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the-goddess-of-mischief-writing · 8 months

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Codename Bravo

Oneshot Summary; Price finally tells you about task force 141.

Pairing: Cpt. John Price x reader (sunshine!universe)

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Onehsot

Word; 5.1k

Warnings; mentions of abuse/torture, mental health discussion, PTSD-triggers, kind angsty with fluffy ending ngl

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

A/N: This turned out much more angsty than I'd imagined, but I think it progressed their relationship in a good way.

SUNSHINE UNIVERSE MASTERLIST

"Love", you answer John's call with a hum from his en-suit, massaging in the last product of your morning skin-care routine. Your eyes flicker to the doorway in the mirror when he steps into it, leaning against its frame. His hands dig into his jogger's pockets as he does.

You fan your face, trying to help the moisturiser dry quicker, greeting him with a small smile.

John's hair has grown longer, not as neatly chopped during his home visit. He's probably racked a hand through it as he left the bed or pulled on his jumper, trying to neaten his bedhead, concerning it seemed to have hastily been swept upwards and to the side.

"Have any plans today?"

"M'no". You turn, blue eyes following you when you walk forward. As you stop before John, you raise your hands, brushing your fingers over his face to gently rub any residue cream onto his skin. His nose scrunches, instinctually closing his eyes, making you chuckle.

"Done with your onslaught?" John asks when you drop your hands and he cracks his eyes open.

You peck his lips, mindful that your still dewy skin doesn't come in contact with his. "Yes". You smile, walking back to the sink to wash your hands. After flicking the access water from them, you reach for the towel hanging beside his.

"Thought about somethin'", he begins and your eyes find him in the mirror as you cock a brow. "Think I'm ready". Your hands halt their movement of running between the fabric. You look over your shoulder, holding the towel rather than drying your hands.

"You mean?"

John nods. "Have thought about it and I've decided, wanna talk to you about... everythin'".

"Yeah? Alright", you quickly dry your hands and turn to him.

It's been two weeks since the visit at the pub that brought not only a guy trying to hit on you but the ordeal Ghost helped you through. You hadn't brought it up afterwards. Or at least you hadn't asked John about what he would consider sharing, not wanting to pressure him.

Your man had, however, expressed how much it meant to him. Not necessarily through words, but he spent considerably more time with you, if it so was while cooking or if you did any routine of yours. He also touched you more, arms anchoring around your waist at each given opportunity, kisses pressed more frequently to your forehead, lips or neck, a hand always resting upon your skin when you sat together watching a movie or doing your separate things.

But you hadn't talked about it. The incident, if you may. You wanted to, yet left it up to John to decide the when. And that seemed to be now.

You walked over to him, hands settling on his waist as you looked at him. "What do you say about taking it downstairs? I can make us a cup of tea?"

His smile was warm when he nodded, agreeing to the idea with a kiss to your hairline, aware of your freshly fixed skin.

You try not to work yourself up. Try not to imagine what John might tell you. And still, there's a jittery feeling in your body disturbing the otherwise slow air of a weekend morning.

You can't help but look forward to John opening up about his work, filling the gaps he intentionally left vacant and those you didn't want to speculate about. At the same time, what should you expect?

Your fingers tap against the kitchen counter as you watch the kettle boil, hot steam billowing from the opening. Your eyes fall to the little plastic bit still pushed down and shining blue. Soon done, you think.

You're so focused on the kettle that you don't even notice the man who slides up alongside you until an arm circles your waist and breaks your attention.

Glancing to your right, you find John standing there.

"Nervous?"

"I... yes, no?" Your brows furrow. "I just don't know what to expect", you shrug, offering him a smile.

His blue eyes search yours, head tilting. John gently tugs at your waist so your body angles towards his. When it does, his other arms also circle your waist. Your hands naturally fall to his abdomen, sneaking under the knitted sweater he's wearing. Even the walking heaters seem unable to withstand the late autumn temperatures that creep into his house.

"Never asked if you felt ready to talk about it. If you don't, we can take it another time?"

"Been ready for a long time, John, don't worry". You shake your head to dissolve any worry of his. "Just don't want to make you uneasy by reacting badly or something", you admit sheepishly.

The military has ingrained many things in him, minor and not-so-minor ones. Some you know, others you don't. One of the ones you'd picked up on was that he always worried about others before himself. Captain, your mind whispered each time you noted it. He was used to caring, leading others, shouldering their safety. You didn't need to know about the things he guides his subordinates through to admire him for it. And yet, you knew that at the moment, John worries more about you than himself.

And the fact is he shouldn't. John was the one who needed to become comfortable enough with even the thought of speaking about anything concerning that part of his life. You can only imagine it hasn't been easy despite not noticing he's behaved differently. So, for him to finally take the step of fully explaining things to you? You didn't want him to regret that choice just because you've grown unsure of yourself.

It wasn't crippling doubt that crept into your bones while you've been waiting for John to determine when he's ready. Even so, you've replayed what happened at the pub, wanting to know more about what may be the cause. You'd felt powerless then, not knowing what was happening or how you could help. You haven't thanked Ghost. But, you're grateful for how he'd stepped in, not knowing the result of the situation otherwise.

"If you're expressionless the whole time, that would worry me more", John chuckles, keeping your gaze with a soft expression in his eyes. "Don't worry too much about your reactions. I want you to tell me if it gets too much or if you have any questions. Can you do that for me, eh?"

"Promise", you nod. He smiles, ducking his head to press a lingering kiss to your lips, pleased with your reply.

What breaks you up is the tick of the kettle, signalling the water has reached the simmering temperature adequate for a cup of tea.

"Go sit down. I'll bring these over". You leave another quick peck on John's lips before stepping out of his arms towards the two awaiting cups.

"Spoilin' me this mornin', are you?" You roll your eyes as he presses a kiss against your temple when he passes.

"Rather making you comfortable", you look over your shoulder as John heads to the living room. That softness in his eyes grows warm, the crows-feet in the corner of them becoming more prominent as he returns your smile.

Preparing the tea, you catch John rummaging behind you. You put in the teabags and a dash of milk in John's cup. As you walk to put back the carton in the fridge, you throw a look in his direction.

The man who always prefers milk in his tea when he's home, concerning it's not a luxury he always gets when deployed, is currently tending to a fire. He's kneeling before the fireplace, apparently having had an easy time with the wood and matches as the flames flicker with an orangey colour, lightening his face in a warm glow.

Returning to grab the cups of tea, you head over to join him.

You hadn't envisioned this being how your morning would play out, but the crackling fire adds to the relaxing atmosphere and eases whatever nerves you previously harboured.

When you stop by the couch, John has left the fireplace and walked over to join you. You hand him a cup before settling down on the plush pillows with your back leaning against one of the armrests. He follows, naturally sitting down only to lift your legs and shuffle closer, draping them over his lap once comfortable.

You momentarily place your mug on the coffee table, reaching for the blanket thrown over the backrest close to your head. You unfold it over the two of you, John accommodating your shuffling by raising his mug to not spill any of the liquids inside. Not until you settle down again with your cup in hand does he cock a brow at you.

"Cosy?" The firewood crackles and you tilt your head sideways against the couch's back, hands clutching the warm mug in your lap.

"Yes", you answer with a smile.

You raise your cup, sipping the warming blend as you watch John, waiting for him to start talking. But he sits in silence, one hand repeatedly skimming up and down your blanket-covered shin. His eyes had shifted to the fire. The flames lighten his eyes, making them appear as if the blues in them are alive. From how he keeps quiet, your brows knit together.

"If you have changed your mind, that's alright". Your voice is gentle, reminding John you're taking this at his preferred speed. His eyes return to you, brows raised.

"No", he waves his hand dismissively, holding his mug steadily on your legs with the other. "Just... gatherin' my thoughts. Don't really know where to start". John's sentence is a short chuckle followed by a shake of his head. He knocks his head backwards, resting it against the couch's upper ridge, tilting his face towards you.

You hum in return. "One day, you can maybe tell me your backstory. But today, it's enough to brief me on things you consider essential to know".

This time, John's chuckle is genuine as he nods. His fingers tap against the mug in a quick rap of each digit beside his thumb hooked in the ear.

"You know I'm a Captain, part of SAS". He brushes past the things you already know. "But, there was a reason I said we ain't technically affiliated with the army the first time we met and ain't only because of bein' special forces".

You remember the initial reluctance and a later lighthearted but brief description of their profession. "How so?"

