#glitterypirateduck

[brewed-pangolin]

Ribbed for Her Pleasure

A/N: I can't recall who I saved this Soap photo from. If anyone knows, please tell me so I can give credit. 💛

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Fem Reader

18+ MDNI Explicit Smut, P in V, filthy banter, car sex, slight exhibitionism

Thank y'all for being patient. Seems like the writers block has started to lift a bit, and I'm finally back to indulging myself in Soap filth. Enjoy a nice road trip that turns into an exciting sexcapade. @glitterypirateduck I decided to flip the script on this one. I can't say no to Soap being a menacing tease. @waves-against-a-cliff thank you for sending in my first 🛞⭕💢⭕💢🛞, hope you like it.

Love y'all. And happy Super Soap Sunday!

WC ~2k

4Runner Soap loves to tease while driving on extended road trips.

--

It's subtle at first. His warm hand resting on your thigh as you ramble on about nothing and everything under the sun.

He'll steal a few quick glances of your expression to attempt to gauge whether or not he's having the desired effect on you.

If you meet his steely gaze with equal growing intentions, he'll keep his hand resting on your thigh with a loving squeeze as his attention returns to the road ahead.

Yet if you show no reaction to his ministrations, continuing your verbal regurgitation of the weeks events, he'll have no choice but to press onward. His one hand gripped tightly around the steering wheel as the other moved further down ever closer between your thighs.

You feel his hand meandering ever closer to your clothed heat, but pay no mind to him. Only pointing out the next exit as you once more embellish his ears with mindless and unending banter.

Unperturbed by your unwillingness to give in, he sets forth in motion the one move, his last effort against your resolve to force you to finally surrender to him.

You didn't notice the subtle shift in the vehicles trajectory at first. Too focused on your phone and following the tiny icon as it moved along the highlighted route on the GPS.

It was only when you heard the rumbling hum of the tires over the ribbed outer lines of the lanes did you finally pull your eyes and pull your attention to him.

Before you could utter a singular protest, his hand moved the center of your thighs and pressed his index and middle finger into the inner seam of your jeans. Enhancing the continuous feel of the vibrations reverberating under the metal frame as they culminated into the growing throb emanating within your swelling folds.

"Johnny," you whimpered in feigning protest as his fingertips rubbed over the raised center of your trousers.

"What are you doing? Pay attention to the-"

"Shu' it, lass." Soap barked back with a playful bite rolling off his tongue.

"Rest tha' mouth a'yers fer a minute, yeah. Or I'm gonnae 'ave ta put ta better use."

Words failed you as his thick fingers continued to push into the flesh of your clothed cunt. Still riding the jagged lines on the pavement, making you roll your eyes back and bite your lip to quell the muffled moan threatening to escape within the depths of your throat.

"Ya like tha', bonnie? Ribbed fer yer pleasure by th'roadside?" He mocked with a confidence that never failed to make you quiver.

Feeling your arousal pool within in the depths of your soaking heat as his fingers pressed firmly against your swollen folds. Only managing to moan in response, which further fueled his resolve with a guttural growl, pulling his hands away from your growing pleasure and immediately shifting to take the next exit.

"Johnny, this isn't our exit."

"Nah. Emergency stop. Got a full stauner 'ere, and I cannae focus on nothin' else except tha' sweet pussy a'yers."

You turned to face him, eyes glancing down to focus on thr growing tent in his pants. The sounds of 4Runner's engine revving mirroring the sexual tension between the seats as Soap veered the vehicle into traffic, his eyes desperate and focused on finding a secluded passage for some much needed privacy.

-

It took no more than five minutes to find one that met his growing needs. A meandering dirt road that ended against an abandoned fence with a rusted and weather tempered 'No Trespassing' sign.

You barely had a moment to unbuckle your seat belt as he made his way to your side of the SUV. Inhuman speed fed by an unadulterated need to take you, unceremoniously throwing you over his shoulder with a huffing grunt. Only to be reciprocated by a piercing snicker, accepting your fate as he threw you into the flattened back of the cargo space and greedily began tearing your clothes away.

"Aren't you afraid we'll get caught?" Your pathetic attempt to reason with him only seemed to spur him further into a needy and unbridled rage.

