#John is suddenly the helpful black man

[otto-s-alskling]

John Price X Reader

Fluff. Just. Freaking cotton ball fluff.

Captain John Price was never one to go aggressively court a lady, no no. He's too old fashioned for that Gen Z energy. But he definitely is one for the long game. Always praising you casually with "Nice job" and "Well done" and "Couldn't have done it without ya." Which slowly evolved to "That's great, sweetheart" to more questionable ones like "Nice one, Lovie." It lowkey made you wonder how many endearments can one man use before he uses "that phrase."

It was hard to know when really. It was a slow night at the office and Price was busy with the last of the paperworks. Of course, the little sweetheart that you are, you stayed behind as well and brought him coffee.

"Hi, Cap... Thought you'd want a bit of coffee for a lil pick-me-up?"

Price smiled at the sweet gesture, immediately putting out the cigar that he had and waving away the smoke that linger.

"Thanks, Lovie. Can you put it here?"

You nodded and approached his desk, putting the cup of coffee (black with just a bare hint of sugar to cut the full bitterness) when he gestured for you to come closer a bit. I complied, glancing at the files that he needed a bit of help with, some french files that needed translation. Being the linguistics expert, you immediately moved to his side.

You were looking down on the papers to try to read it when his hand landed on your waist, making you sit on the armrest of his chair as you translate the papers for him. That's how you worked that night, sitting on the armrest with his arm around your waist on the last one hour you two are there, his thumb drawing circles on your waist as you diligently translate the papers on his tablet there.

This became a routine until one night he just straight up pulled you into his lap when he was extremely tired, using your back and shoulder as his pillow and his arms are wrapped around your waist tightly. You let the poor Captain be, your heart unable to say no, not when he asked oh so nicely to use you as a pillow for a bit. So he snoozed as you sat on his lap, trying not to think too much of it as you worked on the tablet. You did suggest him sleeping in the couch on his office but he didn't want that because that meant not being close to you. He doubted that you'd want to let him cuddle you at that stage anyway, so he was fine with this.

Thus the new addition to your routine. He'd get you on his lap at wee hours at night, both of you working, sometimes him napping, and that's basically it... For now anyways. It got a few eyebrows raised, especially to Gaz who's curious on how slow can a slow burn be. And you never get up from his lap either unless he had to actively talk with the other person on the room. You just stay on his lap, perched like a pretty little cat as you type and whoever was delivering some paperwork to Price would see it and you just... Don't seem to care, especially when Price tightens his hold whenever anyone arrive.

Then came a time when YOU were the one exhausted and against better judgement, fell asleep on his lap, curled up on him upon his insistence. This one really takes the cake because some Taskforce members, Gaz, Soap and Ghost had to be there for a small discussion and had to awkwardly talk in hushed voices because Price refused to wake you up and maybe convince you to go to bed. No, no, that would mean you'd be far away from him and he wants you to get used to being with him all the time. Gaz fought a snicker halfway into the discussion when you nuzzled closer to Price and he blushed. The man himself blushed and you had no clue it was happening.

Lowkey, it was entertaining and kind of weird to see, the three members choosing to face each other instead so they wouldn't have to get caught up in trying to stare at you and him and wonder if you're even aware of the Captain's feelings or if you're just going with the flow with him.

Things did suddenly change when the team got back from a hard mission and Price immediately looked for you after getting rid of his gear. He found you in his office, doing some filing. After locking the door, he just pulled you into his arms and laid down on the couch with you with a soft gruff "Come here please". You looked at him as he held onto you, his head on your chest, before slowly hugging him back, running your fingers through his hair as his ragged breaths changed slowly and he relaxed, the tension leaving him as you gently played with his hair.

It felt intimate and reassuring to him, and he just stayed there, using you as a pillow as he tried to forget and let go whatever it was that happened on the field. For the first time, you two actually cuddled and fell asleep together, the exhaustion claiming Price fast while you slowly dozed off after watching him sleep for some time.

After a few hours, he stirred awake. Price knew that this is wrong. That he is your superior and that he shouldn't even be looking at you like this but how can he not when you looked so sweet sleeping underneath him? He couldn't help but smile, couldn't help but plant a soft kiss on your cheek before going back to sleep again and hope you wouldn't mind the surprisingly high amount of comfort that he's getting just from holding you close like this.

This man has me on a chokehold and I've watched too many shows and movies with him in it. #shameless

#call of duty #john price #captain price #price x reader #price #captain john price #cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw3

[rodolfoparras]

Pairing: John Price x Male reader

Cw: sexual tension

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Sergeant,” Price says as you search for the shaving tools located in his very small bathroom.

You just wave him off with your hand, silently cheering when you find what you were looking for before instructing him to take a seat on the toilet lid.

Price is quick to do as you say, before proceeding to try and undo the buttons on his shirt with his injured hand.

Eventually with some struggles he gets the shirt unbuttoned but has no success in taking it off.

“Here let me help” you say standing so close your knees knock together as your warm hands gently push his away.

Price only manages a nod in response trying to ignore the heat creeping up his neck ears and cheeks as you help take off his clothing.

“Are you cold?” You say, probably noticing the goosebumps rising on his skin.

“No just get on with it” he grunts out, tipping his chin up.

You just chuckle at his antics before you lather up his face, watching the grays in his beard get coated in shaving cream.

“Just the chin and -“

“And a bit of the cheeks I know” you say with a playful smile on your face as you take the razor in your hand.

“You’re one grumpy old man you know?” You say with a chuckle, eyes flickering up to see the look on his face only to realize just how close you are standing to the older man.

For a second you feel yourself getting lost in those cerulean eyes; the way his black lashes fan against his cheeks, and the way his rosy lips stand out amongst the white foam lathered onto his skin.

“Tilt your head up a bit more” you say voice breathy and strained, forcing yourself to break the eye contact to focus on the task at hand.

He does as you say and although you’re no longer looking at him, you can feel the way his eyes follow your movements as you gently drag the razor across his cheek

Once you’re done with his cheeks. you move down to his chin, slowly but surely uncovering a faded scar on his skin.

He must’ve noticed you looking at it because he starts to speak

“I got it when I first enlisted” he says voice tinted with embarrassment “fell face first, ended up with a big scar right on my face, thought a beard would do a good job at covering it up”

Before you can even register what you’re doing your thumb caresses the scarred skin.

Your eyes flicker up to meet his own and once again you loose yourself in them.

For a second it feels like he’s leaning in closer because before you know of it you’re a hair away from his lips and you completely forget what you’re doing in the first place because suddenly your hand jerks and you’re drawing blood on his cheek.

Price hisses and quickly pulls away.

“Shit! Sorry sorry,” you say, watching the way he quickly walks over to the sink.

What you don’t see is the way he tries to blink back the haze from his eyes, the way he prays and hopes the cool water is enough to sooth his blush and the way his pulse is roaring in his ears as he cleans the blood of his cheek.

After wiping his face completely he returns back to his seat.

“I’m really so-“

“It’s fine,” he grunts out in response “Just get it done and over with sergeant,” he says, this time avoiding your gaze and nervously tapping on his leg

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

[quin-ns]

ok ok ok but what about fem!reader going missing with jb and sarah at the end of season one and coming back to find that jj has her name tattooed on his arm when he thought she was gone

okay I’m actually so obsessed with this I think it triggered something in my brain (the angst aNd fluff??) 😳 irl I won’t advocate for getting names tattooed but in fiction? To have a man that dedicated-

Permanent (JJ Maybank x Reader)

The last thing you expected was the run into your best friends in Charleston. It seemed like something out of a dream, but it was really them.

You couldn’t imagine what it must’ve been like for all of them. They must’ve thought you were dead the way the boat collapsed. Hell, you thought you were a goner until you, Sarah, and John B were rescued. Of course that didn’t turn out as good as it could’ve, but you were on your way home now and that’s what mattered.

You didn’t even get to speak, JJ was slamming into you with the biggest hug you’d ever received in your life. Your boyfriend held you tight, one arm locked around your waist, while the other cradled your head against him like you might slip away.

It had happened before.

Chaos of the reunion was all around you, but you were focused on just holding the love of your life.

You felt two more bodies collide into yourself, Kie and Pope’s voices overlapping as they joining in the hug after they reencountered John B and Sarah.

Tears of joy pricked in your eyes as you all finally parted.

John B stole JJ’s attention pretty quickly, pulling him into a hug. The sight made you smile, and it was the same when JJ and Sarah shared a hug while you got solo hugs from Kie then Pope. They hadn’t gotten that close, but it was safe to say you all missed each other.

When you all seperated, JJ turned back to you.

“I can’t believe you’re here right now,” he spoke first, sounding both awestruck and overwhelmed with joy.

JJ’s hands reached to grab yours, his gorgeous blue eyes stayed locked with yours. God, you missed those eyes.

You couldn’t help but laugh, and he joined you.

“What are you guys even doing here? I…” you didn’t know why you glanced down, but you did. Something on JJ’s left arm made you trail off.

In large, black ink, your name was scrawled across the inner side of his forearm.

Your jaw dropped and you looked up at him.

“I hate to interrupt, but we should go,” Pope urged.

You wouldn’t get to ask him about the tattoo until you got back to the Outer Banks. A lot of shit had gone down, not just on your, Sarah’s, and John B’s end, but back home too.

As you sat around the Chateau patio, you exchanged stories, all jumping in randomly over one another to add details or ask questions because so much had happened.

As you sat by JJ’s side on the couch—he was basically melded to your side. You couldn’t have been happier. Your hands were laced together, reminding one another that you were really here.

You kept getting distracted by his arm. It was your name in a tattoo. A permanent tattoo.

As it got later and later, your friends started to trickle inside to sleep. Eventually, it was just you and JJ.

“Do you like it?” he asked suddenly, interrupting as you recounted the way Sarah had snuck you all into a fancy hotel. Your eyes snapped up to his, realizing you’d been looking at the tattoo again. “I know you wanna ask.”

He didn’t seem offended or annoyed, there was actually a hint of a smirk on his face. He’d been wearing that look all day, and it was usually paired with murmurs of him saying how happy he was to have you back home.

“Did it hurt?” you wondered, avoiding the real question.

JJ laughed, but answered with, “Not really.”

“You got my name on your arm,” you stated bluntly. Not mad, just surprised. “Like, forever.”

The expression on his face got a little more serious. You saw his gaze fall briefly to his arm and he swallowed.

“I thought you were dead,” JJ recalled distantly. “And I thought… I didn’t know what I was gonna do without you guys—without you.”

You frowned at his confession, but didn’t speak yet. He was struggling to find the words, but you knew he had more to say. You hadn’t had a chance to talk about it yet.

“It was awful,” he continued grimly, eyes finding yours. You wished you could wipe the frown off of his face because it broke your heart. “Everyday was awful. And if I didn’t do something, I…” he shook his head. “It made me feel better. I got to have you with me everyday in some way.” JJ rubbed his arm, smiling sadly. “You know I always loved your name.”

You laughed tearfully at that, picking up on the lightheartedness in his tone, wiping your eyes. You didn’t even realize droplets had formed.

“That’s so sweet, JJ.”

“I love you,” JJ told you. “And I’m so fucking happy your back.” His smile turned more joyful. “And now I get to have you with me everyday for real.” He squeezed your hand. “Don’t even try to shake me, you’re not getting rid of me now.”

It was his turn to laugh, and you dramatically rolled your eyes at the deprecating humor. The hand that wasn’t holding JJ’s cupped the back of his neck. You pulled him into a loving, long overdue kiss.

When you parted, met his eyes again. You never wanted to look away.

“I love you, too,” you told him with a soft smile. “And I missed you every single day.”

“Same here,” JJ told you, a small smirk breaking out on his face. He held up his tattooed arm. “Clearly.”

You cut your own laugh off again as you pulled him back in for another kiss.

You were so happy to be home.

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank #outer banks #obx #request #quin-ns writing #asks

[mrshesh]

omg can you write how the 141 would react to fem reader (who never wears makeup or dresses up) who has to dress up for a mission at the club? AHGFJ i cant get this out of my head bro im weeping gaz would go RED

"how do i look?" - task force 141 x reader

overview: task force 141 reacting to you getting dolled up for a mission

pairing: task force 141 x fem reader, romantic

genre: fluff, spice

a/n: hi anon! YOU'RE SO RIGHT ABOUT GAZ 😭 i loooove this scenario a lot. thanks for the request! i hope you love it teehee :) (and omg johnny's eyes i'm giggling)

x simon "ghost" riley

When Simon’s assigned to go on this mission with you, he’s already cursing under his breath. Clubs have never been his forte–the loud music and crowded, drug and alcohol-filled atmosphere isn’t exactly something he’s comfortable with. 

And the fact that you’re supposed to go as his date isn’t helping his case either. 

Simon has always had a thing for you. He loves many things about you, but he adores that you stay true to yourself most of all. You always do what you want, never putting in unnecessary energy to please others. He can relate to that–it feels nice to have someone who understands. 

And that is one of the reasons why you never wear makeup or dress up. You don’t feel like you have to–not for yourself, not for anyone else. 

So he doesn’t know what to expect when he’s standing outside, waiting for you to finish getting ready so you can head out with him. 

He’s waiting anxiously, standing with his hands in the pocket of his black hoodie. He finds you beautiful either way, of course. You could be in the most ridiculous outfit known to man, and he’d still be completely enamored by you. But it’s only natural for him to get a reaction to you being all dolled up, right? Anyhow, he’s hoping that he won’t. 

“Sorry, I took so long!” You exclaim, running out to him after a few minutes, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

The second Simon looks up to meet your eyes, his eyes widen. You look so pretty, so new and confident. He has never seen you this dressed up before, so it’s still kind of weird to him, but you look so gorgeous he can’t take his eyes off you. 

“How do I look?” You ask, smiling at him and giving him a spin. 

He’s so grateful he’s wearing his mask, or else you would be able to see the intense blush he has on his face. 

“Good. Let’s go.” He simply says, looking you up and down before he walks to the driver's seat, trying so hard not to make his attraction to you obvious.

“Just good?” You keep poking at him, smirking as you pick up on his lingering gaze. It’s so undeniable that he’s checking you out. “I spent an hour on my makeup, Lt. I’d appreciate a compliment.” “Jesus Christ, Y/N.” He sighs, turning to you with his piercing cold gaze. But his look doesn’t make your body erupt in goosebumps like it usually would. His eyes are soft even though he’s glaring daggers at you. “You look beautiful. Now let’s go, soldier. We don’t have all day.” “Thank you, Lt.” 

Even though he looks fine on the outside, he’s screaming inside. He nearly ran over the curb on the way to the club–that’s how much his mind wandered. 

He’s suddenly very protective over you, as well. He knows you can handle your own, but if any man looks at you too long in the club, he’s looming behind you like your shadow, standing close to you as you walk through the crowd. 

He checks in on you constantly during the mission. “Anyone annoying you?” “You comfortable?” “Do you need help?” It’s not out of the ordinary for him to check in now and then during missions, but this? It’s almost getting excessive. 

After the mission, he’s much calmer and softer. He’s much like his usual self around you, yet he has an element of shyness weighing down on him. He almost seems flustered. That aura will never leave him as long as he has the image of your outfit in his head.

x john "soap" mactavish

When Johnny’s assigned to go on this mission with you, saying he’s excited is an understatement. 

He’s going to get to go on a mission with you? And you’re going to be all dolled up? It’s like a dream. 

You’re always beautiful to him - like you got sculpted with such care and thought you could present as the main attraction at a museum. He’s always been a gawker, staring at you whenever he can, just drinking your features and imagining what it would be like to hold you. 

He will stare no matter what - you’re that stunning to him, and no tactical gear or scrubs could ever deduct from your beauty. But he has never seen you in clubbing attire before. It’s always refreshing to see you in different styles of clothes and disguises. It humanizes you. 

So, best believe he’s thrilled that he will see you with a flattering outfit and cute makeup. 

He’s standing outside of your door as you get ready. He’s waiting for you so you can go to the mission briefing together. Unbeknownst to him, Johnny won’t be able to focus on the briefing with you next to him. 

