#while John and Simon touch each other at the sight

[etclouie]

ffrom the 300 prompst list can i have ²⁷⁶⁾ “please, she could scare the balls off a brass monkey with a single look.” and ¹⁾ “it’s too early for this.” with poly 141? if not its cool

title; too early (poly!141 x fem!reader)

prompts; 276) “please, she could scare the balls off a brass monkey with a single look” and 1) “it’s too early for this” — from three hundred assorted dialogue prompts 

warnings; established relationship, poly relationship, kyle and soap are arguing baso, simon lowk being the voice of reason?? but that’s it (571 words)

one year masterlist | main masterlist

— come celebrate my one year!!

you’d woken to the sound of Soap and Kyle bickering, something they often did before making up just as quickly. 

todays argument, you weren’t too sure of what started it, but when they noticed they woke you? it only added fuel to the flame. 

“look you’ve woke her”

Kyle told Johnny, left hand pointing your way in a ‘look what you’ve done’ type of way while Johnny scoffed, glancing over to you and taking note of the glare you were shooting their way. 

“mate it was your fault”

you sighed, listening to their back and forth, watching them point fingers at each other before the occasional point in your direction. 

even as you tried to break apart their argument, they continued on. 

it had gotten to the point it had gained John’s attention from the living room, while Simon remained tucked away in the shower. 

“what’s the matter with you two?”

he interrupted them, eyes stern at the two of them while softly hooking a finger under your chin, voice softening. 

“you okay love?”

you nodded, the glare in your eyes momentarily leaving as you nestled into his touch. 

his thumb stroked across your cheek, his eyes moving back to Kyle and Johnny. 

“couldn’t leave her be, could yous?”

it was obvious that they’d annoyed John for waking you. 

“couldn’t leave her in peace, what’d she ever do to you two?”

they shared a look, before meeting Johns eyes again, disbelief painted across both of their faces. 

“oh please, you didn’t see the look she just gave us for waking her”

Johnny told, hands poised on his hips in utter disbelief. 

“please, she could scare the balls off a brass monkey with a single look”

Kyle commented, hand pointed in your direction again while you huffed this time. 

you crossed your arms over your chest, frustration blooming in your chest as you shot Kyle another glare. 

“see she’s proving my point”

Johnny all but laughed, clearly glad your frustration wasn’t as pointed at him anymore. 

“sure mate, but she’s no gonny forgive you that easy for sooking up tae her”

Kyle started the bickering again, even giving Johnny a shove, making you sigh as you continued to watch the sight. 

John however, only shook his head at the sight, letting them bicker it out instead of intervening. 

but it was relentless. 

that was until Simon emerged from the bathroom, towel drawn tight around his waist. 

the sight drew your attention towards him, a smile tugging at your lips as Simon fished out clean clothes from the dresser. 

John had nipped into the shower, avoiding Johnny and Kyle’s continued bickering as Simon tried focusing his attention in on you. 

“stop being a dafty”

Johnny shoved at Kyle, a sigh falling from your lips and making Simon’s eyes pull away from you, frustration painting his maskless face. 

he cast a glance towards Johnny and Kyle, their bickering continuing and making Simon stop in his tracks. 

you on the other hand, were still sat in bed, eyes flicking between the three men while Simon ran a hand down his face in frustration. 

“oi!”

Simon’s voice boomed through the bedroom, stopping Johnny and Kyle’s bickering. 

“it’s too early for this”

they shared a look again, before simmering down, lips drawn in thin lines as Simon spoke once more. 

“cut it out or go fight it out”

reblogs are highly appreciated !

[baduzzxy]

dogs dogs dogs they are ALLLLLL dogs and i drool for it 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤

The day begins like any other.

You wake up to the soft sound of the morning breeze rustling the curtains, sunlight spilling into the room in gentle golden streams. John is already gone, leaving only the faintest trace of warmth in the bed beside you. It’s no surprise- he’s a man of duty, all of them are, always rising early to tend to matters of the estate. But as you stretch and let out a soft sigh, you have no idea the storm you’re about to stir in his household.

You dress yourself today, in one of the lighter gowns Kyle had set out for you the night before. It’s soft and flowing, another gift from Simon, a delicate ivory fabric that catches the light and makes you glow as if spun from sunlight itself. You think nothing of it- it’s a comfortable gown, one that’s perfect for the warm weather of today. You fix your hair, a few strands left free to frame your face. It’s a simple look, practical even.

But it is enough to absolutely ruin them.

John is the first to catch sight of you.

You find him in his study, poring over letters and documents, glasses perched low on his nose. The moment he looks up, his quill halts mid-stroke, ink dripping onto the parchment below.

You don’t notice the way his breath hitches. You don’t see the way his eyes darken as they sweep over you, lingering far longer than they should on the soft curve of your throat, the swell of your breasts just barely visible through the gauzy material of your dress, the delicate shape of your collarbone begging to be kissed.

“… My Duchess,” he greets, voice low and strained.

You smile, unaware of how the simple gesture strikes him like a bolt of lightning straight through his chest. “Good morning, John. I didn’t mean to disturb you- I was just going to the gardens.”

His jaw tightens. God, you’re beautiful. Ethereal. Untouchable, almost, and yet here you are- his wife. His to hold, his to cherish, his to adore. The mere thought of it makes his heart pound painfully in his chest.

You’re so sweetly oblivious, so utterly trusting. You lean over his desk, pointing at one of the letters as you ask about estate matters, and all he can focus on is the faint scent of roses lingering on your skin and the warmth of your breath against his cheek. He aches to pull you into his lap, to ruin that pretty dress and leave you breathless and marked, but-

“My Duchess,” he rasps again, standing abruptly. You blink up at him, startled. “Don’t linger in the sun too long. I shall see you later.” It’s the only warning he can give himself before he brushes past you and leaves the room, his restraint hanging by a thread.

Kyle finds you next, standing in the rose garden with a soft smile as you hum to yourself. You’re radiant, the sunlight catching in your hair and making you glow like some goddess of nature.

He was supposed to be bringing you tea. Instead, he stands there frozen, tray in hand, just watching.

You turn and catch sight of him, greeting him with that bright, lovely smile that never fails to make his heart lurch. “Kyle!”

He clears his throat quickly, straightening his shoulders and bringing the tray over, though he’s painfully aware of the warmth creeping up his neck.

“My lady,” he murmurs, setting the tea down on the garden table and pouring for you. His hands are steady, but his mind isn’t.

He barely hears you as you speak about the roses, about the arrangements for the next gathering. His thoughts are clouded by the way you keep brushing your hair behind your ear, the gentle tilt of your head as you sip your tea, the way your lips press together so sweetly.

You lean forward suddenly, reaching to brush a leaf off his shoulder, and Kyle stiffens. You don’t notice.

“You’re always taking such good care of me, Kyle,” you say softly, smiling up at him. “Thank you.”

He doesn’t trust himself to speak. He only nods stiffly, stepping back quickly before he does something utterly improper.

Johnny is the worst of them.

You come into the kitchen around noon, asking him for a small snack to hold you over until dinner since you had a small lunch. He’s elbow-deep in flour and dough, sleeves rolled up and shirt slightly damp with sweat, but the second he sees you standing in the doorway, his brain completely short-circuits.

“Johnny?” you call again softly, stepping in.

He drops the spoon that’d been near, cursing as he scrambles to pick it up and then cursing again because his hands are now dirty. Yet- his eyes keep flicking up to you- how you look so soft and delicate in the kitchen’s golden light, how the dress hugs your figure and makes it so damn hard for him to focus.

You laugh at the sight of him like this, and the sound is like honey poured straight into his veins.

“Sorry, m’lady.” he says, voice rough, but you’re already stepping closer.

“It’s alright.” You reach past him to grab a plate, and he just about groans aloud at the way you brush against him, soft and warm and plush and utterly unaware of the effect you have on him.

“Johnny?” You look up at him, eyes so wide and trusting.

“Yeah?” He barely recognizes his own voice.

“You’re staring.”

He chokes, turning back to wash his hands as quickly as possible. “Sorry, m’lady. I’ll- uh- I’ll make something quick for you, promise.”

You only smile, sitting down at the counter and watching him work. He feels your gaze like a brand, burning into his skin, and he has never been so grateful for the long apron covering the very obvious evidence of his distraction.

And then there’s Simon.

You don’t even realize he’s there, watching you from the shadowed corner of the room as you flip through the books in the library. You hum softly to yourself, trailing your fingers over the spines, your dress shifting with every movement.

Simon feels like a beast barely kept on a leash. He’s gripping the edge of the shelf so tightly his knuckles have gone white, jaw clenched so hard it aches.

He wants you. Needs you.

You tilt your head to read a title, exposing the curve of your neck, and his breath catches. He imagines what it would feel like to press his lips there, to hear you gasp as he holds you close-

And then you turn and spot him.

“Simon!” You smile, moving toward him without hesitation, and he’s utterly undone.

“Hello, darling.” he murmurs, low and strained. Knows that he if lifts his hand to cup your cheek, his fingers would be trembling.

“I was just looking for something to read.” You say, so casually, so obliviously, as if you aren’t standing there looking like every single one of his fantasies come to life.

Simon only nods, forcing himself to step back before he does something he can’t take back.

By the time evening falls, the tension in the house is unbearable.

John’s jaw ticks as he watches you lean over the table, in a private dining room just for them, laughing at something Johnny said. Kyle’s eyes darken when he sees how your fingers brush against Simon’s as you pass him a dish. Johnny keeps flexing his hands as if he’s trying to resist the urge to grab you and pull you into his lap.

They’re all desperate, wound tight, and utterly at their limit.

And you- blissfully unaware- just keep smiling sweetly at them, unknowingly fanning the flames.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hey I live your what if scenarios and I had a request for them! Could you do one where the boys are having a night out where they let loose for the first time in a long while and then how each boy would drunkenly call you to come pick them up? And vise versa if it was reader drunk calling the cod boys

I'm going to focus on the first half of this, which is the guys calling us to come pick them up after letting loose at the pub. I went short and fun with these. A bit of humor. Enjoy!

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

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings (mdni): swearing, established relationship, drunken behavior, brief mention of alcohol, brief suggestive themes

Word Count: 800

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

John Price

It’s late, and you should really be in bed, but your book is far too good to put down. The enemies are becoming lovers, and you need to know what comes next. As you flip the page to start the next chapter, your phone vibrates. At first, you ignore it. When it falls silent and then starts up again, you frown, glancing at the screen to see who it is.

John, it reads. Your husband.

He’s out with his friends, letting loose for the first time in a long while. He deserves this, to be with people he cares about that doesn’t necessarily include you. But he’s calling you, and that does spark a hint of worry.

“John?” you answer.

“Come get me.”

“Everything all right?”

“I’m not made for this.”

“You—you what?”

The sigh on the other end of the phone is deep. “Johnny bought us all tequila shots.”

“Okay,” you say slowly.

“He hates tequila.” A pause. “Had to drink his as well as mine.”

“Oh, John.”

“You know whiskey is more my drink.” “I know.” You’re already grabbing your car keys, the enemies to lovers forgotten as you head for the garage. “I’m on my way.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

Your phone vibrates, rattling across the wood side table. It’s loud—loud enough to wake you. Without looking, you reach out, navigating the area by touch rather than sight. When your fingers brush against the buzzing device, you snatch it up, rolling onto your back, wincing at the bright light that greets you as the phone awakens to show who is calling.

Johnny.

You tap the green circle and bring the phone to your ear. “Do you know what time it is?” The reply you receive from him is garbled; his Scottish accent so thick it sounds like nonsense. “Johnny!”

“S’ned a ride, love.”

You’re far too tired for this. “Repeat that again.” A loud cheer drowns out his voice. There’s a crackling, and then Kyle is talking to you. “Johnny needs a ride home. Bloke is piss drunk.” Kyle laughs, and then Johnny is back, mumbling about how much he loves you and to please come get him.

You should be annoyed, but Johnny hasn’t been out with his friends in months. He needed this—to let loose and be a mess for the sake of it.

“Jesus Christ,” you groan, grabbing your car keys. “Just drop a pin.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“I need you to pick me up.”

Simon’s statement is slightly slurred, each word slowed below his usual pace of speech. It’s unlike him to go out and let loose. There’s always a tightness about him—a stiffness. But Johnny and Kyle convinced him, urged Simon to join them on a night out. Not that he doesn’t have a drink with the rest of the team after a successful mission. This is different. This is pub hopping. This is a late night out and an early return home come morning.

“Something wrong?” you ask, curious as to why he’s calling you.

“I am drunk,” replies Simon, the slurred speech a bit more pronounced than before. “And I miss you.”

Simon rarely drinks to the point of drunkenness. A little buzz is all he needs.

“We’re literally married,” you laugh. “You saw me,” you check the time, “four hours ago.”

There is a moment of silence on the other end before Simon finally speaks. “If you come pick me up right now, I will do the tongue thing.”

Negotiation.

“Done,” you answer automatically, because he’ll only keep adding in the hopes that you’ll take pity on him.

“Bloody brilliant,” sighs Simon.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You answer your phone, bringing it to your ear. “Hello, you,” you smile.

Kyle’s voice is soft. “Hello, love.”

You plop down on the sofa. “Where are the three off to now?”

Kyle chuckles, and it sounds nervous. “Well,” he begins. “That’s why I’m calling you.”

“Not asking me to join you?” you ask, your focus shifting away from the television and on the conversation.

“No,” answers Kyle. “But—”

You frown as you hear Kyle’s friend Simon growl, “Bloody fucking ridiculous.”

“Everything okay, Kyle?”

He sighs heavily. “Can you come pick us up?”

“Us?” you counter. “Who is us?”

Another heavy sigh. “Me. Johnny. And Simon.”

The reality show on the television is completely forgotten. You start to stand, ready to go for your keys at any moment. “What pub are you at?”

“We’re not at a pub.”

You blink. “Then where are you?”

A pause. “The police station.”

You bolt forward, rushing toward the kitchen to retrieve your keys. “What happened! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, love. Johnny flirted with someone’s wife. Started a fight. Simon joined to back him up. They just now releasing them.”

You roll your eyes. “Together, the three of you are a mess.”

[nighttimealone]

Cw: Nsfw (141 x fem!reader, live together)

Beside you, Kyle is the first to wake up in the morning. He’ll pad towards the kitchen, enjoying the sight of you making your morning drink silently, before moving to stand right behind you, arms wrapped around your waist as he grinds he bulge lazily against your ass. He just wants to feel your warmth, how nice your soft flesh press against his cock.

“Just want to feel you, baby. It’s so cold out here.” He’ll unabashedly slip his hands under your pajamas shirt, kneading your breasts and tugging at those sensitive buds, forcing you to stop brewing your drink because you might spill the liquid.

Kyle just want to get an orgasm from you, a gift for you two morning birds, he claims before succumbing to sleepiness and tuck himself back under the duvet, fully content with being the first man making you come undone everyday, and sleeps in 5 more minutes.

You know Johnny will drag you into the shower with him whenever he comes back from his morning jog. You chide him before he engulfs you in his embrace, lightheartedly calling him a stinky man and shush him to go shower first.

So his solution is hug you despite your protest, then pull you inside the bathroom together, stripping off your pajamas and his sports wear impatiently before jumping into the shower with you.

“We’re both stinky now, jus’ thought ye might need a shower too.” Johnny grins when you glare at him, shamelessly pretends he’s just ‘looking out for ye’ while his hands traveling across your body, groping and preparing you for his cock with his hard dick prodding at the small of your back. He’ll never hurt you, but as soon as you’re wet enough for his girthy shaft, he’ll pick you up, stretching you deeply and completely with the help of your weight, groans and growls at how good you are, how your precious pussy takes him so good, ignoring Ghost’s noise complaint coming from the other side of the bathroom door as he fucks you fast and feral, making you unable to care about suppressing your moans and cling onto him, let him keep scooping you in his arms and thrust into you till he empty his balls in your good little cunt.

Finally getting Kyle and Johnny pass out from the alcohol, John and Simon manhandle them back to the bedroom before entering the living room again. 00:13, a glance at the clock telling you it’s late in the night, but it’s just the start for the three of you. Retrieving a bottle of fine rum, John seats you between him and Simon, thighs touching with theirs as you all sip on the wine and chat quietly. “The boys will chug the rum like it’s some cheap beer, they can settle with those just fine.” John chuckles lowly and comments on the awful taste and drinking habit of Kyle and Johnny.