"Fuck 'em. My need fer ya outweighs them bloody regulations." Soap spat back through gritted teeth.

Your exposed form laying out for him as he pulled his shirt over his head to reveal the chiseled frame that always seemed to render you speechless and begging for him.

Feeling the warmth of your arousal pool within your folds, spreading your legs to invite him in with a confident stare that mirrored his own hungry gaze.

"Steamin Jesus, look a'tha. Already fuckin soakin fer me, aren't ya, bonnie?"

"Always, Johnny. Nobody makes me wetter than you."

Soap's cerulean eyes swirled with glorious intent, flickering between your desperate expression and the glistening folds of encroaching conquest as he hastily unbuckled the confines of his trousers. Pushing the fabric of his pants and boxers down to release his throbbing length, a subtle whimper escaping his lips to the cool air hitting his hot flesh as a stream of precum ran down the tip of his reddened cock.

"Yer always so fuckin pretty like this, lass. Spread out an' jus' waitin fer me."

His jaw tightened to sight of your cunt clenched around nothingness in reaction to his sultry brogue. Splaying yourself out for him like a sacrificial lamb while the deafening sounds of echoing traffic echoed from deep within the trees and rolled around the walls of your private encampment.

"Gonnae fuck ya good, bonnie," he purred lowly with a rolling timbre. Ever so slowly moving like a predator as he encroached and hovered over your flushed and exposed form.

The maelstrom churning within the depths of his eyes luring you to his turbulent sea of ecstacy, nestling himself within the crevice of your thighs as he aligned his hardened cock to the puckering hole of your swollen cunt.

"Joh-" your muffled attempt to calm his name was silenced as his mouth sealed over your lips. Piercing the fluttering walls of your pussy in one fluid stroke, bottoming out with a resonating growl while his hands found purchase under the soft bend of your knees.

"Put yer knees on me shoulders, bonnie." He coaxed, pulling away from your lips to guide the shaky limbs of your legs over the broad expanse of his shoulders.

The sudden shift in position moving him slightly within your tight walls as the greedy flesh of your cunt clenched around his turgid length. Rolling your eyes back with a hissing breath, hands flying up above your head to find purchase within the haul of the vehicle as he laid his dense and muscular form on top of your folded and contorted frame.

"Tha's it, bonnie. Fuckin' clench around me. Lemme feel how much ya need me."

As the sounds of his rumbling voice reverberated within your ears, he glacially pulled his hips back. Nearly pulling out completely before penetrating once more and filling the silken depths of your heat in one fluid and languid thrust. 

Forcing a gravelly moan from within the cavern of your chest, fingers wrapping around the metal frame protruding from the haul as Soap braced his hands on either side of your head and steadily began to thrust himself deep into your greedy hole.

“Johnny- aren't ya gonna close- the hatch?” you groaned, gritting your teeth while he picked up his pace. Steadily pounding his hips against your ass, his lips curling into a cocky smile while his eyes glinted at his mischievous intent.

“Nah, bonnie. Gonnae give em- a good show-” he crooned in response with a breathy growl. Disregarding your concern for the outside world, continuing to pound his cock into your welcoming heat as the creaking sound of the suspension began to echo across the shell of your ears.

You attempted to lift your head and catch a glimpse of the tree laden environment around you, only to be forced back down as Soap changed trajectory once more. Your mouth falling open with a silently pleasured protest as the thick head of his cock ran over a sensitive bundle of nerves deep within your cunt that only he had managed to find.

“Holy fuck!” Your voice hollered over the sounds of the croaking suspension, finally giving into the unrelenting ecstasy only he could provide. Arching your back against the carpeted floor of the cargo space, desperate to meet his powerful thrusts and aid in his direction while he maintained a steady, vigorous pace.

“Found tha’ spot. Didnae I, bon? Gonnae make a mess on me cock? Scream me name as I fuck ya real good? Clenchin around me like-”

“Goddammit! Shut up!” 

His unending banter had finally pushed your quiet resolve to the wayside. Reaching your hand feverishly towards his neck, wrapping your fingers around the chain of his dangling dog tags to bring his running mouth down to your lips and ultimately rendering him blissfully silent. 