“You done yet, lass?” He taps his foot on the ground, grumbling as he leans against the wall by your door. “Yeah, give me a minute. They provided me with fuckin’ donut-scented perfume.” You sigh, making Johnny laugh a little. “Donuts smell good, though.” He shrugs. “Luckily…” 

“Okay, I’m ready.” You eventually step out, catching Johnny by complete surprise. He hoped he’d get a warning, a minute to prepare himself. 

And my God, he needs it. 

His jaw instantly drops at the sight of you. It’s safe to say you’ve left him speechless. You look so perfect, unlike anything he has ever seen. It almost feels corny to him–how starstruck you’ve got him.

After what feels like an eternity, he steps closer to you and gently holds your waist, his cheeks turning into a deep crimson color. 

“You look amazin’, lass.” He softly says, his rough hands feeling you up gently. “So beautiful.” He just can’t stop looking at you, his jaw still touching the floor as his eyes scan your flustered frame and face. “Thank you, John.” 

“I don’t even wanna go on the mission anymore. I just wanna look at you.” He purrs, his soft blue eyes meeting yours. “God, I wish.” You snicker, punching his shoulder playfully. “We’re already late to the briefing as is. We gotta move, Sergeant.” “Unfortunately.” 

There’s something so different about Johnny on this mission. The way he is with you is worlds apart from his attitude to everyone else. He’s as soft as a koala with you, clinging to you as you navigate around the booming club. He’s constantly whispering sweet nothings into your ear, praising you for doing the bare minimum. “You’re doin’ great, bonnie.” “Look at you… stunning.” “Aren’t you lookin’ pretty?” “Good job, beautiful.” 

But if only you can see how he’s glaring daggers at everyone else. Any man who steps too close for comfort to you needs to go through Johhny first. Nobody messes with you on his watch. He’s acting like your fucking guard dog–that’s how bad it is. 

After the mission… Good God, you’re in for it. 

Clingy™️. You thought he was clingy in the club? It is nothing compared to how much of a lost puppy he is around you now. He just wants to be around you and nobody else. 

x kyle "gaz" garrick

Kyle isn’t surprised John assigned him to go on this mission with you. You’re both young, efficient, and skillful. What better candidates are there for this?

He is, however, overjoyed. Going on missions alone with you will always be one of Kyle’s favorite things, the intimacy and romance of it all making his heart burst. But this? It is on a whole other level of romance to Kyle. Even if clubs aren’t fairytale-like, the context matters to him. He’s going to the club with you, as your date. How is that not romantic?

He has always loved your look. Not only is it sexy to him how authentic you look, but it has a level of vulnerability to it, which he adores. But he can’t help but wonder–how would you look glammed up? How would you look with a full face and a cute outfit? 

Well, he doesn’t have to wonder anymore. The time has come. 

“Hurry up, Kyle.” You grumble as you stand outside his room, continuously knocking on his door. Surprisingly, he’s putting a lot of effort into his appearance, so much so that he’s taking longer than you did to dress up. “Captain’s gonna come for our asses.” “You excited to see me, is that it?” “Shut up.” 

It takes him a few minutes to finally walk out, and as much as you are mesmerized by his appearance, it is nothing compared to his reaction to your new look. He is RED.

“Wow… you look good, Sergeant.” You give him a nod of approval, a cheeky smile painted on your face. Kyle’s sudden silence makes your eyes flicker to his own, only to be met by his awed expression. 

He takes all of you in, drinking in your appearance before his eyes meet yours. “Damn, soldier.” He whistles, stepping closer to you and giving you a twirl, erupting a hearty laugh from you. “You look great.” Even though his words are simple, they carry a palpable weight. “Thanks, Kyle. Now let’s go.” 

You instantly notice how handsy Kyle is, all of a sudden. He keeps his hand on the small of your back during the whole mission, his touch sending waves of warmth throughout your body. Your outfit hugs your curves perfectly, making it impossible for him to keep his hands away from you. You look stunning.

He even drags you onto the club’s dance floor, resting his hands on your hips and bringing you closer to him, your bodies swaying to the music. He insists it’s for blending into the crowd, but everybody knows he’s spewing complete bullshit. But you don’t mind. 

However, you two finished the mission with flying colors, your teamwork proving to be excellent once more. (Kyle is sure it’s because of the dancing.)

He has never put such thought and care into a mission report in his life. He’s secretly hoping John will assign him and you on more of these missions together. He just can’t get enough of this new look of yours. 

He still adores your usual air. Your laidback and natural beauty makes his heart skip a beat every time. But damn, your confidence in that club makes him lose his mind. 

He craves more of it.

x john price

John knows better than anyone how capable you are. How strong and essential you are to the team. He immediately assigns you to go on this mission because of your ability to complete your tasks flawlessly and smoothly. And who better to go on this mission with you than him?

He knows he’s doing this for the mission’s sake but still gets this unwavering guilt as he waits for you outside by the car. You’ve got this unique aura everyone’s drawn to, even if you aren’t everyone's taste. You’re so courageous and likable, so unapologetically yourself. There’s just something about you. He can’t help but like you. And he feels like he’s solely going on this mission with you because of his biased feelings–because he chose you two to go together. It’s so shameful. He’s your Captain, for fuck’s sake. 

“What’s got you stressing, Cap?” You break him out of his storm of thoughts when you walk towards him, looking more alluring than ever. He could look at you for hours. Your outfit hugs your curves perfectly, your makeup extenuates your features, and your scent makes you smell like you came straight from heaven. You look like a literal angel. There’s no denying that.

“Well, don’t you look breathtaking?” He gives you a soft smile, stepping closer to you and taking all of you in. “Ready to go?” He can’t let himself get too distracted. You’ve still got a mission to complete. It is proving to be more difficult than usual, though–not because of the objective itself but because of you. 

“Thanks, Captain.” You chuckle, nodding. “Yep. All ready.” 

Focusing on the road is rougher than it seems. With you sitting next to John, he can’t look anywhere but you. The mere sight of you is just killing him. 

Focusing on the mission isn’t as hard, but it’s still bothersome when he could be holding you in his arms, admiring your newfound beauty and look. He’s trying his hardest not to act possessive. To not be closer than he needs to be. Again–he has a job to get done.

But at the end of the day, unlike everyone else, he knows how to control himself and finish the mission quickly and efficiently. 

After the mission, however, you’re not off the hook. 

Since he’s your Captain, he needs to keep himself in check. Having a relationship with you is dangerous for you both, which is why he’s discreet with his favoritism and feelings. 

Now all of a sudden, he’s assigning you on far too many disguise missions, the ones that require you to get dolled up. Of course, he’s still so smitten by default. Like Johnny, he feels that no amount of imperfections can take away from your beauty. But seeing you in those dresses… that makeup… it does something to John. He can’t get enough of it. 

And obviously, he’s going with you on those missions. 

And suddenly, it’s not about the missions anymore but about you. John’s not doing this because you’re skilled–John’s doing this because it’s the closest he’ll ever get to being with you. 

#call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod x reader #call of duty mw2 #mw2 x reader #ghost mw2 #soap mw2 #mw2 price #mw2 gaz #mw2 fanfic #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #price x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #john price #task force 141 #tf 141 #task force 141 x reader #141 x reader #captain john price #captain price #gaz

[ghostbsuter]

Magicians way

A Zatara meets a Drake before the Young Justice-fication of Danny!

1/4 previous interactions

.・゜-: ✧ :-

The portal closes, and waddling in comes a teen in his PJ's, a space themed blanket thrown around his shoulders and hair dishevelled.

In all honesty, he looks like he'd just worked up and dragged himself here.

Probably what happened.

"Oh, so you get to call me at 4 am on a Friday night and when I do it it's suddenly a crime?" The teen scowls, glaring daggers at Constantine, who'd had told the big Bat he was going to call in reinforcement.

He didn't expect a child.

"Get over her shrimp," the man waves the teen over, throwing an arm around the blanked clad shoulders.

"Batsy, meet Danny. He's my kid."

Ah.

"Nice to meet ya," the kid yawns, literally dozing off on John's side. "'m gonna sleep."

At least the man seems somewhat regretting for pulling the kids from his impromptu nap?

"Sorry, kiddo, need some help here. Did Zee go hard on you during the day?"

Danny whines, but answers despite the disturbance. "Mom had to leave for a show, I didn't go along, ended up on an adventure that took a bit too much out of me."

John snorts, ruffling unruly black hair.

"One of the bat's birds will join us shortly. I needed a second opinion, minx helping?"

Interested, Danny peered up at his dad, raising a brow in question.

"There is a powerful entity currently free, I'm having difficulties identifying it." He explains. "Did anyone mess with Pandoras box? This feels like something not supposed to be on our side of existence."

Brows knitting together, he thinks. "No, I was the last and most recent one to have accidentally messed with her box." He admits. "But every monster has been contained. There shouldn't be one free, we would have noticed."

John hums, picking through his well used brown leather bag, grabbing a sack of ash.

"It doesn't feel like a demon, lest a fallen angel. It's unique in its own kind that I had to get you for help, it shares the same feeling as the curses inside of pandoras box."

Catching on, Danny stares. "You think one of her curses got away and formed a humanoid form, not much different from city spirits."

Nodding, golden glow follows the words the laughing magician speaks, answering his question with the usage of ash.

Danny looks away, knowing the spell already and meets the whites of a domino mask.

That's not batman.

Squinting, he recognises the vigilante.

That's Red Robin!

"Red Robin, right?" He asks, just to make sure.

Red Robin nods.

"Nice to meet you, heard some stuff, pretty cool in my opinion."

"What exactly did you hear."

"Stuff here and there." Is the vague answer, the bird only continued to watch him, slightly unnervingly.

"Well—"

"Kid! Got an answer!"

"Let's talk again, okay?"

He couldn't answer before danny left to go to constantine.

That was... weird.

"B, what just happened?"

Batman only shakes his head. Huh.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #Danny is the kid of John and Zatanna #fire meeting between Danny and Tim. #this is a prewuel if you will #he will have solo meetings netween thr core 4 #we start with tim #watching young justicr purely for cassie and barr #i need to stay true to her cant write badly knowing i could have doond better ay #ill sleep n9w #i should stop making so many stories oof #maybe thinking of finsihedimg ONE at least

[the-californicationist]

Good Fences (Fluffuary #04)

FEB04: Cheering Them Up

You had a boyfriend.

Keyword: had. 

Getting broken up with in the middle of the night was one thing, but having it be over a text message (all lowercase, no punctuation) was a whole new low. You knew it wasn’t going to last, but the suddenness of it was dreadful, as were the personal criticisms he decided to throw your way just to rub salt into the wound. 

your bodys just not doing it for me anymore

we could still hook up if you want just hmu

but not in bethesda obvi lol 

You weren’t sure what possessed him to say those things to you, but you had seen enough, so you blocked him.

Tear-stained and angry, you went outside to get some fresh air. You wrapped your blanket around you and stared up at the stars, trying to move on from that asshole as quickly as possible. 

Suddenly, you heard John’s sliding door open up. You turned to look at him, and he seemed just as startled to see you there. 

“Oh, hey… Hey,” he furrowed his brow, “What’s happened?”

You sniffled, trying to find your voice,

“Got dumped.” 

“What? Just now? It’s midnight,” he sat next to you, “Did he just leave?” 

You shook your head, dreading having to admit to the fact that you hadn’t even deserved a capital letter much less an in-person visit,

“Text message.”

You passed over your phone to let him experience the drama first-hand. As he read the messages, his face grew increasingly dark, almost scary. You couldn’t help but notice his attire while he read, and you felt insane for doing so. He was in running shorts and a cut-off tee shirt with some rock band’s logo fading and flaking on the front. You were supposed to be sad, but now you couldn’t stop staring at his very visible and extremely muscular arms and abs.

“You’re joking,” he handed you back the phone in disbelief.

You shook your head again and looked down at the tissue in your hands, trying to come up with something to say. 

“What a fuckin’ wanker.”

You laughed, nodding, and he cracked a smile. You let his voice wash over you like a salve, healing the hurt another man had caused, 

“Well, this calls for a bloody drink, don’t it?”

“Don’t think the bars will be open by the time I make it out,” you joked. You weren’t going out anywhere tonight. 

“Wait here,” he said, ducking back into his apartment.

He reemerged with a bottle of Scotch whisky and two glasses, pouring one for you and then one for himself, each equally generous. 

John tinked your glass and drank. You followed suit, albeit a bit more timidly. 

It burned. Then it spiraled into oranges and vanilla and honey. And then it burned again. You tried not to, but you made a face, and said,

“Wow, it’s good. Thanks.”

“Strong, hm?” He purred softly, pleased with his choice.

“Yeah, but still good,” you insisted.

“Don’t worry about those messages, love. Your body is doing wonders just how it is. He wants your reaction.”

You tried not to let the compliment linger in your mind for too long, but it was stuck in there like popcorn in your teeth. 

“I know,” you admitted, “And I wasn’t going to marry this guy or anything, but…”

“Still hurts.”

“Yeah.”

John was clipping and lighting a cigar to have with his drink, and you watched him as he worked. He still hadn’t bought that ashtray he’d promised, but he was using an old glass bowl for now. He smoked for a bit, sharing it with you wordlessly. Then, he took a long breath and gave you a droll look.

“What is the difference between a condom and a coffin?”

You laughed before he even gave you the punchline of the joke, shocked by its crudeness,

“What?” 

“You come in one and leave in the other.”

“John!”  

He snickered, listening to you laugh, turning a little red in the face as he did so. 

“Alright, alright,” he prepared another one for you, “What can you spell with P, E, N, I, and S?”

You raised your eyebrows at him, and shrugged, 

“Penis?”

He scoffed, 

“Spine, you filthy thing.”

You stayed outside talking and telling jokes long enough to see the black starfield give way to a pale pink morning, and before you knew it, half a bottle of whisky was gone. John had certainly worked his magic in you, and by the time you said goodnight and climbed back into your bed, you’d forgotten why you’d even been wasting your tears on a jerk like that in the first place.

Check out the schedule here.

AO3 Link

#the californicationist does fluff #fluffuary 2024 #fluffuary #john price fluff #john price #captain john price #captain price #john price x reader #john price x you #captain price x reader #captain price x you #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #cod #cod fanfiction #call of duty #call of duty fanfiction #cod mw2 #cod mwii

[misscinnamonroll16]

More brozone headcanons

Some of these are a little more mature than others, read at your own risk ig

John Dory drinks his coffee black

Bruce likes his coffee sweet with a little cream

Clay prefers a little sugar, a little cream

Floyd doesn't really like coffee, says it makes him jittery. He drinks tea with honey and a little milk. Ironically tea can have more caffeine than coffee

John Dory is bisexual/bi curious. Floyd catches him checking out some dude and calls him out on it

Bruce flirts with every girl he meets but in such a way that makes them wish he wasn't married

Each of the bros have caught Clay crying his eyes out bc of a book. JD instantly goes to comfort him and he accepts it. Bruce tried to understand what he's babbling about and comfort him. Floyd hugs him and cries with him. Branch is a little unsure and just kind of awkwardly pats him on the back

Clay curses in Spanish, but incorrectly.

Jd can sew

Bruce and JD have an unspoken competitions for who can come up with the worse dad joke

Floyd's favorite show was (and still is) SpongeBob

John swears so much

Clay was a clumsy kid, so JD always had bandaids on hand and he still does.

John Dory has a sixth sense for when his brothers are about to do something bad

When they were younger, JD did that annoying sibling thing of flicking their ears over and over again.

John tried to use the preschool rope method for keeping track of his brothers, especially at concerts

Branch, Clay and John have so many scars

Clay likes origami

JD can handle his alcohol, most of the time

The rest of the brothers have a harder time handing their alcohol

Someone calls Bruce a dilf and only Floyd knows what it means, he starts wheezing

Each of the brothers reactions to finding out that they're going to be a big brother (for the first time). John was so excited and happy, planning out everything him and his new sibling were gonna do (as much planning as a toddler can do). Spruce was intrigued, staring at Clay's bright yellow egg, trying to figure out if he was gonna like what came out. Clay was NOT HAPPY about being a big brother, he liked being the baby. Him and Floyd did not get along for like the first week until Floyd puked on John, then Clay was like "you're not so bad kid". Floyd was absolutely excited to be a big brother, like John but more, he had his older brothers to ask about how to be the best big brother he could.