“Those bonkers will stick to your side the whole day and complain if they find out, old man.” Simon chimes in after huffing out a laugh at John’s words.

You snicker along with them, feeling fully content and relaxed with squished between two of your lovers, joking about the other two men you loved while the rum flows smoothly down your throat. Soon your composure slips after few nips of the wine, whining cute and groggily as Simon ravish in the kiss with you, tongues dance and tangle with each other in a slow pace, let him drink down all your syrupy moans and coos in rare gentleness, so John can slickens up your pussy with his lips and your juices, making sure you can accommodate their fat cocks later, and you can’t expect or plead him to sink his cock into you already until him and Simon can see your juices dripping down your soaked folds, praying them to fill you up.

The two men will treat you so well, worshipping their dearest girl in the world. Simon’s fingers and lips are always on you when John squeeze his fat tip into your entrance, gliding in and out slowly and heavily, so all those spongy spots of yours that can make you chant his name like a mantra aren’t missed out. When he put a load in you with a husky groan, passing you onto Simon’s lap and let you lean back on his chest, he’ll plant tiny kisses on your shoulder, murmur about how they love you—will protect you and keep you safe and sound—against your skin. Simon allows him to indulge in the heat and tightness of your pussy, grunting and praising you as he fuck John’s cum back inside you, making sure you take each drops of John’s seeds, like the reliable lieutenant he always is for his captain. The base of his length has formed a creamy froth the time he nips down slightly on your shoulder to muffle his moan, drenching your messy cunt with every bit of his release. “Atta girl.” His croon is added with John’s soothing voice “Yeah, been so good for us, princess.”

They both pick up the glass once again to finish the remaining rum, with you already drifting between your slumber and consciousness, listening to their small chatters as your own lullaby. You don’t know when they’ll finish drinking, or if one of them will nestle their cock inside your pussy again, just to feel your walls clenching down subconsciously, but you let yourself slip into a dream, because they’ll take good care of you, always do and always will.

[oceantornadoo]

pockets of possessiveness (john price x lieutenant f!reader)

you knocked on his door with your pillow in hand, feet freezing on bare tile. after a second, you heard a gruff “come in”, and pushed open the door to the sight of your captain smoking a cigar with paperwork spread around him. he looked up at you syrup-slow, eyes dragging up and down your body.

“whose clothes are those?” you peeked down at the oversized tee and boxers you wore. “mine.” he grunted. “y’ make it a habit buyin’ shit that doesn’t fit.” you rolled your eyes, stomping over to the couch you came for. “yes, actually. i like to buy oversized shirts and men’s boxers are extremely comfortable and cheap.” his hat was off, which meant you could see the slight rise of his eyebrows, disbelief in his vision. “‘s long as they aren’t johnny’s.” you took a while to answer that, instead dropping your pillow on couch and making yourself comfy, taking out the blanket he tucked away in a box underneath. “‘m not dignifying that with a response.” a small smile tugged at his lips, fond affection spreading slowly. he turned his desk lamp away from you so the harsh glare was no longer in your eyes. “g’night, sweetheart.” you closed your eyes. “night, cap.”

it was way too early in the morning for someone to be bothering you on your day off. you felt a presence standing over you and groaned, hand reaching out to push him away. “go back to sleep, sweetheart. was jus’ sayin’ bye.” your hand landed on his bicep, tugging him down to crouch before you. blearily, you opened one eye, watching the movement of your hand travel to his neck, wrapping around the strands with his hair. he understood you immediately, moving closer til your foreheads touched. you sighed on contact, his smell of cigars and pine seeping into your skin. “got to go, baby. i’ll lock the door so y’ can sleep ‘s long as you want.” you whined a little, then acquiesced with a nod. “‘m not sleepin’ with johnny.” he let out a big sigh. “i know.” you were both silent for a bit, breathing in each other’s presence. for a second, you could imagine it was under different circumstances. with no ranks between you and only lazy sundays like this. instead, you dropped your hand and he rose up, pinching your hip in goodbye.

“y’r not goin’. it’s a suicide mission.” you huffed at his attitude, crossing your arms over your chest so he couldn’t see your hands trembling. “but it’s made for my skills, cap. why else would they assign it to the team?” you looked to the rest of your task force around the room, making eye contact with them individually. “anyone?” gaz tried to speak and you shut him up with a look, already knowing he was going to take his captain’s side. johnny was oddly silent, eyes tracing patterns on the floor. “captain’s right. ‘s yer death if y’ go.” ghost’s voice was low and gravelly in the silence of the room. that was it - overruled by your fellow lieutenant. with him on your captain’s side, you had no shot. “fine. i’ll just not do my job.” you avoided john’s gaze, instead staring a hole into the side of simon’s face. the idiot turned and faced you, cocking his head in silent argument.

i hate you

no you don’t

you’re wrong

you know i’m right

whatever. you’re still on my shit list.

the meeting ended and you beelined for the door. despite your fervent strides, john caught up with you, tugging you into the nearest room (your quarters), before you could run away. you unlocked the door without acknowledging him, letting him follow you into your sacred space and locking the door after him. “‘s for your safety, sweetheart.” you whipped around, pushing him into the door with a finger on his chest. “no, john, it’s for you. you not trusting me, not trusting my skills.” he grabbed your finger with his hand, dwarfing it in his rough warmth. “‘s not that i don’t trust you. i don’t want- i can’t see you killed.” somehow in the darkness of the room, you could see his eyes pleading, an unusual vulnerability for your captain.

“you can’t be this possessive and still not fuck me, captain.” you mocked him with his rank, pointing out the one big problem between you. “y’ know it’s more than fuckin’, sweetheart. woulda done it a while ago ‘f it was jus’ that.” oh. oh. you had guessed, slightly, but to hear him say it was…new. “next time, can you tell me that before going all caveman in front of the team?” his grip on your finger had loosened, his hand spreading out your own so he could link the two together. your palms were over his heart and you could feel its heavy beating calm slowly. “y’ didn’t know?” you shook your head, eyes focusing on the sight of your hands intertwined. your left hand to be specific, his fingers rubbing your ring finger absentmindedly. “don’t want t’ see you hurt because i care for you. and i don’t mind using my position t’ ensure it.” he leaned in, and for a heart stopping moment you thought he would kiss you. instead, he kissed your forehead, lips resting for a second. “we okay?” you nodded against him, feeling the scratch of his beard. “yeah, john, we’re okay.”

john was two seconds away from tugging you off the dance floor, ripping off the scrap of fabric you wore, and taking you in front of the entire club. you had begged the team to go clubbing after the mission, and with gaz and johnny on your side, your prayers were answered. you’d found the perfect thing to wear in a local shop - a scrap of a dress in your favorite color that showed off almost all of your skin. of course, you’d done shots with gaz and johnny, and now the three of you were on the dance floor, dancing the night away. “gonna break that glass, captain.” ghost nodded towards the tight grip price had on his whiskey, knuckles white and strained. he loosened slightly at his lieutenant’s words, gaze never leaving your figure. “fuckin’ hell.” ghost muttered, tracking the figure of his captain’s obsession. johnny had joined you from the back and gaz from the front, the three of you grinding like there was no tomorrow. johnny’s fingers gripped your waist while kyle’s brushed your shoulders, occasionally running up and down your arms. “cap-“ but he was already moving, glass empty and dropped on the table as price made his way to the dance floor.

“‘m cutting in.” your captain peeled his two sergeants off you, sending them scampering and snickering with a glare. “didn’t know you danced, john.” he didn’t, just stood unmoving with arms akimbo and possessiveness flaring in his eyes. “come on.” you grabbed his arm and dragged him through the crowd, finding a dark corner for the two of you, away from the team. “took you long enough to come get me.” you giggled. he raised an eyebrow, resting his hands on your waist as you swayed to the beat of the music. “y’ sayin’ that was all for me?” you nodded, biting your lip in anticipation. instead of replying, he flipped you around, tugging you into him until there was no space between you. you started grinding, not the false imitation of what you were doing with johnny and kyle, letting the beat move your hips. “a worse man might take advantage of you, darlin’. so pretty an’ willing f’ me.” he was right next to your ear, beard scraping your soft skin.

“doesn’t make you worse, john. it makes you human.” huh. he’d never thought of it that way, that he was just a man instead of a captain. he contemplated it, that gray area, as you moved one of his hands from your waist to your lower stomach, pressing it above your core. “‘s not taking advantage, john. i’m not drunk, just tipsy.” he pressed harder against you, drawing out a moan in the darkness as you felt that familiar coil of arousal. you could feel the outline of his cock through his jeans, the thin material of your dress barely a barrier. “don’t want our first time to be in a filthy club bathroom, baby. when i fuck you, i’m goin’ to take my time.” he grinded his palm into you, noting the hitch in your breath as he found your cunt, hidden behind two layers of fabric. it was building up, your nipples hardening and scraping against your dress. he was rock hard now, hips loose and all yours. you couldn’t quell that one voice in the back of your mind, though. “will it- will it just be once? when you fuck me?” he shook his head, spinning you around until your back was to a wall, your captain pinning your hands up and looking down at you with a hungry gaze. his hips were still pressed into yours, cock rubbing against your cunt. “y’ gonna get it through your head. you’re mine and i’m yours.” his eyes were searching yours for confirmation that he hadn’t been grasping at straws. you nodded quickly, wrapping a leg around his waist and tugging him closer. “mine. yours. when are you gonna kiss me, john?” you whined that last part, turning on your biggest puppy dog eyes. he almost growled at it, you so helpless under him. the invisible limits he had on himself, on a relationship between a captain and lieutenant, broke easily under your heady gaze. he leaned in slowly, cupping your jaw and running his thumb over your lips. and finally, finally, he kissed you.

it was slow and soft and john, the taste of whiskey rushing through your mouth. you were in a bubble, tugging your pinned hands out of his grip so you could pull him closer. his hips slotted further into yours but his lips told a softer story, biting and licking, exploring yours. you never wanted to stop, content to lie here forever and never let him go. “y’ taste like my dreams, sweetheart.” he whispered, just for you. he tasted like your future.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 6 ] || [ Chapter 8 ]

Pairing: Price x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.8K~ cw: SMUT, SMUT, SMUT. oral (m!receiving). sex (protected). Unspecified age gap. John is a little selfish. Also: the boys aren't very happy. Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: tried my best to keep the smut as gender neutral as possible!

Chapter 7: Getting Laid!!

Last night, you and John stumbled in the door of your flat with your lips pressed together.

You swore that was something only happened in romcoms, when the main character and her rival/best-friend/ex/a stranger met at the bar, got drunk, and somehow stumbled in the door and did it right on the kitchen table or whatever.

Nope.

Nope. It happened.

He had his arms wrapped around your torso, one snugly around your hip/lower waist, the other running up over your spine, with his hand sinking into your hair.

He tossed his foot back, knocking the door closed with a donkey kick as your hands struggled to untuck his stupid maroon button-up.

Instead of fumbling with the buttons, he ripped it off himself, a few of the buttons popping off and being sent flying around the room. He shrugged it off himself before guiding you over the living room sofa.

The flat was a mess, you had tried to tell him, because you weren’t expecting to bring him (or anyone, ever) back here. But that wasn’t a concern at that moment.

John fell on top of you on the couch, his hands already ripping your shirt off and throwing it somewhere it wouldn’t get in the way (you’d come to find it behind your flatscreen tv).

His fingers kneaded and caressed your torso, squeezing at your waist as his mouth slide away from yours, over your jaw, and down to your neck, biting down onto it and sucking at the skin like it was his to mark.

Your hands found the back of his white crewneck and you pulled it off, momentarily getting him tangled in it, before you tossed it on the floor. 

You barely had a moment to feast your eyes on the sight of his bare torso before he was slipping your boots off and then dragging your jeans off your legs… Like a rabid animal, primal and hungry. 

You caught glimpses of his figure as he raised your leg and peppered kisses from your ankle, wet tongue jotting out to lick up your thigh toward your underwear.

He’s strong but soft, the owner of large pecks and a warm belly, both covered in thick, dark, coarse hair, that disappear in a happy trail under his jeans.

You pull his face toward yours, locking your lips into a deep kiss again, your tongues finding each other as he holds himself up over you. Pulling away from the kiss, you looked at him. “Flip over…” You whispered.

He didn’t need to be told twice, grabbing you around the waist again and hurling you up as he shifted to sit down on the couch, thighs spread to accommodate the growing bulge in his jeans.

You knelt between his legs, nimble fingers undoing his belt and immediately tugging the dark fabric away from his thick thighs. He groaned in relief as he watched you struggle with his boots for a moment before you succeeded in getting it all off him.

His hand palmed at his hardened cock, eyelids droopy as your hands ran up his legs, feeling the hair in them, and sometimes catching the little bumps and scars of past injuries, some of them discreet, some of them obvious and particularly gnarly. Some of them could rival some of his Simon’s.

You tugged down his boxers briefs, allowing his cock to spring free. It’s uncut, long and decently thick, and his hair is neatly trimmed. The head peeks out just a bit, showing how red and angry it is, the whole length throbbing, needy for your touch.

Your eyes locked onto his, spotting that it wasn’t just his cock that was needy. He looked at you like a starved man about to have a meal. Barely restrained, his jaw clenched, fists tightened shut, the muscles on his thighs taut with anticipation.

You ran your tongue over your palm before wrapping it around his cock, hearing him hiss and throw his head back as you started stroking it. Your other hand slowly, carefully, pulled back the hood of his cock before you wrapped your lips and tongue around it, gingerly sliding it further into your mouth.

You could’ve sworn John was going to have an aneurysm. “Fuckin’ hell… That’s it…” He grunted and huffed consecutively as he tensed up a bit, bucking his hips upward to meet your mouth.

“F-Fuck… That’s it…” He grumbled under his breath as he looked down at you. John had been with plenty of people, but something about the way you looked on your knees with his cock steadily slipping down your throat, got him in a way no one else did.

“Jesus… Fuckin’... Christ…” He dipped his head back as your tongue drew circles around him before you swallowed him deeper, breathing steadily through your nose so as to not choke.

“God… Been… B-Been a while since I got… Christ-” He grunted again, one hand shooting up to grip the back of your neck as he slowly rocked his cock into your mouth, beads of precum drooling over your tongue.

“C’mere.” He demanded as he pulled you back from his cock and up to your feet. He grabbed hold of his jeans from the floor, in search of his wallet and pulled out a whole sheet of condoms which was folded neatly inside, He stuck them between his lips before he stood.

Grabbing hold of you, he walked you across your flat, making use of the sitting room lights to navigate the hall into the bedroom, and dropped you onto your bed. He tossed the condoms aside and his lips crashed into yours, lips parted so that your tongues found each other.

His hands grabbed hold of your underwear and tugged it off, sending it flying across the room while he grabbed hold of the condoms and ripped off one, rough fingers search struggling to open the foil, before he finally succeeded and slipped it on.

“You good?” He checked on you, eyes locked on yours as he slotted himself between your legs, kneeling in front of you and adjusting you to fit him. One leg wrapped around his waist, the other over the bend of his elbow to keep you spread open for him.

“Yeah.” You replied, immediately feeling him rub the leaking head of his cock against your entrance, allowing the lube of the condom to lubricate you just a bit.

It had been ages since you had last gotten laid, a miserable consequence of your ex-boyfriend, Ethan, and one of the main reasons you had broken up. Sex with him, much like your relationship, was dead and unfulfilling.

You felt John push his way inside, slotting himself in the warmth and snugness of your body as you squealed, your head falling back onto the bed. He grunted some incoherent praise, or what you assume was praise, his fingers digging into the extra fat on your legs to keep him steady enough.

He leaned over you, one closed fist on either side of your head, curling you onto yourself and allowing him easier access to thrust into you. Slow, torturously slowly, his cock stretching you and forcing you to accomodate him.

“Fuckin’ hell… So fuckin’ good…” He groaned, eyes closing and mouth falling open as he threw his hips down against yours. It was slow and considerate, but the way he huffed and grunted told you it was already too much for him.

But John was a man of focus. He uncurled his fists in order to grip your bed covers and squeeze them tight as his hips bounced off yours, his weeping girth always burying itself to the hilt before he pulled back again, making sure to bottom out every time.