Sinking your teeth into the flesh of his bottom lip as you wrap your free arm around the back of his neck. Keeping his chest flushed against yours, a thin sheen of sweat forming between the sliding flesh and forcing only his hips to move as he pumped himself into the depths of your soaking heat.

The wet sounds of your pussy emanating off the plastic and fabric haul of his 4Runner, accompanied by the combined gasping breaths from your chests that formed into a blissfully erotic symphony. A duet only heightened by the most pornagraphic whimper you had ever heard against your mouth as his hips began to stutter and his eyes pleaded for his upcoming release.

“Steamin Jesus, bonnie. I’m gonnae come. Gonnae fill ya up.” Soap’s muffled words vibrated against the flesh of your mouth as your free hand gripped into the thick locks of his mohawk. 

Pulling his mouth away to bury his face into the crook of your neck. Letting your lips seal over the top of his shoulder and silence the strained bellow from within your chest as your orgasm suddenly erupted and coursed through your veins like a violent blaze.

Soap’s hot breath cascading against your flesh with a guttural growl, his hands gripping to the carpeted fabric as he bottomed out in one final thrust and emptied himself against the spongy walls of your pulsing cervix. Pulling his trembling body up to let your legs fall and extend, the burn of over exertion flowing underneath your skin as an all too familiar ache began to form within the buried tissue around your pelvis.

“Jesus Christ, Soap. Where the fuck did this come from?” Your voice hushed in the grips of blissful afterglow, hands meandering to his temples while his body steadily began to collapse above you.

“Donnae know, lass. Thinkin maybe, it was them bloody reflectors.”

Reluctantly, Soap began to pull himself off your overly exhausted frame, only to be pulled back down by your clawing hands and laid his head against your sweat ladened and heaving bare chest.

“Not yet, babe. Just rest a minute.” Speaking in a hushed tone, you pressed your lips against the drenched crest of his scalp. Tasting the saltiness against your tongue and allowing your hands to gently run down the curve of his spine as you felt him steadily give into body’s exhaustion. 

“If you don’t rest, Johnny, I’m gonna have to drive the rest of the way while you sleep this off.”

“Haud yer weesht, hen.” He retorted, his brogue quiet and muffled against the supple flesh of your breast. Your lips curling into a smooth smile as you reveled in the gentle sounds of nature accompanied by the everpresent hum of distant traffic.

4Runner Wingman Masterlist

@deadbranch @sofasoap @ohgeesoap @d3athtr4psworld @mini-metal @punishmepunisher @homicidal-slvt @glitterypirateduck @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world @ghosts-goldendoodle @shotmrmiller @mykneeshurt @astraluminaaa @writeforfandoms @tacticalanxiety @thetrashpossum @queen-ilmaree @sadstone-s @simpingoverquestionablemen @dustycrusty09 @foxface013 @haurasha @havoc973 @kkaaaagt @designateddeadend @luismickydees

#super soap sunday #soap squad™️ #ribbed for her pleasure #4Runner Wingman #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap smut #cod soap smut #soap x you #soap x fem reader #johnny mactavish x you #johnny mactavish x fem reader #glitterypirateduck #waves-against-a-cliff #asked and answered #cod fanfic #call of duty #cod

[siriusleee]

I always want more Soap! I like Bodyguard, roommate, neighbor, or coworker/office AUs!

Bodyguard/Witness Protection AU

send in an au and a character, and I'll write the first scene that comes to mind

Johnny finds you with your feet dunked in the pool, the blazing summer sun trying to set on the horizon. You lean back on your hands, concrete digging into the tender flesh of your palms, but you don’t shift as you watch the sky streak through with purple.

“You're supposed to be inside.”

You think he means it as a warning, a soft grown in the undertone of his voice. You barely spare him a glance as he lowers himself down beside you, boots dangling just above the still water. The rest of the pool is devoid of life, the parking lot empty of all cars but the one Johnny drives you around in.

“I got tired of sitting inside. I don’t spend my entire life waiting for you to follow me around.”

“That’s what I’m paid for lass.”

You kick your feet gently, waves rippling from where you sit. Even with the sun setting it’s still hot enough to stick your shirt to your chest with sweat.

“I’m getting tired of being locked up Johnny - I wanted to get some fresh air.”