Clay tried to get rid of Floyd and Branch by throwing them away and flushing down the toilet, luckily he didn't get very far.

When they were younger, John Dory used his height to his advantage, holding things out of reach and using heads as arm rests

John Dory has given himself stitches, set his broken bones and dislocated joints. After a particularly rough adventure, Branch comes to him asking for help with his wounds. John is suddenly a trained medical professional, giving him wonderful stitches and setting his dislocated shoulder.

All the younger bros still look up to JD but you'll never hear them say it.

Floyd was (and still is) scared of the dark

John teases Bruce, saying he never got to walk him down the aisle at his wedding

Floyd becomes the biggest whore if left unattended and drunk, flirting dirty with every man he encounters. He's half naked dancing on a bar to some raunchy song. JD or Bruce prompting throw him over their shoulder and try and sober him up

Clay is a funny drunk. He's telling dumb jokes to whoever will listen, most of the time they don't make sense. Non stop giggling. But if motivated will do stupid shit

Clay accidentally hurts himself and as JD is patching him up, he jokingly asks JD to "kiss and make it feel better." John knows he's joking but does it anyway. "Does it feel better Clay?" "yes."

Bruce has called some of his kids by his brothers' names. The older ones have been called 'john', 'john Dory', and 'jd'. When they pull pranks (the most frequent one) they're called Clay. When they're crying for no reason they're called Floyd. The younger ones have been called branch. For a little while they didn't know who those guys were but after a while their dad opened up to them

Bruce's kids were so excited to get to know their uncles. Bruce didn't talk about them much so when they showed up the kids were eager but they were a little distracted

#trolls #brozone #trolls clay #trolls floyd #trolls bruce #trolls john dory #branch trolls #trolls headcanon #trolls hcs #jd being a softy

[piratefishmama]

Fake It Till You Make It | Part 8

"Oh Steven..."

The view of Eddie was obstructed pretty quickly when Steve manoeuvred him behind him, turning fully to face his dad using his broader body to shield Eddie from view. “He’s—”

“Panicking. He’s panicking. I have eyes Steven. Lynda get this poor boy a glass of water would you?” A chair creaking from inside the room told them all his mother had gotten up to do as she was asked, and while that might have caused most to relax, Steve still stood his ground. A human blockade. “It’s okay son, you’re going to have to move eventually it might as well be now, he’s safe.”

“Is he?” Eddie rested his forehead against the centre of Steve’s shoulders, right at the base of his neck, just… rested there, Steve wouldn’t let anyone hurt him, it’d be okay.

“Well I’m not about to invite my son to send me to hospital, am I?” A wise choice, it seemed like Steve was fully prepared to do just that if necessary. “This house is safe for you both, and it always will be.” John stepped to the side a little, just enough to be able to see around Steve’s shoulder, although Steve was tempted to move into his way again, he’d put himself in the way of a train if it meant protecting someone else, Eddie was certain of it at that point “Eddie… was it?”

He’d overheard while Steve was talking to him. He knew his name. Eddie looked up, basically peeking over Steve’s shoulder. It was awkward, given they were almost the same height, but… he still felt safer there.

“Oh heavens, John step aside, you’re frightening the poor thing to death” And there was Lynda, nudging John aside with a tall glass of water in hand “Eddie, come on out from behind there,” as if ‘there’ wasn’t her damn close to six foot son “it’s okay” he was a grown man, yet he felt like he was seven all over again, hiding behind a couch away from the police who’d come to get his dad.

He’d only hidden because his dad used to tell him that if he was naughty the police would take him away, and he may have… coincidentally… drawn on his bedroom wall, he’d hidden it pretty well but… there were suddenly police bashing down the door!

Just so happened they were there for his father, who’d been doing much naughtier things.

Steve didn’t move, so that left the choice up to him. A choice he had to make, no matter how scary it was. He was there, there was no getting out of the plan now. They’d seen him, he couldn’t make a run for it… or he could but he’d never able to look Steve or Dustin in the face ever again, which left only one real option.

He took a deep breath, placed a hand on Steve’s bicep, and stepped out from behind him. Steve’s hand was very quick to find his, holding him, grounding him, a tether to keep him stable and god it felt nice to have it there, warm, and secure, fingers perfectly slotted between his own. He could only imagine what a pair they looked though.

The King and the Court Jester.

The Jock and the Freak.

Perfect and Completely Imperfect.

He knew what he looked like, how people looked at him, even in clean clothes, even having brushed his hair, he still looked like he’d just rolled out of bed sometimes, and Steve… god… There weren’t words for how perfect Steve looked.

It seemed effortless but Eddie knew Steve must have put in genuine effort. It was attractive how much effort he must have been putting in.

They all looked that perfect though. He truly looked so very out of place. Lynda in her pristine white shirtdress, a belt around her waist giving it shape and John in his expensive pale blue polo and pressed chinos.

There he was, in a hand-me-down red and black flannel, the only pair of jeans he owned that weren’t ripped at the knee (although they were getting there), hands full of silver rings, an old handed down Casio watch, scuffed Reeboks, and the one band Tee he had that wasn’t dirty.

The pickings had been slim he really should have done some laundry. He should have accepted Steve’s offer to help him clean up. They’d have been still doing it!

“Hi… I’m—I’m Eddie… Eddie Munson.” They didn’t know the family name, and it didn’t surprise him either, Wayne wasn’t raised in Hawkins, he’d just settled there after he learned Eddie would be handed to him. Traded his truck for a trailer in a random pick of a town and swapped his long haul journeys for night shifts at the plant and that was that.

They couldn’t have known his family name.

“Oh my…” it wasn’t a disgusted oh my, although her eyes did widen, he felt… seen as she looked him up and down, seemingly sizing him up, and then… she turned to Steve and all his worries seemed to vanish when she, with genuine mischief in her voice, said “he’s a bit out of your league isn’t he, Steven? I know we encourage you to be ambitious but—”

“W-what?!” And that was Steve, flustered in his response “No, I’m—he’s—”

“Sweetheart” oh she sounded so cheeky “he has tattoos” Eddie quickly glanced down at his bare forearms where he’d rolled his sleeves up earlier, bats on display, his tattoos usually a source of judgement, she wasn’t judging him though. “You’re afraid of needles.”

“I am NOT!”

“That’s not what I remember from your last round of shots.”

“I was five.” At least he was the last time they’d gone with him to get his shots done. "I've had plenty of shots since then."

“These fears don’t just vanish, Steven, how do you expect to hold onto this handsome young man if you can’t even handle a little pri—”

“Lynda please.” John interrupted what would have been a stellar takedown with a comical amount of exasperation, the man pinching the bridge of his nose as if staving off an incoming headache. Eddie, against all odds, was smiling, fighting back genuine giggles, the free hand not wrapped within Steve’s lifted to cover his mouth as if to hold them in.

“What? It’s not like it didn’t work.” She handed John the glass she’d been holding, since Eddie no longer seemed to need the water, then took a step closer to Eddie “Eddie, dear… how about you and Steven come into the living room, and we can get to know you a little, how does that sound?” There was no anger in her tone, no disgust hidden in the layers of it, she just… she smiled at him.

Where were these ‘rich assholes’ people kept claiming the Harringtons to be? Because he didn’t see them. He could understand the hesitation to trust, he was still nervous, the fear still licked at his very soul that maybe, just maybe they were biding their time, waiting for the right moment to strike when he couldn’t get out, but… was there any reason to be distrustful?

Had the Harringtons ever been outspoken against his people? Ever? Save for maybe one or two occasions where Steve had called someone queer as an insult back in high school, before he’d obviously grown.

People just assumed.

Those at the bottom just assumed the worst of all of those at the top. Same as most assumed the worst of him, that he was mean, that he was scary. They were just at opposite ends of the social ladder. There had to be some good among the rich, why not the Harringtons?

Why couldn’t they be good? Why not at least give them the opportunity to be good?

“Y-yeah… yeah, that’d uh—that’d be okay I think.” Steve squeezed his hand so gently, another attempt to ground him, to keep him tethered. To keep him calm, and it worked. It helped. Steve was there, Steve would keep him safe. No matter who came at them, Steve would keep him safe, not a King at all.

A loyal Knight, a Paladin, a Defender. He’d probably be safe walking through the fiery pits of hell itself, as long as Steve was there beside him. “You sure you’re okay, Eddie? We can go back to yours, we can just… try another day.” And Steve checked in with him too as his parents returned to the Living room, Lynda pausing at the door to wait for them while her husband continued on.

Steve’s hand warm around his, looking at him with a level of concern nobody had bothered to bestow upon him before.

Not even Wayne, but Wayne was kinda gruff, he showed his love in other ways. Steve barely knew him… he was just, that kind of person apparently.

“Nah, we’re here now and with you here? My very own big, strong knight in shining armour? I’m pretty sure I could brave anything.”

And that bashful little smile of Steve’s whenever someone praised him?

Beautiful.

Beautiful enough to chase any bad feelings away with their tails between their legs. Beautiful enough to give him the boost he needed to pull Steve along by his hand and into that living room with Lynda, beautiful enough to give him the strength to take on the goddamn world.

Or at least the scariest thing he could think of in it at the time, that being… being himself in front of two complete strangers who could ruin his life with zero repercussions aside from their son being angry at them.

So it was a pretty big deal, that smile of his.

The first thing Eddie registered as he entered the main living room though, was that off to the right, there was a magnificent mahogany table, complete with three chairs on either side and one at each end.

Last time he’d seen it, it’d been covered in pizza boxes and alcohol options, its majesty concealed beneath a layer of filth. “Stevie can I—” couldn’t help himself

“Later” Steve was quicker than him though, Dustin had already brought up the table before, it wasn’t hard to guess where Eddie’s mind would go.

Of course he’d shot Dustin down, but Eddie? Maybe… just maybe he’d let Eddie use it. Only once his parents left again though, something told him they’d draw a line at a Dungeons and Dragons campaign, one of the main highlights of the ongoing Satanic Panic, being held in their dining room, whether they used it or not.

“So!" John began as he found his seat once more, waiting only for Steve and Eddie to sit down on the sofa close by, side by side, hand in hand, looking like the least likeliest pair in existence, to begin. "Eddie, tell us a little about yourself, how’d you both meet?”

Straight into the deep end then. "Well..."

Part 10

#PirateWrites #FakeItTillYouMakeItFiclet #Steddie #No Upside Down AU #Fake Dating AU #i have once called this fic my self-indulgent fic #it is for this reason that you get two updates in a row lmao

[johnwickb1tsch]

Tex Johnson x Witness!Reader x John Wick Imagine Part 1 by @treedaddymcpuffpuff @sweetwolfcupcake and @johnwickb1tsch GIF credits to @scarlettspectra ❤

What unholy fuckery is this, you ask? It's a round robin fic! And we're consolidating our parts here for your reading pleasure...

Summary: Imagine you're a witness in a high profile FBI case against the mafia and hitmen John Wick and Tex Johnson are competing for the contract on you. After some serious fighting and car chases in the end they just decide to fake your death and keep you for themselves...🤫 Original Post

Warnings: So many dead doves! Don't eat! Unless you like dead doves, that is. Violence, sexual content, blood, murder, kidnapping, possessive behavior, yandere sh!t...it's all here! Please take care! 😘

johnwickb1tsch:

In the beginning Tex plays with you, chatting you up in the local diner of the po-dunk town witness protection has stashed you in. You're so cute, he just can't help himself. He peppers you with "darlin's" and sly winks and usually you would tell someone hitting on you like this to fuck off, but... You can tell he's a little wild but he's so heart-stoppingly handsome and there's something infectious in the devil-may-care way he smiles at you with a mischievous glitter in his dark eyes. That down-home accent does things to you that shouldn't be mentioned in polite company. You actually like him, so it's an EXTRA shock when it turns out he's there to kill you...

treedaddymcpuffpuff: And you’re just so sweet and cute and funny and fiery - just his type. And he’s just gonna make it quick and painless at first, but then you’re so entertaining that he wants to fuck with you for a while. Maybe even fuck you before he puts a bullet in your smart little head. John Wick just flat out wants to kill you as soon as possible. Get it over with. At least at first. But, he’s John Wick, let’s be for real. And you’re just an innocent bystander who saw too much (and you volunteer at the local animal shelter and you always give out money to homeless people and you’re just an all around sweetheart, damn you), so John is gonna decide to say fuck his task (big shocker) and save you from Tex instead.

johnwickb1tsch:

You are incredibly lonely and bored in the little town you’ve been stuck in. You usually keep to yourself, as per your FBI handler’s warnings. But you’re having such a good time, when Tex asks if you want to go for a ride in his incredibly hot vintage muscle car…you ignore every bit of good sense you have left to your name, and agree. He thinks this is hilarious, of course. And…kind of endearing. Here you are, just eatin’ out of the palm of his hand like he’s not some kind of monster.

So…you go for a ride, and you don’t get too alarmed when Tex heads out of town. He can’t show off what this baby can do in the city limits, after all… But when there’s an explosion, the front tire going flat, and you have to pull over in the middle of nowhere, you start to get worried. When Tex gets out to see the tire’s been shot out…and he pulls a gun, looking around—you start to realize you made a HUGE fucking mistake. You get out of the car, thinking this would be a great time to go elsewhere. He tries to grab you, but you knee him in the crotch! 👈 @treedaddymcpuffpuff 🤭

Just your luck, here comes another vehicle speeding down the road. Wow, there are a lot of muscle cars on the road today. This one is dark gray, with black racing stripes. You try to flag him down—but change your mind when a hand extends out the window holding a gun, and he opens fire on Tex. You, understandably, duck for cover while screaming as the firefight ensues around you. Then suddenly strong hands are grabbing you up—and throwing you in the trunk... Dun dun dun! 😈🤣

sweetwolfcupcake: Now, that's a shitty situation. That's all you can think before you begin to scream for help. But who would be there in an isolated road, ready to go against two armed men? You can barely see the man shoving you into the trunk when another round of fire starts. The man backs off to pull his gun back, but that is enough time for you to slip put. Staggering on your feet. To your relief, it is tge familiar car. Your FBI handler! "Oh God, oh God!" You cry out in tears of part relief and part terror. How could you be so stupid? Following a stranger into his car?

treedaddymcpuffpuff:

Ah, your FBI case handler. He’s a tough guy. Trustworthy. Scrappy. You know he’ll protect you even though you really hate being a damsel in distress because fuck that trope. Except mystery man (JOHNNY BOY) shoots him in the kneecap faster than FBI man can blink or say “mercy”.

And then Tex grabs you and points a loaded Glock at your head, grinning that shark toothed grin that not too long ago was making you giggle like a schoolgirl. And now it’s just making you hyperventilate and practically piss yourself in fear.

And here you are, the bargaining chip in a game of who dies first with three grown men fighting over you.