"You were onto it with that clever mind of yours. There's a reason we spend so much time together". John's head cocks to the side and you understand he refers to the absent presence of Ghost, Johnny and Kyle. "I handpicked the lads".

Your head cocks. "For what?"

John exhales heavily, eyes flickering away as he raises his mug to his lips. He sips the tea, leaving your question to hang in the air until he turns to face you again, gaze locking with yours.

"Taskforce 141, a multinational coalition comprised of various top members from special forces specialising in counter-terrorism. The British SAS is one of them". Your eyes widen, that you hadn't anticipated.

It wasn't a light fact that John dropped on you. It wasn't 'I'm just in the army' or 'A soldier in the SAS', both of which you would've understood why he didn't want to go about mentioning to every soul he meets. But this? Captain in a task force only assembled by special forces? It explained a whole lot more.

"Whatcha thinkin'?" You blink out of your stupor, not noticing your eyes have dropped until you raise your gaze to John's again.

He was tapping his mug, watching you closely, gauging your reaction.

"Just... that it makes sense", you chuckle, briefly glancing down at the mug in your hands before your eyes find his. "I hadn't guessed it, but at the same time, I'm not surprised".

He smiles at that. "Said it, too clever for the pretty facade". You shake your head at how he squeezes your leg, the side of his mouth tugging upwards.

"Despite that, I have a question", you return. John nods, encouraging you to ask. "You mentioned you handpicked them. Feels like you need a high-level authority for that?"

"I am a Captain", he quips, making you nudge his thigh in amusement. Both of you knew that might not be the sole requirement to choose who gets selected for such a task force. "Had a part in launchin' the 141 a few years back, too many loose ends for my likin' that ought to be tied up, which makes me highly involved in who gets picked".

You make an ah sound before speaking. "So the others, why them?"

"The lads have all advanced within the SAS. I met Ghost when he first enlisted and worked with him a fair share while he rose through the ranks. Soap and Garrick, I discovered later but still early on in their careers, came to work with the latter a lot when he became a sergeant", John explains. You can't help your smile. He's talking proudly of them.

"So you lot are the core of it then?"

The corner of John's lips twitches upwards as he hums. Before answering, he raises his mug to his lips. "Can say that, at least of the British branch", he says once he swallows his tea.

"What other branches are there?" He sends you a look, one that isn't hard to decipher. "Let me guess, classified?"

He hums an affirmative in return. "Some things are, even to immediate family. Other times, it's more of a safety thing. The less you know, the less valued you are".

Your brows furrow. Something about how John said it made an uneasy feeling infiltrate the air.

"What do you mean by that?"

"In our line of work, there's a reason not everyone entertains a life outside the base, not more than a functionin' one. Some view attachments as dangerous".

You swallow. "Why?"

"We soldiers are a different kind, ought to be", he shrugs. "But, we also deal with desperate and dangerous people, and when those people also want power, it can go south quickly". John's voice is even, factual, as he explains the circumstances. "Some don't dare evolvin' civvies with that".

"What's your view on that?" You watch him closely.

"I'm sittin' here with you, love". John's smile was gentle as he rubbed your shin over the blanket. "Got worried?"

"For a second, yeah". Accompanying your reply is a sigh of relief.

He offered you a gentle smile and squeeze of your leg. "Bigger chance you'll leave me".

Your frown at him. "Why would you say that?"

"If you haven't noticed, I am an old man in the military." John chuckles, but the sound grates your ears.

Despite you teasing him of the occasional back pain or just for amusement, John isn't old. You'll remain firm on that belief. So what his sentence insinuated didn't sit right with you.

"Sure". It's more you filling the silence than affirming anything as your thoughts process. John's lightheartedness is a poor attempt to mask how his eyes avert from yours after the sentence. It's fleeting but enough for you. "Is that something you worry about? Genuinely?"

John looks momentarily taken aback. His brows shoot high on his forehead, lips dropping from the mug's rim a second before he lowers it. He looks at you through his peripheral before facing you fully, gaze locking with yours. He must see it then, the same seriousness contorting your features in concern as what previously laced your voice.

"Have passed my mind, yes", he exhales the truth. Sinking further into the couch, the hand at your leg stills. He looks forward, eyebrows setting while his tongue swipes over his bottom lip.

"Do you believe that, John? That that's a reason I would leave you for?"

"Enough of reason in my ears, love".

"Then, well, you're going deaf". Blue eyes find yours. "I won't leave you for a reason that ain't true. Sure, you've been a soldier for long enough you've become a Captain. But, in my book, you're definitely not an old skeleton sitting on an army base".

"Might as well be. The shit we see-". John shakes his head. "It just sticks with you sometimes, hollows you out, s'hard to let go and not always the easiest for others to handle".

"Is that what you feel like?"

"I feel like I don't want to burden you too much with it". John rubs your leg again, smooth motions up and down. For your sake or his, you don't know. "If not for what happened at the pub... would probably not have this conversation already. Afraid it might scare you off".

You clench and unclench your fingers around your mug, playing with its ceramic ear as you watch its liquid contents swirl. There's a part of you that shrinks at that. You feel bad.

Did he think you would walk out the door the second everything isn't sunny days? Was that why he needed time to think about telling you?

A hand enters your vision seconds before a gentle nudge against your chin raises your head. Blue eyes meet yours and you see how John has leaned closer.

"Remember, speak your mind", he gently reminds you of your earlier promise.

You sigh with a nod, and he drops his hand to your thigh. John remains near when not retreating to his previously upright position.

"I hope you didn't feel forced to have this conversation".

"I felt ready". John doesn't hesitate when he answers.

"So why say we wouldn't have had it if not for what happened?"

"Can't say the military is known for lettin' you open up about how you feel", he exhales. "So it's hard to do it other times as well, despite suspectin' you wouldn't shun it after the pub".

You can't help but think about what happened at Marissa's place. How John initially had been so adamant about repressing what triggered him, his frustration and shame for reacting like he did. You do understand it better now. Nonetheless, a gnawing sensation nestles in your skull when you learn that if not witnessing what you did, John would probably have continued to bottle things up.

He'd mentioned how he hadn't let go of something from his last deployment, how something still was fresh enough to rip open like an invisible wound. You didn't know the things you now do back at the pub. Despite this, it hurt you that John thought he had to carry that weight himself.

"I know we talked about how hard it was for me while you were away when you returned. But we never-". You bit your lower lip. "I never asked how you got on, not more than briefly. I know it probably would've been too soon to ask then, but concerning what happened at the pub, did everything really go to plan?

He swallows harshly, giving you a curt nod. "Can't tell you much... but said it went well, and it did. We pursued some leads that brought us to somethin' we've been lookin' for". John turns his head, looking into the fire as he continues. "Also found somethin' we hadn't anticipated, the thing that held us up", he motioned with his fingers as if referencing the conversation you had over the phone the day he returned to base from two months of no contact.

And then, he grimaces, lips curling into a thin line as his hand comes up to drag across his beard.

"The men we were after grew paranoid, believin' someone sold us information concernin' how close we followed them. They weren't mistaken, but they looked in the wrong place. We found a base with civilians, beaten up quite badly. All of them...". He lets out a painful huff and a single shake of his head. "All of them were women".

The corners of your lips fall downward, a heavy feeling settling in your chest. A glum sensation, almost tasting round and cold in your mouth, washes over you. You feel for John. You feel for what he witnessed.

You sit up, placing your mug on the coffee table as you bring one of your legs from his lap, crossing it in front of you so it rests along his thigh. You reach forward, placing your hand upwards on John's leg, letting him be the one to initiate contact.

You don't have to wait long before one of his hands lands on yours, his fingers intertwining and giving you a single squeeze.

Relief washes over you when John doesn't pull away, likewise when he turns to look at you. Even though he must have been distant, reliving the moment he described, the faraway look previously evident creating the perfect blank slate to reflect the fire as if mirroring his memories. He's with you now.

"The lad at the bar... it triggered the memory of when we found them".

It isn't hard to follow the same path John's mind must have. The man. His raised hand. You. Those civilians. Even you could see the eerie resemblance to what he witnessed not more than a month before during his deployment.

Now, both your hands hold his, cradling it as you rub delicate circles with your thumbs before you raise it to your lips. You press a soft kiss over his knuckles, right atop the little strips of silver marring his skin.

"I understand". You murmur against John's hand, leaving another gentle kiss before you drop it to your lap, continuing the soothing motion of your thumbs.

John sighs, leaning forward to let this mug join yours on the table. When he settles back into the couch, he turns his body towards you. You shuffle to accommodate as one of his legs joins yours on the couch. Even so, the knee of his bent leg rests partly on top of yours. You don't mind the weight, not when it makes John feel closer to you.