With a heaving sigh, Johnny pushes himself to stand, hand outstretched for your own. You look at it bored for a moment before letting him envelop your hand in his own, his skin nearly as warm as the concrete beneath you. He pulls you to your feet effortlessly; you pretend not to notice the way he holds your hand for just a second too long.

“C’mon birdie - dinner’s on the way.”

Johnny doesn’t move until you do, falling into step just beside you. He holds his hands neatly behind his back, hovering just over where you know his gun is situated. Behind you, the sun finally falls beneath the horizon, the smallest of rays illuminating Johnny’s face as he holds the door to the motel room open for you.

#my fics #asks #glitterypirateduck #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mctavish x reader #john mctavish #cod soap x reader #cod imagines #soap mw2 #soap mactavish #cod x reader #johnny mactavish

[peachesofteal]

I see what you did there...crossing out the "single" in Light On. ;)

😌 it’s like a little treat, you know?

#peaches asks #light on #glitterypirateduck

[powerfultenderness]

I love the Konig Neighbor series! Will he reveal his face at some point? Thank you!

thank you!

Sort of! He will eventually be comfortable enough to take his hood off, but I don't think I'm going to describe his face or hair in much detail. Mostly because I don't have a solid hc of an idea of his face (other than blue eyes)! Maybe a scar or two, but I think I'll leave the rest of the details pretty vague.

#glitterypirateduck #neighbor!könig #i see fan art of him with short hair and i like it #i see fan art of him with long hair and i like it #i see fan art of him and i like it #lol

[mausinly]

Soap MacTavish x fem!curvy!militarynurse!reader who’s secretly insecure about her body and thinks that Soap is only interested in her to get in her pants or it’s a prank but he comforts her and proves that she’s wrong and how much he genuinely loves her and that he’s been obsessed with her since she was moved to 141’s base?

Never Far From You

John "Soap" MacTavish x reader

Sorry this isn't exactly what you asked for, nonnie, but just know I am already attached to this reader and I will be slowburning this prompt. This story is getting unpacked layer by layer. I know you specified Nurses body type but it's never mentioned in this part. I couldn't find a way to casually fit it in with the idea I had but I will make it the forefront of another piece, don't you worry :]

This is also my submission for @glitterypirateduck and their Soap It Up challenge.

Prompt 2: "Do I make you nervous?"

Prompt 14: "I've been looking for you."

You haven't had to look around corners to check if the coast was clear since high school. It makes you feel childish. Makes you feel like a helpless teenager trying to avoid the prettier girls that whisper and leer when you walk past. You're too old to feel like that.

You don't know if you should be grateful you're not hiding from bullies or be more fearful of the person that's really chasing you.

You don't think you've ever been chased like this before. The girls in the halls never sought you out, and the boys that did only followed to continue jabbing at you as you tried to walk away.

No, this is much different. Too different. You don't know what to do with yourself.

Another nurse told you earlier that someone was looking for you. She gave a knowing smirk, telling you who with a teasing, sing-songy voice.

"Soap MacTavish." She grinned, leaning over the front desk, resting her chin on her hand.

You don't know why everyone thinks you like him. No. No, actually, you know exactly why. He won't leave you alone.

You left one of your patients room—a poor sap going by "Wick" that caught the nasty end of a bayonet—down a few halls to the nearest storage room. You stop before turning the corner, a suspicious feeling bubbling in your gut.

You peek over the corner, met with the rest of the long, bland hallway. He's not here. You don't like the feeling that replaces the suspicion. It's a sinking sensation.

This whole ordeal is eating at you. You know he's around somewhere. Unless he gave up after a while. Took him long enough, in your opinion. Part of you wants to run into him, though, just to get it over with and tell him to fuck off so you don't have to worry about it.

You straighten up again, pulling away from the corner and letting out a heavy sigh.

"So, who're we hiding from?" A horrifyingly familiar Scottish accent said from behind you, low and husky and almost a whisper.

You yelp and whip around to look at him, jumping back a little. Your feet scream to run, but you realize how ridiculous that is. You're an adult, you don't need to run, you're not in real danger.