Johnwickb1tsch: “Well well. Ain’t this a sticky situation?” calls out Tex, taking cover behind his car, an arm wrapped firmly around your shoulders with that fucking gun to your head. The barrel digs into your temple painfully. “Asshole,” you growl under your breath. At a volume just for you he says, “Now, now, darlin’, don’t be sore.” “I actually liked you.” “I like you too. But your pretty head is worth a fuck ton o’ dinero. It’s a shame, sweetheart, but it ain’t lookin’ good for you.” Tears start streaming down your cheeks as the hopelessness of the situation really settles down on you. “Then why don’t you just shoot me now?” “That’s a helluva suggestion. You’re not very good at this game, are you?” “It’s not a game, you bastard.” “Sure it is.” Then in a louder voice he calls out, “Hey, John! Been a long time.” There’s a long pause before you hear from the other side of the dark muscle car, “Yeah.” “Whattya say we split the bounty, call it even stevens?” “I don’t want the girl dead.” This actually, if not stupidly, inspires some hope in you. But then if he was here to rescue you…why did he shoot your FBI agent? Tex actually laughs about this. The feeling of his broad chest moving behind you is…distracting. “Now that’s interesting! How do you propose we go about that?” “I kill you both and take her with me,” is this John’s deadpan response. He sounds so…certain that he can accomplish this. It’s kind of hot, if you’re being honest. You like the part about you not being dead, but the rest… “Hey now, that’s not nice,” answers Tex, and you can tell he’s smiling as he says it. “And you forget about this big ol’ gun I got pressed to her head.” “If you kill her, I’m going to kill you.” “Anyone ever tell you you’re a one trick pony, John?” “Yeah.” “How bout this. For old time’s sakes. Remember how it was that time in Tijuana?” “I was extremely drunk.” Tex chuckles at this, some fond old memory, and your heart is slowly sinking little by little all the way to your feet. “Well, I seem to remember you don’t mind sharing. I could live with that.” The silence on this deserted road stretches on as John considers this. “And after? The girl lives?” “Sure, sure. We fake her death, take the money. She can go her way, and we go ours.” “We’ll have to kill Dmitri Nobokov.” “He’s an asshole anyway.”    “Deal.” You are shocked when Tex releases you so suddenly you fall into a pile on the ground. What the fuck were they even talking about?? Sharing…you??! Moving in tandem, you watch as the two dangerous men close in on Agent Bradford. You hear shots, and you fear the worst. In the end you find yourself sitting on the ground, quivering like a terrified lump of jell-0, with two tall, stupidly handsome, mafia assassins looming over you. “Are you guys…brothers, or something?” Frowning, they look at each other. Tex in his denim and John in his smart black suit.  “What?” “No.” They reach down for you, and you find yourself locked in the trunk, again.

Treedaddymcpuffpuff:

You don’t see the need for the rope binding your wrists behind your back, or the tether on the ankles. Overkill, much?

Maybe they think you actually pose a challenge? Well, that’s nice of them, but even you’re not blimp-headed enough to think you can take on two taller, bigger, combat ready men. Plus, Tex lifted you like you were a goddamn sack of pillow stuffing.

You’re more convinced by the minute this is all just meant to humiliate you - the bondage, the trunk, the fucking slinging you over a shoulder and making casual conversation about how they’re going to pull off your death. 

Which makes you seethe because you didn’t fucking do anything. And, poor Bradford, with the family and the kids.. well, probably, you don’t actually know about his personals. That doesn’t change the fact he was a living, breathing human - once - who was just trying to keep you safe. 

You have to do something, so you don’t make it easy for them - you kick, squirm, bite. You get a big chunk of the nameless one’s hand in your mouth and latch on like a little boa, and he doesn’t even seem bothered. He just sighs, pinches your nose shut until you have to let go. 

“Now, darlin’,” Tex coos, too close to your ear for comfort, “we gotta gag you, too?” 

“I hate you,” you spit. 

Tex sifts the prickly rope through his hands, fast, big fingers way too agile, snaps it taut, chuckles like he was hoping you’d say something bitchy. And watching that debauched show should have not made your insides give an abrupt, furious clench. But it just does. 

“Guess that’s a yes,” he sighs. 

Johnwickb1tsch:

When the blade comes out is when you really start to panic. They debated for what felt like hours about what was the best way to drain your fucking blood. Something about staging your death, burning Agent Bradford's body in his car, leaving some of your blood and hair at the scene.

Jesus fucking christ, how has your life come to this?

When you feel Tex's rough hand on your arm, inspecting your anatomy for a vein, you start to cry. You couldn't be more surprised, than when you feel a soft touch in your cheek. "Hey, it's going to be alright. We just need a little." It's the intense one. John. He doesnt say much, but you get the feeling he could burn down the world with that anthracite gaze.

 Still, you whimper when you feel the cool blade on your skin. "Don't hurt her," warns John, his voice not so gentle for Tex, filled with warning.

 "I'm not," insists the one behind you. You feel a sting, but somehow, he was telling the truth. You feel the warm drip of your blood oozing down your arm. They're catching it in a 7-11 cup. How...decorous.

"Really, you should be thanking us," drawls Tex. "We saved your life."

Your exclamation of "Are you fucking kidding me?" is muffled by the scratchy rope in your mouth.

Tex gets it though, and grins. "That's right. It was an open contract, darlin'. If we didn't find you, someone else would have. Someone not so nice."

John tilts his head slightly in agreement.

 "How did you find out where the Federal Bureau of Incompetence was keepin' her, Wick?"

 "A mole." It's the only shred of hope you have.

"What a coincidence."

 Bradford was a good man. You at least know it wasn't him.

Even though you're tied up, you are so relieved when they finally go. However, it seems like they're not gone long before they return to the secluded hideout. They are not happy. Apparently, Bradford's body was gone from the scene. He could still be out there, looking for you.

sweetwolfcupcake: Hope flared within you, and it might have shown, unfortunately. You felt fingers grab your chin-- firm, not painful(for now). "Don't be so quick to sigh. Finding him is a child's play for us. And then we kill him." Tex' cold stare greeted her. Though a biting reply remained at the tip of your tongue, you knew better than to piss them off. Your life was still in their hands, after all. "I have made the arrangements." The other man approached them, he was on call for a while. He glanced at you and sighed. His eyes found Tex before he nodded. You frowned as your mind raced with possibilities, but it was only for a moment before you felt a sharp, sudden pain at the back of your head and your eyes rolled back. "You were supposed to go for the vein, not hit her!" John hissed, cradling your lolled head in his hands. " Remind me next time." Tex rolled his eyes, no sign of remorse visible. With his jaws tensed, John let your head rest and got to work. There were a lot of things to take care of-- faking your death, for example.

Treedaddymcpuffpuff:

 When they go, they don’t even give you hope of escape - they bind you tight to a cushiony blue chair with wooden legs and arms, expertly looping ropes around and across. It would be really hot, how they move together flawlessly and work the rope like it’s a good friend, if they weren’t making sure you couldn’t move a damn inch in the process. Oh, who are you kidding? Despite your rage and fear and sorrow, your panties are still completely soaked watching big hands and bulging veins and sinew and tendon.

And now you’re highly uncomfortable, trying to squirm and getting absolutely nowhere. You’re trussed up like a thanksgiving turkey, and then they leave. Just fucking leave. How. Dare. They.

When they get back, you’ve got drool running down and soaking your shirt, neck and chin. You’re sweaty, disheveled, uncomfortable. Despite being left to your sparse devices, the arousal has just gotten worse. Because you’ve been alone with your imagination - which has been preoccupied with two very beautiful men - and you’re fucking aching. Seeing them again makes it so much worse… are they laughing, getting along? Some inside joke. Fucking rat bastards

And they’re touching you and examining you and talking about you like you are the actual thanksgiving turkey. Unconsciousness actually feels like a great relief. It’s probably the best thing that’s happened so far.

John cuts your hair and takes some skin from a place that will heal quickly. They untie you, put your limp body back in the trunk - John does this, too, being very gentle with you, carrying you bridal style instead of over his shoulder like some caveman. He checks your pulse, makes sure your oxygenation is okay, and then does what Tex should have and injects your vein with a heavy sedative to keep you knocked.

“Ya know, I kinda liked her better when she was alive and biting the shit out of you,” Tex muses as he and John slide into the car. “She’s cute, huh? Kinda tight, just needs loosened up a little bit.” Tex raises a suggestive eyebrow and John glares him down.

“Lighten up, addle-pot,” Tex replies to John’s heavy silence.

sweetwolfcupcake: The sensation of the jerking increased along with the pain at the back of her head. It hurt. The throbbing continued as she gulped-- her throat burned. The discomfort urged her to open her heavy eyes faster. Her vision was hazy but she could make out the interiors of a car. She blinked slowly. They were silent, except for occasional whispered comments from Tex and one-word answers from the other man who looked exactly like Tex but had a distinct aura, some kind of energy that sent chills down her spine. It was like being in the presence of a dangerous creature with barely contained primitiveness. He looked more refined and spoke with a tone and way that suggested quality. And yet...and yet something in the back of her mind would be ready for a fight or flight response in his presence. If anything, he had been comparatively nicer to her. Tex was a jerk in every annoying sense-- but she could dare to have a verbal spat with Tex, and give him a fitting reply. The other man though... She had not realized that she had been starring at them until a hand reached out for her from the front seat. "She's awake." A voice gently declared. Fingers touched her cheeks gently and she knew that it was the other man. Even with swimming sight, she could tell that the car was speeding through and the other man's gaze was set on her form laying on the backseat. Only if... Only if she had been smarter, and not blindly trusted a stranger--- she wouldn't be in this mess, Bradford was her only hope now, he had proven his capabilities to her time and again and she knew that he was out there, trying to track her down. She only hoped that he was well, alive, and he knew that she was alive as well.

tbc...

#john wick #tex johnson #tex johnson x you #tex johnson x reader #john wick x you #john wick x reader #yandere john wick #yandere tex johnson #wicked johnson fic

[captainsboonie]

Allergies

words: 3961

Warnings: Implied sexual content, hormones (oh god hormones!!!!!!!)

Additional tags: reader is a sergeant, a/b/o dynamics, pack dynamics, scenting, omega!reader, alpha!price, no y/n used, kneeling-aftercare not sex-aftercare, john price is a BIG man, reader is very sad and stressed but doesnt realize it :(, uncomfortable leather couches = best kneeling session ever, readers hormones go wild cuz of scent blockers

Summary: It was becoming such an issue that it interfered with your job and your abilities. You couldn’t do your paperwork if an Alpha had brought you the papers, as it would end in you having to evacuate the room to not disturb the other people working with your wheezing. If an Alpha had cleaned your gun in the weaponry, you couldn’t use it until it was fully cleaned and reassembled again by a Beta. It was getting worse and worse throughout the weeks, and honestly, it was stressing you out. You might lose your rank, or even your job, for this.

or

After suddenly getting very sensitive and reactive to scents, a lone Sergeant is in desperate need of help. Captain John Price, as it happens, had her on his list for possible recruits for the 141. Losing a possible member was not ideal to him - so he decides to help out.

notes: this literally took all my motivation thats ever existed. i dont know why. just eight pages of pure suffering is what this is (also havent i used a yellow color for the summary text before? or is it the same as the orange??? where'd yellow go). its 01:14 so if beta read is bad its just cause im tired

You’ve gotten allergic to certain scents. 

Or, that’s the only reasonable explanation for your current suffering, anyway. That, or you accidentally breathed in or consumed some weird chemical on a mission that was fucking your sense of smell up. You doubted both former and latter, but at this point, you were desperate for answers. 

Being an Omega wasn’t so bad. However, being an Omega while living in the same building as an uncountable amount of military Alphas, was worse. Everything about them stunk. Wherever you went, that musty smell of dominance coated everything: walls, tables, chairs, rugs, the toilet paper, and even the cutlery. Just raising a fork to your mouth was enough for your brain to short-circuit, making you drop the fork on the plate which was loud – so loud that everyone turned their heads towards you as you sneezed into the bend of your arm. 

It was becoming such an issue that it interfered with your job and your abilities. You couldn’t do your paperwork if an Alpha had brought you the papers, as it would end in you having to evacuate the room to not disturb the other people working with your wheezing. If an Alpha had cleaned your gun in the weaponry, you couldn’t use it until it was fully cleaned and reassembled again by a Beta. It was getting worse and worse throughout the weeks, and honestly, it was stressing you out. You might lose your rank, or even your job, for this. 

Management obviously noticed, and instead of firing you, put you on scent-blocker pills. Now you could at least eat and wipe without coughing your lungs up, having constant throat burn, or getting nosebleeds every time you sneeze due to the constant irritation of your airways. It got slightly better, good enough for you to be able to work, thankfully. You finally got your paperwork done, not reacting to the scent of the Alphas as if you inhaled pure black pepper. The constant stench was still annoying, but compared to the hell you’ve been through the past weeks, you considered it durable. 

But suddenly, the pills decided to start a fucking war with your hormones. You felt like total shit; even the slightest inconvenience either set you off, or left you quietly sobbing in a corner. There was no inbetween for the two weeks that the pills were in effect. It got so bad that you growled at one of the Lieutenants, which ended in one of the Betas having to pull you away from said Lieutenant (which, unfortunately for you, turned out to be an Alpha) to prevent any unnecessary scuffles. 

After that incident, which was witnessed by practically every soldier on base, a few others got involved. Remarkably, management tried to find other solutions after making you stop taking the pills. You thought that they would have fired you long ago, sparing themselves from the complications and total waste of their time. Normally, you wouldn’t be complaining about getting free food and housing, but your worsening condition prevented you from enjoying the luxuries. At this point, you would rather have them fire you than let you stay and suffer through the agonizing pain and distress. 

Thankfully, some higher-ups found a fitting nurse on base that was willing to investigate your troubles. Well, basically every nurse in the infirmary was willing to, since Omegas weren't researched to the same extent that Alphas and Betas were. Getting the chance to investigate and witness a rare case as yours seemed to greatly attract the nurses. 

The nurse visited your room barely three hours after you got the notice from management. She entered quickly, closing the door gently behind her as she introduced herself. The meeting turned out to be extremely short, to your surprise. After just a short physical examination and some questions, she was done. 

“It’s stress.” The nurse concluded while taking off her sanitary gloves, which she had used to feel your scent glands only seconds earlier. Your eyebrows immediately scrunched slightly, eyes narrowing. As she threw the gloves in a nearby trash can, you started pondering. How was this caused by stress when you only felt stressed after this happened? Your eyes followed her as she walked around the room, packing her tools back into the bag she brought them in. She looked over at you, and tilted her head a little. “You look confused.”

“I mean… yeah,” You mumble, looking around the room to avoid eye contact. Had you caused all of this chaos just because you were stressed? You suddenly felt guilty. You had always been able to control the stressful environment at base and on missions – what had managed to go so wrong now? The nurse looked at you curiously while holding her bag, as though she was leaving. You ended up quietly muttering, afraid to accidentally make her feel insulted. “Sorry, but I don’t think that’s possible.” 

“...Why wouldn’t that be possible, Sergeant?” She sighs, but the look in her eyes proves that she’s not tired of you. She looks at you with care – not with the usual sternness you’re used to from the Lieutenants. She puts the bag down on the floor, and goes to sit on the bed next to you. Her calming scent wafts through the air, making your previous guilt slowly fade, and muscles release their tension without your command – making you feel a little sleepy. That’s why most nurses are Betas; the natural ability to calm being almost essential. Your thoughts gather way faster now than before, the Beta’s scent doing wonders. You sigh, and look over at her on your left side. “I’m not stressed. I’ve never been too stressed, cause I would’ve noticed, right? I was perfectly fine until this happened. This is the thing that’s been stressing me out, but nothing before that.”

“You’ve misunderstood me,” She smiles, and puts a warm hand on your left knee. She was extremely grounding, and you understood perfectly why management chose her specifically. “It’s not you, hun. It’s your Omega that’s stressed – that’s most likely why you haven’t felt it until it became real bad,” she pauses for a moment, ”tell me, have you done anything recently to calm it down?”

“Well… no. Not really. ” You murmur after a few moments, in thought, as you think back on the recent months. It’s first now that you notice the signs: you stopped getting the urges to nest only a few months after you first moved to this base, you started to rub your scent glands often, and eventually you even stopped scenting your own room. You have no pack, no mate, no bonds. How were you supposed to keep your omega content when you didn’t have someone to care for you? The nurse purses her lips and pats your knee softly to bring you out of your thoughts. “That’s what I suspected. You practically dozed off when you smelled my pheromones, you’re that sensitive. Plus, I can smell the scent of a stressed Omega, and I shouldn’t even be able to.” She’s right. Only Alphas and your pack should be able to identify that. 

“I know that you’re confused, but I think I may have found a solution for you.” You look over at her from the corner of your eye, sighing. “Is there even a solution at this point? I’ve got nobody to calm it down.” You answer shortly, giving up hope. You had already tried to find packs, especially here on base, but none were too keen on taking in a stray. Your heats, which you fortunately only experienced twice per year, were solved by mere one-night stands with no aftercare. It left you broken, but it especially broke your Omega. It was hurt, and had nobody to seek help from. The nurse brings you out of your thoughts once more. “Don’t get all caught up in those depressive thoughts. You know that Lieutenant that you slightly …reacted towards?”