He lets you hold his hand while he worms his other beneath the blanket and your joggers, seeking the slightest bit of your skin to graze as he readjusts your leg, now resting closer to his hip.

"Sometimes it just feels like it never stops, so neither can you. It's hard to go home, take time off and rest when you know they don't do the same. Far too easy start thinkin' about, and then, it can overwhelm you". You nod, showing you understand. "S'what happened at the bar".

"Should I assume it's stress-related?"

"Somethin' along those lines. I don't struggle with the disorder type. Med-evals cleared those. But despite years in the field, some missions are always harder to let go of immediately after comin' home". John admits. Now, his thumb draws circles into the skin between your thumb and index finger.

"How does it- did it feel?" You ask with a tilt of your head, referring to the only instance you can relate to. He'd hastily explained it in the confines of Marissa's office but must still have been high-wired from the sensations.

John's brows draw together and he purses his lips, possibly contemplating how to answer.

"Feels like gettin' stuck in your head when you shouldn't, like too many thoughts which provokes adrenaline. But, it's no productive thing, mind battlin' itself as you know it's not needed while still gettin' the injection. Feels like a quiver here-", John points to the spot not far from the top of his ribs, right between his pecks. "-fight or flight bein' on the verge of explodin' and already fadin' all the same, an unsettlin' feelin'. At the pub, there were too many connections, similarities with our mission".

"You know, I may be good at reading people, which helped me notice something wasn't right that night, but that only helped me so much. I didn't connect the dots, I guess because I couldn't place what was happening, never seen it before". You shrugged, defeated.

"It's not a big shift for the eye, but it's noticeable if you know what to look for", John explains before adding, "The more you're around it, the quicker you notice".

"I... I need to admit, John, I think it was a long time since I felt so helpless", you confess, head dropping forward as you remember how it felt having John standing there seeming so far away. "I could do nothing but watch Ghost help you, not knowing what was happening. I felt so out of my depth".

You feel a hand on the side of your neck then, raising your face with the help of the thumb notched beneath the hinge of your jaw. As you lift your eyes, you catch how John had ducked his head. He didn't need to say anything this time for you to speak your mind.

"I tried to help, but it didn't...". You trail off as the image of John shying from your touch while accepting Ghost's flashes on your frontal lobe. The image creates a lump in your throat that you try to swallow.

"Please, love", he coaxes you, brows knitting together upon your grimace. Disliking the pleading look on John's face, you release an unsteady breath before you speak. "It kinda hurt seeing how you reacted to Ghost compared to me". Despite trying to keep your voice strong, it grew small at the end of the sentence.

Something flickers in John's eyes as you stare back at him, something that creates a fogginess hiding away the glint in those blues.

"I understand, but know that I didn't want to". John soothes, voice the most delicate you ever heard it. "I saw you, heard you...though when your brain slowly diverts to the same thought pattern as on the field... it gets hard not reactin' like that. With all the time I've spent with the lads, you grow used to differentiate them from others".

You must have done something that suggested his explanation wasn't what you wanted to hear as panic flashed deep in his eyes. His lips part, probably about to apologise, either for his wording or something else.

"I know I can't fault you. I know that. I'm not upset about the fact". You intercept before John has the chance to say anything. "I understand that Ghost, fuck, even Kyle and Johnny know what you're going through and can catch onto it quicker to help you out of it. I understand there's a different bond between the lot of you that I can't copy. It's just that I want to know how I can help you if something like that happens".

John swallows, eyes flickering between yours. "You're not wrong, but I don't want that kind of bond with you when I have a different kind".

John couldn't be more glad you didn't enlist. If not for the selfish reason that he probably never would've met, and even if so, entertaining a relationship would've been difficult, maybe even inappropriate. Then, because he knows the army robs any man or woman enlisting from their former self and future normalcy as if permanently hooked up to IVs with terrors or troubled insides.

"Love, I want you to know that you give me something they do not. You give me peace". John raises your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss against it. The bristles of his beard tickle your skin when it drags across his chin as he drops it into his lap. "You might not steer me through those episodes like Ghost can and did. What we know- what we do, is the same as in the field when softness is no alternative, when momentarily reprieve is the only choice. But, you can help ease me through them-".

"But how, John, how do I do that? I tried to touch you, but you flinched away. You didn't respond when I talked to you and gave me no sign you heard me. My options were running low, if not non-existent". The words tumbled out of your mouth as you tried to make your point through the desperate emotions the conversation roused.

"I-". John stops himself, momentarily looking to the side. He takes a deep breath that he exhales before facing you again. "I can't swear it's a one-solves-all remedy. But, talk to me at first. If you notice touch doesn't work, set it aside for a while and when you try again, begin with non-critical places. Today's a good example. Take it slow, be gentle, leave it as open as possible for me to take the step", he jiggled your intertwined hands.

You bite your lip, looking at your hands. "I guess today was easier because I knew this may be a touchy subject and no matter what kind, you can't brute-force those. Last time took me off-guard", you breathe out, eyes returning to meet the blues already watching you.

"M'not holdin' it over you. Just grateful you didn't tuck tail and run".

"I wouldn't do that". John watches you, scanning your face with a soft look, replacing the look of self-doubt and worry now fading from his eyes.

His left hand drifts to your cheek, thumb brushing your cheekbone before he beckons you closer. You follow his request and he meets you with a kiss.

His fingers curl into the back of your head, massaging with slight presses into your neck muscles. You exhale through your nose, falling further against him. Knowingly or not, he helps work the nerves out of your body with the gentle pressure changes.

John is the one who pulls away, but you don't mind when he keeps himself close by letting your forehead rest against one another.

Your eyes are still closed when you speak. "Thank you for opening up".

"All because of you, love".

"No need to flatter me". You lean away, smiling kindly, voice light. John's eyes flutter open not long after, his blue eyes happier as they shine in a way you hadn't seen before.

"I'm serious". John's hand presses against the side of your face briefly. "You help me relax, slow down the thoughts, make me feel present". John's tone is steady, eyes never averting from yours as he speaks.

A warmth rises in your chest, blooming to envelop your ribcage. Your cheeks gradually strain from how your smile slowly unfolds, from a pout to pressing your lips together in a line that soon bows upwards. The way it does when words are too sweet and immense to accept quickly.

The slow unfoldment mirrors the feeling in your chest and you can't help how the weight of emotions turns your words into something between a choke and a laugh. "Oh, John".

Your hand lifts to his, holding it as you lean into his touch. Some of your fingers sneak beneath his hand, resting against his rough but warm palm, while your thumb settles on top of it. As your head tilts against the couch's backrest, it traps your hands close. You can't move your thumb much, but you draw a circular motion into his skin the best you can.

You gaze back at John. There are slight creases beside his eyes, those crows-feet. At the moment, the smile tugging his lips brings them forth. The blue of his irises seems to shine, to be alive. They're glittering in a way that isn't entirely thanks to the fire but from something inside.

You want to spew everything welling in your chest. How grateful and proud you are of John. How much this conversation mean to you.

Yeah, you wanted to tell this man all the feelings he roused, feelings you hadn't felt in a long time, if ever.

229 notes · View notes

ellethespaceunicorn · 1 year

Text

Shape-Up

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Cpt Syverson x Black!Reader

Fandom: Sand Castle

Word Count: 1.3K

Summary: Syverson and his girl, Peaches, try and trim his beard without causing a ruckus. Spoiler alert: they fail.

Warnings: Daddy kink, creampie, unprotected p-in-v, pregnancy sex, wasted sandwiches

A/N: There is a really good Syverson Spotify playlist I listened to for this. It was dope. Also, this is my first time writing Sy, so please, be kind. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

My Masterlist

“Peaches!”

You can hear the shout and start making your way upstairs finding your husband in the bathroom.

“There they are!” He coos, kissing your cheek before sliding his hand across your slightly pregnant belly.

“Baby, I’m only at three months! There’s barely a baby yet,” you giggle, secretly loving how Sy has become so sweet suddenly.

“Hey, girl, you’re carrying my baby. Let me be cute, alright?” he insists, kissing your forehead, “Or if you want, I can trim my beard myself. I know you hate doing that for me,” he jests, enjoying the expression change on your face.

“Oh, come on, you know I love trimming your beard, baby,” you whine, pushing out your bottom lip and giving puppy eyes for good measure.

“Fuck, you know what that does to me, Peaches. That mouth of yours got us into this whole situation, ya know?” he jokes, gesturing to your belly.

