body, unsure of if it's just being a build up of passion or something else you tried to move your hips with his, arching your back into him as your clit rubbed against the tip of his dick. "Don't move, I'll take care of you." Pouting as you watched him kiss a trail down your stomach and hip you moved your legs for him, moving your hips up the hip as his hand gently slapped your pussy making you gasp, surprised. "Darling, don't move."

"But..." Looking to the side before looking back to him, "You want more, right? I'm fine, you can take me how you need Captain."

Huffing he pushed back up, "Y/n, you're hurt."

"But I'm FINE, take me, if it gets to be too much, I'll say my safe word. ... Take me Captain." You were pushing him again, just like you had when you begged to go on the mission, his body itching as he grabbed the back side of your left knee he pushed it up to your chest slapping your cunt a little harder this time.

"You are damn stubborn sweat heart, I tell you no again and yet you keep pushing. You never want to listen, I'm trying to look out for you, why won't you let me do this for you." Slapping your cunt again a little harder again, you gasped jolting, "Begging me to just fucking take you, you'll say your safe word? What if you can't?" You clenched around nothing just before he moved your leg to the side a little more exposing your clit and slapped down making you moan, "I'll take you darling, I'll fucking take you but damnit Y/N. Why must you push me?" Pouting you looked down, watching as he lined himself up and started easing into you. "Fuck." Grunting the both of you jerked into the other panting as he slowly moved in and out of you, your slick collecting around the base of his cock.

"John." Huffing your hips started moving, meeting his, the sound of skin slapping ringing in your ears making your head spin from how much he was stretching you. Feeling his fingers dig into your hips he pushed your hips down into the pillow growling.

"No moving damnit, urgh, gonna make me lose it darling. You want to cum?"

"Yes, please, Captain, please sir." Feeling his dick twitch against your gummy walls you moaned, "Captain."

John swirled his fingers around your clit, lightly pinching it, a small twist before pushing his thumb into you drawing circles. Arching up from the bed you whined cumming, walls spasming around him, he didn't relent as he continued to riding out your orgasm. Huffing he drew your legs up to his chest, pushing down to you, he gripped your neck, squeezing the sides, "Again darling, come on." Slamming his hips down your cunt started squelching, taking each thrust you rolled your eyes back trying to arch into him and move your hips but with his weight over you, you couldn't move. Feeling him squeeze your throat a little tighter you gasped grabbing his forearm moaning, "Darling." Loosening his hold your grabbed the side of his face and pulled him down kissing him.

Breathing heavily the both of you pulled back and came, John grasping the pillow under your head pushing his forehead into yours grunting after he picked his rhythm back up, overstimulating the both of you, "Oh, John, wait..." As you whined, he pulled out, sliding you onto your left side, laying behind you, raising your leg and slinging it back and over his thigh. Taking labored breathes you moved your hips back into him moaning when he helped guide you this time rather than try and stop you, "Oh John, yes, good." Feeling his hips picked up, your body getting jostled, the sheets getting kicked and pushed to the floor, the pillow that had been under your hip also being pushed to the ground.

John slid his arm under and around you neck, putting you into a choke hold from behind, your third orgasm flooding over you, your body shaking as he didn't stop. Gasping you grabbing the bed sheet and trying to push his forearm only making him grunt, "No, you're going to stay right here, fuck. Right here, where I can see you, hold you." Scowling you tried to hold out but when your fourth orgasm was slowly building up already you felt tears prick at your eyes, your cunt felt too raw, already clenching so tightly around him, his girth stinging slightly more than the pleasure that was building. Huffing you tried pushing again against his arm, before shaking violently against his front whining patting his arm.

"Red, John, red please." Gasping you gathered your breath as he froze, his hips pushed flesh against you. Feeling him slowly pull out of you, you whined when he pulled away, collecting the blanket from the ground and the other pillow, he got back in behind you gently massaging your hips.

"I'm sorry darling."

"You did nothing wrong John, Just over stimulated a bit quick today is all." You interlocked your fingers with his smiling as he wrapped his arms around you gently.

"You're too good for me, Y/N."

"No, you are ... me." Your eyelids growing heavy, you yawned and snuggled back a little more into him before falling into sleep.

"No, you truly are, for any of us, you deserve better."

Ghost

[skele-ghost]

Baby, it’s Hot Outside: Part 3

Ruh-roh Raggy

MDNI, 18+, Warnings: Omegaverse, near-death experience (NDE), hospitals, hugs lol

Masterlist

“Ghost!”

The desperation in Johnny’s voice has Ghost scrambling out of their cabin, gun unholstered and ready for anything. He steps out onto their rickety porch and sees Soap standing on Seraph’s porch, frantically waving him over.

“Ghost, hurry!” He shouts, and Simon doesn’t hesitate. He crosses the clearing quickly and nearly slams open the door to the cabin.

The smell that hits him almost causes him to stumble back. It’s sour, almost rotten, and everything inside him screams that something is terribly wrong.

It’s Seraph. She’s limp in Soap’s arms, completely unconscious, and for a moment Ghost thinks she’s dead. Her chest rises and falls in short, shallow breaths.

“She’s hardly breathing,” Soap says, tears brimming in his eyes. “Just—just hold her, I don’t know if your scent will do anything but—“

Ghost strides over and falls to his knees, quickly taking her limp form from him and cradling her into his lap, tucking her head against his neck. He checks her pulse and it’s weak, too weak.

“Gaz is calling for a medevac,” Soap says, rising to his feet, “I’ll go get the captain and König—just please…”

“Go, Johnny,” Ghost commands, “I’ve got her.”

Soap runs off, leaving Ghost with a nearly-dead omega in his arms. He pulls off his baklava, exposing his scent gland and keeping it as close to her nose as he can.

His chest tightens, her sour scent making his stomach toss. If he’d known she was this bad—

But he did know she was bad. Soap had returned to him day after day smelling of her, worse each time.

It was only a few hours ago that he had gathered everyone together and told them that they would need to call a medevac tomorrow if she didn’t get any better.

How had she deteriorated so fast? Three days was all it took for their happy little hacker to turn into this husk?

Ghost growls, holding her tighter against him. “No,” he says to her, “we’re not going to lose you, (Y/N).”

—

It’s like waking up from a nightmare. You feel content, and comfortable, and as recent memories flit back to you, they almost seem like conjurations of a fever dream.

But you open your eyes and you’re in a private hospital room, an IV hooked up to your wrist. You’re tucked neatly into the hospital bed, in a hospital gown.

A snore catches your attention. Soap MacTavish is asleep on a tiny couch next to your bed, in casual clothes with a blanket draped across him. The position he’s in looks so incredibly uncomfortable that you decide it’s best to wake him.

“Soap?” You’re a little taken aback at how soft your voice is. How could you have lost your voice? You have to call his name a few more times before he wakes up.

“Oh, thank god,” he sighs, any semblance of sleep lost as he stands up and engulfs you in a hug. You swear you can see the sparkle of a tear in his eye as he pulls away, but you don’t get a good look before he turns and pulls up a chair.

“Uh, hey,” you manage, surprised at his actions.

He sighs deeply, leaning forwards in his chair, squeezing your hand briefly. “We thought we’d lost ya.”

“Sorry,” you say automatically, before you shake your head. “What happened? Where are we?”

“Mexico City. We had to have you medevac’d…it got pretty bad, hen,” he says, sounding sad.

“I really did go into a heat, then?”

“Yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “The doctor said it’s rare, to present so late, but it’s not impossible. So…welcome to the omega club, I guess.”

You chuckle, “thanks, MacTavish. What about the others, are they okay?”

“The others are fine, bonnie,” Soap says, shaking his head with a smirk. “You’re the one who went hyperthermic and nearly had your brain fried.”

“Shit,” you grimace. “That bad, huh?”

There’s a quiet knock on the door before it opens, revealing a woman in a lab coat. She smiles warmly at the sight of you both.

“I thought it heard conversation. How are you feeling, Miss (Y/N)?”

“Um, fine, thank you,” you say.

Soap rises from his seat, giving your hand another squeeze. “I’ll let you talk to the doctor, love. Team’ll want to know how you’re doing.”

With that, he leaves you at the mercy of the doctor. Not that she’s a bad doctor; she’s very sweet.

She gently explains to you how, in very rare cases, omegas can present later in life. Heats in those cases, however, can be quite severe if not taken care of. That’s what happened to you.

Unfortunately, those ‘late bloomers’ also have trickier heats, sometimes lasting longer or becoming more intense.

As for your heritage…you aren’t adopted. Your genes just decided to mutate and make you an omega instead of a beta.

And that leaves you, an unclaimed omega at 26, with absolutely no clue as to how to proceed. You call your parents and then Laswell, and by the time you’re discharged you’ve decided.

You’re pulling up Soap’s number in your phone, walking down to the main lobby when you literally run into him.

He squeezes you into a hug again, and your eyes widen at the sight of your entire fucking team behind him.