You whimpered and moaned, eyes screwed closed and a shiver running down your spine every time the bouncy cock plunged into you, the upward tilt of it making sure to drag dangerously slowly across the one spot in your body that caused your mind to go blank, stars prickling in the corners of your eyes.

“F-Fuck… John…” You sighed as he kept the torturously slow pace, somehow driving you crazy just as much as he would while pounding you into oblivion.

“Yeah… that’s it. Moan my name, love.” He ordered as he leaned closer.

“J-John…” You cried out softly as his hips stuttered lightly, causing him to bury himself deep twice in a row.

“I know, darling. I know.” He grumbled. “You haven’t gotten properly shagged in a while, have you?” He taunted a bit. “Haven’t either, sweet thing…” He added.

His hands grabbed your jaw on either side, his thumbs hooked onto your cheeks, the remaining fingers slipping under and around your ears, nails digging lightly into your scalp.

“I’ll make sure to make it last as long as possible, hm?” He added as he kissed at your lips, sucking your bottom lip between his lightly.

-

John was in a much better mood when he sat down for breakfast at the mess hall with Ghost, Gaz and Soap. He actually greeted them with a ‘Good morning’, his tray was piled high with food and his hair was wet from a recent shower.

The other three were looking at him with raised brows and intrigued glances, even if Ghost was trying to be discreet about them. They could read between the lines to know he had gotten lucky with you the night before, so they didn’t need to ask questions they knew the answers to.

Instead, they exchanged glances and kept eating their breakfasts… All except for Simon, who was simply drinkin a cup of breakfast tea.

“I don’t think it’s fair.” Soap ended up saying as Price was halfway through shoveling a hash brown into his mouth.

“What isn’t, Soap?” Price asked, eyes narrowed in confusion, and brows scrunched.

“We all matched ‘em on Tinder and didn’t get more than a ‘I’ll think about meetin’ up with you’.” The younger sergeant explained halfway through chewing his bite of sausage. “You meet with ‘em, get a shag… And we did all the work for it.” He added. “But when it comes to us ourselves, they don’t want us.” He complained.

“What are we gonna do?” Gaz complained. “Maybe they just like older men…” He said with a shrug. “Sucks but there’s other people out there.” He adds while drinking his orange juice.

“Are you seriously going to call dibs on the fact you saw ‘em before Price?” Ghost said in surprise.

“I’m just saying!” Soap grunted and shoveled some more scrambled eggs into his mouth.

“Learn to take rejection with class, MacTavish. It’s going to happen to you more and more often as you get older.” Ghost quipped.

“Awa' an' bile yer heid!” Soap scoffed and flipped the middle finger at Ghost.

Meanwhile, the Captain was giving them all a look, while staying silent, seeming amused by their antics and a little by their jealousy. He could tell that despite the fact Gaz and Ghost had disagreed with Soap, their eyebrows were also furrowed in contemplation.

So, he simply turned off to the side and drank from his own tea with a smug smirk on his lips.

taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @zombie-freak , @wittleespur , @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago

[lostintransist]

Broken Beyond Bearing | Part 5

-. —- / .-. . -.-. —- .-. -.. … / . -..- .. … - / ..-. —- .-. / …. . .-.

Part 1 found here | AO3

Simon’s rut had finished in due course, leaving everyone a little worse for wear but recharged emotionally. Johnny spent every moment not pinned to a mattress, keening, with you. He couldn’t quite tell how it was working. Each time he emerged from their room and daylight still touched their mountain you could be found outside.

Bundled up in the shawl he had picked up for you and the winter supplies everyone else had pitched in for, you seemed to be making friends with the crows. Johnny would dress for the weather and join you often sitting in silence broken by caws. Each time he sat you allowed him a little closer than the time before.

You befriended the crows; he courted you.

In passing times he coordinated with John about making sure you would be set for when they returned to missions. You would need a phone, a computer, a card to access the joint bank account, sign-in information for the local grocery store for deliveries and any other number of things. Everything that needed to be delivered would arrive before they left.

The day Simon’s rut finally broke Johnny showered quickly and found you on the back porch, setting the cashews out that no one had cared to find in the back of the cupboard.

“Care to walk with me?” Johnny smiled brightly at you despite struggling to see with the bright snow blazing into his eyes.

You narrowed your eyes at him before agreeing with a nod.

“Let’s not track snow in through the house, have you explored beyond the deck yet?” Johnny offers you an elbow.

The hard stare you pin him with reminds him of the feeling before a bomb blows.

“Just an elbow ya bonnie moves to and fro and not much else,” he shifted it to prove his point.

The laugh you let out comes through your nose, but you take his offer. Silence only found in a forest coated in snow is broken only by the crunching of boots. Johnny walks you around the house and down the drive. Nearly ten minutes pass in companionable silence before you speak up.

“Why a wife?”

“Mmm?” Johnny glances at you. He had been lost in his thoughts about well he didn’t really need to jump back into those thoughts right now, they involved his lips being in places they had not been invited…yet.

“Kate called me a wife. Why a wife and not pack?” Your lips are pursed as you ask.

Johnny tips his head as he thinks of how to reply. Seven more steps pass before he has an answer.

“Wife is an old word, not too common anymore. Its original meaning was a treasured one. It can still be listed in lieu of a designation on a lot of government forms. When Kate told John she had brought us a wife she told him that she brought someone we should treasure.”

You slowed to a stop, confusion and a waft of fear-laced want lifted into the air from your neck. Johnny held down the urge to lift a wrist to his nose to pull the scent in deeper. Even the sour, off notes to the want couldn’t disguise the heady pull of it.

He did, however, lift his hand from his warm pocket to press it to your cheek. Watching your eyes drift close and lips part at the touch sent a frenzy off in his body. That moment got him through a lot of rough spots after they shipped off.

Johnny thought about it now, that sweet moment where you began to understand they would care for you because you were their wife, as he aimed the truck up the drive. When the cabin finally came into sight in the bright, cold sunshine he couldn’t prevent his sigh. Three weeks home with you, while he recovered from a bad concussion, would be a blessed chance to woo you.

Parked neatly under the front porch, Johnny grabbed his bag and headed for the stairs. At least two storms’ worth of snow had settled on each step. Odd, but it’s not like you were expecting visitors. Clomping up the stairs to alert you to his presence, Johnny turned the door handle and sucked in a deep breath to call out.

Only stale air met his nose.

Stale. Cold. Air.

He hadn’t driven with a gun on his thigh but Johnny always traveled with a blade at his ankle. It appeared in his hand as he cleared the house. Each room that came up empty, no signs of a struggle, ratcheted up his concern. The back porch being covered in untouched snow told him you were gone.

Missing.

Stolen?

The knife slid home in its ankle holster, Johnny ran back to the truck and turned it around, heading into town. If you had any issues that is where you would most likely be. None of them had any voicemails when they turned their phones back on after a grueling mission.

“Old MacDonald had a farm, eieio!” You sing out in your loudest volume.

Thirteen days trapped in this tiny cell at the sheriff’s office had given you a lot of time to work out a good outlet for your anger at being contained. Laying across the thin mattress projecting your voice into the cement box at least gave you something to do.

“And on that farm, he had a pig, eieio!”

Seven weeks alone after a lifetime of being surrounded by betas had driven you a smidge wilder than Scorpio left you. Thankfully one thing Scorpio had taught you was how to get over your shyness of peeing while being watched.

“With a ‘you have the right to remain silent’ here and a ‘anything you say can and will be used against you’ ther—”

Something slammed into the bars. Letting your head loll to the side you looked at the young alpha deputy, with black hair and tattoos peeking above his collar, who stared at you with wild eyes and a snarl to rival a lion. Too bad for him you were a fucking badger.

“Do you have to keep singing?”

Catching his eye, you took a deep breath.

“Twinkle, twinkle little fuck. Being cops must really suck.”

This twisted version of the song belted out louder than Old MacDonald did.

Deputy Tweedle Dee hit the bars again and yelled toward the desks.

“Any word on those military guys up the canyon? I might kill her if she keeps up the singing.”

“Promises, promises officer!” You shout after him, cackling at the whine of distress he let out.

Damn, you really needed to see people more. A few weeks with only the crows to talk to and you started to lose it.

A commotion beyond the edge of your hearing cut through your song.

“Where is my wife!?”

The roar had you sitting upright, snow boots clunking against the floor.

They might have abandoned you and not answered their phones when the food deliveries stopped but you knew your new keepers would object to you being gone.

“Now sir, you can’t barge in her—”

That was the receptionist. Bit of a bitch but she didn’t antagonize you like the deputy did at least.

Deputy Tweedle Dee reappeared from the edge of the cell, collar pulled tight by a hand lightly covered in hair pushed him forward. The tattoo insignia came next and there he was, Johnny. His sharp blue eyes scoured you, tension around his eyes easing at seeing you physically well. The angry glare returns as he shifts his attention back to the deputy.

You didn’t know what to call him; you didn’t have a companion word for wife. You had forgotten to look it up until now.

Johnny shook the deputy. You smirked as his head bobbled.

“Let her out. Now.”

“No, I can—”

The deputy’s words were cut off with his air as Johnny twisted the shirt around his hand.

“Now.”

The menace in his voice pairs neatly with the scent of rage and vitality lifting off Johnny now.

The deputy pulls the key from his belt and opens the cell you had been trapped in. You stand and cross to the exit.

“Deputy Fuck-up,” you snark as you pass the men.

Hate flares in his eyes as Johnny lets him go. The hand that choked a man settles against your back, heat flashing through your shirt. They hadn’t given you back your coat after they threw you into lockup. The thin blanket provided did nothing to fight back the chill of the snow and concrete.

Your beta preens at Johnny’s touch. The burn of his anger in your nose has her crying out to soothe him. She will hush if you ignore her, she always has before. Walking back through the precinct you can’t help but flip off the old sheriff who is standing up behind his desk in the glass-walled office.

He hustles around his desk, hollering into the room. The ruddy red of his cheeks slinks down his neck as he gets closer. He would like Santa with his white hair if not for the short trimmed beard instead of a long bushy one.

“Now, young man! You cannot take that beta!”

“Go out to the truck please, wife,” Johnny murmured down to you as he laid a kiss to your temple.

“I need my shawl,” you inform him.

Johnny looks at you, all light disappearing from his blue eyes.

“They took it?” Frost would have puffed off his breath if the heater hadn’t kicked in then, the hum filling the space.

You nod once, eyes not leaving him as the sheriff steps up to speak to Johnny. The one who calls you wife ignored the blustering man as he shrugged off his own coat and settled it on your shoulders. His touch lingers at the zipper, scent of burning and a hint of disaster in his scent. Turning from the oncoming storm you leave the building that had jailed you. The truck is unlocked when you reach it.

Opening the passenger door you gag and physically recoil. The stench of fear and panic billows out like smoke from a broken window. Pinching your nose closed and sipping in air through your mouth you open every door of the truck despite the cold biting at your skin.

“Damn, I didn’t realize he might actually care,” you mutter, tone nasally.

Nearing five minutes later Johnny pushes through the glass doors, your shawl in hand. At his appearance, you step from the driver’s seat where you had waited and close the back doors as you work your way around to the passenger seat. Johnny climbs behind the wheel and passes your shawl over. You let it rest in your lap, running your hands over it as he begins the drive back to the cabin.

Halfway through the silent drive, he speaks.

“What the hell happened?”

Struck as if by lightning you can’t prevent but biting back.

“The fuck do you mean? What the hell happened to being someone you treasure? The food deliveries stopped two weeks ago and I couldn’t reach anyone. What was I supposed to do but walk my happy ass to town?”

Johnny glances at you from the side of his vision.

“Why not drive?”

“You really need to talk to Kate about the fuckery I went through before you make assumptions,” you growl at him, fingers digging into the plushness of your shawl.

“Interestin’,” he drawls in his accent.

“What is?” you snap

“You weren’t this feisty when we left.”

He says it as if it is an interesting animal fact and not the trait that kept you alive and assured your demise rising to the surface again.

Snapping your teeth closed you cross your arms and stare at your boots. The remainder of the drive is silent. You ignore every drifting scent coming from Johnny, unwilling to engage in any way.

Broken Masterlist | Masterlist

@lucienofthelakes @gg-trini @talia-the-gemini @thriving-n-jiving @z-wantstowrite @asialovesyou09 @literallegendicon @canthavetoomuchchaos @reinekoya @jsptmoche @demothers-empty-blog @hbaasaad @sun-daddy-yoriichi @wiciclesatmidnight @kaoyamamegami @little-mini-me-world @corvid007 @skeletonsucker @feyresqueen @dreamland08

[xyziiix]

𝘛𝘏𝘙𝘌𝘌 𝘐𝘚 𝘈 𝘊𝘙𝘖𝘞𝘋 ~ 𝘑.𝘗 & 𝘚.𝘙

PAIRINGS: Captain John Price X Female!Reader X Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

WARNINGS: SMUT - this is pure porn u guys - MMF threesome, unprotected P in V (wrap it please for the love of god) spanking, ROUGH GHOST, Price being an arsehole, being fucked over a desk, Eiffel Tower 😏, oral (m!receiving), creampie, kinda degrading.

A/N: I heard your pleas you little horndogs. You ask and you shall receive. (Sorry it’s a lil rushed and — surprise surprise, not proof read yet)

[could be read as a part 2 to ARDOUR, could also be read by itself)

It was Price that had noticed it first.

Of course he had. He was regardful. Observant.

He noticed it first a few days after you’d returned to base from Urizakstan. The way the Lieutenant’s eyes would linger on you when you were talking or just suddenly appeared — breathing life into the room, as you usually did. And it wasn’t just in a way one would be respectably paying attention to someone whilst they were speaking or doing something to gather their attention — No. it was the way his eyes — ones that always seemed devoid of emotion — would follow your body when you moved around, would watch you like a predator stalking it’s prey. Price recognised the look in his eyes.

Because that’s how he also looked at you.

While the situation you and Price were in was… delicate — and would definitely rouse misplaced reactions by the people in your place of work — he thought the idea of another man looking at you the way Ghost did would’ve angered him. Made him jealous. Irrational.

But for some reason it didn’t irk him as he thought it would.

And it wasn’t long after that he figured out Simon knew about you two. Perhaps the way Ghost seemed to be more observant and more silent than usual when the two of you were normally interacting with each other in front of the task force — keeping it strictly professional while you weren’t in the privacy with only each other. So that’s how Price figured he knew. Why would he be acting odd — even more than usual — about the two of you simply talking in the same room as everyone? It was like he knew a secret, a dirty secret.

Turns out he did.

In that battered down, sad excuse of a safe house in the Urzikstan dessert, it turns out not everyone was asleep that night while your Captain decided to fuck you.

You two had hidden it well — he’d give you both credit for that — so it was safe to say it had genuinely surprised him when he saw the sight in front of him that night. He was careful. Quiet. Like a ghost. Sticking to the shadows and moving silently — which was very surprising considering the Lieutenant’s looming height.

He had heard the noises — your noises — and it was obvious they were trying to be muffled. At first, he’d immediately thought of danger, that’s why he had been cautious to approach instead of just bursting into the room.

He remembers the feeling of his chest tightening in realisation when he saw what he saw. Price’s back was to Ghost — laying on his side on the ground. He couldn’t get a good look at your face, but he could see the glow of perspiration from the moonlight shining through the thin glass pane window and onto the dewy skin of your bare leg draped over Price’s thigh. Even just the silver of soft skin and the sound of your singing being trapped into the Captain’s palm had Simon hard, his pants tightening in his groin area — other than that he remained completely silent, even his breathing seemed nonexistent as he just watched the two of you. He didn’t even touch himself either, just watched. Like he thought if he looked away for a moment then the image of you like this would be gone.

But now it had been burned into his memory. The sounds you made. The soft and supple flesh of your thigh. And even the way your dainty hand had grabbed onto Price’s arm when he made you come. He wondered if you’d make those noises for him — except he wouldn’t muffle them with his palm. No. He’d want you to let everything out, every scream, every cry, every wanton moan while he fucked you dumb with his cock.

Price had brought up his observation of the Lieutenant one night a few weeks later. Both of you basking in the afterglow of sex in your rooms in the barracks.

“Simon.” He started simply, and you had turned to look at him quizzically.

“What about him?”

“Think he knows.”