“...That’s a fancy way of saying it. But yes, I do. Why, what about him?” You cringe, cheeks turning vibrant as you think back. He’d taken the last protein bar. And you’d growled. You sigh and rub your forehead, and the nurse chuckles. “I didn’t mean to make you think back, since you seem to have taken it so hard. What happened wasn’t your fault.” She goes over to the bag, that’s still laying on the floor, and pulls out the notebook she had been using to write down your symptoms. She walks over to the bed while flipping to another page, sitting down and showing you the messy writing while explaining. “His Captain knows about you. You’d apparently been on his list of people he might interview for the 141, but when you started reacting this badly to scents, he decided to keep an eye on you. I contacted him before I got here and told him my suspicions, and he’s happy to help.” 

You swear that your cheeks are going to ignite. All of this came to you as a shock – you’d been on his list, he kept an eye on you, he wanted to help you? The thoughts were rushing through your head all at once. The nurse visibly saw it on your face and put one of her hands on your shoulder gently. Her gaze was reaffirming, calming, as she spoke. “He’s a Captain, he knows what he’s doing. He’s been taking in strays since he joined the military – I can guarantee that he will take care of you.”

After some more conversing you found out that the nurse had already booked a meeting, on your behalf, with said Captain. She said that it was better for you to meet him as soon as possible, so she booked it for this evening. Sigh. You had no time to prepare yourself for what was about to happen, no time to gather your thoughts, as you decided to go to his office immediately. He’d apparently never said when this evening, so as you knocked on his door, you hoped you’d arrived at a suitable time. After an awkward second of waiting outside his door, the handle lowered. The high-pitched squeaking of the hinges slowly grew as the door opened wider, and revealed Captain Price. 

He was a huge man, standing tall and wide in the doorway. His size was anticipated however, due to his secondary gender. Large muscles protruded faintly from his tight long-sleeve, cargo pants stretching tightly around his thighs. Jeez. Did this man even buy clothes his own size? His hair was ruffled slightly, some spiky ends pointing in all directions. His beard, however, was well groomed, showing off his lips as he smiled. 

“I’ve been waiting for you. Come in.” He rumbles, quite literally. His voice was deep, tone commanding, as you stepped inside his office. As soon as you stepped over the threshold, his smell hit you like a shockwave. You were sure that you could smell coffee and leather, but there was just too much. It overwhelmed you, making you immediately cover the lower half of your face with the thick hoodie you’re wearing, to escape the odor. It worked to an extent, but it certainly wasn’t enough to block it out. Price noticed what was happening, and studied you as he walked over to his office chair. “Had some Betas in here for a while, thought that it would drown my scent out enough for you to be comfortable. Guess it didn’t work then, did it?”

“No, sir.” You mumble from underneath the hoodie, standing straight, muscles tense. You really didn’t want to be here, in a room all alone with someone who could overpower you within a few seconds. An Alpha that you’d never met before, your superior, that you barely knew the motives of. You had no idea how he acted – had no idea what he was like in general, and it made you nervous.

Price knew it too. The way the scent in the room was drastically changing from his own to one of chemicals proved an Omega in distress, but what gave it away was your tense shoulders and knees, as well as the way you wouldn’t make eye contact.

 “You seem uncomfortable.” He says, looking at your eyes from across the office table. It was decorated with the usual office stuff: Pencils, ballpoint pens, a monitor, and a few small plastic plants.

“I… I don’t really know what to do,” you speak up after a few seconds, words once again muffled by your hoodie. You looked up at him, finding his gaze already set on you and observing you. He sighs, leans back in his chair, and spreads his legs slightly. “I know that we’re not pack, and that this may make you uncomfortable, but you have to try. Let’s just… get to know each other, yeah? Then we’ll take it from there.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was difficult not to trust Price, even with how tense you were. His gentle and caring demeanor helped you relax enough to be able to sit next to him in the uncomfortable leather couch that stood in a corner in his office. It was thoroughly used, cracks decorating the leather, branching out like lightning over the worn material. You wonder what had made it so appealing in the first place as you shift uncomfortably, your back feeling like you’d sat against a brick wall for hours on end. You both had managed to keep a steady conversation going since you first arrived, but your squirming interrupted the mood. 

“...Uncomfortable?” 

As he speaks, you swear that you could see a shiny glint of mischief in his eyes. It disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, promptly replaced by a neutral look that you couldn’t interpret. You sighed quietly, faking a smile and shaking your head. As you did, he smirked somewhat, looking away from you and shaking his head as the smirk grew. He could see right through you. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that. We both know that’s not true, love.”

The nickname had, what you assumed was, the desired effect. Cheeks hot, you look up at him, puzzled. He looks back at you, his gentle eyes reassuring you once more. The eye contact is intense – and eventually, his scent gets more intense. You could feel the beginning of an itch in your throat, making you draw back and raise the collar of your hoodie above your nose. He looked slightly disappointed at your retreat, but gathered himself quickly. He cleared his throat, gaze diverting from you. “Let’s not circle around the elephant in the room any more than necessary. You need me to take care of you, correct?”

“...I mean, according to the nurse, yes.” You mutter out from underneath the hoodie, turning slightly grumpy at the thought. You’d been so invested in the conversation that you’d forgotten why you were here in the first place. He rumbles a singular hum at your wording, interested. “But not according to you, then?” 

It was like he could open your skull, reading thought after thought as if you were a simple book. You supposed it was natural considering his position, but it still felt eerie. “No. I don’t feel stressed.”

“You’re out of your mind – straight nonsense, that is.” He chuckles, voice rumbling, almost reverberating inside his chest cavity. His lips were stretched thin as he genuinely smiled, looking up and in your eyes a short moment later. “The scent of stressed Omega is practically drowning me, inside my own office, Sergeant. Are you really so sure that you aren’t stressed?” 

You huff at him and look away, eyebrows scrunching slightly as you close your eyes. He was good company at first, but now you just wanted to leave. He could most likely feel the scent of stress increasing, fighting his instincts to care, making him squeeze his eyes shut and lower his head. He let out a deep sigh. “Just let me try to help. If it doesn’t work, no harm done. If it does work, you’ll be able to live normally again.”

“So much for living normally in this line of work.” You shoot him a glare from the corner of your eye, much to his disappointment. He raises his eyebrows as he keeps a neutral expression. You huff once more, obviously not keen on his idea. “What are you even going to do? How are you going to help me?”

“Me? I’m not going to be doing so much.” His gravelly voice boomed cooly. You look over at him, confused. “What do you mean?” 

He seemed oddly comfortable on the unbearable couch, gaze cool and steady. His body was wide, legs parted, taking up as much space as possible. He was so confident, and it somehow made you feel… safe? He slowly spoke again, calmly, as if he didn’t want to upset you with what he was about to say. “You’ll have to kneel for me, Sergeant.”

Kneeling. It was something you’d never done before. It was the ultimate act of trust between Omega and Alpha – explaining why you’d never experienced it. You had never had someone to trust enough to kneel for, especially not within the military. The thought of kneeling in front of Captain Price, someone you’d met just a few hours ago, was dizzying. Your eyebrows scrunched, not sure how to react to such a thing. “Kneel?”

“Yeah. Kneel. You know how it works.” Thing is, you don’t. How are you supposed to know when you’ve never done it before? You suspect that Price reads you once more as you glare over at him. His eyes widen – in remorse or something else, you don’t know – as he raises his chin slightly. He keeps his eyes on you, observing, but eventually lets out a sigh. “Guess it was stupid of me to assume. Don’t worry, I’ll guide you through it – it’s as simple as it sounds.”

“It sounds sexual.” You sigh, as he grabs a soft pillow from the couch and puts it on the floor between his spread legs. He lets out a small chuckle, and looks up at you as he prepares. “Yeah. It’s going to look sexual too, love, but you’ll just have to trust me with this.”

He finishes quickly, somehow managing to find a comfortable position on the couch. His legs are spread wide, ready to accommodate you in between them. You blush once more, realizing that you’re basically going to have his crotch in your face. 

You immediately try to stop your train of thought, eyes widening as you realize the scent in the room is changing. You can’t identify it, but Price sure can; pupils blown as he looks over at you from the corner of his eye. “Don’t do that if you don’t want this to have a completely different outcome.” 

After stalling a few times, you finally dare to drop to your knees on the pillow. You were completely rigid, muscles filled to the brim with tension. Price immediately tries to get your attention. “Hey, look at me,” He orders, and as you obey, he rewards you, “there you go, just like that.”

The praise gave you goosebumps. You were now looking up at his eyes, pupils expanding as you soak up the praise. He smiles and nods once down at you, rewarding you for listening. “Good job. Now, I’m just going to do something real quick, and you’ll feel very good. Trust me.” 

The position you were in made you trust him, made you obey his commands. You had no idea if it was instinctual or if you were just depraved, but at this point you didn’t care. It felt good to kneel for him, and the praise was just an extra bonus. You nodded slowly at his words, and after your confirmation, he started slowly moving his right hand towards the left side of your neck. As his fingers grazed your bare throat, you could feel his scent growing sweeter. Instead of bitter coffee, he now smelled like sweet chamomile tea – making you drowsy. You could feel a pressure that you didn’t know existed in your airways die down, and all of a sudden, you could breathe. 

His palm was now gently laying on the left side of your neck, and your eyes slowly started closing. He was murmuring sweet praise constantly, telling you how good you were for him, and how everything was going to be okay. Suddenly, his hand moved slightly up to your scent gland, and pushed on it ever so slightly. The sensation left you speechless, only capable of releasing a relaxed sigh as you push your neck further into his palm. What you couldn’t currently see due to your closed eyes, was the proud smile Price was wearing. He knew that if you could purr, you definitely would. The expression on your face was just pure relaxation as you float – experiencing a heavenly, ethereal feeling that was unknown to you. Price continued murmuring those sweet words, and you couldn’t think straight anymore. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You don’t know how much time has passed. You must’ve fallen asleep, since you woke up leaning on Price’s left thigh. You could feel a large and warm hand on your head, holding you steady against his thigh so you wouldn’t topple over. You gradually open your eyes, pupils trying to adjust to the harsh lightning as you do. 

“G’morning.” Price’s voice affectionately murmurs down at you, starting to stroke your hair slowly as you adjust. “How’re you feeling?”

“...Tingly.” You respond quietly, almost in a whisper. The Captain chuckles, and you look up at him softly as he keeps stroking your head. His voice is intentionally soft, not wanting to accidentally startle you. “I wasn’t expecting an answer. Post-kneeling is always difficult for Omegas to describe.”

As you slowly woke up and regained your rational way of thinking, you noticed that you smelled entirely of Price. There wasn’t a single hint of your smell left, and you looked up at him, blushing. “Did… Did you scent me?”

His eyes widen and look down at you almost immediately. He scoffs, shakes his head, and looks away once more. “No, I absolutely would not scent you without your permission. You might smell like me after the kneeling, though.” 

Price desperately tried to ignore his instincts. You, a stray Omega, definitely looking for a pack and a mate, smelling just like him. His Alpha took that as a sign that he’d claimed you, and Price tried, with all his might,  to prevent himself from escalating the currently wholesome situation to something… not-so-wholesome. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were surprisingly content half-asleep between his legs, sometimes dozing off enough for you to almost fall over. But, all things have to come to an end, and sooner than later you were being escorted out of Price’s office by the man himself. 

It was difficult to say goodbye. You two had just done something that you couldn’t undo, made an unbreakable bond, practically tying you two together with a short invisible string that couldn’t be cut. You both knew it – yet, there were no regrets.

As you step over the threshold after saying your goodbyes, Price’s hand stops you by grabbing your shoulder. You turn around curiously, looking up at him with wide, expecting eyes. “Meet me here at six, tomorrow afternoon. I’ve got good news for you.”

You got the job that Price had originally put you on the list for, and soon after, you met the 141 for the first time. They all looked at you curiously – you smelled just like their Captain, after all. After sparing a glance over at said looming – seemingly protective – alpha, they managed to piece it together.

taglist!!!: @cadotoast

#captain john price #captain john price x reader #john price #john price x reader #captain john price x fem!reader #captain johnathan price #john price cod #captain price #captain price x reader #john price x you

[michelle-is-writing]

Help, John Wick

Word Count: 2.8k~

Warnings: mention of gun fire, blood, injury, stitches

Working the evening shift sometimes proves to be a hassle, especially when I’m needed past midnight. On nights like these, I know as soon as I leave the hospital doors that I’m all alone in my somewhat safe city. The biggest issue in my city is the constant hidden dangers within it, as reported by the news many times. The attacks are always random, and the people are disguised, meaning no one can tell who is truly good or bad.

With the clock nearing 12:05, I’m finally able to clock out and head out of my hospital and to my car. On the way to my vehicle, I notice something weird about my driver side’s tires; they seem to be flat, but one has a knife stuck in it.

“What the…” my voice trails off as I look around my hospital’s parking lot, seeing maybe three or four other cars scattered throughout it. I’m already in a not-so-safe situation, and quite frankly, walking out alone late at night is not the best decision for someone like me to make.

Instead of risking my safety, I begin walking backwards to go back into the hospital before turning around, only to be knocked down on the ground by someone running into me from my left. As I fall with the person who rammed into me, my ears pick up distinct gunshots - something you hope to never hear when you’re leaving work late at night.

“Stay down!” A deep, gruff voice yells before the weight of the body on top of me is suddenly gone, and more gunshots ring out around me. Despite the pain from being slammed down, I still manage to shuffle away and get behind the bushes next to the pavement. It’s not the best cover, but it can at least help me figure out what the hell is going on right now.

Looking through the thick branches of leaves in front of me, I spot two people now revealed by the street lights as they shoot toward the entrance of the hospital. “Why would anyone shoot at a hospital?!” I find myself muttering before I jerk my head over to the doors. There stands a dark-haired man dressed in an all black suit, a pistol in his hands as well. Only two shots are fired from that pistol before all gunshots come to a stop, but before I have any time to process what has just happened, the man is running toward me. I’ve never seen him before, and he certainly doesn’t look like someone who could shoot two people in two clear shots. His face is even cast with concern as he nears the bushes I hide behind, a hand outreached for me.

“We need to go! Now!” He tells me, grabbing my hand before yanking me up from the ground and taking off. With his hand firmly gripping my hand, I’m left with no other choice but to run with him. Feeling my fight-or-flight instincts kick in, I recognize the rush of anxiety flowing through me as well as so much confusion. Why am I running with a man who just shot several men either wounded or dead? He’s obviously trying to help me, but who exactly is he trying to protect me from?

After running across the parking lot to a car parked in the shade, the man yells at me to get in, but as I near the passenger side door, I feel myself halt as time slowly passes around me. My body feels as if it’s stuck in honey, unable to move or do anything, and my mind doesn’t feel much better.

“Get in now!” The man yells one more time, fully snapping me out of my stupor and bringing my attention to the door handle of an older car as I open it before climbing in. Alongside me is the man falling into the driver's side, quickly turning the engine on before speeding out of the parking lot. Speeding lights pass all around me while my eyes fall to my arms and hands, a burning sensation taking over my limbs. My palms and elbows are scratched up from the fall, droplets of blood adorning the scrapes before leading down to the new holes on the knees of my scrub pants, crimson liquid beginning to show through there as well.

In this moment, as my brain now begins to process the oncoming stings and burns, I turn my head toward the man, finding him to be focusing every ounce of his attention on the road in front of us as he speeds way above the limit. “What just happened?” I ask him, my voice almost disturbing him from his focus as he slightly jolts in his seat. “What’s going on?”

He shakes his head, his long hair moving along with him as he seemingly ponders if he should answer my question or not. For a few seconds, he remains quiet before sighing and giving in. “It’s… hard to explain,” he starts, giving me a cautious glance before looking back at the road in front of him as he speeds through traffic. Between taking sharp turns and darting in between cars, I can’t help but grasp the door with all my might to keep me from going all over the place.

“A couple days ago, you treated a patient, a man who came in with a bullet wound directly below his heart,” The man explains, making me stare at him confused. I did have a patient come in with those exact issues, but he told us he was mugged and that’s why he was shot. Why would someone try to attack a mugging victim in the way they did?