The way he looks at you is dangerous, though. His eyes are lidded, relaxed as they take you in like he could do it all day. Those striking blues drag up and down your body, landing back at your eyes with such intensity that it makes you want to shy away.

He's so casual it infuriates you. He's just leaning against the wall beside you, arms crossed as he waits for your reply.

"I'm not hiding." You brush him off, tearing your eyes away from him and turning to walk away.

You pause, though, when he lets out a little huff of a laugh, almost a scoff. "Sure." He replied, not sounding all too convinced.

You look over your shoulder to glare at him but he only flashes you one of his little grins, eyes lit up with amusement and brows raised.

A real scoff leaves your own lips and you turn away again and continue down the hall. You suppress the urge to groan aloud when you hear heavy footfalls behind you as the Scot gives chase.

"I've been looking for you." He said, walking only a step behind you.

"That so?" You hum, trying to sound uninterested. Your tone doesn't sway him, it never does.

"Mhm, just asked the lass at the front where they keep the bonnie nurses and figured I'd find you around." He replied easily, and you don't have to look at him to know he's got that smirk on his face.

You hum again, not sure how else to respond. He follows you like a lost dog through the hallways until you reached the storage room. You open the door just enough to slip inside and much to your distain, Soap follows in suit, making a show of opening the door wide and waltzing in like he owns the place.

The storage room is fairly large, filled with rows of files and medications and equipment all broken off into different sections. You wind through the isles and try not to think too hard about Soap's heavy footfalls behind you. It makes you uneasy, fluttery in a way you don't want to think about. You feel like you're being hunted, like a little bunny that pops it's head up at the smallest branch snapping, unaware of the beast lurking just behind the foliage.

You stop walking and quickly turn to him, making him halt in front of you so easily that you think he was expecting it. You don't like that. You're not predictable, damn it!

"Do you need something?" You ask with exasperation, pumping up the attitude and irritation in hopes it scares him off.

You think it works for a second when his smile falters a bit and he has the decency to look a bit surprised by your outburst, but that hope immediately dies when he ducks his head down with a small chuckle that makes your stomach flip. He pulls one of his hands from his pocket and leans his arm on the shelf beside you.

He leans forward just a bit, those overwhelming blues flickering back up to you. "Does there need to be a reason?" He flashes you a lopsided, boyish smile and you feel like the ground is giving away under you.

"You always have a reason." You shoot back, cringing at the way your voice falters.

He notices, eyes looking back and forth between yours as his brows raise a little. "That I do." He replies, voice softer than before.

Soap takes a step closer, back straightening a bit in a way that makes you feel small in comparison. You straighten your back as well, taking a breath that comes in shakier than you wanted. Your attempt at coolness and defiance shatters when his other hand slips from his front pocket and slowly lifts towards you.

He's tentative, eyes holding yours and god, you can't look away. His hand lands on the side of your neck, fingers tenderly ghosting over your skin to see if you flinch away. You don't. You want to. You want to slap his hand away. You want to claw and sink your teeth into him so he'll scurry away with his tail between his legs.

But that won't happen. He'll just drag his way to your exam room and whine until you wrap him up, ask you to kiss it better. You almost want to.

The pads of his fingers drag up your neck and across your cheek. His palm is warm against your jaw and you're frustratingly pliant when he tilts your head. His eyes fall and you swallow when his thumb slowly traces your bottom lip.

"Do I make you nervous, hen?" His voice drops about an octave, low and just above a whisper. His eyes flit up to yours and you're halfway through your brain rebooting when you realize he's waiting for a response.

He isn't, really. He just wants to watch you try.

"No." You manage, a small murmur that in no way can be convincing.

He lets out a soft hum, head slowly tilting as he observes you. You feel like he's picking you apart, piece by piece. Pulling back your hardened shell to watch your innermost workings as they turn and click.

His thumb presses down on your bottom lip, tugging it down a little and he can feel the muted gasp you take. He leans heavier on the shelf beside the both of you and his hand drops away from you. A long, almost pained groan rips from his throat and he pulls back to run his fingers through his mohawk and tug at the strands. He drags his hand over his face and peeks at you through his fingers.

His eyes are narrow and hungry before he tears his eyes away again, waving you off. "Bah. Go get what you were looking for, I'll be finding you later."