Somewhere between then and now, you had discussed the possibility of this. To say you were very surprised when Price was the one that suggested Simon fucking you was an understatement. It wasn’t that Price wanted to be sexual with Ghost — as sexy as that would’ve been to see — he liked the idea of watching him fuck you. He couldn’t explain why, but just something that had been brewing in the back of his mind.

You had told Price that he wouldn’t have wanted that — that he was a closed off person who was hard to read, how could John have possibly conjured up that assumption that Simon was attracted to you?

Well, your captain always liked proving you wrong.

Because here you were, bent over the expanse of John’s desk — the desk you’d already had the pleasant experience of being bent over, laid atop of, and sat underneath while you sucked his cock as he sat in the desk chair — only this time it was infact, Lieutenant Simon Riley plowing into you with his intimidatingly large cock.

His grip on your hips was borderline painful — but it hurt so good. You worried he may make the desk topple over with how hard he was thrusting into you. You’d never been this stretched open before — feeling the too much, too full feeling of his dick inside of you, the blunt head of his length kissing the plug of your cervix with each steady but strong buck of his hips.

The masked man’s gaze was set of the globes of your arse, how the flesh rippled when his hips met yours, how every time it did so he got a glimpse of your little puckered hole — fuck, he wanted to fuck you there as well. But, he didn’t want to push his luck just yet. The only noises to be heard in Price’s office was skin meeting skin, the sound of your small cries and whimpers of ecstasy. You tried to stay quiet, you really did, but it was rather pathetic — your moans eventually interjecting through the room.

That’s when Price had changed his mind about just watching you. He had been painfully hard the last 15 minutes from having watched you already come on Ghost’s cock, your eyes glassy and lips red raw from biting them as you gripped onto the table for dear life. You didn’t even register him standing in front of you until you heard the sound of metal teeth being zipped open as well as the buckle of his belt.

“Gotta keep you quiet, love.” He excused with a chuckle while sliding his cock between your lips.

You really did have to keep quiet. And though the door was locked anyone walking by would’ve heard you — being fucked by your lieutenant while your captain watched.

You tried to focus on hollowing your cheeks around John’s cock. But you were utterly cock drunk, already feeling another powerful orgasm building in the pit of you abdomen while Simon continued to fuck you. Price had obviously noticed you struggling — as the bastard seemed to notice everything, he’d smugly remind you — so he had gathered your hair, using it to lift your head up as he started to fervently fuck your throat.

If you thought you felt impossibly full then you were beyond stuffed now, your jaw slack as John fucked your face and your pussy stretched almost painfully wide around Simon’s cock.

Ghost let out a prolonged, raspy breath when he felt you squeezing his dick in a vice. And in return, one of his hands left your hips in order to collect both your wrists with his single, calloused palm, pining them to your lower back as he fucked you impossibly harder, his pace quickening a little. His other palm landing a smack to your sore asscheeks — a crack of palm meeting flesh sounding in the office.

“Look at you, eh?” Price spoke, his tone annoyingly steady despite your mouth gliding up and down his cock. “Being fucked by your superiors. What would everyone make of you?” He asked with a gruff chuckle — and obviously you couldn’t answer.

About several moments later you felt yourself tumbling into another fierce climax, all but crying around John’s cock as your abused cunt squeezed Simon pitifully — which rewarded you with another slap to your rear, the skin red raw.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Simon grunted lowly — that adding to the short list of words he’d actually spoken this whole time.

Your arse hurt, your wrists hurt, your jaw hurt — your fucking pussy hurt — but you didn’t want it to stop, ever.

John pulled his cock out of your mouth, his dick coated in a mix of saliva and precum. His hand still buried in your hair — keeping your head up. Your neck hurt as well.

“Such a good girl.” Price praised as he bent his knees a little to see your face better, a smug smile curling his lips at the tears staining your flushed cheeks. “He makin’ you feel good?” He asks, there’s an edge to his voice.

The Lieutenant — being so full of surprises tonight — pushes his hand under you. The rough pad of his thumb cruelly flicking your clit. Your body seizing forward, a sharp cry escaping your lips while Simon still held your wrists pinned behind you.

When your eyes had widened at the overstimulating sensation, John had mirror your expression — but mockingly. “You like being used like this don’t you?”

You could only moan in response — unable to form a coherent thought let alone sentence.

Price tapped your cheek, your eyes focusing back on his smug face. “Asked you a question, love.” He reminded you. Arsehole.

“Yeah-“ you managed to babble out, your words shaking in tandem with your body, John’s smile curled into a Cheshire Cat grin — his goatee lifting.

“Yeah, you do.” He repeated.

Neither men had lasted much long after that. Price had gone back to fucking your face while Simon was relentlessly pounding into you. Your third orgasm was — quite literally — breath taking, it felt like your skin was on fire, yet numb at the same time. You definitely couldn’t feel your legs. Ghost came first, burying himself all the way to the hilt before spilling hot ropes of come inside of you with a groan — so much that it leaked out of you in a dribble of pearly white, you had let out a pathetic whine when he pulled out — the empty feeling had you quivering around nothing.

Price came a few moments later, filling your mouth with his salty spend before you swallowed it all. It tickled your raw throat.

Ghost had left soon after, not that he was ignorant in checking up on you, but because he knew that wasn’t his place to do so — not yet anyway. He had helped you up from the desk though, soothing his hands up and down your waist before Price took over. He had shared a look with you — his eyes saying everything his mouth wouldn’t.

@tapioca-marzipan @kanyewestburnbook @darksxder @louve-barnes @emodanoriddler @imonmykneessir @nightingal3-tales @ghost-2513 @fruitymoonbeams-blog

I tagged the ppl who commented on ARDOUR, if your name isn’t in grey then it wouldn’t let me tag you x

Call Of Duty MW2 Masterlist

[pascallllllll1]

What led up to this post. Enjoy!

Johnny is desperate to have a turn with Simon’s pretty new birdy.

He’s been daydreaming about you ever since he’d caught sight of the down right filthy Polaroid you’d taken of yourself and given to Simon for while he was deployed.

It all started one day when Johnny had innocently peaked over Simon’s shoulder to see what the man was so laser focused on only to find him with one big meaty hand resting on his very prominently hard cock, the other holding a photo of the most delicious looking lass Johnny had ever seen.

From that point on he was a menace to say the least. Terrorizing Simon about who the woman in the photo was until he’d finally relented to Soap and told him about you. Only to see the Scott’s eyes light up. That’s when the begging and pleading started. Every. Damn. Day.

Finally after three separate missions, months worth of hearing about how well he’d treat you. Simon agreed to talk to you about the possibility of setting up a time for the both of you to meet.

Simon stressed to you that you didn’t have to do anything you weren’t comfortable with. That he would be present through the whole process and if anything came from it. He promised if when you met Johnny you had no interest in him or you didn’t feel comfortable pursuing anything physical that he’d send Johnny home and that would be the end of it.

After you wrapped your head around what exactly the man you loved was offering, you’d agreed to at least meet Johnny. Luckily for John MacTavish you ended up being very open to spending a night with him afterward. He has a sort of boyish charm that enraptured you immediately.

Which brings said man to now. The three of you walking down the hall to yours and Simon’s shared room. Johnny’s skin is practically itching at the thought of getting the ball rolling. Or more accurately, emptying his balls inside you as soon as physically possible. His eagerness and excitement already has you unbelievably wet.

Simon guides you to sit at the end of bed and nods to Johnny to join you.

“Three rules.” He says in a tone that has Johnny sitting up straighter at the lieutenant’s words.

“One and most important,” narrowing his eyes, “If she says stop or even remotely seems hesitant or uncomfortable, you get the hell away from her immediately.”

“Two. You do not cum inside her, you understand me? She’s my woman and that’s my privilege.”

“Three. If she doesn’t cum I’ll have your ass running laps around this building for the remainder on the night. I’ll make you regret ever thinking about touching her, clear?”

Viciously nodding his head Johnny gives an assured, yes sir.

“Good.” Simon hums in approval. He walks towards you and settles himself between your legs. His hands coming up to cradle your head and bringing his forehead to your own. “I love you.”

You bring your lips to Simon’s and return the words to him. He closes the hair width distance and begins kissing you passionately, his tongue fighting yours for dominance while laying you back into the mattress. His mouth travels down your chin to your neck where he continues to lick and suck all your sensitive spots. Slowly he begins peeling off the layers hiding your body from both men.

Simon massages your now bare chest with both hands. He gently sucks and releases each nipple before blowing air over the wet sensitive buds. Your eyes open with a moan, meeting Johnny’s. Silently you beckon him over and he crawls to the space beside Simon and dives down to claim your now available mouth. He’s a sloppier kisser than Simon is but you find yourself enjoying the action nonetheless while he tears his own clothing off.

Simon squeezes your thigh gently as he pulls himself away from you and settles himself comfortably at the end of the bed. His eyes never leave your body. He observes how Johnny immediately falls into the space between your legs and hikes them high up his torso. He watches as your ankle cross and lock his closest and most trusted friend’s naked body against yours.

You quickly learn Johnny is very vocal in bed. Moans, groans and whimpers fall from his mouth the moment it’s not occupied somewhere on you. His cock glides between your soaked folds, the leaking fat head of it rubbing against your clit just enough to have you gasping out his name over and over until he finally aims it at your twitching opening, filling you in one deep thrust of his hips.

It feels like all the airs being knocked out of your lungs. You scream out in pleasure as he picks up the pace and begins to fuck you harder.

“Fuck, fuck, fuckkkkkkkk.” Johnny is a babbling mess above you. Praising how good you feel while simultaneously thanking you repeatedly. Simon looks on proudly at what you’ve reduced this battle hardened and skilled killer of a man to.

“So fuckin’ good” Johnny whines.

Hardly five minutes in and he’s desperately trying not to embarrass himself by cumming too fast and disappointing not only you but his very generous friend who allowed him this chance to fuck his prized possession. Johnny feels like he’s a teenager again trying to last more than a few pumps before blowing his load. And of course Simon notices, being the highly observant man he is.

Simon grabs a hand full of hair, fingers digging into Johnny’s scalp painfully. “If you cum in her I’ll slit your fuckin’ throat while you’re still inside her solider.”

Johnny is straining to hold back his release. The veins on his throat popping out. But you feel like heaven, too god damn tight and squeezing the life out of his cock. Sweat runs down his chest and arms.

Simon’s words set something off within you. Something primal that even with another man’s cock filling you- stakes a claim that you are still his. It’s the final thing you needed to set off the building euphoria within you. With one more deep stroke, Johnny has you screaming out in pleasure as your peak comes hurtling through your shaking body.

“F-fuck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He whines.

Simon wraps his remaining arm not in use around Johnny’s torso. Aggressively pulling him out of you and down the bed. The interruption has you crying out, “noooo,” before Johnny’s face is shoved between your thighs.

He eagerly begins sucking on your clit and stuffing three thick fingers inside you, curling them just right as you ride out the remainder of your orgasm, suffocating the man with your legs wrapped tightly around his head in fear of him stopping.

Simon watches in sick satisfaction. What’s the fun in having such a pretty bird if you don’t share her with your best mate?

[siren-141]

45 with Ghost 🙏🏽🙏🏽

warnings: sex, a tiny bit of angst, hurt/comfort. have fun :) summer sleepover

roses - awaken I am

“Cheers,” everyone raised their glasses to the center of the table as Gaz spoke. “To the 141 and to my best friend for hosting this lovely dinner for us.”

Everyone clinked their glasses with one another, taking a sip of the crimson wine in the glass. The boys had just finished up a successful mission and had gotten back, and you couldn’t help but offer to host them for a night. After all, they deserved a nice home-cooked meal and some well-aged wine.

You looked around the table, smile only faltering when you met eyes with Simon. You knew things would be awkward when you had told your childhood best friend, Gaz, to tell his team about the dinner, but you figured you’d just have to get over it.

“Oh no John, you don’t have to get those,” you said, resting a hand on his shoulder above you. He had already taken his place in front of your sink, sleeves rolled up and ready to wash the dishes when you stopped him.

“Please, it’s the least I could do,” he said. Somehow you were able to talk him down, telling him it wasn’t even that many dishes and you’d grab them after everyone was gone. Moving back to the living room of your cozy apartment, he joined the rest of the men and put his jacket back on, gearing up to leave.

“Thank you so much lass, we really enjoyed the food and the company as always,” Johnny leaned down to give you a customary kiss on the cheek.

“It’s no problem at all, you’re all welcome any time,” and with that, the men all said their goodbyes and left. You sighed, locking the door behind them. It wasn’t that bad, you thought, It could have been worse.

Lighting a candle in the living room, you went back to the kitchen to start on the dishes. You got two plates in when you heard a knock on your door.

“Simon..?” you opened your door to be met with the large man, hands in his pockets and looking at the ground. “Did you forget something?”

“No, no. I just…wanted to talk, I guess.”

Welcome to worse.

You hesitantly let him in, watching as he sat on your all-too-familiar couch. Bringing the wine bottle back over, you sat down a few feet away from him, pouring some in each glass and handing it over to him.

–

A few hours had passed since Simon had come back. The two of you caught up after a few months of not talking, not really being in each other’s lives anymore. You talked about your jobs, about school. About relationships. That’s where it all went downhill.

“It was never gonna work out, Si,” you said, voice beginning to raise. You could already feel the tears begin to spring to your eyes.

“I tried,” he responded, pacing the room.

“You were always working-”

“They needed me at my job, I can’t exactly walk away whenever I want to, you know that.”

“I know that Simon, but I needed you too!”

It was silent for a while, both of you letting your words sink in. He brought his hand up to his face, grimacing and rubbing his eyes for a sense of clarity, trying to find the calm in this storm. When he turned around, he was met with a sight that made his heart drop. You were still sitting on your couch, glass of wine in one hand and your head in the other, facing the opposite direction. He saw your shoulders and back rise, and realized you had begun to cry.

Simon walked over, sitting back down next to you. He took the glass from your hand and set it gently on the table in front of you, and took your hand in his. He whispered your name, and you looked at him, a single tear running down your cheek as you tried to gain composure.

“Please don’t cry,” he said softly, thumb brushing the tear away. “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, almost smiling. “It’s fine. We’ve been over all of it already, we’re past it-”

He leaned in and connected his lips with yours in a soft kiss. He could feel you tense at first, but soon after you relaxed. When the two of you separated, he stayed close, lips almost touching yours still.

“Please. Let me make it up to you,” he spoke in a whisper, heart racing, hoping that he could just have one last chance with you. In that moment, he knew that there was a God as you nodded your head and leaned back in.

The second kiss was more passionate, months of heartbreak being poured into it. He cupped your face in his large hand, deepening the kiss. His tongue moved languidly across yours, missing the way your lips felt on his.

As he moved his hand to your waist to pull you closer, you whimpered into his mouth, and he pulled back. You were about to object when he stood up, guiding you up with him, and leading you to your bedroom.

The two of you stood in your room in silence as he slipped your dress over your head slowly, letting it fall to the ground as he kissed you again, backing you up until your knees hit the bed. You sat down on the edge, and he kneeled in front of you.

“I’ve missed you every day that we’ve been apart,” he breathed as he kissed your neck, trailing kisses down to your chest.

“Can barely concentrate,” he unclasped your bra with expertise, just like he used to all those months ago. He let it fall to the ground on top of your dress. He kissed the apex of your breast, hand squeezing at the other as he listened to your breath hitch.

“My head’s a mess when you’re in it,” he kissed down your stomach, hands squeezing at your waist. He gently pushed you to lay down, raising your hips to pull your tights down your legs and slip them off completely, kissing down your thighs and legs until he had shown your whole body the love he knew it deserved.

He rose from the ground, undressing himself, never breaking eye contact as you laid there, propped up on your elbows.

“Simon,” your soft voice rang in his ears; you were like a siren to him. You could have said anything from anywhere, and he’d abandon ship just to hear you again.

He crawled onto the bed, hovering over you as he placed a kiss on your forehead. His fingers trailed down until they met your core, and you opened your legs up willingly to him, missing his touch more than anything. He began to rub your clit in small, slow circles, already feeling the wetness accumulate on his fingers. Pushing two of his fingers in, he worked you open, swallowing your soft moans.

Gentle waves rolled over you as he brought you to your first climax. Nobody knew your body as well as him; he was able to make you cum with ease, remembering everything about you as if he had blueprints he had studied for ages.