You feign confusion and Sy rolls his eyes, and you think he is unable to see the sly smile you are hiding as he turns away.

“You do know there is a mirror in front of you, right?” he warns, and you meet his eyes in the reflective surface, “I saw that smile. You think you slick, Peaches?”

“Daaaaaddy, come on. You know we technically were planning around this time to start a family,” you gushed, pulling him close by his beard, “Plus, how cute is this belly gonna look in all them damn sundresses you like so much?”

“What can I say? You have the curves that make a sundress a thing of beauty, Peaches. Just thinking about this lil bump adding another curve to you is doing something to me,” he flirts, his hands wandering over your hips.

“You are too much, sometimes. I love that you can’t get enough of me. But damn, I just took care of you this morning, Daddy,” you insist, trying to jog his memory of having you over the kitchen table.

You watch as the memory plays again across his face, and you can’t help but smile.

He has his beard-trimming kit out on the counter and you have him sit on the toilet and comb out his beard while he watches your face. He pauses, pulling out his phone, and suddenly ‘Just the Two of Us’ is playing.

“Our song!” you beam, smiling at your man.

“We might need a new song soon. It’s gonna be more than two of us. Us versus this lil menace,” Sy laughs, his hand going to your belly.

“I mean, this baby is half-you, so it’s gotta be at least 50% menace. You are right about that,” you agree, reaching for the clippers, “Now, hush up so I can get started, Sy.”

“You only call me Sy when you’re serious, so I’ll hush up this time,” he mutters, lifting his chin so you have better access to his neck.

Luckily, you have done this enough times that it is almost muscle memory at this point. Taking care of the neckline. Shaping up the frontline. Trimming what strays pop up from combing. It’s like an art form, beard trimming. You get lost in it every time.

“I’m almost done, can you play ‘Simple Man’?” you ask, getting in the zone.

“You got it, Peaches,” he says, leaning away to choose the song on his phone, coming back to where you are holding the smaller clippers.

You get back to work, holding his chin up so you can get any spots you missed. Turning his face this way and that, you are finally happy with your work. You were even able to work in a fade to the beard which isn’t his usual style. But when his usual style is basically human Wookie, it’s hard not to want to kick it up a notch.

You step away and let him get up to check out your work in the mirror. “So, how do you like it, Daddy?”

“I love it, Peaches. Damn, I’m looking kinda sexy,” he praised, running his hands over his beard.

“You are looking damn sexy, Daddy,” you flirt, landing a hand on his ass, “Now hit the showers and I’ll have lunch ready in no time.” You scamper out of the bathroom before he can get his arms around you. By the look of lust on his face, you’re lucky you got away.

You hear Sy’s heavy footsteps coming down the stairs and you hit play on the kitchen speaker. ‘Tennessee Whiskey’ starts to play as he rounds the corner and he gets a fantastic view of what you’re wearing.

The “Proud Army Brat” apron that Sy got you as a gag gift is on you, as well as nothing else. Well, nothing else but a smile, as you hold up his favorite lunch. BLT with a pickle spear and kettle chips.

“You are so fucking perfect,” he mused, grabbing the sandwich from your hands and placing it on the dining table, “Can I have you instead of the sandwich, Peaches?”

“I’d be lying if I said ‘I thought you’d never ask’,” you hummed, wrapping your arms around his neck and swaying to the music.

You two lazily kiss and dance to the song until it ends and Sy picks you up, You wrap your legs around him. He walks to the living room and kneels in front of the couch, as to set you down to sit on the couch.

Once you are seated, his hands go to your thighs, spreading you open. ‘Kashmir’ starts to play on the kitchen speaker, and if this was pre-baby you would be lighting up a joint to share. But the kind of pleasure you are about to get makes a joint sound like a high-five.

Sy sinks right into your pussy, lips sucking your clit as one hand rests on your belly and the other finds its way through your folds. You moan and place your hands behind Sy’s head, beckoning him even closer to you.

“Fuck, Daddy, you eat pussy like a god,” you breathed, catching his eye as he licks his lips.

“Damn right, Peaches. I love eating this pussy and you know why?” he quizzes, his thumbs running little circles around your clit.

“Because it’s yours, Daddy,” you groan, grinding your hips for any kind of friction you can get.

“Yes, Peaches. It’s all mine,” he growls, pushing his shorts down so his heavy cock pops free, “Daddy is gonna fuck this pussy now, ok baby?”

“Yes, please, Daddy, fuck me. I’m ready,” you gush, ready to be filled by him.

He takes the tip of his dick and collects some of your moisture, tapping the head against your clit so you moan for him. He lines himself up and pushes in, and you both hiss at the feeling.

“Fuck, Peaches! This pussy is so good, almost too good, baby,” he grunts, holding on to your thighs and pounding into you. He continues to hit that sensitive bundle of nerves within you.

“I’m gonna cum, Daddy,” you whimper, legs shaking as your orgasm overtakes you.

“That’s my good girl, Peaches. Daddy’s right behind you, baby. Daddy’s right there. Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuuck,” he babbles as he empties inside you, his poor brain is pretty much gone at this point. But he still has the faculties in order to pull out and kiss up your belly, as if praising you. He picks you up easily, carrying you back up the steps and into the bedroom. He helps to wipe you down and undress you.

You are already half-asleep when you feel Sy wrapping his arms around you. “Sleep for now, Peaches, then we can try to eat again. No promises that it won’t end up exactly like breakfast and lunch but I’ll try my best.”

“Love you, Daddy.”

“Love you, too, Peaches.”

Follow-up to this story: My Little Strawberry

**Tag List**

@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25

@astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry

Let me know if you wanna be added and for what plz 😁

[General Fanfiction (Everything), Henry Fanfiction, August Walker, Bright Like The Moon]

#captain syverson x reader #captain syverson #syverson #syverson fanfiction #syverson x ofc #cpt syverson #syverson x reader #syverson fic #captain syverson fanfiction #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #henry cavill #henry cavill characters #syverson x you #syverson smut

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hypercodation · 11 months

Text

Cpt. John Price x M!Reader

“I love you”

CW: none, fluff!!!

A/N: sorry for not posting, been kinda depressed recently… imma stick to writing fluff for a bit 👍

It started with a winding down after a mission, you and the boys all rented different hotel rooms after a mission. Almost everyone has their own room… except you and Price. Your relationship wasn’t really kept secret from the task force, but wasn’t exactly out in the open.

You plop down on the couch and beckon Price over, and pull him into your lap. This position is usually switched, but you have a little plan.

“….. It still surprises me how easy you can toss me around.” He mutters, trying his darn best to not put his whole weight on you.

“Don’t mention it. It’s what I’m trained for.” You say with a laugh.

You grab the edge of his shirt and pull. “Can you take this off?”

“Why’s that?”

“Cuz…. I wanna give you a massage.”

“How sweet. But I feel like you just wanna see my bare chest.”

“That. Annddd I wanna give you a massage. You deserve to relax, John.” You say looking up at his blue eyes, he sighs and pulls his shirt up over his head.

“Good boy.” He huffs playfully at your words.

You slowly, firmly press your warm hands into his back and he lets out a huff of air. You continue, up to his shoulders. Firm rubs and pushes…

He seemed to be holding back a bit… stifling his borderline embarrassing noises.

“Relax John… no judgment here.” You say softly, rubbing your hands over the scrapes and scars on his back…. The muscles, his… almost scarily smooth skin.

After you destress a particularly rough knot he groans, his head tilted back. You smirk. “Liked that one huh?”

His cheeks flushed at the realization and he glared down at you… “I said I’m not judging…. I promise.” You move down and continue, and he lets out a huff. “Thank you…”

You lean down to kiss his shoulders… the scars…. Dark spots.. freckles… taking him in. “You're so pretty…” you say, just loud enough he could hear. This catches him off guard….

“Pretty..?”

You nod into his neck. “Like flowers…. The stars…. The moon.”

“I’ve…. Never been described like that before…” he says, leaning back into your touch.

“Well… that’s how I see you.” You lean up and kiss his cheek, continuing to massage him.

“John, you can put your full weight on me… you're not gonna crush me.” He sighs.

“Y/N-“

“Don’t ‘Y/N’ me.” You basically force him to put his full weight down.

“Chillax.”

“Chillax…?” He says, royally confused. It’s a word he’s heard Gaz use a few times. Is it even a word???

“Yeah- chill and relax.”

“I’m not sure if that’s even a word…” he says looking back at you.