“You look right as rain, angel,” Soap says, patting your shoulders.

“You guys didn’t have to…all show up,” you say quietly. Your mind races with questions—had they stayed here? Gotten hotels? You’d been out for two days, they better have gotten a hotel—

“We’re so glad you’re alright, Seraph,” the captain steps forwards, giving you a gentle, warm hug. He’s the one that smells like cigars, duh.

“Oh, thanks,” you say, still bewildered at all this attention.

You catch König’s eye next, and the expression of concern and worry on his face almost makes you melt. He bends down to hug you, too (are you a flashing ‘hug me’ sign?), squeezing you a little too tight. His scent is new—like conifers and a crisp, autumn morning.

“Are you alright, meine liebe?” He asks, looking you over at arm’s length like you might be sporting some secret injuries.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Kö,” you promise him, smiling at his gentleness and concern.

Gaz doesn’t miss out on the chance for a hug, either. “You really had us worried there, mate,” he whispers to you.

You look to Ghost, but not expectantly. He’s not huge on physical affection, you know.

“Don’t do that again,” he says, and you can tell that he’s being playful and not serious.

You smile and nod, “not planning on it.”

They really do look happy to see you again, which is why breaking the news to them makes you more nervous than usual.

“Uh, listen, guys,” you say, readjusting the straps of the backpack on your shoulders. “I talked to Laswell and I’m going to take a couple weeks off. I just—the doctor said I should take it easy, and my parents want to see me, since I almost died…” you trail off.

“(Y/N),” Price says, and you look up at him, “we completely understand. If you need some time to yourself, then by all means, take it.”

The generosity and kindness in his voice makes you feel guilty, but you nod and thank him. And on your flight back home, while you should be thinking about yourself, you can’t help but think about the team you’re leaving behind.

Because how are you supposed to tell them that you’re not planning on coming back?

—

You didn’t realize how homesick you were until you got home. Go figure. And even though you’re a grown adult, it’s nice to be doted on by your parents again.

But it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. They were worried about you, and they had been worried about you before you were an omega.

You’re still undecided. That’s what you told Laswell—that you’d think about it. Your parents want you to take a desk job at the Pentagon, the one you’d had before you joined the team. Remote, no field work.

The fact that three of your teammates were alphas had always concerned them. Now that you’re an omega, they think you shouldn’t be anywhere near alphas.

You explain it to them over and over—the team is already a pack, they have an omega, and they sure as hell aren’t interested in you. It still stung a little in your heart to say it, and after the hospital, a part of you wondered if it was still true.

But the part of yourself that knows better, the part of yourself that keeps you from disappointing yourself—it won’t let you even dream of it.

You didn’t really care to understand what the doctors said—you still don’t really know what it means to be an unclaimed omega. Claiming, scenting; she threw all those terms at you and expected you to know what she was talking about.

Well, you didn’t, and you still don’t. You just want to be normal again. You want to return to your old, comfortable life like nothing had ever happened.

But you don’t know if you should, and you didn’t even know if you’d be able.

Someone else has to decide for you.

You’re at a local bar with your parents, enjoying some live music. Your cousins all have a band together and it’s good enough that you wish the music they make was on Spotify.

Your phone buzzes a few times in your pocket before you notice it over the feel of the music running through you.

Unknown Caller.

You answer it immediately, rushing outside so you can actually hear her.

“(Y/N), are you there?” Laswell asks calmly, and you nod before you remember that you’re on a phone.

“Yeah, I’m here—sorry, live music,” you stutter.

“Well, I’m sorry to pull you away from leave; I know you asked not to be contacted, but I need you.”

“Ma’am?”

“I have a problem, and I think you’re the only one who knows how to fix it. Have you decided yet?”

That dreaded question. You’d snapped at your mother the other day for asking it and felt so bad afterwards. Three weeks was long enough to decide, wasn’t it?

Because if you’re being honest with yourself, you knew the answer from day one. You knew the answer when you felt that pit in your gut as your plane taxied out of Mexico City. You knew the answer when you layed awake at night, staring at the ceiling and wondering what your team was doing, and if they were okay, if they were hurt.

You knew the answer. It wasn’t the safe option, or the convenient one—and you were at least 60% sure it was probably going to be a challenge.

But you knew.

“When and where?”

-

A/N: ngl Ghost’s ‘not gonna lose you’ line is so cheesy but I kind of like it that way. Next part will take longer to come out, I’m still working on it. Stay cringe, folks.

[multific]

Minor Sex Accidents with Modern Warfare Men - Preferences

Modern Warfare Characters x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mention of a small injury, smut

John Price 

He was just too happy to have you in his arms again. He wouldn't say he lost control, he was fully in control. It was just a lapse of judgement. 

He had you on the edge of the bed, while he pounded into you, he was meant to turn you around but he wasn't fully aware of his strength and as he moved to turn you, his grip on your wrist. 

You yelping out in pain was what made him come back from his high as you grabbed your wrist, tears forming in your eyes.

Oh, how he regretted it.

He would immediately apologize but it wouldn't be the last. He would keep on apologizing for the rest of the month.

The mood ruined, he quickly moved away from you asking you how he can help or what he can do.

He wouldn't believe you if you told him a thousand times that you were fine. All he could think about is how this could have ended so much worse. 

From that day on, John would prefer slow love-making. It will take him a while to get back to rough and fully dominant.

Simon Riley

Simon always had a plan. No matter if it was taking down a terrorist group or ruining your holes.

He always had a plan.

However, plans sometimes didn't turn out the way you want them to.

He liked to have your ass on display for him, meaning this man loved to have your back arched, ass in the air while he pushed your head down into the pillows or mattress. 

He never once lost control of his movements or goal. 

Simon knew what he wanted.

But again, sometimes, plans didn't go as... planned.

So, when he would move from holding your back down onto the soft cushion, a rather sharp and rough movement of his made you move forward just enough to hit your head on the headboard.

The loud noise immediately made him stop his movements as he looked up at you as you held your head and let out a soft hiss.

"Fuckin' hell! Doll, I'm so sorry!" he would pull away from you and let you move he watched as you rubbed your head but soon, you were giggling and laughing.

"Babe, it's alright." you said and while you could still see the worry in his eyes, you could only imagine what would have happened if he used his full force. Would have he been able to break your neck? That would be a way to go... fucked to death.

You knew he was always very cautious and this was simply an accident.

It did take you a little convincing but soon you told him to lay down so you can ride him.

Johnny MacTavish

Johhny is the kind of man who would do it anywhere, anytime.

He had no issues with any position or surface, if he wanted to be inside you, he sure as hell will be.

At first, the dangerously wobbly table seemed like a good idea. It helped him move, even gave him some pushback as he continued his assault on your already very used pussy.

But when he decided to lean over you so he could suck on your gorgeous nipples, the table gave way.

Making you fall and him, right onto you, both of you let out a groan at the impact. 

"Bonnie! Are you good?" he asked with a worried expression. Having his full weight fall on you wasn't really nice. 

Took you a moment to realize that you managed to fall on your elbow and now it was hurting rather badly. Johnny soon noticed the pain on your face and you reaching for your elbow.

"Shit, sorry." he said as he was quick to get up. "Let's get you to the doctor!" he said as he grabbed his clothes.

Now, let's say, it wasn't the easiest to explain to your doctor what happened.

And you did receive a warning about being more cautious. 

Both of you were rather embarrassed, but you did get ice cream on your way home.

And a new table. 

Kyle Garrick

Kyle liked to try out new things, toys, positions or places.

It didn't matter as long as both of you were comfortable with it.

He could be a gentle lover or be rough and pound you.

This time, you two decided to do it in his car.

Sounds fun right?

Wrong.

The entire thing was a struggle.

They make it look so easy in movies. 

And it looked finally good, you two find a great rhythm with you on top, but when Kyle moved you a little too quickly, your hand came in contact with the window, going right through it. 

It was a reflex, you thought he would drop you and you tried to grab something.

Both of you stopped immediately at the sight and the noise the glass made. 

You pulled your hand back and you both looked at it. 

Both of you blinked once, twice, and then realization hit.

Soon, the blood dripping onto the leather made you both move, grabbing your clothes.

A hospital visit and two stitches later, you looked at Kyle.

"Well, I think we can both agree, it was not worth it."

"Definitely not. I'll make it up to you at home."

"Good. Just no more glass."

"No more glass." he nodded as he opened the car door for you.

Alejandro Vargas

Alejandro is an amazin lover. A true giver. He often jokes about how he would die between your thighs. He is ready to face death by suffocation.

Man loved to eat you out. Especially when you were on top.

You swear you probably sat on his face more than you did on a chair.

Alejandro loved to grab your thighs, squeeze whatever part of you he can reach.

He loves to eat you out and then pound you mercilessly. And don't forget every possible Spanish curse word or praise falling from his tongue. 

He would lay down on the bed, let you get on top, and steadying yourself with the headboard.