“Please,” you breathed out. He repositioned himself, lining his thick cock up with your entrance, pushing to the hilt until he was fully sheathed inside you. Electricity sparked within you, his cock hitting all of your pleasure points that your toys had missed every time you used them in his absence. He groaned at your wet heat, stilling inside you as he refocused.

“Missed this,” he mumbled against your lips, pulling out and slowly pushing back in. “Feel so good wrapped around me, sweetheart.”

Simon set a slow but powerful pace, hips driving into you deep as you left light scratches along his back. Your room sounded of deep moans and whimpers, both of you having to break from your kiss every time he hit an especially sensitive spot.

“I love you, I never stopped. I never will.” He could feel you clench at his words as he let out another moan, his thrusts starting to move a little bit faster.

“Oh- Simon, baby-” you held him tighter, head thrown back as the pleasure shot up your spine. “Please, please, please…”

He could tell you were close, your pussy tightening around him as he had found just the right angle and pace. “Fuck, sweetheart, just like that- you’re takin’ me so well. Always been a good girl for me, yeah?”

You nodded your head, tears rolling down the sides of your face as you became overwhelmed with his admissions and pleasure. You gasped as he hit your sweet spot continuously, whining and writhing underneath him.

“There you go, I’ve got you. Cum f’me sweetheart, I’m right here,” his words shattered you, your vision going white as your back arched off the bed. “That’s it, go ahead love.”

Pleasure continued to ripple through you, blood rushing through your ears and white-hot ecstasy running through your veins as Simon continued his pace just as it was, just as you liked it. As soon as he saw you begin to come down from your high, his thrusts got sloppier, hips stuttering as he breathed out a fuck in that baritone voice of his. His eyes squeezed shut as he came deep inside you, pushing himself as deep as possible. He pumped himself in you a few more times as he came down himself, finally pulling out and rolling on side of you.

You both laid there for a while, waiting for your heavy breathing and racing hearts to calm down. He pulled you to the side of him, holding you close. You could hear his heartbeat return back to normal. The two of you stayed wrapped in each other’s arms for a couple of minutes.

Simon was the first to break the silence.

“I meant everything I said,” he said quietly, thumb rubbing circles onto your back.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” he hummed, placing a kiss on your forehead.

You both laid like that for what seemed like forever. He was just about to fall asleep, drift off into another world, when you turned onto your side and wrapped an arm around his torso.

“Love you too, Si,” you murmured, eyes already shut.

[thedovesaredying]

Flames of Green | CoD x GoT/HotD | Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader x John "Soap" MacTavish | Part 1.

Artwork by Elizabeth

You're the heir to the Iron Throne, the eldest child of the current king with the blood of the Targaryens flowing through your veins. Unfortunately, you're due to be married off to a mysterious Northern lord by the name of John MacTavish. At least your closest friend and member of your guard, Simon Riley, will be by your side throughout it all.

A/N: I'm back in my House of the Dragon era, so I'm mixing hyperfixations. The Cannibal doesn't get enough love, he's a nasty bastard and he deserves to cause some chaos. It will eventually be a Ghost x Reader x Soap relationship and likely a bit of a slowburn. Literally just for my own entertainment, but I hope y'all enjoy.

Warnings: None

Masterlist: CoD Masterlist

Next

It’s times like this that you mourn the loss of your youth. Forced to sit in silence while discussions are held by old men around a table, weighing up the advantages and disadvantages of your future marriage to every potential high lord in Westeros. Your opinion is never considered, let alone asked for by any of your father’s advisors, your compliance expected regardless.  

If you had been born a man you could have your pick of any woman in the kingdom to take as a wife, but instead, you’re forced to simply accept whatever man is placed in front of you. Such is the burden of being the princess and heir to House Targaryen. You will be made to give up the right to rule the kingdom to the high lord assigned to you, never to touch the ever-elusive Iron Throne that should have been yours by right.  

You had never really taken the prospect of marriage too seriously in your youth, always considering it a problem for the you of the future to deal with. You didn’t care to forge lasting alliances with other ladies and lords, too busy dragging your poor best friend, Simon, through the gardens and dirtying your extravagant dresses. 

But those days were over. 

Talk of wedding a powerful lord and bringing forth the next line of Targaryen children is all that fills your ears now. You’re forced to entertain every man, young and old, that wishes to gain your favour with a polite smile and feigned interest. You don’t even have your dear Simon to offer you his companionship and a break from the cruel realities of the world. No doubt he would have entertained you with his dry remarks about each man set before you.  

It has been years since you last saw Simon. He was taken from the Red Keep by his father and sent to squire for another lord in the hopes of teaching him the art of warfare. Lord Riley was a foul man, constantly berating his son for spending his time with the Princess rather than roughhousing with his fellow boys. He considered the boy too soft and squeamish at the sight of blood to make a good future lord of their keep.  

You disagreed, of course, Simon was perfect just the way he was; gentle and kind to all those around him. Your friend couldn’t hurt a fly, but he was still one of the bravest people you knew.  

You dread to think just how much he would have hated being drawn into battles, forced to kill other men with his own hands. The letters he occasionally wrote to you always steered clear of depicting the violence you were certain he must have been subjected to, but you’re far from naive enough to hope he has yet to participate in any bloodshed. As the years dragged on, word from him has grown scarce, however, to the point where you can hardly remember when you heard from him last.  

What you do know, is that he had been sent to offer assistance in maintaining peace throughout the Stepstones, killing raiders and pirates that would endanger trade routes to King’s Landing.  

But that was almost six months ago, and there has been little else to soothe your vexed nerves over his safety. He had made a promise to you the day he left, that once his training was done he would return to your side, this time as a knight who would offer himself to your Queen’s Guard once the time was right. Never again would he leave you, more than happy to forfeit the ruling of his own homeland if it meant he could keep you safe.  

You had clung to that promise every day for years after his departure, but with each passing moment it become harder to hold out hope of seeing him again. After all, what is one promise between children in the grand scheme of things?  

It’s a blessing when you’re finally relieved from the meeting, escaping from the suffocating air within the council chambers and fleeing to the safety of your room. You don’t even pause to ensure one of your guards is following you, getting straight to stripping from your dress and replacing it with your riding gear.  

As the carriage carries you away from the city and toward the Dragon Pit your nerves begin to settle. The constant odour of sweat and excrement quickly gives way to fresh air the further away you get. It’s a beautiful day, with hardly a cloud in the sky and wildflowers blooming all along the road. It’s a genuine shame that your day has started so poorly, otherwise you’d have loved to wander the palace gardens and enjoy the midday sun.  

The ground is rocky outside of the dragon pit, and you’re jostled around a bit until the carriage comes to a stop. Although this is your destination, the dragon you seek is not here. Your dragon is far too large to be housed within the Pit.  

Unlike your younger sister, you were not blessed by the Gods to have your dragon egg hatch while you were in the cradle. All throughout your childhood you sat next to it and prayed for the hatchling to come forth, promising you would care for the creature and love it more than anything. But the baby dragon never arrived.  

Many said that it was a sign from the Gods, that you were unfit to be the heir if even your own dragon refused to hatch for you. It was a heavy sentence hanging around your neck, weighing you down and making you feel as though you are worthless, despite the fact you have more power than most of the people laughing at your situation.  

None of them are laughing now.  

You see your dragon stretched out atop one of the nearby ridges. He’s so large that his wings and tail drape over the edge of the rocks, entirely unconcerned by the humans fearfully gathered beneath him as he snoozes away in the warmth of the sun. His scales are like coal, absorbing every ray of sunshine that he can.  

The Cannibal may not be as large as Vhagar, but he’s far older and, as many would argue, far meaner than the old girl. Where most dragons have vibrant, golden eyes, you’re greeted by a pair of sinister green the moment you draw near. His go-to reaction to most things is aggression, and you’ve seen many people meet their end in a blast of emerald flame for merely disturbing him.  

It’s for that precise reason you’re stunned to see someone standing beside the grumpy old beast. There’s only one person other than yourself who could get anywhere near the Cannibal without immediately being swallowed whole. The man pauses his rubbing of your dragon’s scales the moment he sees you, only to earn a displeased whack from the Cannibal’s snout. You bite your lip to force down the grin that’s threatening to spread across your face when the man drops down to one knee, his head bowed respectfully.  

“Lord Riley,” you nod, “I do believe that’s my dragon you’re touching.” That earns a groan from the Cannibal, his massive head twisting away from you both, as though already bored of the conversation.  

“A thousand apologies, princess,” Simon grins, his eyes sparkling with mirth, “your dragon was growing impatient.” The dragon in question huffs, his tail twitching like an agitated cat.  

Simon looks so different from the last time you saw him. He’s both taller and broader, completely filled out with muscles. When he stands again, you’re face to face with the rather intimidating bone mask adorning his face. You’re not certain if it’s real bone, but at that moment you could have cared less, throwing yourself at the large man.  

He catches you easily, holding you tightly against his larger body. It’s entirely improper and if anyone other than your guards witnessed such an interaction there would no doubt be whispers abound. Perhaps it’s a good thing Simon decided to meet you somewhere so private.  

“When did you get back?” you ask, leaning back just long enough to look him in the eye.  

“We docked late last night,” he answers, and you can feel the way his chest rumbles with each word. His deep voice soothes something within you, your stress dissipating like mist at dawn. “We received word that the King’s Guard now has an open position,” he continues, and then much to your shock adds, “I’m here to fill that position.”  

You pull away from him almost completely, only your hands still gently curled around his gauntlets, “but I heard that your father was recently taken ill, don’t you need to return home?”  

While the mask hides the majority of Simon’s face, you can still see the way the skin around his eyes crinkles slightly, “I made a promise to serve my future Queen,” he takes your hand from his arm and presses the back of your palm to where his lips are beneath his mask, “if you’ll have me, princess.”  

You can feel your face burning with the intensity with which Simon stares at you. “I’m certain my father will be delighted to have such a well-regarded warrior in his service,” you smile, gently pulling your hands away from the knight, despite the urge to keep holding onto him.  

Before you can continue the conversation, the Cannibal turns his head back to your again, nudging at you with an irritated huff. His breath is scalding against your skin, yet it doesn’t burn you, thankfully. You place your hand against the beast’s snout, feeling the thick scales shift under your leather gloves. “Gīda,” you coo to the dragon, waiting until he lowers his wing to the floor to provide you with a way to climb onto his back. He’s far too large for you to mount the same way you would a younger dragon.  

Once settling into the Cannibal’s saddle, you grin down at your friend, “I look forward to seeing you in the keep, my lord.” You only have the time to see Simon’s quick nod, before your dragon is leaping from the edge of the ridge, forcing an end to your conversation. You can feel his clear exasperation through your bond and ensure to give the old dragon a scratch to the neck.  

[deathsimage]

Group “therapy” session

!! 18+ only !!

Haven’t really had time to write or post so sorry if this is messy, I’m way too exhausted to look over it but I wanted to post something so here we go. I hope you lot enjoy. 🫶🏻

Also too tired to add all the tags so feel free to tag more stuff

Warnings: sexual language and descriptions (all consensual)

Content: milking kink, group masturbation, cum shots, light bondage, m/m, strong language

Featuring: Captain John Price, Sergeant John Soap Mactavish, Lieutenant Simon Ghost Riley, Sergeant Kyle Gaz Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo Parra, Alex Echo Keller, Colonel König

Pairings: poly 141, AleRudy, GhostKonig, GazAlex, SoapPrice, GhostPrice, GazPrice, AlePrice, RudySoap (just a bunch of sluts tbh)

It began as a somewhat innocent- hah, yeah no…it began as an idiotic young male conversation like most things boys get into. Alex, Gaz, and Soap giggling and snickering as they tried to say who could last longer in bed. Somehow the conversation drug Ghost and Price into it, how Alex assumed they would last longest, seeing how they had such a sense of self control, while Gaz and Soap wouldn’t last a minute because they were, as Alex quoted, “whiney and breedable.”

Now it somehow ended up as a bet…but they still had to convince Price and Ghost to join the bet…

Price was surprisingly amused with the bet and decided he would join rather quickly. Ghost on the other hand…he only agreed when he was told he was the most probable to win so now he had something to prove. Now they had to get help.

Alejandro was a bit too excited to contribute, and Rudy was just happy to be involved. König didn’t know what to think, his mind practically shut down at the question of if he would help jerk off one of the 141 in an attempt to see who could last the longest before cumming.

It was in motion now. All four of the special task force men were tied at the wrists from the ceiling, each standing in just their boxer briefs with their arms suspended above their heads. Price was now beginning to wonder what the hell he had gotten himself into, and Ghost was just ready to prove he was the better amongst the rest of them. Soap, he was excited for completely different reasons. So was Gaz.

The other four men who weren’t standing half naked were discussing who they were going to ‘take’ for the challenge. Ending up with Alex refusing to let anyone else have Gaz, and König sheepishly requesting Ghost or Soap. Alejandro took the ‘big man’ being Price, with a smirk on his face as he winked at Price and gave his ass a slap. Rudy was happy to take Soap so that left König with his first choice of Ghost. Everyone was happy.

Alex pulled out a duffle bag, having the clear open ended masturbation sleeves, and vibrators.

“Hey that’s not fair!” Soap pouted, but his squirming just at the sight told a different story.

Each of the 141 was now being stripped of their boxers and stepping out of them. Alex immediately took Gaz into his mouth, seeming more eager than anyone there just to have a reason to fuck around with Gaz. Gaz threw his head back at the sensation of Alex taking his cock nearly completely down his throat. Soap looked over at Gaz with a smirk, biting his lip as Rudy spit in his hand and began to stroke Soaps cock, bringing a breathy whimper from Soaps lips. Alejandro pressed his thumb firmly against Prices tip, bringing a groan from Prices chest as Alejandro rubbed the precum over Prices slit. König sat kneeled in front of Ghost, looking up at him as if waiting for permission to touch him. Ghost simply looked down at König and gave a small nod, giving König the go ahead to touch him. König brought his hand up to Ghosts cock, his other hand moving his mask up above his nose to lick at Ghosts tip, making a deep breath escape his nose. Clearly Ghost was trying to hide his pleasure, but Königs kitten licks were something he wasn’t expecting.

Now that each member of the 141 was prepped and properly hard, the lube and toys came out. Alex grabbing a cock sleeve and stroking Gaz at a fairly quick pace, leaving his tongue out to lick at Gaz’s tip every time it was exposed. Rudy grabbed a sleeve and a vibrator for Soap, slowly shucking the sleeve up and down Soaps cock as he held the vibrator against him, making Soaps hips buck and his legs shake as his moans overtook the sound of the vibrator. Alejandro took a vibrator and rubbed it up and down the underside of Prices cock, his free hand massaging Prices balls.

“Mm, fuck-“ Price spit out as he arched his back, making Alejandro grin as if he had won something.

König wasn’t sure what to do…just looking up at Ghost with embarrassment.

“Do what feels natural. Don’t worry about what they’re doing..” Ghost reassured König. König nodded and took Ghost back into his mouth, sucking till his cheeks hallowed out, bringing a loud groan from Ghost that no one expected. König looked up at Ghost with his cock still sucked into his lips, beginning to bob his head as his large hands gripped Ghosts thighs.

Sounds of moans, vibrations, lewd wet slick smacking sounds, accompanied by cursing and groaning filled the room. It didn’t take long honestly, only about 10 minutes before the first loser came.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Rudy! Please!” Soap screamed. If it wasn’t for the restraints holding him up his knees would’ve given out long ago. Rudy moved the vibrator around to Soaps asshole so he could shuck the sleeve faster on Soaps cock, making his entire body shake and twitch as he climaxed, cumming so hard it splashed on Rudy’s face and dripped to the floor.

“First loser!” Alex chimed out while shucking the sleeve on Gaz’s cock. Rudy untied Soap and helped him regain his composure before taking him to go clean up, leaving the others to finish off their session.

Alejandro was sucking on Prices balls like his life depended on it, his hand still running the vibrator over Prices cock, pressing it against the tip, causing Price to groan and shake, standing on the tips of his toes as he arched his back and pulled against his restraints that were suspending him from the ceiling.

König looked up at Ghost and pulled back off of his cock. “May we…try something else Lieutenant?”