You huff. “Shut up and let me love you.”

Price sighs, and smiles. “You can love me as much as you want to love…” you smile in content and hum into his neck, holding him ever so closer…you trail small kisses from the back of his neck to the sides and over again, earning a chuckle from price…

“I love you more than you know.”

“And I love you more than the stars and moon.”

#call of duty #cod x male reader #cod #cod x reader #captain john price #john price cod #captain john price x male reader #captain price x reader #captain price x male reader #captain john price x reader #captain price

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isabella-kr · 11 months

Note

price dating headcannon?

Dating Cpt. John Price

Let me start off by saying that Price is a gentleman through and through

I have no doubt he would treat his s/o like a treasure

Date nights whenever you two get the chance, and when he's at work he always makes sure to call and use whatever little free time he's got to speak with you

He'd pamper you

But he'd love to get pampered too

Get him some beard oil even if there's no occasion for it

Prepare a beautiful dinner and watch him melt with a soft smile on his face

He values honesty and loyalty, so if you're not loyal & honest with him, you won't be a good match

But if you are, I've no doubt your relationship would only bloom and become stronger with time

Of course, like with any relationship, arguments are bound to happen.

He doesn't enjoy them; he witnesses enough arguments and yelling at work, so when you two do argue, he likes to sit you both down and calmly talk through whatever seems to be the matter

Safe to say, it gets solved quick, and soon enough you are back to being happy

I have a feeling he enjoys hugs and other type of physical intimacy.

Playing with his hair? he could fall asleep in seconds

Forehead and cheek kisses? Never fail to make him smile

Hand holding? Loves them

Cuddling? Yes please

He loves them all, and frequently initiates them

Of course, if you're ever feeling overwhelmed/not up for this type of intimacy, he respects that and keeps his distance

He's attentive, so when he sees you struggling with anything, he is eager to help, whether it be work, studies, or even mental health issues; he is there by your side

He'd be open with you too, but given his work, there would be certain things he would not be able to tell you

I feel like he'd value understanding in his partner, because someone who would give him grief for not being to share work-related stuff would not be a good match for him

Same goes for you however -if there is stuff you genuinely cannot tell him, he'd understand

In my mind, he is the perfect man, and his emotional/maturity makes him that much more attractive than he already is

#call of duty modern warfare #cod modern warfare #call of duty mwii #cod x reader #cod mwii #captain john price #cod x you #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #cod captain price #captain price cod #call of duty captain price #captain price #captain price x reader #cod captain john price #captain john price x you

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hurrraaid · 1 year

Note

AHHHH SCREAMING

Pacific Rim is one of my favorite movies ever and probably my biggest hyperfixation! I think of PacRimxCOD all the time! Rudy and Alejo are 100% drift compatible obvi!

Cpt Price probably holds a record of some kind. I can see him being initially paired with Nik then Nik is either retired or wounded and he’s then paired with Gaz!

I like to think of GhostSoapRoach in a 3 man rig!

For my pacific rim au the jaeger teams are:

Soap and ghost (used to be roach and ghost before roach’s injuries)

Alejandro and Rudy

König and horangi

Alex and Farah.

And price is retired from piloting but his copilot was Laswell, not nik.

Nik is an engineer so does lots of work on the jaegers and gaz is a technician (think tendo from the first movie).

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imeternallylove · 1 year

Text

Not in your life - Cpt. Price

Cpt. John Price x Reader ( call sign: BONE ) ( pt.2 )

genre: angst, kidnapping

warning: suffering from enemies, swearing words

word: approx 1,000

ps: please enjoy my 1st fanfic of cod fandom!

main mastetlist | request | prompts

As you groan, you hear a piercing land harshly on your ears.

"Bone...look at me," Price commands again, “eyes open, Y/N.”

Fluttering your eyes open, you take a shaky breath through your nose, coughing at the damp, mouldy air and cringing at how sore your throat is.

When you hear your boss sigh, you raise your head and lock your gaze on his slightly blurry face. “Still broken?" He asks.

"I’m good boss," you grunt, unable to move your hands since they're entwined.

"Our legs are tied to the chairs," the captain declares, seeing him never pissed this way before. "Kinky," you retort sarcastically.

Price clenches his jaw as he slowly moves his gaze up and down your body, his eyes counting every bruise and cut, major or minor, that you have sustained as a result of him.

But before he can finish his sentence, the door slams open, causing both of you to turn your heads to the ricocheting sound.

"I see they're awake," the man says, snickering and shaking his head.

“Typical…” Price roars as the crack against your face thunders around the room, lulling you.

As blood begins to trickle from your mouth, you groan and work something hard in the back of your cheek, spitting it into your lap as you gaze down at one of your molars.

"I'll burn 'em all," you tell yourself.

"What the bloody hell do you want?" Price asks, perplexed.

“Simple," the man with the accent query. "Who killed Barkov?"

“Why?” Your boss asks, his brow furrowed as he watches the Russian man close in on you.

"You have too many questions, Captain Price," the man says as he pulls a needle from his inner coat pocket and places it just above your shoulder, making you wince at the cool, hard piece of metal tingling against your skin.

"Once again, who killed General Barkov?"

You begin to whimper as the man presses the tip of the needle into your muscle, shaking your head and signing no to Price.

"You know... This musculus. Is very...sensitive...to pain," the man lowers his voice and begins to smile deviously.

But all Price could do was move his gaze between the man and your face, grimacing as the pain spread across your body.

"I can take it," you claim as the man slowly sinks another half-inch of steel into your muscle.

To keep from crying, you bit your lower lip firmly. "Don't do it, boss," you shiver, causing the man to plunge the needle into your muscle once more.

Your bark was out and it was nothing short of a piercing sound.

Your leg was leaping helplessly from the torture, and tears rolled down your cheeks until you noticed the man repeatedly pull the needle from your muscle.

Price was trying desperately to keep his own emotions at bay as his eyes continue to stay locked with the Russian man standing behind you.

"Such loyalty," the man whispers as he wanders to your side, stroking the needle under your skin as your chin drops, gasping for breath lightly for oxygen.

The man pauses before inserting the needle's hand between your ribs, causing you to fling your head back and shriek to the ceiling. "Such bravery..."

You couldn't hold anything back your tears any longer. It's not the fear of death that pushes you over the edge, but your dissatisfaction with appearing weak in front of your captain

"Such beauty..." the man hums, leaning back and flicking his tongue out towards your earlobe.

That urged the captain to finally open his mouth.

"I'll tell you."

You feel your blood trickling down your skin, your lungs overflowing with intense draws of dust as you slowly raise your wet, blistered eyes down to reach his furrow-browed, deeply concerned death stare.

"Perhaps some one-on-one time with us will push him to tell us a lot quicker, right? Sergent." The man says as he holds the back of your chair, shifting it on its back two legs and slowly dragging you behind him.

“Y/N…? Y/N!?” Your boss yells, panic spreading across his body.

You tremble as you begin to fret, your head spinning as you find yourself being shoved throughout the floor. "Let me go!" After the man above you smacked his fits against your face, your eyes began to swell shut and it became difficult to see.

Hearing a door open, your heart begins to hammer in your chest as your breathing becomes erratic, the panic in your stomach beginning to rise into your throat as you feel yourself become nauseous.

“I’ll tell you!” Price finally roars out.

"No, he won't!" You lash out.

"I can't let them hurt you, Y/N!" The captain's voice screams. And despite spending years with him in various war zones, you had never heard such desperation in his voice before.

"I'm okay with it..." you whimper.

"I can't let them do what they're planning..." Price begins to wane.

Because seeing you in pain was a lesser penalty than not seeing you in pain. He would know how to aid you if he witnessed every move and heard every cry. Price would be aware of what had occurred and would know how to treat you both in and out of the centre...what moves to make and which to steer clear of as he helped you in recovering.

But if they took you away...

"So..." the Russian man lulls as he flops your chair back, crushing your hands behind you as they strike the cemented ground with the full force of your weight, snapping a couple of your fingers and fracturing your shoulder as you scream out in suffering.

"Do you want to talk?" As he approached Price, the Russian man asks

And when you hear the thundering shattering of a door against the musty walls of your confinement, you hear many footsteps make their way against the floor as firearms begin to cock in every direction.

"Not on your motherfucker's life." Soap says on the left side of yours, you could be heard Price giving orders to his solider as Helo landed.

"We need meds for bone now!"

You are completely broken but wonder why the rich tone of an old man softened when he uttered it.