But one time, as you were at it, he grabbed your thigh and as he moved you just a little, you lost your balance, you tried to recover by grabbing the headboard but it was too late, you fell to the ground with a thud and a groan.

"Fuck! Mi Amor!" he was quickly by your side. "Are you okay?"

You nodded but as you tried to get up, you immediately fell back. 

"I think I twisted my ankle."

He was so apologetic. He wouldn't shut up as he ran to the fridge to grab some ice and a pillow to put under your leg.

It hurt like hell and his apologies didn't exactly help you calm down.

A bit later, when he joined you back in bed, pulling you close, he kissed your forehead one more time and with the last apology, he let you sleep.

Needless to say after this little incident he preferred to have you under him. However, a twisted ankle didn't stop the man to give you many more orgasms the next morning as his apology.  

König

Given his size and strength, he was always careful.

But as time went on and he got more confidence, he could finally lose himself in the feeling of your warmth wrapped around him.

His confidence got him experimenting as he followed you to the shower for the first time. 

Pounding you from behind as he pushed you up against the wall, completely devouring your smaller figure.

But let's just say, grabbing your leg so he could have better access wasn't his best idea.

You lost your balance and your head hit the tile on the wall probably way too much.

The loud noise made him stop immediately as he watched you.

"Liebling?"

You were dizzy and your head was hurting now. You could already feel a bump forming.

"Liebling?" his voice definitely didn't match his huge form as he sounded so worried.

When you explained to him what happened, he quickly turned the shower off, dried and dressed you and guided you to the couch.

He gave you an ice pack and some pills.

"I'm so sorry, Liebling! I was just-"

"It's okay. I'll be fine." 

Good luck trying to convince him after this incident that everything was okay and he doesn't have to hold back that much.

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~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[aftoonfamily]

I never do this, but I drew a little something for a little something I something I wrote. lol.

Enjoy below it might be long.

Mike had a Nickit he named Nickie. Nickie with a C and an E because he thought she was a boy at first. Nickie never cared, she thought it was a cute nickname anyway.

Nickie was very small and followed her Mike everywhere. She left soot, dirt, and dust all over the floor from her messy paws, but she always tried to sweep it up with her tail so Mike’s father wouldn’t get upset. Her trainer always got yelled at when she would make a mess. She tries to clean up any messes he makes as well. Sometimes Mike would cause a mess himself and his father would try to take care of it, making him clean it up with biting insults and possibly a hit or two.

She never liked it when that man would hit her young Mike, but he would always tell her to leave it alone.

Sometimes the man would hit her trainer hard enough to cause bruises, or sometimes bleeding. Nickie would bring him berries and try to get him to eat them. Bleeding was never good and bruises could hurt for quite a long time.

He would push her and her berries away, telling her off, yelling at her. Once he kicked her away and she yelped, but the boy was crying. He had cried for so long with blood still gushing from his nose and using tissue after tissue, staining them a horrible red.

She didn’t worry about the kick. It wasn’t that hard and he was still crying. When Nickie had pressed up behind him, nuzzling her way into his lap, he did not push her away again. Her little Mike had hugged her to his chest and sobbed into the soft fur in between her ears.

The man was mean. A real bad man.

He needed his boy to be strong. He made Mike fight. His Pokémon were very strong. Nickie had been forced to battle each one until she could barely stand on many occasions.

The first time she had battled was with the man’s Lopunny. His name was Bonnie and he had harsh scars, tearing through his skin like ragged grooves in matted brown fur. He had stared at Nickie like she was prey, beady pink eyes shining with pain and malice. Bonnie had slashed right across her eye and knocked her out before she could even get a turn in. She had woken up blind in that eye, everything foggy and white.

Her misguided Mike hadn’t helped her. He tried to keep his head down and voice harsh as he scolded her, but he was only ten and it wobbled as he told her she was weak and this was her punishment for being so weak. When she chirped at him and tilted her head to get a better look at him, he broke into tears and picked her up, holding her close as a silent apology.

Nickie had gotten stronger slowly. She hasn’t gotten any more scars as harsh and debilitating as her blind eye, but there were a few. She had scratches on her chest, too close to her stomach, bites on her scruff, and a few nicks in her ears, but those never hurt for long.

Mike had changed slowly as well. He had grown to stand up for himself more, ignoring his father’s cruel ways towards his Pokémon and healing Nickie in secret after battles. Every time they battled wild Pokémon or battled with friends, Mike would take her straight to a PokéCenter so that she could get some rest and heal up quickly.

Battles with the man were harder to heal from. Mike would have to take her back up to his room— too injured to walk herself because she never won a battle with him— and have to heal her with potions he would buy with any extra cash he had. When there weren’t potions available, he would let her rest, feeding her berries and cleaning up any blood or dirt in her fur.

She did the same with him. Her strong Mike had been getting hurt more now that he’s starting to stand up for himself. And worse.

Nickie had woken one night, resting from a hard fight, to yelling below her. She had pushed herself up on aching legs and snuck her way out of Mike’s room.

Her trainer had two young siblings. They were smaller than him, but still bigger than her. Nickie liked them well. She remembers when the little boy was so small. He used to pull at her ears curiously and she would sniff at him, purring.

Now, the little boy was watching something from the banister, pressed against it, hugging his own Pokémon close.

Nickie padded her way to the little boy and nudged him away from the stairs. He jumped, but once he saw her, he reached out to pet her small head, hands shaking. She nudged him again, gently herding him back to his room. Mike liked his siblings and took care of them, even if they got into fights a lot. He was too young to be caring for little ones.

After the little boy was safe in his room, Nickie tilted her head and pushed it through the bars of the banister, her ears popping out as she got her head through. Looking below, she saw the commotion that had woken her.

The man was yelling at her trainer. He had him pressed against a wall, hand gripping his throat tightly. Choking Mike.

Mike’s hands were gripping his father’s arms, but unable to pull him off. His eyes were bulging, bloodshot and teary. His mouth was open and gasping. He couldn’t breathe.

Nickie pulled her head out of the banister and ran down the steps, bounding her way to her hurt Mike.

She snarled at the man, snapping her teeth at his legs. He had turned cold blue eyes to her and kicked out, delivering a hard, steel-toed shoe to her healing torso. Nickie had yelped, skidding across the floor, but she had scrambled back to them in seconds. Slashing and biting at anything she could get into while the man continued to try and kick her off, cussing her out angrily.

But it worked. He had let go of Mike’s throat in order to grab her by her large ears and throw her across the room.

She remembers something shattering, but nothing else.

When Nickie had woken up, she was in the PokéCenter. Her sweet Mike had been petting her head, careful of the stitches all over her small body. Everything hurt so much, but there was a soft shuffling of her tail at the sight of her trainer. He had a thick sweater on that covered the bruises that were sure to be on his neck. She wished she could dig her nose under his collar to check for any other injuries.

The nurse suggested Nickie was not to be released from her Pokéball and should definitely not be fighting for some time while she healed from her injuries. Mike had followed every suggestion thoroughly. If Nickie ever came out of her ball, it was only to stay in Mike’s room and only to sleep and eat.

She spent quite a long time like this. She had to watch from afar as her hurting Mike was falling into line with his father’s footsteps, trying to get some love from the man by making him as happy as he could. Making him happy often included making his little siblings’ lives worse.

Nickie saw as teasing became screaming until there was nothing and how worrying became crying until there was pain.

Lots of pain.

Nickie hadn’t been there when it all happened, but she saw the signs. Mike never showed interest in catching any Pokémon. He liked his solitude and he already had to take care of his family as well as Nickie. Too many Pokémon running around would cause too much stress.

That was one of the reasons why she had started to worry for her oblivious Mike when a Litwick started to follow behind him.

When she snapped her teeth at the candle creature and snarled, Mike had pushed her back with his foot and scolded her.

“No, Nickie,” he had said, scratching behind her shredded ears. “No fighting. It’s just some stupid Pokémon.”

Nickie had snapped her teeth again when the Litwick’s flame flickered. Shining brighter.

Mike had never been interested in studying Pokémon like his father. He was content with the one he had and didn’t further his knowledge into any others. He didn’t know what a bad omen it was for a Litwick to follow you.

Nickie was healing, so she started following her clueless Mike around again, just so she could drive away that cursed candle. He would always tell her off, telling her to stop being so aggressive. He was adamant on retiring Nickie from any more battles, deciding her safety was better than strength and evolution. She didn’t care about battling, she only cared about what exactly that Litwick wanted to say.

She learned soon enough when Mike’s little sister went missing. Right when she got her first Pokémon.

Her trainer had searched desperately, all over the house and all over town. He had yelled at his little brother to stay in his room, and when he fought him on that, Mike had pushed him in and locked the door. Nickie had felt conflicted on if she should comfort the little boy or her little boy, but there was no stopping Mike from fretting and getting more frustrated with every second he didn’t find the girl.

So Nickie snuck into the little boy’s room and kept him company while her scared Mike searched for a child he wouldn’t find alive.