“Whatever you want to do is fine.” Ghost reassured him. This made König feel much more at ease about what he had in mind. König stood up and cut Ghosts restraints, letting his arms come down to his sides.

“Hey that’s not fa-AIR-“ Gaz tried to choke out

“Don’t worry sergeant, I assure you it will be” König got down on his hands and knees in front of Ghost, pushing his pants down to his knees, bending over and reaching back to spread himself open for Ghost. “I would be honored if you…if you had your way with me Lieutenant…” König spoke softly. Ghost groaned and immediately dropped to his knees behind König, not even caring if this would make it more difficult than the others. Ghost spit in his hand and spread the slick over Königs hole, sliding a finger inside of him to prep him, eventually entering another finger to stretch him. After pulling his fingers out, Ghost lined his cock up with Königs prepped hole, slowly pushing into him. Königs precum leaked to the floor as he moaned with Ghost as their bodies connected. Ghost very soon bottomed out into König, not taking a moment to waste before beginning to roughly snap his hips into König.

“Ah! Ah yes! Danke Lieutenant!!” König yelled, drooling on the floor as his face was pressed down.

Watching Ghost fuck König so desperately in front of them made it even more difficult for Price and Gaz to hold out.

“Wait, we’re allowed to do that?” Alex looked up at Gaz. Gaz was moaning too much to respond, just nodded. Alex stopped shucking Gaz and stood up, going around behind him and pushing his own pants down before putting some lube on himself. Gaz arched his back to push his ass up to Alex, giving Alex all he needed to push his cock into Gaz’s tight clenching hole.

“Mm, fuck~” Alex moaned, leaning in and muffling his sound’s against Gaz’s skin.

“Bloody hell-“ Price choked out, watching the other two fuck was what pushed him over the edge. Not many people knew that was one of his favorite things. Price surprisingly was the next to cum, his cock twitching as Alejandro kept the vibrator against Prices balls to make sure every drop was out. Now it was Alejandro’s turn to take Price to clean up and rehydrate.

Alex reached up and untied Gaz, but only to press him against the wall behind them. Alex was fucking Gaz into the wall, gripping Gaz’s hips as Gaz gripped onto Alex’s hands. Gaz was quickly approaching his climax, fully prepared to finish Alex off but-

“Fuck Gaz, I’m cumming- please let me cum in you!” Alex whined. Gaz nodded and reached a hand back to grip Alex’s hair as Alex bit and sucked on the skin of Gaz’s shoulder, leaving hickeys behind to remember tomorrow. “Yes, yes please cum in me Alex!” Gaz moaned. Once given the okay, Alex let himself spill inside of Gaz, the feeling of the warm sticky cum filling him up pushed Gaz over the edge, feeling marked and owned by Alex. His legs shook as his cum spilled into the floor beneath them. Both of them breathing heavily, staying out for a few moments before they were able to slowly make their way to go clean themselves up and rest. Leaving the winner, Ghost.

Ghost was still pounding König into the floor, one hand pressing Königs face against the floor, the other hand gripping Königs hip, clearly leaving bruises. “Yes, yes yes! Ghost!” König panted and moaned, letting Ghost use him as his personal cock sleeve. It wasn’t too much longer before Ghost pulled out and came on Königs hole, using his thumb to rub it in, making König squirm and whimper. Ghost was finished, but he knew König wasn’t, and he wasn’t about to just leave him like that.

“Roll over.” Ghost commanded. König swiftly obeyed and rolled onto his back. Ghost finished pulling Königs pants off and pushed his legs back. Ghost bent over to begin sucking off Königs cock, two of his fingers entering Königs used and cum covered hole. König arched his back, cursing in German at the dual sensation of being fucked from both ends.

Keeping a good rhythm with both his mouth and his fingers, Ghost was quick to finish König off. König had never cum this hard in his life…and he prayed it wasn’t the last time.

It definitely wouldn’t be the last time.

Turns out nobody knew what they’re were even betting for. They had all forgotten it was a bet by this point anyway.

[jimmy-j-james]

Any chance you could make a part two of Venom!Reader x Price, or a similar idea with Soap/Ghost? I think it's such a cool prompt

VENOM AU W/ SOAP AND GHOST

- Ghost x M!symbiote!reader & Soap x M!symbiote!reader

- Proofread:

- Genre: ???

- Synopsis: Drabbles on what it’d be like if Soap and Ghost had you as their symbiote, or more specifically their first impressions.

A/N: If anyone is wanting either drabbles for other characters, or full stories like Price’s, do request!

⚠️ Simon’s part is a bit graphic and more aggressive in nature⚠️

════════════════

SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY

Simon had found you while on a lone mission. The task at hand was simple. Walk in, grab the valuables (this case being the illegal scientific subjects), and get out.

Of course, the Brit wasn’t as lucky as the one tank for grabs was broken, the symbiote no where in sight.

The sight was a panic alone, but what further presented as eerie was the obscene sounds of wet flesh from above.

As Simon raised his gaze, he was shocked to find a black inky blob drop down onto his face. Pained noises escaping the man as the unlabelled thing forced its way into his maw before disappearing into his body.

Panting and shaking, Simon calls in the incident, called back for evac and an immediate check up with the base’s doctors.

The checkup had gone awful. He was sweating, hungry, and aggressive. Feral, that’s how the doctors described him.

They sent him in for an MRI, which had only caused more harm. In a strange fit of rage, Simon had even destroyed the machine. God knows how he had the strength to do such harm..

The strange behaviours only continued though. From general hunger to thoughts of cannibalism.. he’d express his concerns to Price again, earning himself a necessary time in solitary.

Pounding at the walls, screaming things he’d swear was out of his control. He felt insane and drained.

Lying back against a cold stone wall, that’s when Simon met the parasite. He had thought it was trick of the eye, but no.

A slick and slimy tendril traced out from beneath his sleeve, snaking down onto the floor as grasping hold of a small mouse that had been idly picking through rubble.

Simon watched out in horror as the creature strangled the small creature. Inside he thought back to the men he had killed in similar ways, but something about the way this small mouse was slowly being killed.. it scared him.

The tendril slowly retrieved the dead mouse, dragging it up to the head it had poked out from Simon’s shoulder.

The crunch alone scared traumatized the Brit, shooting up in a panic as he banged on the door desperately. Shouting out about the alien.. something passers would ignore on claims of him being insane.

“You are scared?” A low, raspy, and grotesque voice calls out from behind Simon, another small tendril slipping up his neck, beneath his mask. “They will not help you like I can. You want love, I can be that.”

The tendril is cold to the touch, dragging goosebumps along the man’s skin. A stuttered exhale leaving Simon’s scarred lips. He can’t help the way the touches relax him, an unexplainable phenomenon.

“You like this?” The creature purrs, almost tauntingly. “You humans are such needy beings.”

To you, Simon was a needy man. He practically lived off your touch and praise. Completely and solely dependent on you.

It was such a contrast to his past shell of being. The old Ghost, the one that would berate him for being so clingy to this alien.. but to him, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was you.

He fed you his victims, devoted his life to you. Saw upon you as a god rather than a parasite. A blessing even.

No one knew if it was a good or bad change for the bloke, but one thing was certain. Don’t bother trying to remove you from his body. If you were to be removed, either you’d let the man die, or he’d let himself die. Both of you needed each other, and no one could take that from you.

════════════════

JOHN ‘SOAP’ MACTAVISH

John had found you after running loose within a crash site. He had happened to pass by the crash of your ship, to which you had taken it upon yourself to use him as a host, without his knowledge of course.

He hadn’t noticed until days had passed. He was constantly craving weird things.. chocolate at first but then live animals. Next was the ungodly fevers he faced. Constantly sweating, and not your average amount either. Drenched head to toe in the stench. It was so bad to the point he was forced on medical leave, forced into bed rest while studied by the many doctors on base.

All was fine until they had him in a MRI. He freaked, or more so, whatever possessed him did. It was painful and traumatic. Seeing the sickly black mess slide across the floor. The doors were immediately locked, trapping him inside with it. Better him than the whole base, huh?

It’s what caused the alien creature to reattach to his body, to the life source it needed. It was what provoked the first verbal contact with said being.

“They want to hurt us.” It echoed throughout the Scot’s thoughts. Causing the man to stammer and desperately disagree.

“M-me? No, no, no! They’re after you!” He argued in turn, accent heavy in the moments of his panic. “Steamin’ jesus- get out of my body! Out of my head!”

To anyone else, the man looked absolutely insane. Fisting into his Mohawk, screaming on into an empty room. He remained like that, all until the other being spoke again. An grotesque tendril slipping out from his wrist, wrapping around one of his fingers.

“They don’t understand you like I do, John.”

The knowledge of his name alone had Johnny choking up. He was scared beyond belief. This had to be some cruel joke, maybe even the side effects of a bad concussion? But no. This was real. The thing was real. And he was stuck with it.

You thought of Johnny as the perfect specimen. Destructive and dependent of social praise. But those things didn’t matter anymore, he had you!

You kept him alive and well, refusing to detach from the Scot without harm caused. You truly were a parasite to him.

It had taken him awhile, but he had eventually learned to accept and care for you. Truly the perfect specimen.

════════════════

[logbush]

Yay a Glee (Quinn) writer! lol I miss her! Can I request reader lending her sweater to Quinn, when Quinn is home, she realizes she still has r’s sweater and she find r’s iPod. Out of curiosity, Quinn looks through it and finds a playlist titled with her name, friends to lovers please! :)

Lost Something?

1,035 words

fluff

quinn fabray x reader

a/n: this was hard to write for some reason lol. keep sending your requests, im working on them right now and they should be out sometime soon!!

if someone would’ve told you that you would’ve fallen for your best friend quinn fabray, you would’ve laughed in their face. but here you were, sitting across from her at breadstix trying hard not to lean over and kiss her. she was wearing a red sundress, matching her red headband, and jeans. a look that made your knees weak. you, however, had decided to dress down for the occasion, a hoodie and sweats, you didnt expect her to dress up so you didnt.

she looked at you and laughed softly “whats going through your mind, y/l/n,” she said softly before taking a bite of her food. you shook your head “no nothing, dont worry” you replied before pushing your plate away, something you did whenever you were done with your food. “you’re already done? i just started!” she joked, trying to finish her food faster. “hey, we dont have to finish at the same time” she laughed softly before copying you and pushing her plate away towards you after she finished.

the waitress brought the check by, you and quinn looked at each other. you both wanted to pay but you didnt want to fight about it so you just let her. she smiled as she reached for the check and put her card in it. you sat back and looked at her with a smile. “you let me pay?” she questioned. “i didnt want to fight about it” you answered. she shook her head “we wouldn’t have fought, i would’ve just made us get my way” she smiled while you laughed, “sounds like a fight to me” the waitress brought back quinn’s card. the blonde said a quick ‘thank you’ to her before the two of you got up and started to leave.

it was cold outside, ohio in december isn’t exactly the warmest. you looked at the cheerleader next to you, watching as she was shivering. you quickly took your hoodie off before handing it to her “put it on” you instructed as you walked with her to your car. she looked at you, without your hoodie you were left in just a t-shirt. she shook her head “i dont want you to freeze” she wrapped her arms around her body, trying to conserve warmth, “i’m not going to freeze, q, you might though” quinn scoffed jokingly before taking the hoodie from your hands and slipping it on, the smell of you wafting through her senses.

quinn wouldn’t never admit this to anyone, but she was starting to catch feelings for you as well. you did the sweetest things try to make her happy, like giving her your hoodie whenever she was cold or making her her favorite pastry whenever she was sad. you remembered the small things and she loved that about you.

you dropped quinn off at her house about a half an hour ago. she had been sitting on her bed in your hoodie all that time. she turned on her side and put her hands in the pocket. the blonde felt something touch her hand. curious, she pulled it out of the pocket and looked at it. your ipod. god, you must’ve been dying without this. you can barely go five minutes without music.

quinn got curious about what you had been listening to all these years so she decided to go through it. show tunes, neil diamond, john denver, billy joel, simon and garfunkel. all people she was expecting, you weren’t very new with your tastes. she kept going through it before landing on a playlist. this playlist intrigued the blonde, as it was titled ‘quinn <3’.

the cheerleader smiled at the sight before quickly clicking on it before she could think. make you feel my love, lucky, something, but one song stood out to her, you belong with me by taylor swift. the only song from this playlist she actually knew and knew the meaning of.

quinn sat stunned, the thought of you actually liking her back made her crazy. she couldn’t wait til tomorrow to find out, she needed to know now. the blonde raced downstairs and outside to her car. she got in and drove to your house, breaking numerous speeding and stopping laws.

once the blonde got to your house she knocked on the door until someone answered. just to her luck, you were the one who answered. “whats up quinn? why are you knocking so much?” quinn looked up at you, looking at you dressed in sweats and a tank top. she gently bit her lower lip before holding up your ipod, “lost something?” she said with a smirk. you smiled brightly before yanking your ipod from her hands “oh my god i thought this was gone forever! was it in my hoodie?” you questioned while bringing her inside and up to your room. quinn nodded and sat on your bed “it was, you know, there was a certain little playlist that caught my eye”

your eyes went wide and you looked down, trying to avoid any and all eye contact “i dont know what you’re talking about” you mumbled. quinn smiled and looked at you, she didnt need your confirmation, your reaction made her know you liked her. you felt the warmth of her hand on your back rubbing soft circles “hey its okay, can you look at me for a minute?” she questioned. you looked at her, scared for whats going to happen. the blonde used her hand to cup your cheek, gently rubbing the apple of it. “you like me right?” she asked. you closed your eyes in fear, you didnt want to lose her. you just nodded in response, your eyes still closed.

quinn sighed and looked at you, she knew you weren’t going to open your eyes so instead of trying to talk to you, she just placed a gentle kiss on your lips. “i like you too” she said softly. you opened your eyes slowly, making eye contact with her before kissing her again. she smiled and kissed back before laying down on her back, inviting you to lay on her. you laid your head on her chest.

“so are you gonna send me that playlist, love?”

[viking-raider]

HOME *Fic Request*

Summary: You and Henry crushed on each other, while growing up in Jersey. But, when he went away to boarding school, then became famous, you lost touch for a long time. Until, Henry decided to return home to Jersey, for a holiday, and recalled his crush on you, now a teacher, when you happen upon each other on the beach.

Pairing: Henry/Reader

Rating: You guessed it, FLOOF!

Word Count: 6,214

A/N: The Lavender and Red roses he brings the Reader mean something, I always felt Henry was a hopeless and amazing Romantic so he’d hide a message in their color. Lavender means: love at first sight, since they fell in love at first sight as kids, and again as adults, and the Red means: conveying deep emotions, since they both love each other very much.

Inspiration: Requested by @jessevans​ (x)

Tag List:@jennylovelyheart​, @peakygroupie​

“Are you ever going to tell her you like her, bro?” Simon asked, watching Henry stare at their next door neighbor, as they all hung out on the beach.

“That requires talking to her, and not stuttering every three words.” Charlie replied, grinning at his little brother.

“Shut up.” Henry barked, walking away from them.

“Hey, Henry.” You called, as he walked by. “You going home already?” You asked.

“Uh, yeah.” He smiled at you, feeling his face warm. “I got, um...homework.” he said, turning to head home, flipping his brothers off as they laughed at him, and unaware of you watching him go.

                                       20 years later – 2016

“Welcome home, bro!” Simon grinned, as Henry walked in the door of his family home in Jersey. “It's only been how fucking long, since you were last here? Home not big enough for the mighty Superman.” he teased, hugging him.

“Fuck off, Simon.” Henry grinned, hugging him back. “I'm not the same little brother I was, last time, I was home.” he commented.

Simon looked his brother over, Henry wasn't the same kid he had been, he was bigger in many ways, especially with all the muscle he was packing now, even more so since he'd just finished filming the Batman v. Superman movie. “Perhaps not, little.” he chuckled, patting Henry on the chest.

Henry laughed back, and the pair started play fighting until their mother yelled at them for it, and told them to come join the rest of the family at the table for dinner. After dinner and spending time with his family, Henry found some time to go down to the beach he enjoyed visiting as kid. He walked along it, watching as the sunset, enjoying the sea breeze and listening to the soothing sound of the waves crashing on the sand; it was the most peaceful Henry had felt since before he became Superman. He paused, seeing someone sitting in the sand a couple yards away from him. A shiver run down his back, catching the last of the sun's rays in their hair, and seeing the profile of their face, making his mind jump back to his childhood.