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konigsblog · 3 months

Text

-gooner/porn addicts 141

;a gooner is someone that's addicted to porn.

tw/cw: "gooning", cult-like themes, porn addiction, mentions of NON-CON, rape, DUB-CON, depravity and delusions. dead dead: do not eat. 🪦🕊️.

characters included; 141. 🩸

gooner cpt. price

your captain has a sick and twisted addiction nobody knows about, aside from you, who found out after looking for a file on his computer. no, it's not his cigar problem, everybody knows about that! but, instead it's his disgusting, depraved porn addiction, the countless porn videos on his computer evidence of that.

gooner price doesn't treat it like a religion, or like a cult. if anything, gooner price has an addiction, one that cannot be fixed. he will watch almost anything, despite how morally wrong it may be. he can't help himself, he goes crazy without out, and if he's too busy, or on a mission, he goes insane and becomes easily agitated without his pornography.

at times, he finds himself sneaking into the new recruits barracks, raping them to relieve of his urges. he feels disgusted and he knows how deranged he's becoming, but he goes insane without it. he can barely get off, and you're subjected to hours of long abuse as he holds out his orgasm (he's unable to cum w/o pornography), dizzy and dazed as he slobbers over himself, cock aching and balls tight.

gooner sgt. mactavish

sgt. mactavish does treat it like a cult. he makes sacrifices to his "god", that god being pornography, and his sacrifice being you and other recruits he finds. he's known to be creepy in private, everyone has heard him jerk off at least once, because he fists his hard dick multiple times a day, barely cumming.

he likes to hold his orgasm, to prove himself to be worthy. and when he sacrifices his victims, he feels proud of himself. people thought it was just his sexual needs, but they were completely unaware of his sick actions, how he acts them out. johnny is so far gone, he'll watch rape porn while raping a drugged reader. your cunt becomes swollen and sore, puffy from being used for hours.

gooner sgt. gaz garrick

like johnny, sgt. garrick also treats it like a cult. instead of sacrificing, he manipulates you into bending over for him, so he can use your body for however long he pleases. he's not exactly using you for his pleasure, he can't get off simply from your body. he needs multiple forms of stimulation to get him cumming, and even after hours, all he's left with is a sore dick and painfully tight balls.

he watches porn all the time, almost drunk and intoxicated off of it. you'll find him drooling all over himself with sticky globs of cum all over his hand abdomen, finally cumming after holding out on his orgasm for hour. he "prays" all the time, even in public. find him watching porn on his phone when he's supposed to be writing reports, crying from overwhelming and overstimulating himself. he enjoys the pain, he thinks it makes him a good believer in porn.

gooner lt. simon riley

like price, he does treat it like a religion, but instead uses it to distract himself of all the horrible things he's done in his life. from taking part in attempted rape in the comics, he's desensitized to this. he knows it's illegal, but doesn't truly believe there's a real issue. just submit to simon and act as a fleshlight for him, so he can watch porn while having an outlet.

simon's cock aches all the time, and if he doesn't jerk off at least once a day, he's left trembling, almost nauseous as he feels jittery. he'll rape your mouth, holding you down while watching porn. might make his own porn too, that's how far gone he is.

he'll pass out from his orgasm, after dragging it out for hours, pained and aching.

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everythingisconstant · 20 days

Text

your month = your song <cpt. John Price ver.>

songs describing your relationship with captain John Price based on your month of birth! (+ some extra lyrics)

Ghost's version

Just imagine this man in a white robe on sunny saturday morning, sippin' his dark black coffee and singing these lyrics to you... I think we all can agree that these songs are so Price coded and he sings and dance with you to them anytime

January

"Everlasting love" by Love Affair

"Open up your eyes, then you'll realize here I stand with my everlasting love

Need you by my side, girl you'll be my bride

You'll never be denied everlasting love"

February

"Can't help falling in love" by Elvis Presley

"Like a river flows surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes, some things are meant to be

Take my hand, take my whole life, too

For I can't help falling in love with you"

March

"Cheek to cheek" by Frank Sinatra

"Heaven, I'm in heaven

And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak

And I seem to find that happiness I seek

When we're out together swinging cheek to cheek"

April

"Stan by me" by Ben E. King

"When the night has come and the land is dark

And the moon is the only light we'll see

No, I won't be afraid, oh, I won't be afraid

Just as long as you stand

Stand by me"

May

"Careless whisper" by George Michael

"We could have been so good together

We could have lived this dance forever

But now, who's gonna dance with me?"

June

"Put your head on my shoulder" by Paul Anka

"Put your head on my shoulder

Hold me in your arms, baby, squeeze me, oh so tight

Show me that you love me, too"

July

"Good old-fashioned lover boy" by Queen

"I can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things

We can do the tango, just for two

I can serenade and gently play on your heart strings

Be your Valentino, just for you"

August

"Fly me to the moon" by Frank Sinatra

"Fill my heart with song and let me sing forevermore

You are all I long for, all I worship and adore

In other words, please be true

In other words, I love you"

September

"Just the two of us" by Grover Washington, Jr.

"To make those rainbows in my mind when I think of you sometime

And I wanna spend some time with you

Just the two of us, we can make it if we try

Just the two of us"

October

"Wouldn't it be nice" by The Beach Boys

"Maybe if we think and wish and hope and pray, it might come true

Oh, baby, then there wouldn't be a single thing we couldn't do

Oh, we could be married, and then we'd be happy

Oh, wouldn't it be nice?"

November

"Sway" by Dean Martin

"Other dancers may be on the floor

Dear, but my eyes will see only you

Only you have the magic technique

When we sway I go weak"

December

"Oh, pretty woman" by Roy Orbison

"Pretty woman walkin' down the street

Pretty woman, the kind I'd like to meet

Pretty woman, I don't believe you, you're not the truth

No one could look as good as you"

#cod men #cod mwii #cod mw2 #captain john price #john price #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader

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keeganbrainmush · 1 year

Text

141 + Vaqueros love language. ; Gender Neutral Reader

❥i have baby fever and i am extremely hormonal right now i might accidently include angst ❥bulletpoints/drabbles ; gender neutral reader ; no nsfw mentioned, minors dni. ; Fluff! ❥i need to organize my playlist cuz wtf is mitski doing making me cry for after i was just dancing my ass off in my room to Shakira

Cpt. John Price

Words of affirmation all the way through.

He loves you and wants you to know it. He'll be saying ' I love you 's and ' You're so beautiful. ' whenever you're both alone.

Says it with such an amazing smile you fall in love with him all over again.

Always tells you how you did so good, even in a non sexual way. He'd never want you to be insecure about your looks, intelligence or skills. John will always make sure of that.

Simon " Ghost " Riley

Gift giving

He's never been much of a talker, giving you more and more compliments further into the relationship.

So to make up for the lack of his voice, he'll buy you anything.

Literally anything.

If you ever stared at something alittle to long in the store, bet your ass he'll be handing it to you soon.

John " Soap " MacTavish

Physical Touch

Have you seen this man.

He has to be holding your hand anywhere in public or even having him touch shoulders with you on a rollercoaster or anywhere sitting next to him is enough for him.

When you're just talking to someone else he'll pull your hand into his and just rub his calloused fingers over the ridges of your fingers.

When you both are home alone he is the touchiest person ever.

Will be laying on top of you and just relaxing and on the verge of sleep when you run your hand through his hair.

Kyle " Gaz " Garrick

Acts of Service

He's like a little service dog.

Would and will do anything for you.

Not because he thinks you're not independent or need someone to depend on, but because he doesn't like the idea of you working if he can help it.

Especially when you're sick.

If you were ever to get sick you would NEVER leave your best unless its to leave for the bathroom. Insists on doing everything for you.

Alejandro Vargas

Physical Touch

He would only nuzzle his face into your neck with his arms wrapped around your waist as you'd cook or do something else.

In public he'd always have a hand around your waist, shoulders or on your hips.

Alejandro can get jealous easily, lets face it. He wants everyone to know he's yours and your his.

When he's driving he is the type to put his hand on your thigh casually.

Rodolfo " Rudy " Parra

Quality time

He feels empty when you and him haven't spent time together.

Likes to go out to a restaurant or anywhere you'd like.

But he is very patient, staying up late if you had been surprised with overtime at work and needed a nice massage when getting home.

Anything can count as quality time for him, from laughing at dinner or going to a whole new place to visit together.

As long as you're happy around him, he's happy.

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chxrrylime · 1 year

Text

❝ soap pun. ❞

GHOST ANON REQUEST IS NEXT!! I just could not get this out of my fucking head...