“Well, the guy wasn’t exactly mugged, and the people who shot him thought you were helping out him and his… group,” he further adds, making my eyes widen in a mix of horror and confusion. “They didn't even know your name or anything about you and they still tried to put a hit on you, all because you helped him survive. He asked me to make sure nothing happened to you, said you were a sweet girl, and I promised him I would keep you safe,” he nods his head toward the road. “So, here we are.”

Despite his explanation definitely being… weird, I don’t question him any more about it, and instead, I ask him something else. “What’s your name?”

At my question, he gives me a wary glance before answering. “John,” he tells me, gaining a nod back from me.

“John, I think you got shot,” I inform him, my eyes falling to his bloody arm. It looks like the bullet either grazed or went completely through his arm, but nonetheless, it’s still bleeding like a gunshot wound.

John barely reacts, only nodding his head “I know,” he simply explains as if it were something simple and not a bullet wound. “I’ll take you somewhere safe until we know what the group is trying to achieve.”

His words barely register in my ears before I’m turning in my seat to shake my head at him. “No, no, we need to go to my apartment,” I urge him, and just as I expected, he begins to tell me it’s not safe. “But my dogs are there!” I quickly argue back, feeling my heart pound away in my chest.

In an instant, it’s like a flip in his head switches, and he gives me a small nod in response to my words. “Okay,” he simply mutters, “Show me how to get there.”

Arriving at my apartment, John parks the car way down my street before having us run up to my back gate and get in through there. By the looks of it, my apartment seems to be untouched, and after John does a quick run through, I’m able to let out a sigh of relief. I’ve witnessed a lot of crazy things tonight, and the fact that I have a man whom I just met in my house after being shot at is crazy. However, my dogs don’t seem to care about the crazy night I’ve had as they’re too busy trying to get John to pet them. In spite of what I witnessed him do earlier in the midst of gunfire, seeing him act like a complete teddy bear around my dogs practically makes my heart skip a beat.

“Sit down here, John,” I tell him, gesturing to stools by my counter as I wash my hands in the kitchen sink. “So I can stitch up your arm,” I add, drying the water from my hands before gathering the stuff I need from my medicine cabinet. He nods at my words before sitting and waiting patiently, now with my smallest dog in his lap. Beside him are my other dogs, all sitting beside him as if they were all best friends already.

Smiling at the sight, I look up from my dogs to meet his eyes, only to be greeted by his chocolate-like eyes already staring back into mine. However, I quickly look away and begin helping him take his coat off all the while remaining careful about the arm he got shot in. It’s only after I cut the arm of his sleeve off and begin gently cleaning the dried up blood off his arm that John speaks up. “Do you treat all your patients like this?” He asks, a small smile taking over his lips as the question falls from his mouth.

I find myself smiling back at him before moving onto clean the actual wound. “Only special ones,” I tell him, earning a small chuckle back from him despite me pressing gauze with alcohol against the bullet wound on his arm. I choose not to mention it, and instead point out all of my dogs’ sudden fondness for the man. “They really like you,” I point out before examining his wound. The bullet went through the very edge of his arm, avoiding his humerus or anything major. Despite it leaving a decent sized wound, it’s still a pretty easy fix, thankfully.

Telling John he’ll need stitches only gains a hum back from him. Even when I poke the needle through his skin and pull it through, he still fails to react, and instead, John speaks up with the same tone of voice he had earlier. “I love dogs,” John confesses, using his free hand to scratch the wrinkles on my pug’s forehead. “And they’re all so cute too,” he adds, once again, not showing any sign of pain as I finish suturing his arm.

“That’s a good thing, that you love dogs,” I tell him, dressing his arm before taping it. “It shows a lot about someone,” I add, watching as he watches me closely, yet softly. As time goes on, I anticipate his next words, but even now, he still doesn’t mention it.

“I’m sorry we met this way,” John’s apology takes me by surprise, causing me to look away from his arm and stare at him. “I wish this could’ve been under better circumstances,” he adds, a small sigh falling from his lips afterward. “You’re a truly wonderful person; you didn’t deserve to be a target tonight.”

Instead of agreeing with him, I sigh as well before smiling and speaking up. “If it weren’t for you, they would’ve shot me. Over something I haven’t the slightest clue on,” I point out to him, “I know there are things that go on in this city, and I never expected to be in the middle of it, but I am eternally grateful that you were there and able to save me tonight,” Taking his hand in mine, I maintain eye contact with him and squeeze his hand. “You saved my life tonight. Thank you.”

At my words, John smiles back and nods. “No problem, nurse (Y/n),” he tells me, his thumb gently running across the back of my hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll be here to do it again,” he adds, making my smile grow even more as his eyes never leave mine. I don’t doubt the mysterious stranger will hold true to his word, but at the same time, I want to learn more about the man outside of saving me from the city’s dangers.

“And I’ll be here to patch you up again,” I tell him back, giving his hand a quick squeeze before turning to put away all of my medical supplies. “In the meantime,” I start, glancing between him and my kit as my dogs take the opportunity to swarm him. “Would you mind explaining to me a little bit about what exactly goes on in this city?”

John doesn’t respond right away, and instead, he chooses to stand up beside me in spite of the protests from his new furry friends. Putting away the rolled gauze and cotton balls, I look over at him as he appears beside me, only to earn another small smile from him like before. “Too much for one night,” he tells me, placing a gentle hand on my arm as if to stop me from messing with my medical supplies. “For right now, you need to sleep. You’ve had a long day,” he points out. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to make sure you continue to stay safe for the night. Is it alright if I stay here?”

Seeing him gesture toward my living room where all of my dogs sit and eagerly wait for him to join them on the couch makes a small laugh leave my lips. If it weren’t for him saving my life and my dogs being so trusting of him, then I probably wouldn’t be as confident as I am with letting him stay. “Actually, I would prefer that,” I tell him, before nodding at the couch behind him. “Although I don’t think you’ll be alone, unfortunately.”

Just as I say that, all the dogs run over to us and stare up at him, causing John to look down at my dogs with a smile before his expression changes into one of concern. “You need to be bandaged as well,” He tells me, causing me to look down and see my busted up knees once more, reminding me off the dull pain currently shooting from them. “Let me do it,” he further adds before gently pushing me to sit back on the stool just like I had done with him.

“I can handle them, it’s okay,” I tell him with a chuckle. “I’ve handled much worse on myself.”

Despite my words, John doesn’t respond to me, and instead, he opens my med kit back up and begins taking out the same kind of supplies I used on him, all except for the sterilized needle and string thankfully. He doesn’t argue with me on me taking care of myself, but he acts as if I hadn’t said anything to him either.

Strangely, I allow him to take care of my wounds without interrupting him, settling for watching him instead. It’s only when he moves onto rolling my scrub pants above my knees that I find myself regretting my decision. His touch is seemingly nothing more than that of someone who cares, but I can’t help but feel the small degree of intimacy in the moment. I can’t decide if it’s his slightly rough, yet gentle hands grazing my skin or just the close proximity of him on his knees in front of me, but my mind is scrambled right now.

“Told you I’d keep you safe, right?” I hear him say, bringing me out of my stupor and down to him once again. His eyes remain on his task at hand, being careful as ever while cleaning my wounds. Instead of responding, I smile and simply nod back at him, relaxing a little as I do so. He seems to pick up on this, a soft, small smile making its way onto his face as well as he moves onto bandaging the now clean scrapes and cuts.

Once again, I feel his hands touch my skin with gentleness and care, but at the same time, I can’t help but revel in the sensualness of it as well. It doesn’t help that there are times that his touch lingers more than necessary and the smile on his face still has yet to die down. I can’t help but feel bad for the thoughts currently flowing through my mind, but a part of me likes the idea of him staying with me - minus the reason why, of course. Another part of me hopes this isn’t just a one time thing either.

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick imagine #John wick imagines #john wick fanfic #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves #Keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #Keanu reeves imagines #keanu reeves fanfic #john wick chapter 4 #john wick 4 #keanu #keanuverse

[xxshadowbabexx]

Sooo I've never done an ask before...but I saw your post and felt bullied into it (in a good way). How would Soap react to Simon bringing his s/o to meet them? I'm kinda imagining him not believing it at first but then when it finally does hit him the Simon is on his way with them..the sheer excitement would make this man ViBrAte.

Quit Lying, Lt

Sorry this took so long 😭

Warnings: language, gn!reader, i think that’s it

Simon wasn’t sure why you were so insistent in meeting the guys so badly, but he was absolutely weak for you, so when you asked him for the third time that night, he found himself texting the guys to come over. 

He didn’t talk about you often, not because he didn’t love you, because he definitely did, but because he preferred to keep work and home separate. So, to say the squad was shocked when they got the text was an understatement. And they made it know.  

MacTavish: Nah ye can stop joking Lt. Ye dinnae gotta make up an excuse fee us to come o’er

Garrick: Yeah I’m with Johnny on this one, but I’m omw

He didn’t get a response from Price, which was pretty on par. Simon sighed before shutting off his phone, opting out of responding to the sergeants. 

He turned to where you were sitting on the couch. You were reading Les Mis, and were dressed in baggy black sweatpants and one on his t-shirts. 

It’s a simple picture really, but he swears you’ve never looked better.  

He moves to lay on top of you, head resting on your soft belly, and eyes drifting closed as he waits for the boys to come. 

About fifteen minutes later, and Gaz is the first to arrive. Simon begrudgingly goes to open the door, while you seem all too excited to meet the visitor. 

“Hey, nice to meet ya, I’m Gaz and you are?” he smiles while extending his hand to you. You smile as you take it, introducing yourself in turn. Just as introductions are finished, another knock comes from the door. 

This time, it’s Captain John Price. He walks in, giving a curt nod to both Simon and Gaz before turning to you. 

“So you’re the lucky lady, is that right?” He didn’t say it in a condescending, or even a teasing tone, yet you couldn’t help but blush at his words. 

“Y-yeah that’s me,” you smile self-consciously, and it’s quite a sight for Simon. His bubbly, punchy significant other suddenly seems so shy and docile? Strange. 

“Don’t be shy, love, he don’t bite,” he chides, loving how the scarlet creeps up to your ears. 

“I know Si, I-“

“Si?” Gaz interrupts, “Never thought he was the type for nicknames n such. Ya must’ve done a number on him,” he teases, smirking at Simon’s peeved expression. 

“Nougha that, Gaz, Johnny should be here any-“ and then there’s a  knock on the door. Speak of the fucking devil. 

Johnny lets himself in, already talking before he has a chance to look in the room. 

“Love ya, Lt, but ya really dinnae needa lie about havin someone pretty waitin fer ya at ho- holy shite,” he freezes, lost in thought as he takes in the view in front of him. 

“Names Johnny, dove, I dinnae think ya were real if ‘m bein honest,” he chuckles. 

“Oh yeah, and why’s that?”

“See, our lovely Lt is a bit… strange. Not the most approachable. An besides, he covers his face all the damn time so he’s prolly an ugly bastard too. Dinnae think he could snag a bombshell like yerself,” If Johnny notices the way Simon glares daggers into his soul and he speaks, he doesn’t acknowledge it. 

“Hmm, I’d have to disagree with you on those,” you respond with a mock pout gracing your features. 

“Wait ye’ve seen his face?” asks Soap, confused. He’s never seen Simon’s full face, and he’s pretty confident he’s known him longer than you have. 

You shrug, grinning, “Guess you’re just not that special then,” and Gaz whistles at that, laughing to himself at the “wounded” look on Soap. 

The night went on, full of teasing and tipsy remarks as you all drank and ate what random snacks you had in store. And while you weren’t sure about Johnny at first, given how he got on Si’s nerves, he grows on you. You can see that they all really do care about him, and that they’re all happy you two found each other. Even if Gaz is the only one who says it. 

Taglist:

@theloneshadow24 @frogtowne @reap3erslov3 @ladyxtiger @whitetiger846

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost cod #call of duty x reader #call of duty

[persephone411]

The Cellist (Jw x reader)

My second one shot, this time also with actual smut (although I am not sure if it’s good.I’ve never written smut before). Yes, I play cello so I had to write this.

Summary: An attractive stranger approaches you after a concert.

Masterlist

After you played the last note and lowered your bow, the room erupted in applause. You smiled and then stood up from your chair and bowed down with the rest of your string quartet.

“what a lovely performance” Winston, the head of the hotel where you just performed stepped on the stage. It was your first gig at the prestigious continental Hotel and you couldn’t help but curiously look around the audience. Most people wore suits and stood with drinks in the room.

“Thank you for playing. It’s always nice to have these little concerts” the hotel manager explained and you and your fellow musicians smiled politely.

“Now, for the rest of the evening, feel free to Check out our bar or Lounge area. We will then discuss details for further performances.” Another round of applause, then Winston left the stage and the crowd started to dissolve. Quicky you packed your cello in its suitcase, then you went back to your room to store it. In the hotel room bathroom you quicky refreshed your make up, then you went back downstairs to the bar and lounge area, feeling confident in your elegant black dress and heels. At the bar you sat down and ordered a martini. As you looked around the room you could see Josh, one of the violists talk to Winston, probably about further performances and Lissy, who played the viola in your quartet flirt with a blonde short haired woman. You smiled and took a sip of your drink.

“Shostakovich wasn’t it?”

A voice said suddenly. You turned around and found yourself next to an attractive Dark haired stranger. Longish dark hair, a perfectly trimmed beard and. Black turtleneck under a black blazer.

Completely taken aback by his attractiveness you blinked.

“Excuse me?”

The man chuckled, it was a deep, soft noice which sent shivers down your spine.

“The last piece you played. It was Shostakovich wasn’t it?”

Now you smiled

,,yes, very good, someone knows their composers” you smiled up at the stranger who was now sipping on a glass of Whiskey.

“I listened often to him when I was younger, brings back memories, John wick is my name by the way”

“(Y/N), Nice to meet you Mr. wick”

Your gazes met and you imediatly knew how this night would end, or at least how you wanted it to end. In his or your hotel room, with him buried deep inside you. Only the thought of it made you squirm and sent shivers down your spine. You took a sip of your drink to calm yourself down.

As you returned your gaze to John, he was staring down at you, even though he was standing while you were sitting on a bar stool.

“If you were want to I could show you my cello” you whispered to break the tension.

“Yes” he murmured hoarsely. The he cleared his throat and finished his drink. You followed suit and only shortly after you were on the way to your room. On the way you explained a bit about your musical background and your instrument but as soon as you entered the hotel room everything music related was forgotten. The moment the door behind you closed his lips were on yours and his strong arms were wrapped around your waist. You answered his kiss fiercely and John groaned while his hands wandered over your back .Quicky he got rid of his blazer and your Shoes and tights followed quickly.

“Get on the bed” he ordered hoarsely. Completely breathless you could only nod and bit your lip as he stripped out of his turtleneck and slacks. He then got onto the bed and started kissing you feverishly, his lips wandered over your jaw and neck, causing you to shiver out of pleasure. Lightly he bit down and a gasp escaped you. Automatically you started to grind against him, feeling his erection through his briefs against your lower stomach. While his lips teased your sensitive neck, his hands started to tug impatiently on your dress, nearly ripping it off.

“Wait” you panted breathlessly and tried to find the zipper. John growled impatiently and then ripped the dress off unceremoniously. You sucked in a suprised breath and goodbumps formed on your body which was now only covered with your bra and panties. Your chest rose and fell quickly and you were practically shaking out of desire.

“I need you” your voice was breathless and John chuckled deeply. Gently but determined he pushed you further into the sheets and imediatly his body was on top of yours. You closed your eyes as his large hands roamed over your body and opened your bra. Quicky you shrug it off and a loud moan escapes you as Johns mouth found your sensitive nipple, sucking and biting gently.

“John” you whimper and arch your back. He looks up at your face and a smirk lays across his lips. As he continues, his hands wander lower on your body, lightly touching your ribs and stomach. After what feels like

an eternity, he hooks his fingers around the waistband of your panties.

“Lift your hips for me” he orders quietly. You obey immediately, your heart beating like crazy. He quicky pulled your panties off and then you felt his fingers at your entrance.