There was a knock on the door, and a bit of a scuffle behind it, before it finally opened, revealing 13-year old Henry, blushing like mad, and out of breath. “Hey, y/n.” he grinned, wildly.

“Are you okay, Henry?” You asked, tilting your head at him, concerned.

“Yeah, I'm fine.” he gulped and licked his lips, nervously. “Uh, I can, um, help...you?” he asked, trying to play it cool, and failing.

You chuckled, smiling back. “My brothers, and I, want to know if you and your brothers want to go to the beach with us?” You asked, brushing your hair behind your ear, and making poor Henry gulp even harder. “We got a new volleyball net.” You offered, in reason.

“That sounds great, y/n.” You heard Henry's oldest brother Niki say, popping up behind Henry. “We'll meet you guys there!” he said, pushing Henry out of the way, and grinning at you charmingly.

“Excellent.” You grinned back at him, but, your eyes lingered on Henry, before you left.

“You're welcome, Henry.” Niki grinned, going upstairs to get ready for the beach.

“Y/n?” Henry called to you, coming closer.

You started out of your thoughts, and glanced up at the voice calling to you. “Henry Cavill?” You frowned, standing up to greet him. “Holy shit. How have you been, Superman?” You teased him, watching him blush as easily as he did that last time you saw him.

“Good.” Henry answered, licking his lips. “How long has it been since...we last saw each other?” he asked, he'd found you even more gorgeous, now, than he had growing up with you.

“The day before you went off to boarding school.”

Henry's lips pressed into a flat line and he gulped around the horrible memory of going to boarding school, but blinked and shook it out of his head, not letting it distract him from you. “Christ, I was fifteen.”

“Yeah, feels like a lifetime ago.” You sighed, you'd heard how hard it was for him. “And you're famous now!” You smiled, changing the subject for the both of you.

“I am.” Henry laughed, looking down at his bare, sandy feet. “And, what do you do now?” he asked, meeting your eye.

“I'm a teacher, now.” You told him, brushing your hair behind your ear. “At our old Preparatory School, actually.” You blushed.

“That's incredible.” Henry beamed. “You were always great with kids.” he said, a sinking feeling in his stomach. “Piers, told me you got married a few years ago, I'm happy for you.” He told you, feeling the bubbling bile in his stomach reach his throat, as he said the words, and forcing the smile to stay on his face.

“Piers, knows better.” You told him, sighing.

Henry blinked, caught off-guard. “What do you mean?”

“James and I had our divorce finalized yesterday.” You grinned, despite the hurt in your chest. You had loved your now ex-husband, but, that loved didn't last a year, into the almost seven-year marriage. It wasn't like the love you'd held close to your heart for Henry, even after all these years. You could still feel it throbbing against your heart, as you looked up at him.

“I'm sorry.” Henry frowned, moving to hug you, before he even realized what he was doing. “I'm so sorry.” he whispered, against your hair.

You were utterly shocked that he hugged you, the gasp you took when he closed his arms around you, letting you feel the impressive change in his body since the last time the pair of you hugged, the alluring scent of his cologne, and warmth of his body against the cool sea air.

“I'm going to miss you, Henry.” You'd told him, standing in his parent's living room, as they threw him a going away party, before he went off to Boarding school, the next day.

“I'm going to miss you too, y/n.” Henry sighed, he'd practically begged his parents not to send him, but they wanted the best education for him, so he was going. “We'll be able to see each other on holidays.” he added, hopefully.

“I'd really like that.” You smiled, then hugged him, quickly, before jetting off to some other part of the house, shy, embarrassed and hurt, that he was leaving.

Of course neither of you saw each other on those holidays, it was a few months later you went on a foreign exchange program to the U.S, and Henry graduated, before you came back, staying in London, permanently.

Suddenly, both of you realized what had happened, and shyly moved apart, stammering apologizes and brushing them off with mumbled words.

“Anyway...” You cleared your throat and ran a hand through your hair. “What are you doing back in Jersey?” You asked, managing to look him in the eye again.

“I, uh.” Henry gulped, toeing at the sand. “I just, uh, finished filming Batman versus Superman, and thought I'd come home and take a...” he wiggled his head, trying to find a word to use.

“Take a holiday?” You helped, smirking.

Henry looked at you slowly, a sweet smile pulling on his lips, meeting his blue eyes so much, you could see the bit of brown in his left one. “A Holiday.” he agreed, nodding.

“Well, Henry.” You smiled back, glancing up at the now dark sky, the bright stars. “It's late, on a school night...”

“Oh, right.” He started, looking embarrassed. “I'm sorry...could I....walk you home?” he asked, flustered.

You looked at him, a tiny bit amused by his being gentlemanly, especially since he played Superman, you thought, fighting a giggle about it. “I'd rather like that.” You smiled. “But, it is like a...fifteen minutes walk to Cannon Street.” You warned.

“Fifteen or fifty minutes, I don't mind at all.” He assured you back, politely offering you his arm.

“Fair enough.” You chuckled, taking his arm.

Henry let you direct him in the way to your house, that you had, fortunately, gotten in the divorce settlement, or you'd be living with your mother in St. John, clear on the other side of the island; where you would have missed Henry finding you on the beach. You both walked together in peaceful silence, but Jersey was a small place, and people generally, always, knew each other, even by just a face. Henry's face was hugely recognizable, and Jersey was largely proud of their home town boy making it big. So, people recognized him, and You, on the street, stopping the pair of you a few times to take photos with him, or sign something, before letting him off the hook, and you took his arm again. You were unphased by all the attention he got, he was just Henry to you. You were proud of him, always. However, he was still that boy you knew; his status might have changed, his body and whatever else, but, he was still that Henry Cavill, the sweet and shy boy next door, that had owned your heart since the day you and your family moved into the house next door to his. You were six, and he was eight. He was good to you, at times, the world was not.

“Well, this is me.” You smiled, pulling you both to a stop in front of your house.

“It's a sweet little place.” Henry smiled, looking up at the simple two-story row house. “Can I ask you something?” he asked, looking down at you, thoughtfully.

“Of course.” You nodded, sweetly, shy butterflies in your stomach.

“Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?” He asked, biting the inside of his lip.

“Like, go out on a date?” You asked, brow creasing.

“We don't have to go out.” He told you, his fingers circling the top of your hand as it rested in the crease of his elbow. “We can have it here, if you're more comfortable. I'll even cook for you.”

“You cook?” You grinned at him, playful and flattered.

“I do,” He nodded, straightening up. “Quite well, if I say so myself.” He added, teasing.

“Well, we can find that out.” You told him, encouraging his suggestion.

“How about Saturday?” He asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

You took a deep breath, even this far you could still smell the sea as strong as if the both of you were still there. “If you don't mind me grading papers, while you cook? Friday's are still test and quiz days.” You giggled, licking your lips.

“I don't mind at all.” Henry told you, softly, leaning his head a little closer to yours.

You gulped, feeling his warm breath on your face. “Then, it's a date, Mr. Cavill.” You told him, resolutely.

“Perfect.” He grinned. “Don't worry about groceries, I'll have that covered.” He added, as you let his arm go and started inside.

You looked back at Henry over your shoulder and gave him a wink, then went inside, resting back against your door and giggled with glee at the prospect of Henry Cavill cooking for you, in your house. “I could melt.” You said, pushing off the door.

Henry stood on the sidewalk outside your home; watching, seeing your shadow move along the shuttered windows, his mind flitting around various things, what to cook for you, what wine to bring that you might like, what to wear, and what teasing his brothers were going to give him for finally being able to ask you out...sorta. Seeing your shadow appear in behind one of the windows, he turned abruptly on his heels and quickly walked across the street and back home.

“Where were you, Hank?” Charlie asked, his brothers were staying at the house, for the night, so they could see him.

“Um..” Henry gulped, eyes wide and on the floor between them.

“What did you do, brother?” Charlie asked, smirking, he knew that look of his brother's, he was guilty of something, something juicy.

“You remember,” Henry started, then thought fuck it. “You remember Y/n?”

“Of course, she was like a sister, we all spent so much time together, and you crushing on her like a poor man after bread.” Charlie laughed. “What about her?”

“I asked her out, on a date, just a few minutes ago.” Henry confessed, meeting Charlie's eyes.

“You do know she's married, Henry.” Charlie said, shocked.

“No, she's not.” Henry snapped, butterflies in his stomach. “She's divorced as of yesterday.”

“Well, you went quickly.” Charlie teased, slapping Henry on the shoulder. “How in the hell did you see her again? Don't tell me you went out after dinner, to go looking for her.”

“No!” Henry groaned, frowning, and abashed. “I went to the beach for a walk, and I found her there.”

“And?” Charlie pressured him.

“We spoke and I walked her home.”

“That's a twenty-minute walk!” His brother roared.

“How the fuck do you know that?”

“She's my son's teacher.” Charlie smirked, amused and proud of Henry. “And, this is a stupid small place to live, bro. It's not London, where you never see the same face twice.”

Henry pursed his lips, Charlie was right, he had somewhat forgotten the small town effect. “Anyway, we're having dinner at her place, I'm cooking for her.” he muttered, more to himself.

“How romantic.” Charlie smiled, patting Henry on the shoulder before going back upstairs, and finding Simon standing in his old bedroom doorway, smirking, he'd heard it all. “How, did you get her to go to the beach, Si?”

“I called Mary, to walk her there, get her out of the house, since she's been really depressed about the divorce.” Simon replied. “Then, I called Mary and faked an emergency, and she left, and like I knew, y/n stayed long enough after, for our dear brother, Henry, to meet her, after you brought up how nice a night it would be for a walk on the beach.” He grinned.

The two brothers had conspired to get You and Henry together, they'd conspired a long time over it, all three of them. They knew how much Henry and You loved each other, and never understood why things always seemed to keep you two apart; school, work, a marriage and whatever force it was. But, the three of them, would get the two of you together, by the time, Henry returned to London.

Saturday came, and Henry was racked with anxiety and worry about it. He went over the list of what he wanted to buy at the shop before he went to your house, rethought about the type of wine he should buy, worried that it wouldn't pair with the food, or worse, you wouldn't like it. Niki stood in the kitchen, watching Henry mumbled the words on the shopping list, for the twelfth time.

“Hank.” Niki said, his military commander voice coming out. “For fuck sake, man.”

“What, Niki?” Henry snapped, flustered.

“Come on, and grow that set of balls, you fucking have!” Niki barked back, like he was talking to some grunt on base. “You and that girl have been smitten, and goggling, at each other since you met. How the fuck, does me, Charlie, Simon, even Piers, mom, dad, her parents, and everyone on this island know it, and not the two of you?”

“She likes me?” Henry's heart leaped.

“Like you?” Niki grabbed Henry by the shoulders and gave him a good shake. “Y/n fucking loves you, you oaf! She married another man, while still holding on to her love for you. It's been how long, since the two of you have seen each other? And her love is still there. You've dated several women, got engaged once, but, your heart didn't love them. It was y/n, that you love. That's why those relationships never worked out, for either of you. I'm tried of us pussy footing around it.”

“She's in love with me.” It slowly all came to Henry now. “Fuck, I love her, Nik.” he grinned like a fool.

“Yeah, I know.” Niki quipped at him, relieved, finally, to see it on Henry's face. “But, don't be an idiot, and storm the castle, and scare her away. It's been twenty years of holding on to the love, probably feeling no hope of it happening. Not to mention, she's freshly divorced. Be the gentleman and good man you are, Henry. That's who she loves, you. Not your fame or money. She loves the real you.”

Henry shook his head. “No, if she can be so patient, I can as well. It's just dinner, after all.”

“A dinner you're fretting over, like a man going over his fucking vows.” Niki laughed at him.

“Shut the fuck up, Nik.” Henry laughed, pulling away from him. “I have to go shopping.” he said, picking up his coat and heading out.

“Don't fuck this up, Henry.” Nik said, to himself. “She's a good woman.”

You were running around your house like a terror from hell. You'd been cleaning your house, top to bottom, ever since you agreed to have Henry over to dinner. You'd changed outfits twice, and was thinking of a third time; were you too casual or too formal? Fuck, you never fretted this much when you and James were dating, course then, the two of you never really went on dates. So, finally you decided on something that said, I made an effort, but, I'm still bring myself. Nearly jumping out of your skin, when your doorbell finally rang.

“Fuck, have mercy.” You mumbled to yourself, hurrying to the door, paused a moment, then pulled it open, greeted by, a thankfully similarly dressed, Henry, who clutched a paper bag of groceries in one arm and a boquet of lavender and red roses in the other, that made you, instantly smile brighter. You took the roses from him, to release his arms of some of the burden, and smelled them, closing your eyes happily, no one ever bought you flowers before.

“You like them?” he asked, stepping into your entryway.

“I love them, Henry. Thank you.” You told him, stepping out of his way. “The kitchen is this way.” You led him down the hall into the nice and modern kitchen.

“What a kitchen.” Henry commented, surprised, as he set the groceries on the island. “You even have a pot filler by your stove.”

“Yes, James updated it in a frenzy after, God knows what. But, by the time it was finished, he lost interest.” You confessed, looking around it.

“Do you use it?” He asked, pulling things out of the bag.

“Sometimes.” You told him, watching the things he pulled out. “My mother usually the most, when she visits.” You stood on tip-toe to see what else he had, curious to what in the world he was going to make. “What are you feeding me, Henry?” You asked, turning and going down the hall into a closet and taking down at vase from its top shelf, so you could put the flowers in water.

“Thai Chicken and Coconut curry.” He told you, carefully folding the bag and setting it out of his way. “I recall you love Curry.” He said, watching you fill the vase.

“I do, a great deal.” You nodded, looking at him over your shoulder.

“Pans are there.” You pointed to the cabinet above the stove, any utenils you need are in the drawers on either side of the stove, and if you find yourself needing more spices, the pantry is the glass door with the word pantry on it.” You quipped.

“Excellent.” He said, pulling out a skillet from the cabinet above the stove, then turned to the island, biting his lip over all the food laid out over half of it, but grabbed the bottle of red wine, he'd bought two bottles, just in case, and showed it to you with a smile, suggestive.

You smiled back, reaching under the end of the island you were standing at and pulling out two wine glasses, from the hanging rack there. “The opener is below your left hand.” You told him, rounding the island to him with the glasses.

Henry took the bottle opener out of the drawer, and popped the bottle open. “I hope you like red wine, it pairs best with the curry I'm making.” he told you, pouring your glass, then his own.

“I love wine, in general.” You told him, taking a sip and savoring it.

“I'm glad.” He smiled happily at you, took a sip of his own glass and went to the counter behind him to grab a knife to cut up the chicken and other components of the dish, before getting it to simmer with the coconut milk. He tilted his head to you, one hand on your wine and your other holding a red pen, as you graded the big stack of tests in front of you.

“Are the tests still as silly as they were, when we attended?” He asked, coming to stand next to you, to watch.

“No, they're actually quite good.” You told him, scanning the test on top one more time, before setting it in the stack of papers you'd already done. “It's the answers that seem rather silly, nowadays.” You smiled at him. “The curry smells incredible.” You complimented him, your cheeks warming.

“Well, I hope so.” Henry grinned back, a blush on his own face. “Even though, this is the first time, I've made it.” He frowned back at the skillet, worried he'd mess it up or you wouldn't like it.

“I'm sure it will be excellent, Henry.” You told him, resting your hand on his arm. “How can something smell that good, and not be that good.” You inquired, following his gaze back to the stove.

“We shall find out.” He said, going to stir it.

You'd graded a good amount of your papers, by the time Henry had dinner ready, twenty-minutes later. You put them aside and put your full attention onto him as he plated it, biting the side of your lip as your heart skipped, he was gorgeous. The tip of his tongue poked out a tiny bit between his full lips, as he focused, chuckling softly, when he cursed, spilling a little bit on the counter. You got up, grabbing the dish towel by the sink, and leaned in to wipe it up, Henry looked up at you as you did, both of your faces an inch apart.

“I'm sorry.” He whispered, but not for the spill.

“It's alright.” You whispered back, understanding his meaning.

He put the pan down and cupped your cheek, then kissed you, with a pent up passion. You met his passion, tossing the cloth in your hand carefully onto the counter, and wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him pick you up and set you on the counter by the sink. Your kisses grew heated, and sloppy at moments, but, both of you were panting with satisfaction of finally being able to let it all loose.