She saw the glow of the Litwick’s flame when the little girl disappeared. It was a bright, blinding blue. Mike might now know what that meant, but Nickie did.

Nickie tried all she could to keep Mike calm after that. She pressed against him every moment she could, brought him food when he wouldn’t eat, and protected him from the rotten Litwick that continued to pester him. Mike had appreciated her comfort, but the longer his sister wasn’t found, the more he closed himself off.

Their father hadn’t been a great source of comfort. Nickie avoided him for the most part and he was never really around, but she could see the toll it held on him that his daughter was missing. The man was always violent and cruel to his family, but he now neglected them completely. Nickie felt overwhelmed trying to take care of Mike during his bouts of aggressive depression, but now she felt the need to watch over the little boy to make sure he was okay too.

The abuse never stopped. The pain turned to anger, and anger turned to violence. Nickie loved her trainer, but she couldn’t help but see the resemblance between him and his father. Her lost Mike was so cruel to the only sibling he had left.

Months went by. Nickie had started to avoid her trainer. She would give him berries when he wouldn't eat and sit with him when he was hurt, but she was disappointed in his behavior.

His little brother had gotten bruises on his arms from Mike’s harsh treatment towards him. He cried when Mike would scare him over and over again until he got to a point where the little boy hid from his brother. And Mike took pleasure in hurting his brother. He would smile and laugh, and Nickie didn’t like it.

Her sweet, misguided, poor Mike, was not an abusive person. She wanted to believe he was still hurting. She saw his pain late into the night when he would lie bedridden, sometimes whole days going by without leaving his bed. He was still hurting, but Nickie couldn’t act like the pain he put his brother through was okay.

She didn’t notice the bright blue glow following Mike around until it was too late.

The little boy was dead, killed by ignorance. Mike had taunted the boy, pushing him towards the Bewear’s awaiting arms. Nickie had frozen. She had called to Mike, crying for him to stop, drowned out from the boy’s own cries.

Bones cracked, arms bending in wrong angles, and screams suffocated under the crushing weight squeezing his chest into a bloody pulp.

Mike had screamed too. He heard the first crack and screamed for the Pokémon to let him go. He had pulled and pried at the Bewear’s arms, but they didn’t move an inch. It continued to crush the little boy until he stopped crying, until there was no movement at all.

Then the little boy was dropped into a broken, mangled heap on the ground. Mike had screamed.

Nickie had failed her dear Mike. She had tried to protect him all her life, but she had turned her back on him at such a terrible time. She should have been there for him. When he was young, she stayed a steady presence in his life, pulling him away from the footsteps he had been following, only to abandon him when he went back on his progress.

She wasn’t going to abandon him again. Even now, sitting with his years later with the building burning around them. He tried to push her away, just like he did when he was ten and had a blood nose from taking a hard punch, just like every time she had gotten hurt and he tried to tell her that she was weak. Just like when Lizzie went missing and like when Evan was killed and when his father had left him alone and when time and time again something happened and he got hurt. Nickie wasn’t going to abandon him.

She nuzzled her thin nose under his chin, breathing heavily as the smoke filled her lungs and burned the tips of her fur. Her Mike, her kit, had his arms wrapped around her shoulders, hugging her close. He told her how much he loved her and she chirped to him under the roaring flames.

Nickie was a Thievul and she had a kit named Mike. She laid her head on his lap and stayed with him till the end.

[mrsparrasblog]

I can treat you better than he can

Summary: You were hopeless in love with your Captain who pushed you away denying his own feelings for you, maybe this time he pushed you in the wrong hands.

Pairing: Keegan x Reader ( Callsign Sunshine)

Words: 2500 I think

A/N: This is a small chapter of my fic Nightmares become true solider(my first fic and the love of my life but its to long for Tumblr so I post stand alone chapters) The fic is written in an I perspective

TW: canon typical violence and swearing, sex, oral sex, fingering, spanking, cumplay, reader is a pervert, Keegan too, Price is an idiot, Reader is unhinged

Defeated, I walked over to the boys, leaving John alone by the bar. Well, he sure will join us later; why shouldn't he? "John doesn't want to join."

"Better for us, old man is always winning," Ghost said. Even in the bar, he wore a mask—not his hardshell mask he wore on missions, but a skull-faced balaclava—making him look like he was about to rob the place.

Confidently, I tried to challenge Ghost, saying that I could surely win a second time. "Maybe Kyle and I will win against you and Soap."

"Not possible."

We played some rounds of pool in which every single round Ghost and Soap won, surprising not only because of Ghost's skills. Soap was the best pool player I had ever seen; he was super focused, and every shot was a hit. After a while of sore losses, we decided to sit down in a booth. The bar was crowded with lots of soldiers and girls who wanted to find themselves a military guy. To be honest, I couldn't judge them. Military men were toxic but so damn attractive.

Even through the crowded space, we could see the Ghost Team sitting in a booth, still with their masks on, and drinking. They didn't seem disappointed in their loss. I saw a lot of similarities between them and us; anyone could easily see that they were more than just a unit—a family like us. Well, maybe like the four boys and me as a distant cousin taking up all the space at a family gathering.

"You sure don't want to drink, lass? Celebrate our win; we are officially the best team on base again."

"I don't want to drink today; we have training tomorrow, and I don't want to throw up on the mat."

"You sound like a mom," Kyle complained, and Ghost almost gagged when he heard this.

"Aye, look, Captain is flirting with a bonnie." As I heard this, I turned around, capturing the scene in front of me. John was sitting at the bar with a woman—worse, a pretty woman who looked like the complete opposite of me—and not just in a different hair type way—in a different figure, appearance, style, hair color, height way—everything about her was different. She looked so stunning; the boys, well, more like Kyle, repeated over and over again how gorgeous that woman was and how the captain normally doesn't pick up girls at the bar—but probably made an exception for her because that woman was stunning. 

If I hadn't been so jealous, I probably would have had a panic attack right now. I observed the pair—how she touched his chest, giggling and whispering into his ears—and he looked happier than just happy, delighted, lucky, elated, cheerful, joyful, content, and ecstatic—and every word in this universe to describe his smile. He didn't look repulsed or anything at all. Right now, I feel incredibly stupid. For a blink of a second, I thought that maybe he would like me too. He held me, he comforted me, and God, we almost kissed—but maybe it was just my delusion feeding me with unrealistic dreams for the sake of my hopeless romantic heart. I definitely made him uncomfortable; he was surely disgusted and repulsed by me for how I behaved and how I looked because in no way in heaven did I look like her.

"Captain is a lucky bastard."

"Quiet, Kyle."

I didn't listen to the banter of the boys; the only thing worth my concentration was John and how he laughed with this beautiful woman, and how I desperately wished it was me instead of her.  But life wasn't fair, and I was so freaking dumb for believing I had a chance. She sat down on John's lap. Would it be crazy to threaten her to leave him alone? She surely wasn't military-trained, and with her perfectly manicured nails, she would have trouble fighting me, but was it really her fault? She did nothing wrong, and I still wanted to gut that bitch out. Pardon me, I mean woman. As their lips touched each other after moments of anticipation, I almost lost it, but in fact, it strengthened my self-awareness, and finally, I knew all I thought happened between John and me was pure imagination. 

I took Ghost's Terrible Bourbon out of his hand and chugged it down as if it were orange juice. Kyle and Soap looked at me as if I had just murdered their grandma, but Ghost had a knowing expression. How did that little shit notice my utterly cringe and embarrassing hopeless crush on the Captain?

"That Bourbon was expensive, Sergeant."

"I'll pay you back," I claimed—I won't—and he knew.

He almost whispered an act of kindness to him to not address it in front of Kyle and Soap, who wouldn't let me hear the end of this. "It will pass."

"What?"

"The feeling."

As I saw John and the pain of my existence making out like teenagers, I had finally enough. John had his fun, fine; I can also have much fun and forget that wixxer. Without responding to Ghost or entertaining Soap and Kyle's curious expressions and Kyle's question if I got my period, I left the table, walking straight to the table with the American mask boys. I will definitely regret this tomorrow, but tonight I don't care.

"Keegan, right? Come with me."

"Doll, do you really want to be a sore winner and rub your win under my nose?"

"I thought more of a consolation prize or how you say these things in English."

"Are you not a native English speaker?"

"And there I thought my accent was a dead giveaway."

"You're annoying, kid; did someone ever tell you this?"

"Ghost constantly."

"He is a dick."

"I'd second that."

"So tell me the real reason you're requesting my presence. Don't get me wrong, Doll. I won't mind, but I want to know why I have this luck."

"Nothing, just a girl in a bar speaking with a man in a bar."

"And there I thought, after you jumped into Price's arms today, you would be his partner."

"No."

"Liar."

"Did no one teach you how to flirt, Keegan?" I scoffed.

"Doll, I know how to sweep you off your tiny feet but tell me first, am I a rebounder?"

"Yes."