Soap x FTM!Reader ↪ 1892 words — 18+ / SMUT.

Content tags — trans male submissive reader, cis male dominant Soap, unsafe sex, fem terms used for trans male reader’s genitals, mild overstimulation, referenced/implied transphobia, reference to a interrogation/torture scene, mention of pregnancy, vaguely established relationship, Cpt. Price’s trans ex-girlfriend, cunninglingus, pussy worship, very mild breeding kink, mild size kink, penetrative sex, and vaginal sex.

You and Soap had gotten rather close over the last few weeks or so—ever since he nearly compromised the mission in El Sin Nombre’s compound (the one you’d insisted on going with him on) just because of Valeria getting a little handsy with you following her purred “I like this one.”

She hadn’t appreciated Soap growling to stay away from you, and in all honesty Soap hadn’t planned on saying anything until the words were out of his mouth. It wasn’t until after he realized he’d been jealous. Protectively so. Luckily, things had worked out, and the two of you escaped with El Sin Nombre relatively unharmed.

However, Soap wasn’t a man to sit and wait on those types of feelings. After things had died a bit down with the Al Qutala–Narcos–Russians fiasco he’d pursued you, and you’d happily let him.

It was really the same old same old, just without the rest of the squad. The two of you at the bar together, or playing poker in either of your quarters. A few nights spent in each other's cots. You’d kissed a few times, heatedly made out once. Testing the waters.

Of course, until now. Johnny had hit the shower after sparring with Ghost and couldn’t stop thinking about you—had marched his way right to your quarters. It was late, but not late enough for you to be asleep.

You hadn’t had the chance to tell Soap about your… situation. Price was the only one who knew taskforce wise, and he made sure it stayed a need-to-know basis type of thing. Doctors and certain higher-ups and the like.

But Price accommodated you. Let you use his private shower so you wouldn’t be subjected to the group ones. Said he’d had a girlfriend years and years ago that had been trans—said he’d started and ended enough bar fights protecting her, and that he wasn’t particularly inclined to be throwing fists in the task force if he could avoid it. Not that he suspected any of the close knit soldiers would, but there were friends he’d had back then he’d thought the same about, only for them to end up in a bloody pile on the floor.

You hadn’t really had found a good moment to tell Johnny. You knew he was bisexual, so odds were in your favor, right? He seemed like a pretty laid back guy. Live and let live, maybe, ‘long as you weren’t hurting anybody. But there was always that niggling fear that he wouldn’t be into it, or that he’d be entirely repulsed, or that he’d hurt you.

And so it isn’t until he’s lowering down your body, trailing kisses over your shirt-clad chest, making his way down to your crotch, that you start to feel anxious.

“You don’t seem as excited—getting a little shy here,” Soap chuckles, nuzzling his stubbled cheek where your packer lumps in your pants.

“Shut up,” you shoot back light-heartedly.

“I’m teasin’. Takes a lil’ bit to get you there, huh?”

“You could say that,” you breathe.

“I do love myself a challenge,” he smiles, leaning back to quickly tug your pants and boxers down in one swoop. The packer of course goes with it, and you hold your breath, staring at the wall caught between desperately wanting to see Soap’s reaction and being too terrified to know.

“Fuckin’ hell…” he groans. You jolt slightly, shivering as a thick calloused thumb swipes curiously through your folds, “damn beautiful, this. You just get better n’ better, love.”

“You don’t mind?” You eye him warily, mind going a little fuzzy already from how he continues to thumb just above your mound.

“You know my preferences. It’s just the best of both worlds, yeah? Lovely braw like you with an even prettier pussy—shite, uh, if those type o’ words are, y’know, fine with you,” he tacks on, demeanor shifting to something a little more nervous, like he’s worried he might’ve offended you. The thought makes you smile.

“I don’ mind, Johnny,” you murmur, looking up at him eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed.

Johnny smiles soft, eyes tracing back down to your folds, his smile turning into a sharp grin as a thick glob of slick leaks from your hole and between your cheeks.

“Aye, I don’t think she minds either,” he chuckles, reaching down to spread your folds for a better view. He thumbs at your cocklet, staring enraptured. He’s never seen one before—a clit so engorged and thick. It looks so much more like a small little cock than a normal clit, and he curiously pulls the thick foreskin down over the little mushroom head before leaning down to lick at the sensitive little nub with the tip of his tongue, wondering if you’re just as sensitive there as a cis man.

He gets his answer when you gasp high and squeaky at the sudden overstimulation, his tongue swiping down beneath the ridge at the little bumps there. It makes you burn with pleasure, like a raw wound being dug at. Soap growls when you grip a hand tight in his mohawk, tugging hard at the strands. The vibrations make you moan in return, his mouth moving to envelop the rest of your cock in hot, wet suction, bobbing his head ever so minutely up and down the small length.

Soap looks pure blissed out, eyes—darkened by his enlarged pupils—staring up at you hazily, or fluttering shut as he moans and growls against your cunt, licking into your fluttering hole. His bulky arms are looped around your legs, hands holding hard onto the fat on the top of your thigh, grip squeezing and desperate.

The assault on your pussy quickly crescendos, the overwhelming heat in your lower tummy bursting as you rock your hips against his mouth, facefucking him as you cum.

Soap fucking whimpers, lapping desperately at your leaking slick like he’s worried he can’t get it all into his mouth fast enough. He licks you long after you’ve finished, making your hips twitch with overstimulation.

When he finally pulls away, your body’s lax and loose, and you realize it’s probably exactly what he wants, and even though you know how loving and caring Johnny can be it still surprises you when he puts an arm either side of your head, holding his weight above you as he noses at your jaw until you bare your neck to him.

He presses sucking kisses to the flushed skin there, his hips rocking gently against your thigh. You can feel his hard cock through his jeans, how it jumps and twitches in the fabric everytime you whimper or moan from his attention.

He pulls back, hand gently cupping your chin to make you look up at him. He smiles so, so soft. It makes your heart flutter and drop.

“Would you wanna go further with me, love?”

You hum, hand in his short hair again to pull him closer to you, mumbling a “fuck yes,” as your lips collide. He groans, kissing you slow and forceful—with an intent you can’t quite decipher.

“Good boy,” he rumbles.

You can feel, can hear, as he starts to try and shimmy out of his pants without separating your mouths. You worm your arm down to grab at his wrist and he pauses, looking up at you with questioning eyes.

“Leave them on?”

He smiles.

“Anything you want.”

He sits up, reaching down to go and pull himself out, but you stop him again. You sit up with him, which he didn’t quite expect. Then you’re tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“Off,” you demand. He happily obliges you, lifting his arms to help you pull it off.

You’re immediately on him, hands cupping his weighty pecs, thumbing at his pert nipples. He bites his lip, pectoral muscles flexing as he arches into the touch.

You lean forward to lick at his nipple, taking the hard bud into your mouth to suck hard. He groans, a hand resting gently at the back of your head, neither pushing nor pulling.

“That’s damn good,” he groans, low and rough. You hear the shuffle of fabric and open your eyes, pulling back to see Soap’s cock, thick and hard and dripping as he furiously strokes himself, biting back his gravelly noises.

“Johnny,” you purr. He opens his eyes—doesn’t remember having closed them—and meets yours half-lidded and drunk, “fuck me already.”

He steadies the hand on his cock, holding it tight at the base as his free hand gently pushes at your chest to lay back. He positions himself, hauling you into his lap with only one hand on your hip. He slaps his cock against your mound, groaning at the wet crack that emits.

“Condom?” He grunts—sounds out of it. Less than an afterthought as he starts to gently slide his cock between your slick folds.

“No,” you grunt, arching your hips until you feel his cockhead catch on your hole, “can’t knock me up.”

“Christ, isn’t that a thought,” he huffs with a smile, starting to press his hips forward, your muscles still lax from your orgasm providing little resistance.

“Fucckk,” Soap groans out as he slides into the hilt, “mmm, y’little cunt’s squeezin’ me so tight…”

“Fucking hell, Johnny—“ you gasp out at his words, back arching and hips pressing down, feeling how the thick girth of his base spreads your entrance that ever slight bit more.

He starts to rock his hips, quickly picking up a brutal pace that has you clawing at his back. He shivers at the thought of the other’s seeing the markings later in the showers. Wonders if they’ll be able to tell who did it. He sucks a hickey onto your shoulder for good measure.

“Listen to ‘er squelch,” he growls, teeth bared against your throat as your face heats. He’s right, though—the obscene, wet sounds of your pussy adjusting to his massive girth sends a thrill through the both of you.