“I'm sorry.” Henry said again, his hands resting on your hips. “I shouldn't have kissed you, I don't want you thinking I'm trying to rush anything.”

“I don't think that.” You told him, pressing your palms to his neck with your thumbs caressing his jawline. “I'm glad, I finally got to fucking kiss you, the way I've wanted too, for so long.” You confessed, licking your kiss swollen lips.

“As am I.” Henry smiled happily, kissing your lips again, ever so softly.

“We should eat, before it goes cold.” You told him against his lips. “You worked too hard, to let that happen.”

Still smiling, Henry moved away from you, and you hopped off the counter. Grabbing your plates, and refilled wine glasses, you both retired to your dining room, sitting across from each other and dug into the food Henry made.

“Oh god, Henry.” You moaned, eyes closing at the amazing taste of the curry.

“You like it?” He asked, his fork between his mouth and plate, waiting for you to take the first bite.

“It's super good.” You told him, going in for more. “You've out done yourself, Mr. Cavill.” You complimented him. “You are, indeed, a good cook.”

“Why, thank you, love.” He beamed, finally taking his bite, and finding you quite right about it. “So, how long have you been teaching at the school?” he asked, between bites.

“Three years.” You answered. “How long are you staying in Jersey?” You finally dared to ask him.

“I'm staying for a month or two.” He replied, a bit reluctant. “My agent's been contacted with a few roles that I'm interested in, and one that's been asked of me.”

“Oh?” You asked, genuinely interested.

“Yeah, one is Justice League, obviously Superman.” Henry easily spoke with you. “and,” He grinned, at the thought of the role, he hadn't told anyone yet. “One with Tom Cruise, for a new Mission Impossible movie.”

“That is so cool.” You grinned, excited for him. “Do you know what role?”

Henry sighed, still smiling. “Yes, the character is an American, Secret Operative, named Walker.” He explained, loving the look of genuine excitement and interest, not like most of the other women he's been with. Niki was right, you really loved him.

“Good guy or bad guy?” You asked, finishing the last bit of your food and taking up your wine glass.

“I'm not sure yet.” Henry told you. “I'd be excited if he was a bad guy, it's something different than what I've been playing the last little bit. And,” he leaned across the table to you, he was so excited, it infected you. “I get to grow a mustache.”

You giggled, at his excitement over it. “You must be thrilled, I'm sure you'll do an absolutely amazing job, whether Walker is good or bad.” You assured him, you were already proud of him for it.

“Why don't you come with me?” He asked, spontaneously, catching you off guard.

“What?” You smiled, flustered.

“We'll be filming in the summer, so you won't have to worry about school.” He reasoned with you.

“You want me to come with you, to wherever it is you'll be filming, during the summer?” You asked him, your stomach flipped with a flush of maybe it was too soon, and wanting to say yes, all at the same time.

“Yes.” Henry said softly, then blinked, his eyes going to his empty plate. “Fuck, I'm sorry, that was stupid. We've only just seen each other after years, and here I am asking you to come away with me. Nik told me, not to storm the castle.”

Your head dropped back as you roared with laughter, catching Henry off-guard this time. “Niki wouldn't go to the store, without a layout of the store's aisles, names of everyone that worked there, what number of the aisle that a specific item he needed was on, what shelf and where on said shelf, Henry, and you fucking know that.” You laughed, you'd grown up with the five Cavill brothers, and knew everyone of them, well.

Henry bust out laughing with you, knowing you were right. “But, still...” He closed his mouth, then opened it for a moment, before closing it again.

“You can tell me.” You whispered to him, reaching across the table and resting your hand on his. “Anything, you always have.”

“I don't want to rush, but I love you,” He told you, turning his hand to take a hold of yours. “and have since I was a nine.” He finally confessed. “Fuck, I'd take you away right now, if I could...”

“I'd go with you.” You interrupted him, gulping.

Henry looked up at you, his cheek twitching as a smile tried to pull across his lips. “Would you?” He whispered, quietly.

You squeezed Henry's hand has hard as you could, wanting the point to be made physically, emotionally and verbally. “Yes, all you need is to ask me, Henry.” You whispered back to him in the same tone.

“Would you go with me, when I film the movie, this summer, y/n?” He asked, in a steady conviction, dripping with just as much emotion, as he squeezed your hand, gently back.

“Yes.” You answered, in a normal and strong voice.

“Would you do something else, for me?” He asked, meeting your eyes.

“What?” You grinned.

“Come back to my parents with me,” he asked you. “I'll bring you home, I did bring my car.” He added. “I want my brothers to finally see us, and get the fuck off my back.” He laughed. “It seems they've been conspiring for a long time to get us together.”

“I know.” You grinned, slyly.

“What?” Henry asked, surprised, sitting up. “How?”

“Your brother married my best friend.” You told him, thinking of Mary. “She couldn't keep a secret, even if you didn't tell her one.” You chuckled, you loved her, but it was true. “She told me, after overhearing Simon and Charlie, talking about how to get us into the same place, once they knew you were coming home.” You explained, utterly amused.

“And, you didn't tell me until now?” He marveled at you.

“Unlike, my dear Mary, Henry.” You giggled, taking the last of your wine. “I can keep a secret. I mean, I kept the one about loving you, for twenty years.”

“But, everyone knew you had it.” Henry protested.

“Everyone, but you, who I had been hiding it from.” You countered, winking at him.

“Well, you've got me there.” Henry agreed, raising the last sip of his wine to you, in salute, then downed it.

“So, shall we go break the news?” You asked, pushing your seat back and getting up.

“We shall.” He grinned, getting up with you. “And, thinking about it.” He added, noticing the empty bottle of wine and the second one half full. “I think we should walk, we've had a few and it's not that long a walk.”

“Very smart.” You agreed, going down the hall to retrieve your coat. “Maybe, stop by the beach.” You suggested to him, holding out his coat to him as you both stood impossibly close.

“How many hours I've spent on that beach, either thinking about you, or watching you.” He admitted, taking his coat. “To finally step onto it with you.” Henry leaned down and kissed you again.

“You are an incredible person, and soul, Henry.” You told him, pressing your forehead to his. “It's one of the endless things, I love about you.” You brushed your hand through his hair, loving how soft it is, and his curls. “I love you.”

You and Henry entered his parents' house, and found his family just finishing their own dinner. All of them turned in their seats as you stopped in front of them, eyes on the pair of you, then dropping to your linked hands.

“Oh my god, Henry!” His mother, Marianne cried, getting out of her seat. “It's about time you told y/n the truth.” she grinned, ear to ear, and making both you and Henry blush. “Welcome into the family, y/n. Not that I never considered you a daughter to start with.”

“Mother.” Henry blushed, licking his lips and looking away.

“Christ, Henry.” His father chuckled, grinning himself. “Your Mother's planned your and y/n's wedding since you were ten.”

“Holy Christ!” Simon howled, holding his sides.

“A family conspiracy, I see.” You smiled, taking it in stride, and humor.

“So, has your mother, y/n.” Marianne told you, surprisingly.

“What?” You croaked, turning almost as red as Henry, in an instant, and looked up at him. “It's a wonder, how it is, we didn't end up in an arranged marriage.” You said, laughing harder, as Henry practically melted from the hot blush he had going on.

“We did think about it, but your fathers said no.” Marianne farther confessed.

“Mother.” Henry gasped, eyes wide as an owls, but she just shrugged at him.

“We always thought you two were so good for each other...”

“Don't use the soul mate word again, mum.” Niki said, insanely amused by the goings on.

“Again?” Henry squeaked out.

“This has been one, well thought out plan.” You admitted, giving them all props for it. “I commend, and thank you for it.” You looked at Henry, who looked at you, his face relaxing and his color returning. “If you all weren't so insist about it, I don't know if we would have done it ourselves.” You professed, blinking softly at him.

Henry nodded, sharing your sentiment and feelings. “I agree.” he whispered, kissing you, right there, in front of his entire family, Kal included, as Marianne clapped wildly and his brothers laughing their heads off.

“Are you two staying for dessert?” Marianne asked, when the kiss broke.

“Most likely, have each other for dessert, mum.” Piers commented, winking at Henry and you.

“Piers!” Marianne snapped, softly at her youngest, who just shrugged his shoulders and hands at her, unabashed.

“I can go for both.” You whispered in Henry's ear.

“I heard that!” Charlie chimed in.

“Oh, shut it!” Henry barked at him, playfully. “You all got what you want, and we got what we want.” he said, putting his arm around you. “So, what's for dessert?” he asked, as a place for you two was made.

When dessert was finished, You and Henry walked down to the beach, hand and hand, happy and full. You took your shoes off, walking in the wet sand as the soft waves washed over your ankles. Henry seemed content, but also thoughtful.

“What's on your mind, Henry?” You asked, hugging his arm and pulling him closer to you.

“Thinking about how I already miss you.” He told you the truth. “Granted, I won't be leaving until filming for the movie starts, and you'll be coming with me...” he sighed.

“You're thinking about after, when school here starts again.” You nodded, looking out over the water.

“I'll be back in London, and you'll be here.” He watched the water with you. “I know, it's not too far to travel, but it seems almost farther than the time it took us, to get where we are, here and now.”

“Well, what if I told you,” You started, pulling him to a stop. “that perhaps we wouldn't have to be so far apart.” You asked, looking up a him, still holding his hand as your other hand rested on his side.

“What are you talking about?” Henry frowned, shaking his head, confused.

“At the start of this school year, I was given an offer,” You explained to him. “to teach, at a school in London, next school year.” You told him, with the hint of a smile, hoping it was alright with him.

Henry's eyes grew. “Really?” He asked, feeling a hope.

“Yes,” You nodded, smiling up at him, seeing the spark in his eyes. “I was given recommendation from our school.” You told him, grinning.

“That's incredible!” Henry exclaimed, picking you up and kissing you. “Do you have a place?” he asked, still holding you, wet and sandy feet dangling.

“The school offered me a place until I found something.” You told him, feeling the pounding of his heart against yours.

“Fuck that.” Henry snapped, shaking his head. “Stay with me.” he told you, adamant. “I love you! Christ, I think Kal loves you more than I do, he'd love it just as much.” he searched your eyes. “Please.” he begged you, setting you down.

“I am yours, Henry.” You told him, dearly. “I want to go where you are, where ever you are.”

“And, You will.” He told you, grinning so hard his face hurt.

“Oh, don't do that.” You whimpered, seeing tears in his eyes, choking you up. “You know, what happens to me when you cry.” You told him, wiping at them as they slipped down his face, your own falling with them.

“I'm so happy to be home.” He sniffed, holding your face in his hands. “Home.” he empathized, pressing his forehead to yours.

[maswartz]

How the MCU can do the Fantastic Four and the X-Men

The Fantastic Four

This is my idea for how Marvel can do a Fantastic Four movie series if they ever get the rights back from FOX. And yes I know a lot of people are in love with the whole “set in the 60s” idea but I’m not.

Reed Richards- A young entrepreneur who made a fortune on multiple patents allowing him to indulge in many scientific curiosities. He holds degrees in multiple fields of science. The press has dubbed him Mr. Fantastic. (think Elon Musk meets Bill Gates meets Steve Jobs) After the accident he gains the ability to stretch his body to incredible lengths Susan Richards- An expert computer programmer and hacker she’s able to sneak into any network. Her programming software is used in all of the FF’s hardware. The accident gave her the power to create invisible force fields as well as cloak herself and others from sight. She calls herself the Invisible Woman as a result. Johnny Storm- A stuntman and experienced pyrotechnics expert he lives to chase the thrill. When his sister invited him on the trip he leaped at the chance. The accident gave him the ability to create intense heat and cover himself in flames. He declared that he was the Human Torch from now on. Ben Grimm- A test pilot who went to college with Reed and has kept in touch ever since. He volunteered to pilot the test flight but suggested that Reed either address the shielding or postpone until the storm passed. The accident mutated him into a rock covered Thing giving him increased stamina and strength. Before battle he recites the motto of the Yancy Street Gang “It’s Clobbering Time!”

Marvel’s Fantastic Four

Reed Richards creates a spaceship in the hopes of making spaceflight available to the public however during the test flight a cosmic storm strikes the earth. The cosmic radiation mutates Reed, his wife Susan, her brother Johnny, and the pilot Ben giving them strange powers. However they were not the only ones effected. Bolts of cosmic power strike all across the world (setting up future heroes and villains). One such bolt strikes a mountain sending cosmic radiation throughout it. A man named Harvey Elder was mining in the mountain when the bolt hit causing a cave in. However the energy mutated him and the life within the soil around him. He became the Mole Man and commanded an army of mutated worms, insects, and moles to do his evil bidding. Fighting him was the first test of the Fantastic Four!

Marvel’s Fantastic Four: The U-Foes

About a year after the cosmic storm hit Earth, Simon Ultrecht head of U-Forces a rival of Reed’s is contacted by a mysterious benefactor who managed to obtain a sample of the cosmic energy. Driven by greed Simon exposed himself and three others creating the U-Foes. The Fantastic Four must prevent these superpowered threats from wrecking havoc.

Marvel’s Fantastic Four: Doom

Little did the Fantastic Four know that the mysterious benefactor was watching them, studying them, analyzing their strengths and weaknesses until he had the knowledge he needed to strike. Victor Von Doom has returned to get his long awaited revenge against Reed Richards!

Marvel’s Fantastic Four: Galactus

Months after the battle against Doom a strange object enters Earth’s atmosphere, a silver man on a silver board. The Silver Surfer declares that Galactus is coming and that none can stop him from consuming the world. It’s up to the Fantastic Four to find a way to stop the Devourer of Worlds from destroying the Earth.

The X-Men

The basic premise is that in the MCU mutants only began to emerge in the last 20 years or so, two groups have formed to protect mutants though their methods vary greatly. The X-men protect humanity and mutantkind alike from themselves and each other while the Brotherhood of Mutants attacks humanity for their crimes against mutants. Each group has valid points but their conflicting goals leads to conflict.

The Uncanny X-Men

An international conference on Mutants is held that the Brotherhood seeks to disrupt while the X-men seek to protect it. As a result mutants are revealed to the world at large

X-men vs Brotherhood of Mutants

Charles Xavier- Professor X - Psychic founder of the X-men, dreams of a world where humanity and mutantkind exist as one. Due to an accident he lost the use of his legs

Max Eisenhardt- Magneto - Master of magnetism, survivor of the holocaust he vows mutantkind will not suffer the same fate.

Former friends and allies, the falling out between the two lead to the formation of the separate groups

Scott Summers- Cyclops - Due to a childhood injury he is unable to turn his eye beams off, only a special visor can block their power.

Gunther Bain- Unus the Untouchable - A former wrestler he discovered his ability to create force fields during a match costing him his career. His shields are one of the few things that can block Cyclops’s beams

Hank McCoy- Beast - Born with enhanced physical strength Hank is a genius as well, however he has begun to mutate further growing blue fur and claws.

Mortimer Toynbee- Toad - A street urchin most of his life, he has enhanced agility and a prehensile tongue as well as the ability to cling to walls.

Warren Worthington III- Angel - A wealthy playboy he hid his wings for most of his life, but with the X-men he can soar free.

Irene Adler- Destiny-  Though she is blind she has the ability to see the future, including any possible moves her enemies make.

Bobby Drake- Iceman - A young prankster who can create and manipulate ice and frost.

St. John Allerdyce- Pyro - A man who wants to see the world burn with the power to manipulate flame and fire

Jean Grey- Marvel Girl - Able to read minds and move objects with telekinesis Jean is the newest member of the X-men but there may be more to her powers than she realizes.

Jason Wyngarde-Mastermind - A man able to reach into the minds of others and create realistic illusions of whatever he finds within their memories.

X-Men 2: Night of the Sentinels

After Mutants were revealed to the world the Sentinel project was begun in secret to combat the more violent mutants. However the project was hijacked by a bigoted politician to use against all mutants, the X-men and the Brotherhood must join forces to protect them all. A post credit scene reveals that the school has begun to admit new students.

X-men 3: Mutant Island

Professor X detects a powerful mutant on a remote island, however once the team arrives they discover the island itself is the mutant. Only Cyclops manages to return home and warns the Professor. Using his powers Professor X summons aid from around the world.