"Well, we can work with that," he grinned as he flicked his cigarette away, now completely focusing on me. "It must hurt seeing him like that at the bar."

"Like hell."

"Merrick was right. Price is an idiot and a goddamn fool. He's got a dime piece right here, and he's chasing after...that!?" He gestured over to that incredible woman.

"I wouldn't describe myself as a dime piece, Keegan."

Keegan leaned closer to me. His voice is now soft and low instead of his usual hoarse voice. "I would absolutely beg to differ. You're a goddess, and he's a complete moron if he doesn't realize that. Why do you even like this guy?"

I rolled my eyes at his hyperbel. "Well, isn't it obvious? He is tall, strong, and masculinely good-looking, but that is only his appearance. He is smart and funny; I would without a doubt rely my life on him." I noticed John's glance at me. Why? It's not like Keegan was the real enemy. 

"I'd just like to point out that so am I, and I've got something he doesn't." Keegan laughed, and his laugh was magnetic.  I would lie if I said he wasn't attractive, so would this be so wrong?

I'm single and young, so fuck off, John. "Tell me what you have and what he doesn't."

His expression turns to one of pure confidence and pride. "I've got class, doll. This 'captain' of yours is off there in this nasty bar, out with a random chick, eating her face at the bar for all to see. And I'm here, paying attention to you—only to you."

"Oh, so you're a high and mighty soldier with class and only pure intentions towards me?" I chuckled as I realized I was really bad at flirting, mostly because I only relied on my good looks. And here I am constantly insulting men I am interested in.

"Only the purest intentions towards you, and I got something else that he doesn't, doll."

"If you say big dick, I'm going to cringe."

He laughed, not even insulted by my comment. "As much as I'd love to, no. No, that wasn't what I was going to say. But I'm glad that's where your mind goes first."

"Well, then we are on the same page. But I think that's the problem with me. I think like a whore, and of course, he wouldn't like me. I'm just the type for fun, you know."

"Who told you that bullshit?"

"My ex."

"Bastard, come on, doll, let me show you a great time. Forget about that stupid captain of yours."

"Maybe I should."

He lowers his voice even further while his eyes meet mine, not afraid of eye contact. "I think he's intimidated by you. I mean, look at you. Smart, beautiful, and strong—you kicked all our arses today like we were toys, and Price knows that; he has no shot with you, and instead of taking a chance, he's hiding behind another girl."

His big hands started to caress my hair, tightly gripping it in an act of dominance. He wasn't afraid of showing me that he wanted me.

"Well, that other girl is hot."

"She might be hot, but she's also clearly not you. She's just someone he can control—someone who will do whatever he wants. Just a mere civilian girl with a boring life—but you're a different story. I already know how strong you can be and how much you like to do things your own way. And that's part of what makes you so irresistible—you're more than just a pretty face; you're a great soldier too."

Fuck it. I pulled him to my height, removing his mask enough so his full lips were finally free. He had a sharp jawline and stubbles that almost tickled against my skin as I finally planted my lips on his, desperate to kiss him and feel desired. He wasn't expecting my sudden kiss and his breath hitched for a moment, his hands tightening in my hair, keeping me so close. I could feel his lips curving into a slight smile, his eyes fluttering shut as his body froze, a low masculine groan escaping his mouth as he pressed his rock-hard body against mine. His hands started to roam over my body until they found my ass, squeezing it firmly and pulling me up in his arms to close even more distance.

John's POV

"Soldiers always had a different kind of appeal to me." If she tells me one more time how she fetishizes soldiers and how she always dreamt of marrying one and being a stay-at-home mom while her husband would be on dangerous deployments, I'd gladly off myself. It wasn't wrong to want to be a stay-at-home mom; John's mom was one too, and she did way more than his old man gave her credit for, but he always hated women who only cared about his status in the military and the benefits it came with. Well, at least she was pretty.

"Do you even listen, Johnny?" Johnny, really?

"Yes, of course, sweetheart." She always blushed when he called her sweetheart, and he felt incredibly terrible for only calling her that because he couldn't, for the love of God, remember her correct name: Sarah, or Sandra; certainly not Sunshine. John thought he could erase Sunshine completely from his brain by making out with that woman. He was wrong— it only made him long for her even more. For heaven's sake. He could lie to himself and say it was that woman's fault, but she was pretty and even a bit smart—she just wasn't Sunshine, and that frustrated him. He didn't even get a physical reaction out of that woman— even his dick betrayed him.

"Oh, God, John, that woman is completely embarrassing," she gestured at something, and when John turned around, he could see it. It was his woman in the arms of that tosser, exactly like he held her today, only that they were making out. Disgusting—deep inside, he knew he couldn't judge her. He was making out with a random woman in the bar just so he could forget her, but still, his stomach built a knot that twisted him like the time he got stabbed near his kidney in Afghanistan.  He would never admit that he was jealous—jealousy was something for weak people. He never felt this way before, and he won't start now. 

It clearly only bothered him because he was one of Merrick's fellow guys; he'd probably only flirted with her because of the rivalry. And as the good captain he was, he needed to stop that, right? So his woman—uhm, his sergeant—wouldn't get hurt and be unconcentrated in missions. 

Sunshine was now sitting on Keegan's lap as he whispered things in her ear that made her sweet cheeks rise with a beautiful color. John couldn't stand this sight anymore; his knuckles turned white from the tight fist he made. He didn't even listen to the woman whom he tried to lay tonight, and as Keegan walked towards the loo, he saw his chance to act like the proper captain he was, and he went after him.

"You deserve better than me, sweetheart, someone who is emotionally available." He didn't let her form her words in protest; he only put $50 down on the table and left in the direction of the loo. He entered the room, closing the door behind him. He was used to being intimidating, and he sure as hell would intimidate that little Sergeant of Merrick. He leaned against the door frame, not saying a word at first, waiting till he noticed him. Right now, he felt strong; it had something powerfull seeing his enemy with his dick out pissing—John was fully clothed, stoic, and strong while Keegan was exposed and vulnerable. John tried to hide his smirk as he saw how he was thicker than him down there—way more for his Sun to enjoy—concentrate on the task, John.

"Sergeant Russ," he said with his hoarse voice.

"Price, what do you want?" he practically spat out.

"Touch her again, and I'll make sure that you won't be able to touch anything else." He saw the look of fear in Keegan's eyes. Of course, he was a strong soldier, but Keegan wasn't a fool and knew that Price was a real threat. 

But then he tested John's patience by saying something foolish like "jealous that you won't be the one to make her scream in pleasure tonight." John saw red, his fists held close to his body, his knuckles turning white. He wanted to beat that shit out of that bastard, but being violent isn't what makes the other scared; it's his calmness and the fact that if he loses it, it's over. 

"Care to repeat that, Russ?"

"I'm going to touch her the whole night, and you guided her into my arms like an idiot." He didn't understand what he meant by him being at fault for Sun's interest in Russ, but never in his life dared someone to call him an idiot.

"I'll give you one last chance, leave her alone."

"Or what, you kill me?" he scoffed and laughed.

"Maybe I will," he said with a low growl that signaled Keegan that he wasn't joking. 

Both fell into silence as Soap and Ghost stumbled out of one of the cabins. They clearly fucked again; he would have said something about not sleeping around in the military, but he wasn't such a hypocrite. 

Soap interfered in the situation, "Aye, calm down, Captain; he isn't worth the stain." Why did they both need to interfere? He couldn't threaten Russ properly without giving the suggestion that he was more than just a caring captain for his Sun. 

Keegan rolled his eyes, "Whatever, I'm going to fuck your little sunshine now." Before John could react, Keegan already had a fist in his face. 

Surprisingly, not from John himself but from Ghost, the reserved man who seemed to hate Sunshine with all his heart. Was he perhaps interested in his Sun? No, never. Ghost was head over heels for Soap, even if he would never admit that. But why the sudden act? Keegan left the loo with a bloody lip.

"You fucked up, John."

"I know, Simon."

Soap and Ghost left the bathroom shortly after, and John could hear the arguing, something about Soap being jealous and thinking Ghost wanted Sunshine, and Ghost replying that Soap was fucking delusional and should know his place. If he hadn't been entrenched in his own hell of drama, he would have talked to Simon. Fucking hell that evening was fucked up. 

As he left the bathroom, going to the booth of his boys, he noticed how Soap and Ghost were silent, Soap's glance almost burning in rage. Sunshine was dancing with Keegan while he groped her precious ass. John sat miserably with his own scotch, but at least Gaz was happy drinking his beer and ranting about something.

After a while, he saw Keegan pull Sun over his shoulder, and they went straight out of the bar, with her being a tipsy and giggling mess. "What a show-off," he scoffed.

"How funny that Sunny is the only one getting action tonight," Kyle looked confused as every man at the table shot him a death glare. For heaven's sake, that evening was cursed, and in all vulnerability, John hoped that this was just a one-night thing for her.