You’re unbelievably wet, slick gushing out of you nonstop. He can feel it against his balls every time they slap against your ass, and they draw up tighter at the sensation each time.

Soap’s rambling something in scots against your ear, voice deep and gravelly as he rocks into you. The denim of his jeans rubs your thighs deliciously raw, cunt squeezing tight around the other’s cock from the onslaught of sensations.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, though not unexpected. It rocks through your body, vision whitening as your hole spasms around Soap’s pulsing length. He shouts your name as he cums mere seconds after, burying to the hilt, thick ropes of spend filling your insides, hot and sticky.

He groans through it, hips rocking jarringly as your pussy coaxes every last drop from him. He stays buried in you, even as he softens, carefully resting his weight upon you with a satisfied moan. You pet at his hair, the both of you coming down from your highs ever so slowly.

Soap sniffs, pets at your hip, and glances up at you through thick lashes.

“When I pulled your pants down? There was a good second there I’d thought your pecker had fallen off,” he grins.

You push him off of you with a laugh and he tackles you back down, struggling to kiss you through the both of your wide smiles.

#modern warefare 2 #mw2 2022 #john mactavish x reader #modern warfare #soap x reader #mine #smut #trans male reader

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fandomsnstuff · 6 months

Text

Look at me posting before 10pm (i work evenings lmao) anyway,

@taznovembercelebration

Day 8: super au/cooking

Angus McDonald is Spiderman. It's a pretty new gig, but he thinks he's doing okay. His secret identity is totally intact, so that's a win.

Read it on AO3

Angus lands in the street on his feet, the criminals he was pursuing trapped against the brick wall in front of him with an obscene amount of web. He wants nothing more than to take his mask off and get a breath of fresh air, but the wail of sirens is already on top of him. Cpt. Captain Bane steps out of the first car and says, "what the hell happened here?"

"Just me doing your job for you," he quips. "Same old song and dance."

Bane sneers at him. "I don't need a child to do my job for me."

"Then you need to be faster," he tosses and catches the vial he retrieved, "crime isn't going to wait for you."

Angus can see him eyeing it, the corrupt motherfucker. "What've you got there, Spiderman?"

He knows exactly what it is, but he shrugs. "Some project the Institute's working on." He jabs his thumb towards the perpetrators that the other cops are cutting down from the webs, "pinky and the brain back there don't even know what it is. They just took the first thing they saw and ran."

It's a highly experimental elixir that's supposed to allow the person who drinks it to become a powerful specter if their meat body dies. Lup and Barry aren't supposed to talk about it, but they really can't help themselves when they're in good company.

Bane holds out a hand, "hand it over."

"Uh," the last thing he wants to do is give him something from the Institute. Let alone something like this. Angus has been on Bane's case for years, well before he became Spiderman a few weeks back. "You know I think I better return it myself."

Bane opens his mouth to respond, but is interrupted by a shout of, "holy shit!"

They look, and Lup stands just down the street, her hair wild and face flushed. She's out of breath as she walks up to them and says, "I just ran… like five blocks…" she looks at Angus, "I only caught some of that fight, but that was amazing."

"Thank-" he clears his throat and tries to subtly deepen his voice, "thank you Dr.- uh- ma'am." Spiderman's never met Lup, he shouldn't know her last name. Although she has been in the paper, so maybe it would've been fine. Anyway, "I believe this belongs to you," he holds the vial out to her.

She smiles wide and grabs it, "it's intact!"

Barry catches up to her, huffing and puffing. "I can't run a city block like I used to," he groans.

Lup pats him on the back and says, "bear, look," showing him the vial.

"No way," he looks at Angus, "you got it back in one piece."

"I'm nothing if not careful, sir," he says, still trying to modify his voice. If they recognize him, he's so fucked.

"Dr. Bluejeans," Bane says, "I'm going to need you to hand that over," he reaches for the vial, "it's evidence."

Barry draws his hand back, "it's top secret Institute research. It's not going anywhere but back to the lab."

"It's been involved in a crime, it needs to come back to the precinct."

"Why?" Lup takes half a step in front of Barry. "You've got the criminals wrapped up in a bow. You didn't even need to do anything."

"Ma'am-"

"Dr. Taaco."

He sighs irritably. "Dr. Taaco, we're required to do a full investigation, which includes gathering evidence. That vial was stolen, so it's evidence."

"And you can come to the Institute on Monday with a warrant for it. For now, we need to take it back."

Bane clenches his fists. "Let me escort you," Angus interrupts. The adults all look at him. "You know," he says, "just in case."

Bane says, "absolutely not-"

"Sure," Lup says, "you can escort us."

"He's a child," Bane protests.

"He's Spiderman," Barry says. "He rescued our research while chasing criminals through the city, I'm sure he can protect it while we're just walking up the street."

Lup slings an arm around his shoulders and starts leading him away before Bane can argue any further. As they walk up the street back towards the lab, she and Barry talk about how the whole night shook down for them. They were working late, and had taken a break. They didn't hear the thieves enter or break anything, but the alarms started blaring, and they saw them running out. They gave chase, and saw him, Spiderman, swing in and apprehend them.

"Which reminds me," Lup says once they reach the Institute, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine." They got a few good hits on him, but nothing that won't heal by morning (thank you, nuclear spider powers). "You two should put that vial back and head home. It's late."

"We could say the same to you," Barry says. "What are you, like, fifteen?"

"I'm eighteen." He's super not eighteen, he's exactly two weeks away from his sixteenth birthday.

"Right." Neither of them look convinced.

"Well you're safe back at your lab," he laughs nervously, "I should be going. Stay safe!" He blindly shoots a web and takes off in whatever direction it takes him. He swings a good way down a random street before stopping on top of a building to get his bearings, and he heads home.

He lands on the fire escape just outside his window, and opens it slowly. It cooperates tonight, and doesn't screech too loudly as the old wood slides up. He crawls into his bedroom and tears his mask off, taking a deep breath of fresh air. He creeps to his door and cracks it open, listening for any activity within the apartment. It's quiet, and all the lights are off. He shuts the door again. He doesn't bother to turn on a light as he peels his suit off, he's found that he can see quite well in the dark nowadays.

He changes into pajamas. He longs to take a shower, but it's nearing 1am, and Taako's a pretty light sleeper. He doesn't want him to question why he's taking a shower so late.

His stomach grumbles, and he sees visions of the leftover pizza he knows is in the fridge. He creeps out of his room and down the hall to the main living area. His attention is zeroed in on the fridge, so he jumps out of his skin when a light suddenly turns on.

"You know, if you were going to be a vigilante, the least you could've done is tell me first."

"Taako, I- what-"

Taako's sitting in an armchair, arms crossed, looking very displeased. "It's polite to tell your guardian what you're up to, Angus."

He laughs nervously. "I'm not-"

"Oh, you're not? You start acting all sketchy and sneaking out, and a masked spider-themed vigilante shows up not even a week after you visited Lup and Barry's lab that, among other things, works with what?"

Angus knows when he's been had. "...spiders?"

"Spiders!"

Silences stretches between them, and Angus hangs his head. "I'm sorry, Taako."

Taako sighs and stands. "I'm not mad. I just need to know where you go. Because if–" his fist clenches, "if you don't come home, or if you get hurt, I need to know."

"I'm sorry," he tries to blink away the burn of tears in his eyes, "I just wanted to protect you. All of you."

Taako puts a hand on his shoulder, and he meets his eyes. "You don't need to protect us. We can protect ourselves just fine."

"Okay," he whispers.

"Are you hungry?"

His lip quivers, "I'm so hungry."

Taako smiles and squeezes his shoulder. "It takes a lot of energy to be a superhero and a growing boy. Sit, I'll make you a couple grilled cheeses."

"I wanted-"

"The pizza, I know. You can have that while you wait."

He sits at the dining table as Taako moves about the kitchen. He slides the box with half a pizza still in it to him, then works on making two grilled cheese sandwiches. Angus devours the pizza and is halfway through his first sandwich when he asks, "does anyone else know?"

"Oh yeah, we all suspected."

"So Lup and Barry talking to me tonight like they didn't know me was total bullshit."

Taako laughs, "she called me as soon as you left them, pumpkin. Told me she was one-hundo percent sure that you're Spiderman."

He sighs in exaggerated annoyance. "No one can have a damn secret in this family!"

#taz fic #angus mcdonald #taako #taz #lup #lup and barry were taking a break to either sleep or make out #but either way their ghost gunk still got stolen #but never fear #angus is here

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