“So wet for me already” he groaned and started to part your folds with his index. You gasped and wrapped your arms around his neck

“John please” you whined . He chuckled and started to apply light pressure on your clit, which caused you to squirm and move against him. Quickly his touch became more urgent and in mere seconds he had you moaning loudly as he curled his fingers against your G-spot.

“That’s a good girl”

He growled and you arched your back.

“I’m close” your voice wasn’t more than a whimper.

“Then cum for me”

That was all it took for you to loose control. With a loud unfiltered moan you came, wrapping your arms tightly around John as the waves of your orgasm hit you. He continued to finger you lightly, but then pulled back. Visibly exhausted you tried to catch your breath. Your whole body felt heavy and you were ready to fall asleep.

“I’m not done with you little one” John warned. Then he slowly thrusted inside you. You immediately noticed his size, which was pretty much perfect. Big enough to fill you completely, but not big enough to make it painful. You hummed in pleasure and after a bit John started to thrust slowly.

“Just to make it clear, I will not be gentle. This is only the beginning ”

He whispered in your ear and lightly bit your earlobe.

“I wouldn’t have expected anything less” you murmured back and teasingly clenched your walls around him, which caused him to groan. Without a warning he grabbed your wrists and pinned them over your head. His dark eyes met yours and a nearly cruel smile laid on his lips. As he started to move his hips again, his trusts were more forceful, driving the headboard against the wall and hitting your G-spot eveytime

“More, I need more” you begged weakly.

“As you wish” he then pulled out and just as you wanted to complain, he flipped you around and pulled you on all fours. Then he thrusted into you from behind in one swift motion. A suprised scream left your throat. This time John didn’t hold back anything. Roughly he grabbed your hips and took you in the most primal way. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the hotel room and you grabbed the sheets underneath you for support.

“Yes! John” your voice was high pitched and shortly you thought about how probably every other person on the floor could hear you.

“That’s it, good girl. Scream for me” Johns hand found its way around your throat and gently grabbed it, not hurting you but instead showing you that he was in control. His body was draped over yours and you could feel his breath on your neck. His thrusts got more impatient and rougher, which you didn’t even knew was possible. The hand which was wrapped around your throat wanders lower, pinching your nipples and then finding your sensitive clit.

“John” you moaned as he started to circle it.

He only continued and the combination of this cock hitting all the right spots and his finger rubbing your clit finally send you over the edge.

With a loud moan you come, gripping the sheets and whimpering. You heard John chuckle in your ear, he wasn’t slowing down his thrusts and you were close to overstimulation.

“Please…” you whimpered as he continued to fuck your body. He held your hips up and you couldn’t really do much expect take it, your head buried in the pillows and moaning weakly.

“Take it” he growled and continued. You clenched weakly around his cock. This thrusts got quicker and he was panting, then he came too. A deep groan left his throat and you felt him rest his forehead against your back while he was twitching inside of you. After his orgasm was over he took a deep breath and slowly pulled out. As soon as he wasn’t holding your hips anymore you collapsed on the bed. Your whole body felt heavy and you knew that you would be sore tomorrow. As you felt Johns hand on your thigh you wanted to protest, you couldn’t take anymore.

“It’s ok.let me clean you” he whispered and you nodded and slowly opened your legs and allowed him to wipe the rests of his cum away with a wet towel. After tat you lazily rolled onto your other side, facing John.

“Hey” you said awkwardly

“Hey” he repeated your words and then opened his arms invitingly, allowing you to cuddle against his muscular chest.

“You did well” he praised you quietly.

A quiet giggle escaped you.

“I’m honestly pretty sure that everyone in this hotel heard us, I’m not sure if Winston wants me to play here again”

“Well that would be a shame, I loved hearing you play”

Johns voice was laced with amusement.

,,I could give you a private concert”

,,Hmmm. How about my place after dinner?”

,,Sounds good”

#john wick #John wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #fanfiction #smut #my fics

[holylulusworld]

Ready for harvest

Summary: You and your alphas play another game.

Written for @spnkinkevents SPN Omegaverse Week – Day 6 – Friday, April 19 – Slick

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader; Alpha!Sam Winchester x fem!Reader; Alpha!John Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: implied smut/light smut, somnophilia, use of a sex swing, implied taking turns, blindfolds, use of a safe word, aftercare, consensual degrading, daddy kink, a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, established polyamorous relationship, fluff

Catch up here: Hungry like the wolf

A/N: The story takes place in Season 10. John is still alive for my storyline.  

Words: 1,3 k+

SPN Omegaverse Week Masterlist

A snowstorm ruined your plans, but it offered a new opportunity. While stuck at the bunker with your alphas, you came up with new ideas to kill time.

Strip poker. Chasing a fake monster. Strip charade. Naked cooking contests. 

Five days later you’re still stuck in the bunker, unable to leave it because of the snow masses blocking all exits.

Luckily you’re always prepared and got enough food, because and men around to survive for even for weeks without leaving the bunker.

“Good thing I bought all the good shit before the weather decided to fuck us over,” John grins at you. “What do you say, Y/N? Do you want to try it out? I got it in our playroom.”

You chuckle at his eagerness. It was his idea to turn one of the rooms at the bunker into a playroom for you and your alphas.

“Okay, show me what you bought,” you lean closer to whisper in his ear, “Daddy.”

“Careful or I’ll take you right here, in the hallways.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” you grin, remembering the night John pounced on you after you sneaked into the kitchen for a late-night snack. He fucked you right there, on the floor for his sons to watch. “It was so hot and dirty.”

“Because we all took turns,” Sam suddenly stands behind you to grope your ass. For a man his size, he’s fucking stealthy. “So, what are we up to today? Can I sort the books at the library, or did we find something more interesting to do?”

You smirk at Sam.

“I think our omega wants to play,” John snickers. He unashamedly cups his crotch. It’s only you and his sons, and all of you have seen all of him over the years. No one around to judge you for being a pack’s omega.

“Hmm…” you run your fingertips over the sex swing hammock John decided to buy. You feel the soft leather to check the quality. “It looks nice.” You’re unsure for the first time.

“If you don’t like it, we can just chase you around the bunker and play hide and seek,” Dean joins the party. “We thought it’d be nice if you played pillow princess and just enjoyed the ride.”

“Pillow princess?” You snort. It’s not your style to just take it. “How will this work?” You tug at the straps to test the stability of the hammock. “Me?”

“I want you to wear this,” John purrs and holds a blindfold in front of your face. “We want to play guess the cock.”

“You’re kinky, Mr. Winchester,” you snatch the blindfold out of his hands. “Black silk, huh?”

“For special occasions, sweetheart,” Dean looks at the blindfold in your hands. “We want to give you a special night.”

“You want to get your dick wet,” you playfully slap his chest. “You horny bastard.”

Dean chuckles. “You know me so well, baby.”

“I know all of you,” you smirk darkly. “Every dirty little secret and every kink.”

“Do you trust us?” John cups your cheek. “We’d love to give you a new experience. But only if you want it.”

“Only if you promise to not tease me,” you poke your finger into his chest. “Last time you edged me for too long and then, you didn’t let me cum!”

“That was sweet punishment,” Sam taunts. “And we will do it again.”

“If you play your cards right,” you purr and step toward Sam to fist his flannel, “I allow you to massage my feet after you made me cum, Sammy.”

Your alphas smirk as you shimmy out of your panties and fling them across the room. 

“Let’s test this nice swing…”

Your alphas helped you into the shamrock. Your men made sure that you were comfortable and felt safe. John asked you about your safe word and kissed you softly before using the leg and arm straps on you.

It feels like floating. “You look ready to get eaten, doll,” John whispers in your ear. He tweaks one of your nipples, causing you to shudder. “If you guess the cock right, you get a special gift after we are done with you.”

Dean kneels in front of the shamrock to teasingly run his tongue over your clit. He grips your legs tightly, enjoying you cannot close them when he playfully sinks his teeth into your clit.

“DEAN!” you grunt. He’s a teasing little shit, and you will pay him back. “I dare you!”

“How does she taste brother?” Sam watches his father and brother tease you with little licks and touches. “Dean?”

“She’s slicking for us, Sammy,” Dean growls against your flesh. “Y/N is such a good omega for us.”

You mewl at his words. Your chest swells and your body goes lax. “Daddy…”

“I’m here, doll,” John whispers in your ear. “Can we begin, baby doll?”

“Hmmm…” you nod.

“Do you remember your safe word, Y/N?” 

“Papaya,” you murmur. “I’m all green, daddy.”

“Of course you are,” he replies and nods at his sons. “If you want us to stop, you will say it. Remember that you are the one in control.”

John’s features darken as he steps next to his sons. He cracks his neck and stares at your exposed body, ready for them to use you. You’re completely at their mercy, and his primal side loves it.

“Ready sons.”

“Ready if you are,” Dean and Sam say in unison.

“Yes…” you whisper lowly. “I want to play a game with all of you…”

You feel his hands on you seconds later. His touch is tender at first, but his hands get more demanding. He gropes your tits, roughly pinching your nipples. You know it’s Sam because he’s hiding the beast so well, but not with you.

“Fuck me,” you challenge. “Now!”

They don’t speak when they start using your body for their pleasure. It’s part of the game.  

Sam is first. He’s rough, and demanding, but he pulls three orgasms out of your body. 

You recognize Dean next. He takes his time to tease you, fingering you until you cry and beg him for an orgasm, but he will let you wait, and you’ll only find release with his cock inside of you.

John is last. He’s rougher tonight and calls you his whore, and slut. Your alpha was on the edge for weeks. One hunt had gone wrong, and he feared he’d lose another mate.

“Look at this, a whore to go,” John taunts you not only with his cock driving into you in abandon, but his voice making you shudder.

He’s unstoppable. Pulling orgasm after orgasm from your spent body. You’re sore and tired, your safe word on the top of your tongue but you don’t use it. John needs to get this out of his system, and you won’t stop him.

Even if it’s against your alphas’ rules.

In the morning, you wake to John fucking wildly into you. You’re usually more than happy if he slips inside of you while you’re asleep, but this morning is different.

You cry, and whimper. John grunts into your neck, believing you’re into it as you wiggle underneath him.

“John,” it pains you to do it, but you cannot take more, “Papaya.”

He stiffens and immediately slips out of you. “Doll,” he nuzzles you. “I’ve got you doll,” John whispers. “You did so well. We are proud of you.” He wraps his arms around you and cradles you in his arms. “I’m gonna get you clean and take care of you.”

John picks you up to carry you inside the bathroom. “I’m sorry, daddy. It was…too intense.”

“No. I’m sorry,” he pecks your hair. “I was a bad dominant today. I should’ve seen your distress and ended the session last night. It was too much, and…” He sniffs. “Please forgive me.”

“I’m fine, John,” you hide your face in his shoulder. “You’re good alphas.”

John isn’t convinced. He calls for his sons, asking them to help him with you. “We need to do more aftercare. It was too much.” He admits, ashamed. 

“We’re here, sweetheart,” Dean whispers. “We will take care of you now…”

Tags in reblog.

#dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #spnomegaverseweek2024 #a/b/o #smut #polyamory #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #john winchester x reader #Ready for harvest #tw: daddy kink

[yisony07]

Trick-and-Treat

Hello hello, despite still being on break, I wanted to take the opportunity to leave you this "thematic" story. I hope you like it!

"I still can't believe you went to that abandoned house and stole that thing," John said in a mix of laughter and disbelief as he stared wide-eyed at his friend Mark. “How on Earth did you do it?”

“Hehehe… you wanna know?” Mark asked with a smirk on his face, while holding a peculiar jack o lantern wrapped in a blanket, which was black on the outside and red on the inside. “When we get home I’ll explain.”

The sky was turning orange at sunset when both men arrived at Mark's apartment. It was the evening before Halloween and the pair of friends had been invited to a party at one of the most popular fraternities at his college. John took a seat on the couch while Mark placed the flashlight somewhere he considered special; in the end, he left it on a shelf near his bed. Mark returned to the living room.

"Well, this is what happened," and he proceeded to tell his story.

(Mark)

As the sky debated whether to stay blue or turn orange, a young man walked cautiously down the street. He saw around him how the houses were decorated with ghosts, witches, pumpkins, skeletons... the spirit of the festival of the dead roamed around, cheering the spirited and frightening the weak. Mark was one of the spirited ones, and what better time than Halloween to explore an abandoned house?

He left the university campus and headed to the edge of the city. Set back from the street, there was a house whose wood had several cracks and holes, the windows were dusty and legends said that there was a treasure guarded by a sleeping spirit, who only woke up during these times to curse thieves.

"Bullshit," Mark thought with a smirk as he stepped onto the grass that separated him from the house.

When he was in front of the door, he looked back to see if anyone saw him: luckily for him, there was no one. He took out his phone and sent a message to his friend John.

Come see me as soon as you can in this place, I'm gonna explore it.

Mark took a few steps to the threshold, grabbed the cold doorknob, and opened it. It was surprising that he had opened up so easily. Even though it was still afternoon, it was almost impossible to see in there, while the dust on the windows prevented the sun's rays from passing through.

"Now, where will the blessed treasure be?" he asked as he entered. When his foot was inside the house, a wind blew around him which made his hair stand on end and the door slammed shut. "What the...?!" he shouted, but calmed down in a few seconds. "It was just the wind..."

Mark walked around the site covering his mouth and nose to avoid the dust. He was going in a bit of a hurry, but he was careful not to trip over anything, although that task was complicated, since everything was almost in darkness. A creak made him look around, but there was nothing, or so it seemed. The whisper of the wind and the screech of wood with each step he took did not help the situation.

"I must be close," he thought, unable to hold back a cough.

Suddenly, Mark fell to the ground as he tripped on something hard that reached his calves. Getting up, Mark did his best to both wipe some of the dirt off and see what had caused him to fall.

"What an idiot!" he exclaimed, taking out his phone and turning on the flashlight. "Why didn't I think of it before?" he said before pointing at the object.

It was a black chest with gold edges. It was slightly open and a strange smell of rotten pumpkin emanated from it. Mark pointed around, but he didn't seem to see anything more interesting than the typical objects of a house with cobwebs on them and in a deplorable state of disrepair, so he returned to the chest, opened it, and with one hand took out the contents.

"This is the blessed treasure?" he questioned with clear disappointment upon seeing a reddish jack-o-lantern cloaked in a dark cloak.

He checked the chest for anything else. Someone else had probably ransacked the house before him, not only for the "treasure of little value" but also for the fact that the chest was in plain sight... well, that it was not hidden.

Mark took a photo as evidence and made his way back outside. Something strange was that, near the door, Mark heard a low cry:

"MARK!!!"

He looked everywhere with open eyes, but nothing seemed to have been the source. After a few seconds, he heard his name again.

"Mark! Mark!"

It sounded very different from the first call, but perhaps it was his ears playing tricks on him, as these screams sounded like the voice of his friend, John. He opened the door and left the house; he left never to return.

"And then I found you at the entrance…," he concluded with a triumphant smile.

"How cool! Imagine when you tell everyone at the frat party!"

"I'll finally be a legend and be recognized properly," Mark said.

"Well, I have to go, I haven't decided on my costume yet, do you want to come?"

"Nah, I'll see what I wear," and Mark couldn't hold back a yawn. "I'll take the opportunity to take a nap and be full of energy there!"

"Okay, see you around, bud."

And John walked away, leaving Mark alone in his house. Mark went to take a shower and wash off the dirt and smell that the visit to that house left on him.

When he came out of the bathroom, he only put on boxers and night pants, leaving his torso exposed. Then, he set the alarm on his phone an hour before the party, turned off the lights, and went to take a nap on his comfortable bed.

Even for the time, it was unusually cold, which made Mark's sleeping body shiver (although he didn't use fans or air conditioning). The sound of a glass object breaking suddenly woke him up.

"What the hell?" Mark said with a hint of fear. With his gaze he scanned the room and, in the seconds it took him to get used to being awake, he realized that a vase that his mother had given him before she died had broken, and his remains were scattered. on the floor. "How the fuck did this happen?" he asked, as the vase was neither in a corner nor near a window.

He looked around him and noticed the jack-o-lantern he had stolen, seemingly staring at him with an evil smile on his face. It seemed to be emitting a gloomy glowing smoke.