Sunshine's POV

He threw me over his shoulder and carried me out of the bar. As we walked towards his room in the base, I could already feel my arousal approaching. It took forever since we stopped always to make out.

You could say a lot about him; he is arrogant, narcissistic, and a bit crazy, but he's a damn good kisser. We reached his barrack, it was as simple as hers just that his wasn't a single. She hoped desperately that his roommate didn't bulge in. 

He pressed me against the door frame as their kiss deepened, Keegan's hand slipped under my shirt tracing soft circles on my back. His other hand slides gently around my hair pulling it towards him as a show of his dominance.

I couldn't hold back and moaned into his kiss. "Fuck it." I ripped his shirt off him ogling over his muscular frame. He was toned his pecks were perfectly sculpted, every woman would kill for that sight but I thought about John - stop it, forget John, think about Keegan.

Keegan smirked as I ripped off his shirt, his hands slowly exploring every inch of my clothed body. His touch was rough and possessive like he desperately needed me. He released a loud groan as I started to trace down his abs and prominent V line. I pulled off my shirt and bra and threw it in the corner. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of my breasts. His rough hand cupped them and his calloused fingers from his work in the military brushed across my hardened nipples. "Fuck," he breathed out his lips finding mine again in a hungry kiss. His erected dick already pressing against my stomach.

"Please Keegan, I need you." I pleaded, Keegan broke our kiss, his lips trailing down my neck and collarbone, his teeth graze my skin lightly as he nipped at my shoulder- Oh he is a biter. His hand squeezed my breasts again before he started to undo his pants. His hardened dick sprung out of his boxers, his pink tip already glistered with pre cum. He wasn't very thick but the length was impressive and he was circumcised. I licked my lips in anticipation. "Shit you're big." Keegan only chuckled darkly at my words. "I'll show you how big." He growls his hands moving to grip my hips firmly as he ripped off my thong revealing my already wet folds.

"Hey, I liked that one."

"I buy you a new one."

His finger dips into my moisture before teasing my throbbing entrance. "You're already so ready for me," he murmurs. 

"Keegan please stop teasing me."

Keegan's other hand slipped down to play with my clit. His thumb circling gently the sensitive knot. With one swift movement, he pushes his thick fingers deep inside of me. He groaned in pleasure at the tightness that surrounded him. "Fuck you feel so good- around my finger."

He pushed his fingers lazily against my G spot and started to scisor them inside, he looked determined at my face to learn which movement kept me going. I felt the knot in my stomach building up letting me almost explode. His lips trailed down my neck sucking on my nipples while he continued to abuse my clit.

"Cum on me Doll."

I came hard spasming around his thick fingers and coating them with my juices. Keegan's cock throbbed in anticipation as he watched me cum around his fingers. He pulls his hand away, relishing the sight of my wetness. "That's it, baby girl."

"Let me take care of you Keegan." I let myself fall on my knees and slowly started to stroak his dick and lick the pre cum of his swollen tip. Keegan groans deeply, as I take his cock into my mouth, his hips jerking automatically forward. He grips my hair trying to maintain his control. "Fuck Doll." 

I bobbed my head up and down while playing with his balls with one of my free hands. He pushes his cock deeper inside of me but he should know that I'm the one in control. I bite softly on his tip to make him crazy. His lips escaped moans - loud moans. His cock throbbed in anticipation leaving stains of pre cum on my tongue. "Fuck Doll, that feels good don't stop."

I began to deep throat him almost gaging because of his length, my eyes began to tear, I tried to maintain eye contact. Keegan's grip on my hair tightens his knuckles turning white. His hips jerk forward, pushing only deeper into my throat. "You're so fucking good at that, I cant last longer."  I press my plump lips together tightening the friction around his member. 

As he feels him getting close he pulls my head back away. "Not quite yet Doll," he growls his voice stained with the effort to hold back his orgasm. I started to laugh and ignored his attempts to last longer I moved my head faster. "Fuck you're going to make me cum." I moaned in agreement - my voice only sending vibrations down his dick.

Keegan grunts loudly. His entire body tensing up as he loses control and erupts deep inside my throat. His cock twitches repeatedly, sending wave after wave of hot cum down my throat, I swallow every sip of his cum and finally hold my tongue out showing him my empty mouth. Keegan stared down at me in shock, his eyes dark with lust and satisfaction. His muscular thigh trembles as he tries to hold his composure. He gently traces down my jawline. "Fuck you're mine Doll" - I was definitely not his. 

Keegan lifted me and threw me on the bed as he spread my legs wide, positioning himself between my legs - his cock already hardening again. He looks down at me with a predatory grin, then lowers himself onto my waiting sex and pushes inside me with one powerful trust making me scream in pleasure and pain at the same time. 

He begins thrusting into me, hard and fast. The bed cracks under our combined weight as he takes me roughly. His muscular arms flex with each stroke. 

"Keegan, it feels so good."

"Doll," he groans his voice hoarse with lust, "you're so fucking tight I can barely hold back." 

"Don't hold back, Keegan. Fuck me."

He grins. "You like it rough doll?" I nodded and with a swift move, he flips me over onto my stomach and pulls my ass up, with brutal precision and starts a relentless pace as he fucks me from behind.  His large hand gripped me tightly leaving marks on my body. "This is what you want isn't it?"

I start to clench around him, only getting more aroused at his words. "Oh you're so wet," he murmurs, moving one hand between my legs to stroke my neglected clit. The added sensation sends shockwaves of pleasure through my body causing me to arch my back and cry out his name.

"That's it, Doll, take it all." 

"I'm close - please, Keegan," I pleaded to him to finally release me.

"Cum for me Doll," he growls picking up the pace even more. His cock slams into me over and over again, each thrust sending a vibration through my core as he pinched my clit hard. I started to cry out of pleasure and finally came spasming around his dick - coating him with all my juices.  Keegan held me firm supporting my body weight as he let me ride out my orgasm while starting to kiss me all over my body and leaving marks everywhere. 

After my orgasm, he guided me on top of him and I started to ride him as his hands roam over my body, griping my hips tightly again. His eyes followed the movements of my breasts, his mouth watering at the sight. He pulled me forcefully tight onto his shaft brushing against my cervix so I would start to see stars, his hand now pressed against the familiar bulge inside my womb.

Keegan started to rub my overstimulated clit again as he finally chased after his release, with each thrust his hips slams powerful against me, he became slowly sloppy and uncontrolable begging me to finally release him.

I clenched tight around his dick, his eyes rolled back inside his skull. With a groan that echoes through the room, Keegan's hot seed erupts inside of me, filling me up completely. His cockhead twitches as he emptied himself inside of me- pushing his cum deeper into my hole.

"Fuck." He collapsed on top of me, our bodies still entwined, Keegan pressed his face into the crook of my neck inhaling my scent. "What the fuck was that, no women made me cum like that before."

"Well, I'm pretty skilled at these things."

"You're fucking amazing Doll." He slowly pulled his softening dick out of me watching his seeds drip down from my cunt into his mattress.

"As much as I like to see you coated in my cum, let me clean you up."

"Oh, what a gentleman."

"It's the least I can do after you gave me the best orgasm of my life." 

"Oh was it?"

"Don't lie to me it was fucking amazing for you too."

"A close third place Keegan." I grinned.

"Don't challenge me Doll." 

"Or what?"

"You will regret this."

"Why?"

"You like Price even tho I don't know why."

"And Price doesn't like me, so I can have all my fun while he has his with that other woman."

"His loss is my win."

He cuddled against me after he cleaned his seed from my thighs but as he fell asleep snoring the only thought in my brain was John. 

I'm screwed.

[pacifymebby]

Hope u r doing okay ❣️

Which of the peaky men would make the best fathers do you think?

ahhh you caught me at a broody moment bestie so

I think of all the Peaky men Bonnie and John would make the best fathers, they both strike me as family orientated, "fun" dads. They're definitely both very into keeping you pregnant haha, but I will get into that later, here are some quick little HCs about the men as dads <3

Tommy

🌿 "Over Protective Dad"

🌿 He's the serious type of dad, the one with lots of rules, the one who definitely means it when he says "Behave, or else." He's very strict and the children definitely know not to cross him, sometimes you worry that he's too stern... and so does Tommy.

🌿 Because he adores his children, he's so proud of them and he has so much love for them, they're his proof that good things can really exist in this very bitter and twisted world... he just isn't always good at showing that love because the more you love something the more it hurts to lose that thing...

🌿 So he's terrified, every single second of every single day, that he's going to lose his little ones, that one way or another they'll be ripped away from him.

🌿 Thats why he has all these rules, and why he's so determined to see them kept to. Because he doesn't want something bad to happen to his children as a result of his "negligence"

🌿 He's also petrified that he'll be the reason their lives are ruined, he's scared he'll drive them away... a fear which is naturally made worse by his cold exterior and his struggle to be close with his family. He's always putting a distance between himself and the ones he loves, and it traps him in a mean cycle.

🌿 The kind of parent thats always trying to hide the worlds badness from his children, he wants them to stay innocent and care free for as long as possible so he wraps them in cotton wool and won't ever want them to do anything which could risk an unhappy ending.

🌿 That being said he rarely "lets" them win at games.

🌿 He gets very paranoid about their friends, the kind of parent that needs to know his children's friends parents before he lets the kids out of his sight. He worries when they're out after school, even more so if he has daughters.

🌿 Will hate his daughters boyfriends, will try his best to intimidate them.

🌿 His children will grow up resenting him for being controlling but in the end they will understand why he raised them the way he did because,

🌿 Ultimately Tommy is a devoted father figure, he's nurturing to the best of his ability. Nothing will hit harder than a "dad hug" when the kids are upset. He's sentimental as fuck so will make sure he is at every big event in the kids lives, he'll be the one taking photos.

🌿 Will never fail to tell his children he is proud of them. Sometimes it's a little scary when he tells them he loves them because he feels the emotion quite intensely.

🌿 Has killed for his children at least once, is determined they'll never find out.

Arthur

🍂 "Overwhelmed Dad"

🍂 Is absolutely desperate to be a good, hands on father but oh my god is it difficult! Theres so much to remember, so many things which need to be done all at once... He's the father who always has food stains on his shirt, the one who is always at least fifteen minutes late, running down the street with the kids to try and get them into school on time... He forgets stuff all the time, sends the kids to school without a packed lunch or dinner money and has to go running back with it.

🍂 He is very awkward at first because he's paranoid that he will be too rough, hold the baby too tightly, that he's going to hurt them. But he is just so full of love and adoration and even when they're very small his children will sense that love and feel happy whenever daddy is near.

🍂 His children are his sun stars and universe. They're his reason to heal and carry on living despite all the pain he often feels inside. They're his hope.

🍂 Always self conscious that he's being too loud or too rough, he's always swearing then apologising for swearing in front of them. "Son your fathers a very naughty man eh, you shouldn't try to copy him yeah?"

🍂 "fook" is probably one of your babies first words despite all of his efforts. His brothers think that this is completely hilarious but Arthur feels so bad about it.

🍂 He doesn't want his children to grow up to be anything like him, he can't see any of the good that you see in him, only the bad so he's always worrying that his kids will have inherited "the bad seed"

🍂 It isn't true however, where Arthur sees himself as over emotional/ unpredictable with violent mood swings, you see him as a passionate man with real feelings. You see him as someone who needs nurture and care. You're always trying to remind him that his "flaws" make him a more empathetic person, that he'll much better be able to understand his children because of his own life experiences.

🍂 A really defensive father, if his kids get into trouble at school for anything he will be 100% on his kids side, if they were scrapping then the other kid definitely started the fight and deserved it, if they were back chatting a teacher then "what the fuck are you doin eh? You're an adult and you can't stand up to a fucking six year old? Thats mad..."

🍂 You're constantly having to apologise to the school on his behalf but on the plus side your kids aren't ever getting bullied.

🍂 If you have daughters they will definitely be doing their best to keep boyfriends a secret... This is perhaps not really necessary though because ultimately Arthur is a desperately loving father who would do anything to make his kids happy... so your daughters don't need to worry about a thing, as long as their boyfriend intends to marry them and care for them until the end of his days.

John

🌼 "Still a Kid Dad"

🌼 He's the "fun" parent, the soft one that the kids know to ask for extra play time or sweets. They know they can get away with bloody murder when it comes to their dad. If they're boys he's going to be impressed when they manage to weasel their way out of trouble and if they're girls all they have to do is pull those adorable puppy eyes and they will definitely get what they want.

🌼 Absolutely spoils the kids rotten! Basically he lives to see his children smiling and to hear them laughing so he will do whatever he thinks is going to earn him hugs and smiles.

🌼 A real criminal when it comes to feeding the kids things like rice pudding, chocolate pudding "one for you, one for daddy, little scoop for you, big spoon for daddy..."

🌼 Always helping them get up to know good. Teaches them naughty rhymes and then daring them to sing them in front of you so that you're permanently horrified.

🌼 They make him behave like a big kid so he's always playing stupid imaginary games, playing cowboys with them, playing tig, always starting food fights with them any excuse to play fight and tickle them... Any excuse to pick the littlens up and squeeze them in a big hug.

🌼 So many Dad jokes just waiting to be dropped it's like a disease, he just can't stop making the worst jokes you've ever heard and yet his kids think he's hilarious.

🌼 Can, very rarely, but sometimes be serious, but it's only when something very serious has happened such as if he thinks the family is under threat or the children are in danger. It's so rare to see daddy serious that the kids always do as he says in these situations, it's like they can just sense that play time is over.

🌼 Absolutely adoring, falls asleep with the baby on his chest all the time, never wants to put the littlens down. Smothers them in kisses.

🌼 Whenever its your birthday he will gather all the littlens up to try and bake mummy's birthday cake, it will be messy, it will be bordering on a catastrophe, the kids and him will be covered in flour, sugar, cake mix, chocolate, the lot. But it will be the best thing you've ever eaten.

🌼 Perhaps the reason John is the way he is is that he didn't get much of a childhood himself, his own father let him down astronomically when he was a lad and so he's determined that his children are going to have as much fun as possible. He hates seeing them sad, doesn't ever want them to feel let down. So even though you do sometimes get very fed up with always being the "strict" parent you can understand why John is as laidback with he kids as he is. It's because he's trying so hard to give them everything he never had.

🌼 Look he's lowkey addicted to being a dad, wants to have so many children with you, can't keep his hands off you... He will always always be telling you what a good mother you are, how beautiful you look when you're pregnant, how proud he is of you, always talking to you about how together you've made a gorgeous family. Whenever you're holding one of the little ones, or whenever you're playing with the children he'll tell you how much motherhood suits you.

Alfie

🐻 "Grumpy Daddy"

🐻 Wasn't ever really expecting to be a father, wasn't ever really expecting to be a husband either to be honest but well, here he is and he can't say he isn't happy with his lot in life. When he finds out you're pregnant he is stunned, but he's determined to be a good father...

🐻 Always grumbling affectionately about parenthood, if his kids ask for help he'll put on a big song and dance of huffing and puffing and "oh I suppose I have to don't I I suppose I can't say no to my little angel..."

🐻 There is absolutely nothing this man will not whinge about, if theres a birthday party he has to take them to, if its the school run, other children's parents, helping with snack time, helping with homework, reading the bedtime story, carrying the kids when their legs get too tired... He will make a big song and dance all "woe is me the exhausted, overworked father, he never gets a minute to himself, never any peace and quiet, always bending over backwards for his family and what thanks does he get eh? What thanks exactly do I get in return for all this?"

🐻 Usually by the end of these speeches his little ones are giggling and you're affectionately rolling your eyes... Usually a kiss on the cheek is all the thanks he really needs to shut him up. And he's never being serious anyway, he actually really loves being a dad, its much nicer being at home with the family, playing the hero rather than the villain as he does at the bakery and in his dealings with Tommy Shelby.

🐻 Makes up the bedtime stories, they always go on and on and on, with the strangest characters.... Often he will ramble on and lose himself all "and then the princess yeah, the beautiful, mesmerising, heavenly princess in the tower... who looks a lot like you now I come to think of it my little cherub... the princess right, she looks down at the prince and she says, oi, mate... you touch my hair again yeah and I'll chop your head off and kick it like a football all the way to Timbuktu..." "Daddy!" your little one will gasp, giggling and fighting him, "a princess wouldn't say that!" "Well you see this princess would right my little angel cause this Princess yeah, she's a feminist ain't she..."

🐻 Honestly he'd be such a soft father to a little girl, he'd spoil her rotten and she'd be the princess of Camden town. Nothing would ever be good enough for his little cherub.

🐻 Would make a point of turning up on the first day of school so that everyone would know who his kids father is, so that they'd know not to mess with them - teachers included.

🐻 Much like Tommy however he is very overprotective, he has lots of rules as a result of him always worrying about his children. He knows the absolute pits the world can sink to, he knows how dangerous it is out there and therefore he will constantly be werriting about the safety of his children, about who they're friends with, where they hang out. He will run background checks on all their friends. He will send Ollie out spying on them.

🐻 He's the kind of dad who won't forget about Mum, he'll see how tired you are and want to dote on you too. He'll definitely be the first to try and hush the kids so that mummy can have a nap, or he'll take them out to the market to pick out some presents for mummy. He's always reminding them how much their mummy loves them and everything that she does for them, always reminding them to make sure they tell their mother that they love her very much.

🐻 Big on manners. Won't ever swear in front of the children and he won't let them curse either. He also is always reminding them of their manners, will not raise rude children who don't say please and thank you or hold doors open for people.

🐻 Similar to Arthur, his children can never do any wrong, the only person who is going to tell his kids off his him, if a teacher wants to talk about his children's bad behaviour he's going to talk to the teacher about why they're failing as a role model.