Mark dismissed any idea that it was a haunted object and carefully got up to find the broom and dustpan. He got another scare when, upon entering, he noticed that the flashlight was not on the shelf, but on the desk where he did his homework.

"It can't be, I must be hallucinating..." he told himself as he cleaned and threw away the fragments of the vase. "But just in case..."

Mark took the pumpkin, carried it to the apartment door, leaving it on the floor next to the frame, and returned to his room. He checked the time, there was still time before the alarm, so he lay back down on the bed.

"Maybe it was just a nightmare." he said, covering himself with the sheets.

A weak and low murmur sounded in the room while smoke entered through the cracks in the door. Disturbed by what had happened to him, Mark had not been able to sleep again, so he opened his eyes.

A mass of smoke floated in front of the door to his room in a gentle swirl. The door opened by itself and the reddish pumpkin floated towards him wrapped in the cloak, which extended towards the ground as if an invisible being was wearing it.

Before Mark could scream or escape, the smoke lashed out at him, grabbing him by the limbs. Mark struggled, but the smoke's grip was insurmountable; The pumpkin floated until it was close to his face, the cape gently brushing his legs.

"You think you're very brave invading other people's property, huh?" said a deep voice, the same deep voice that had raised the first scream in the house. The voice seemed amused, as if he were cruelly playing with a new toy, "You feel like you're the coolest thing and that people will admire you for breaking the law, right? Well, it's my turn to steal something from you."

Mark was wide-eyed and lip-trembling, unable to respond with anything more than an "I'm sorry..."

"I don't want your apologies… Trick or treat? You'll get tricked!"

The smoke holding Mark pulled down his pants, revealing a cock that was a little big so as not to be hard.

"Coming!"

The smoke lifted Mark and released him, leaving him in the air for a few seconds. In those endless seconds, all the smoke entered his body through all the orifices: mouth, nostrils, ears, penis, ass... Not even Mark's moans or kicks did anything to prevent it. With an evil laugh, no trace of the gas was left outside. Mark felt like a million bugs were moving inside him as he fell back into bed, or like a boiling river. His body shook non-stop and little by little he felt how he lost control over them. First his legs, then his torso, then his arms…

His body rose on its own and remained standing. One of her hands was massaging her nipples while the other went towards her penis. Mark groaned involuntarily.

"I haven't felt this in a long time..." said the spirit from the jack-o-lantern. "But it will be better when it is complete!" she added, and the head floated to rest on top of Mark's, the cape surrounding him from the shoulders.

"No, no, no..." Mark said, shaking his head from side to side, but his hands left their positions and made his head stay still, so that the pumpkin lowered as if it were a helmet. .

And when the pumpkin aligned itself with his features, Mark fell unconscious.

*Beep, beep, beep...*

The sound of an alarm made him open his eyes. Everything looked confusing. He blinked several times until everything became clear. He jumped up from the floor (why was he on the floor?) While he felt his hard cock and walked to the mirror.

Wait... Mark thought, why am I moving?

"Why?" his voice responded sarcastically, and his gaze fell on the mirror.

The cape fell over him elegantly. He was wearing a formal yet out-of-period suit with its sleeves with flourishes. His head was covered with a jack-o-lantern that served as a helmet.

"Because now I'm in control," the new Mark said, taking it off.

His features were similar to Mark's except for the reddish glow in his eyes and the real vampire fangs he had grown. The spirit ran his new tongue over his lips and formed a smile as he inspected his appearance. He moved his hands to the buttons of his shirt and unbuttoned the top ones, so that he could show off those juicy pecs.

"Looks like I'm ready to party," he said, laughing. A grimace of pleasure crossed his face. "Fuck... how much I missed this..." he added, undoing the strap and opening his pants, so that his enormous bulge under his boxers was exposed.

Wh-wh-what are you going to do with me? Mark asked, unable to control his body.

"Didn't you want to please everyone by showing off your prowess? I'll just give them proof of our... my abilities," he replied as he rubbed his bulge.

NO!!!! Mark shouted, but it was no use.

The spirit went to the party, leaving everyone surprised by the lascivious and shameless way in which he was dressed.

"Trick or treat," the spirit said through Mark, grinning lasciviously at those present and slapping his ass. "I'm ready to give everyone a good treat."

And Mark, defeated, witnessed and felt how his body was used like a slut to satisfy everyone's horny desires, including the incessant pleasure-seeking of the spirit that controlled him.

-The End-

Trick or Treat everybody!!

#ghost possession #gay ghost possession #gay transformation #male transformation #male tf #male body possession #male possession #body possession #body takeover

[opluffys]

Unseen-

somethin quick, posted to my archive, luffys, first. let me know if there are any errors or if it copied weird. pls enjoy :)

tags- semi-public sex, vibrators, closet sex, fem reader.

2.5k words.

-Ghost x Reader-

-smut/nsfw-

Tugging on your black scrubs, you bounced your leg impatiently waiting for the man of the hour. Normally, you were a very patient woman, but when you had a vibrator tucked in your panties and buzzing lowly against your clit, you were eager to get some privacy.

Your leg continued its fidgeting, becoming so exasperating as well as maddening to Soap, who had been sitting next to you, that he had forcefully placed his large hand on your knee, stilling the movements. Having him suddenly touch you almost made you moan, instead letting a small whimper get through your painted lips.

"Quit that." He muttered, not yet removing his warm hand from your knee, even though it's stopped moving.

You didn't look at him, instead starting to worry your lip while solely focusing on delaying your orgasm. Being sandwiched between both Ghost and Soap hadn't been helping you in any sort of way, though.

Once Soap seemed satisfied at your still body, he removed his hand. You felt somewhat saddened at the loss of warmth as well as the light pressure on you.

Realising that you could no longer move restlessly as well as recklessly with Soap next to you, you began to mess with a loose thread on your scrubs. At this point, you were just desperate for anything to distract you from that torturous hum of the vibrator against you.

"Somethin' wrong?"

Soap's voice rang out to you, again. You felt yourself growing perturbed at just how keen he was, but you had to keep up this 'elite' façade.

"No, John. I'm fine." You said, sounding out of breath.

He looked at you, skepticism riddling his stare. You knew he didn't believe you, but you weren't trying to convince him. You were just trying to hold yourself back from throwing yourself over the edge.

You shakily inhaled when Ghost's leg brushed against yours, the cheap club chairs seeming infinitely more uncomfortable than ever before. Not only did you now have Soap's stare on you, but Gaz as well as Ghost.

It seemed as Soap was about to press you further, but the door finally swung open, revealing Price in all of his glory. Boonie hat atop his slightly dishevelled hair like always. You thanked whatever luck was on your side, because it seemed that when Price had emerged, their attention had turned from you to him.

Smiles were seen on everyone in the room, congratulating and lightly conversing with Price. You had already done so earlier when you'd seen him, checking him for injury and fixing whatever had happened to him on his mission.

You sat still in your chair, afraid if you were to stand that you'd end up finishing right then and there, in front of everyone. How fucking embarrassing that would be, but it would at least release you from the continued stimulation on your engorged clit.

But you couldn't take it anymore, standing swiftly from your seat and quickly offering Price your congratulations once again, swapping a bit more banter with him before you excused yourself. You had to come up with a quick lie to make sure nobody suspected anything, so you just said that you wanted to watch out for any patients in the medical bay. It seemed enough for him, so you quickly left.

•

This hallway couldn't be long enough, every slight rub between your thighs had felt like electricity against your skin. It drove you absolutely mad, but you found retribution since you were the one who had gone out with a vibrator in the first place. It wasn't the smartest move on your part, you'd accede to that.

On the way to the medical bay, you were suddenly shoved into a small janitors closet, nearly screaming in surprise until you heard that familiar gruff voice.

"You're not subtle at all." He was ridiculing you, pressing you hard against the wall as his thick fingers dove underneath your scrubs.

You bit back a moan as you pressed your backside against Ghost, feeling his free hand push back against your hips.

"Little whore, you couldn't just ask to be fucked, hmm..?" You heard him fumble with his belt, having your pussy spasm over nothing pathetically at his degrading words. You could barely mumble an affirmation back to him, feeling his deft digits rip your panties at the seams, plucking your vibrator away from you.

"You think this thing can pleasure you?" He asked, his accented voice low and flush against your clothed shoulder.

"No, no... Just you, please, I need it," You begged, your voice hardly a whisper as you stared ahead at the abyssal wall that you were being pressed against.

You felt his thick cock press against your slit, being coated in your excess slick. You whimpered quietly, attempting to push him into your heat by yourself. He seemed to be amused at just how fucking horny you were, already cock drunk off of a garbage sex toy.

"Just me?" He repeated tone mocking while his hand stopping your feeble attempts, "Looks like you were enjoying Johnny touching you. You want him to fuck you?"

You swallowed thickly, thinking of Soap's touch against you as nothing intimacy wise. But you quickly learned that Ghost was a possessive man, and something that seemed like nothing to you clearly meant something to him.

"No." You whispered, feeling your wrists being taken by just a single one of his hands, being tied together with his belt.

"Why don't you just go ask him to just fuck you, love?" He asked, two of his fingers pressing against your wet cunt, hearing you cry in response. "Or maybe," He removed his fingers and pressed his flushed tip against your weeping pussy and began to push in slowly, just until a couple of inches were inside. "you like a crowd?"

You couldn't stop the thoughts that formed in your muddied brain. Thinking of being bent over any surface while Ghost was balls deep inside your heat, your eyes locked on how Soap would be watching your lewd expression, Gaz and Price's gaze on you burning a hole into your very soul.

When Ghost had felt you squeeze his cock tightly, he couldn't stop the wolffish grin that spread upon his features. "That's it, isn't it." He couldn't even conceal the light merriment lacing his tone. "You want Johnny to watch while I fuck you dumb?" He slammed into you at this, hearing you moan loudly, your cheeks wet with salty tears.

"N-no, that's not it," You cried, an embarrassing heat settled on your cheeks at just how dirty your mind was. But you couldn't just quit thinking about how Soap would be watching the two of you, bemusement written across his features, blue eyes attached to you while you would moan Ghost's name like a prayer.

"Good girl, be nice and quiet for me." He praised you lightly as he bottomed out in your wet heat, feeling your gummy walls constrict around his girth tightly. "I don't want to entertain your fantasy, at least not yet." He lowly said, groping the curve of your ass while he pulled out just enough so that his head remained buried inside of you, slamming back into your heat harshly.

Hearing him even fathom the idea of sharing you had you nearly reeling. You never would've thought that he would even think of such a thing, let alone consider the idea. But you really couldn't even form coherent thoughts in your head, everything just focused on how Ghost was ravishing you.

"Fuck, you feel good." He said, his gravelly voice sounding strained as he halted his movements for a second, hearing footsteps just outside the small closet. For a moment, you questioned just how the room had fit both you had the hulking man behind you. You adored it whenever he had praised you, your head swimming as you had repeated his words in your mind even days later. That's just what this man had done to you.

Your moans had gotten louder, feeling his cock brush against every single spot within your core had you sobbing out to him, begging for more. He was already giving you so much, but you were just so selfish and eager for more.

You felt his large palm against your agape lips, pressing down on your loud mouth. "Quiet." You meekly whimpered against his hand, not able to even respond if you had wanted to.

He was stretching you, breaking you open inch by inch. It had hurt, but that pain was so good, that feeling of being so fucking full that it brought tears to your already glossy eyes. It had only fuelled your pleasure.

You cried against Ghost's palm while his cock hung hot and heavy within your heat. Feeling every single vein of his push snug against your most sensitive spots. The only sounds present within the stuffy closet being the slap of his hips connect with your own, his low grunts and groans echoing in the room.

Your dainty hands balled up into fists against the tie of his belt, "Be still for me." He grunted, roughly slapping your ass and hearing you practically squeal at feeling his calloused hand against your soft and supple skin.

He removed his large hand from your mouth, warning you to keep quiet. He then attached his hands to your hips and started to chase his own high, your drooling cunt making a mess all over his cock.

"You're a fuckin' mess," He inhaled sharply as he pushed himself to the hilt, "you like it when I fuck you like this, don't you?" He groaned, his thrusts becoming sporadic as he felt your soft walls fluttering around him. "Yes lieutenant." You breathed, your soft thighs quivering as your slick coated the insides of your thighs and his cock. You felt another abrupt slap at your rear at your saccharine response.

You felt tears swell into your eyes once more, feeling your high rapidly approaching after putting your orgasm off for so long. You had so badly just wanted to finish around his dick, but you knew he wouldn't be pleased with that outcome. So you continued to prolong the ecstasy like feeling that you had so desperately craved.

Just as you had felt his hot and thick length drag against your walls in the most perfect and delicious way. "So good," You mumbled, your eyes almost rolling in the back of your head at the pleasure you were feeling. "you're so deep inside, lieutenant." You whimpered, your expression lewd and embarrassing as you felt his cock kiss your cervix.

Ghost's grip on the fat of your hips had become painful, his thrusts losing rhythm as the sound of your greedy pussy sucking him in filled the closet. "Taking me so good, being fucked like the slut you are."

You could only nod, your back arching more than it already was as your toes curled, and you were about to scream at the top of your lungs as you finished over Ghost. The man was still exceptionally keen, even though his thoughts were clouded by the pleasure you provided, he still had time to clasp his hand over your mouth to suppress your lecherous and scandalous noises.

He stilled deep inside of your velvety walls, feeling you clench over him with a vice grip, a sharp exhale leaving his masked lips while he took a moment to just stay buried in your wet heat.

Ghost's movements picked up once again, detaching his hand from your mouth just has he had done earlier. He had helped you ride out the tidal wave that had been your orgasm. Your hands interlocked with one another, painted nails creating crescent moons in the soft flesh. You tried so hard not to be too loud, as you didn't want some poor unsuspecting soul to wander in and see this lascivious act that the two of you were committing.

You heard him groan deeply as Ghost continued to slam into your warm heat, hearing you try your absolute best to keep quiet. It proved difficult with such a huge cock stretching your insides, stuffing you so full of him that nothing would ever pleasure you again.

He cursed lowly as he felt his cock twitch deep within your heat, showing that he was close to his own orgasm. One of his large hands moved to underneath your uniform and past your brassiere, pinching and groping your soft breasts and hearing you cry back to him. He groaned lowly and pulled out of your cunt, such an easy task proving difficult as he felt your pussy try to keep him inside, your grip on him so tight and snug.

You heard him mutter a string of curses as he pumped his thick and veiny cock, his warm seed painting your backside a pretty white. You felt his cum stick to you and show that he was satisfied, having you sigh blissfully as you moved to attempt to free yourself from the restraints. But a small part of you couldn't help but feel bereft at the loss of him buried deep inside of you.

"Mind untying me?" You said, your chest heaving as you had felt utterly exhausted.

"But you look so pretty like this." He teased, his ungloved hands not making a move to release his belt from your hands.

You huffed in annoyance, trying to stand straight, but your legs buckling weakly, being held up by Ghost. Who had already (somehow) been fully clothed. You looked up into that familiar 'face' of his, dark balaclava blending in with the darkness of the closet. The only light source the two of you had was thanks to the outside light seeping in underneath the closet door.

"How can you even see?" You laughed quietly, eyes used to the dark closet and the little light that had gotten in the room.

"Used to it, love." He replied, and you fought the urge to be deeply impressed by his eyesight, and also embarrassed that he had been able to see you clearly this entire time.

You had remembered what he had said earlier, calling you out on your rogue imagination. Being sat between the two strong men earlier hadn't helped such a situation. You didn't doubt that he had seen the change in your expression as he helped you pull your scrubs back on.

You had been lost in your own thoughts, starting to worry your lip. You had been thinking of what he had said earlier, about Soap being brought in while the two of you had been intimate, and the chance of having a threesome. Just thinking about it had that familiar feeling of wetness bloom between your legs, and it was honestly formidable how he had read you so well.

Looking up from smoothing your uniform, you had seen that Ghost's gaze had never left your tousled physique. You had to conflict with the urge to look away from his stare shyly.

"Were you serious? About what you had said earlier?" You nervously mumbled, meeting his cold stare. He had already known what you were talking about.

"Do you want to find out?"

#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod smut #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #simon riley #ghost cod #fanfic #smut