Bonnie

🍀 "Nurturing Dad"

🍀 Family is the most important thing in this lads life. He is absolutely devoted to you and the children, he would do anything for you. He never misses anything, from birthdays to bath time, story time... anything, he doesn't want to miss a second of his children's lives.

🍀 He's very laidback, often very cheeky, always very quick to make you and the little ones laugh. Much like John he's the "fun" parent, he's always playing games with the children, loves to make them laugh with silly little slight of hand tricks (definitely overdoes the "coin from behind the ear" trick)

🍀 Will teach his kids boxing, will teach the girls to fight too if its what they want letting them punch his hands and try to take him out (if all the kids gang up on him at once they can wrestle him to the floor so that you have to save him... not that you always feel like it - "hmmm I don't know Bon, I think you might have been asking for it?"

🍀 His favourite thing to do is to gather all the little ones up into bed with you and him, all of you tucked under the covers for a bedtime story. He does the voices but he gets shy in front of you so he can't help but blush when he's doing the silly parts. Encourages the kids to join in and do the voices themselves.

🍀 Loves to teach the littlens things, practical skills like woodworking/ hunting/ how to make a fire or a shelter. Any excuse to take them out into the forest to build a den or go camping.

🍀 He's really traditional and would definitely want to raise the children with traditional traveller values, wants to raise them how he was raised however

🍀 He's ambitious and he doesn't want his children to grow up in the bordering on poverty that he grew up in so he will work so hard to give them anything they could ever desire. He doesn't exactly spoil them because he definitely teaches them the value of their work, but he'd never let his children go without. He never lets you go without either, even if he doesn't want to spoil the children he does want to spoil you, "you deserve it sweetheart, for being such a perfect mammy."

🍀 Wants to have a really big family and loves getting you pregnant. He loves taking care of you and being nurturing when you are pregnant and he loves doting on you and the children... One day when they're all grown up his empty nest syndrome will be worse than yours.

🍀 A really nurturing father, will teach his boys that it's alright to cry and express their emotions, will want to kill anyone who makes his little girls cry. Will teach his sons to look after and love their sisters. Will raise his kids to know that family comes first always. If one of his kids gets into trouble at school for fighting, but it turns out he was fighting to defend his sister, Bonnie will be really proud of them and much to the teachers despair, will tell them "you did the right thing, next time hit him twice, one from me eh?"

🍀 Will do his best to be friendly when his daughters bring boys home but he will need so much support from you, so many gentle reminders to "be nice" because thats his little girl and what if this lad isn't good enough, what if they hurt her or let her down or... You'll probably have to remind him that no matter what no ones going to replace her dad, he'll always be important to her.

Isaiah

🐀 "Cool Dad"

🐀 Don't get me wrong, I'm sure that he's going to mature into a decent father but, it's going to take some time and a lot of growing up.

🐀 I get slightly unreliable vibes from him. He won't take parenthood seriously at first, he'll have no idea how hard it is or how out of his depth he is... He'll definitely think that everyone else is exaggerating when they warn him how much of his life he's going to have to put into being a father... Fatherhood is going to hit him like a freight train.

🐀 He assumes he's going to be great at it because he assumes he's great at everything, but then he's overwhelmed by the long sleepless nights and how difficult it is to read a babies mind... So because he isn't immediately great at it it knocks his confidence a bit, he gets frustrated with himself and becomes convinced that he's "just not meant to be a father"

🐀 So this leads to arguments, naturally... because "you really should have thought about that before you knocked me up Isaiah!" You would start to doubt whether you could rely on him, whether he resents you and the children as a burden, whether he even wants to stay with you or whether he's going to leave...

🐀 When you argue about that fact and you come out with "well if you're so fucking unhappy why don't you just leave... if you're so convinced you're not meant to be a father we'll just have to get by without you won't we..." He'd be stunned by this outburst and genuinely have no idea where it's come from. Because he's stupid.

🐀 He'd be really taken back but forced to consider your words he'd start to realise that this is hard for both of you, that you're both doing something you've never done before, that the responsibility is new and tiring for you both... just because he thinks you're better at it than he is doesn't mean you're not also just making it up as you go along...

🐀 And your suggestion that he might want to leave you makes him realise just how much he could lose, makes him realise that he doesn't want to lose you or the little ones, that even if its hard he wants so badly to be a good man and father.

🐀 So then he'd start trying a lot harder, he'd stop expecting to get everything right the first time, he'd start trying to learn from you. Like I said, he's going to be a good father, but it's going to take time.

🐀 In awe of how good at mothering you are, doesn't understand how you can be soft and gentle and patient when the baby won't stop crying... He longs to develop that kind of patience but honestly, you have the patience of a saint and he knows he's never going to be as easy tempered as you.

🐀 He's a strange mixture of over protective and completely irresponsible, he takes the children with him to the pub, he lets them sip the foam from his beer to teach them that they won't like it. He will let them run riot at family gatherings.

🐀 Has definitely forgotten then baby and left them sleeping in their carrier under the table at the pub at least once.

🐀 However, the children are never allowed out of his sight, they can go to these places but only with him where he's there to look after them. His theory is that if he's so strict that his children never get to have any fun, they'll grow up wanting to break rules and do stupid dangerous things just for the sake of rebelling, so he's cool about it, he lets them drink when they're older so that they'll see theres nothing special about it, he'll let them hang around with the Blinders so that the mystery and glamour is taken out of it... whether this tactic works you'll have to wait and see, you're not entirely confident however...

🐀 He will be the kind of parent that speaks to his children like they're adults, they're going to learn swearing and sarcasm and back chat really young and its going to be a nightmare.

🐀 Will be suspicious of all boys who so much as look at his daughters because he was a teenage boy once and he knows what they're like. Whenever you remind him, "we were just as bad at that age..." he'll say "exactly and look where it got us, I'm not having some halfwit knock up my daughter!"

🐀 sometimes you think he says that just so you'll tell him that actually he makes a really good father.

Michael

☘️ "Perfectionist Dad"

☘️ Being a father is probably more important to Michael than you realise... Having been taken from his real family when he was very young, he feels there's a part of childhood which he was robbed of and he's determined to make sure his own children have the best childhood.

☘️ Because of this he has quite a few rules that he sets, he just wants his children to be safe and to not waste their potential... however he will occasionally be soft on these rules and let things slide if he thinks it's going to make the children and you happy.

☘️ He puts so much pressure on himself to be the perfect father. He will never express his doubts to you but he has such high expectations of himself and you can tell. Sometimes you have to give him a kiss on the cheek and remind him that as long as he's doing his best thats all that matters, that his children will love him even if he makes mistakes. That you think he's a really good father and wouldn't ever wish for anyone else to be the dad to your kids.

☘️Tries his best to be supportive, sometimes struggles to be patient because he's a logical thinker and you can't always solve baby's crying the way you can a maths problem. Imagine him trying to reason with a toddler who won't eat their rice pudding... "Look you might not appreciate this right now little one but this snack is highly nutritious, its an excellent source of protein and its got lots of calcium which is especially important for making you grow big and strong just like daddy... so even if you don't like it eh, better to eat it up..." "Michael he's two..." "I'm just explaining...." "T W O"

☘️ You wouldn't expect it of him, and it's definitely something he struggles with a little however he's always determined to be an affectionate and loving father. He definitely comes off as being too serious when he kisses his children on the forehead and tells them he loves them, but they always know they can come to him when they need a hug.

☘️ He's a really attentive father when it comes to things like waking up in the night if the kids have had a nightmare or something, he will let you get your much needed rest and he'll be the one to deal with all issues nocturnal. Can change a nappy in his sleep, can pretty much sleep walk between your bed and the kids bedroom to answer their crying in the night.

☘️Will spoil his daughters rotten and accidentally raise princessy types. Doesn't really see the problem however because he thinks they're perfect in every way and deserve the absolute best.

☘️ Just like Tommy he is determined they will keep their childhood and their innocence for as long as possible. He will do his best to keep his children away from the family business, he doesn't want them to know that their father is a criminal and he certainly doesn't want them to ever know of all the evil things him and his cousins have done in the past. As a result he tells his children a lot of lies, feels incredibly guilty for being dishonest, and then ends up telling even more lies anyway.

☘️ He absolutely doesn't want his girls anywhere near boys, especially not peaky boys. He doesn't even really like them getting to see their cousins at family gatherings, is always reminding them that they're not like their cousins, they're honest well behaved children, their cousins are wild and can't be trusted.

☘️ Will try to teach his children to be brave, will want them to be able to stand up for themselves. He's a man with childhood trauma and he wishes he'd had the "wits" to defend himself as a child so he wants his own children to be able to fight back. However, a key component of this is that he wants his children to be able to tell him anything and know that their dad will always be on their side, he doesn't want them to keep any secrets from him at all. Wants them to know he will never be angry at them and that it's always better to tell daddy everything.

☘️ If anyone ever threatens or hurts his children he will probably genuinely plot to kill them, have them killed.

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