You try not to sigh too audibly as you take a few steps back, your body visibly untensing as you put a bit of distance between you two. "Right, see ya." You say, a little clipped before turning on your heel and walking away.

Soaps eyes follow you until you turn a corner and step out of his line of sight, the back of his head falling back against one of the shelves with a thump. Run, little bunny. You're lucky he likes a chase.

#maus writes #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #cod #soap x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #so thankful that glitterypirateduck extended the deadline bc motivation was kicking my ass and it gave me just enough time to finish this 🙏 #i blame ghouljams for making me love soap with darlings who dont want him #i wanna see him work for it and im a sucker for flustered stubborn mcs

[captainfern]

You Know You're Right

Captain John Price x fem!reader

["You Know You're Right" by Nirvana]

[18+]

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• summary - an argument with your bodyguard ends a lot differently than you anticipated lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 6.6k • warnings - fem!reader, thick girl friendly ofc, bodyguard!price, protective/jealous!price, oral [f!receiving], angry!sex but not really, he calls you a slag once i'm so sorry but he doesn't mean it i swear, unprotected (obviously) piv, reader has a breeding kink but price is like babe chill, but he also has one, so uh yeah breeding kink (obviously), reader is on contraceptives tho x, dirty talk, praise, degradation, strong language, 99% porn 1% plot • also to note: reader is a wealthy woman in the english countryside. sorry to all my american cuties but you can be a sexy british heiress for a while x

and the uniform stays on 🙏

my contribution to @glitterypirateduck price writing challenge for this month. sorry for the lack of work recently. uni's a bitch. and sorry for any mistakes lol anyway enjoy x

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You don't know how long John Price had been your bodyguard for. You honestly couldn't recall the amount of days, weeks, months, years it had been since you had first met him.

Of course, you remember the day itself, the events, the moment you first met him. A crisp, autumnal morning with the trees around you alit with oranges and reds, and you stood on the front steps of your grand country estate as a couple of military-grade hummers pulled up in front of you.

You remember a few armed men spilling out onto your driveway, clutching M16's or AR15's or whatever the fuck they were because you weren't paying attention to them. You were paying attention to the man that followed behind them.

A man who, as the armed soldiers-of-sorts fanned out and scanned their surroundings, approached you with a warm smile that melted the early-morning chill from the air. With deep eyes that heated you more than the fuzzy housecoat you had bundled around you.

He offered his hand, and you shook it. His hand was warm too.

And the way he spoke– oh fuck, his voice. Flint striking steel and fire crackling from it's spark. A smoker. A man who, all so suddenly, sounded much too experienced to be the bodyguard of a wealthy woman in the English countryside.

"John Price," he had introduced. "S'a pleasure, miss."

You then smiled politely in return and introduced with your name. He chuckled lightly, commenting something along the lines of oh, I know who you are, miss which made your body grow even warmer.

You had looked up, ignoring the fact he was still holding your hand gently in his, and gestured to the three young men who were pacing around the front of your house, weapons drawn. "Will these gentlemen be staying with you for the entirety of your stay?"

He shook his head ruefully. "No, miss. They'll be gone within the hour. Just ensuring they know their way 'round in case they need to get here in a hurry."

You looked back down at him, arching a brow and finally removing your hand from his. He dropped his arm with a clearing of his throat, bringing his hands up to clutch the top of his vest.

"Will they need to get here in a hurry?" You challenged, almost jokingly, but John saw no joke. A joke about your safety is no joke he'd dear indulge in.

"No," he said sternly and quite quickly, you remember. "But it's just precautions. No, don't you worry, sweetheart. You're in safe hands. I assure you that."

Sweetheart.

Perhaps you remember the first meeting with John Price because it was the very first time he referred to you in such a way. Sweetheart. Now, a little over a year later, he still refers to you as such, but also–

"Morning, love. Sleep well?" He'd ask when you emerge from your bedroom in the morning.

Or,

"There she is. Rough night, pet?" He'd quip when you finally decide to show yourself about late-afternoon after a night out with your friends.

Or even,

"Need a hand with that, darling?" He'd offer when you found yourself struggling to carry the many shopping bags through the door.

Oftentimes, the way he spoke to you, the way he referred to you, was like you two had been married for years. And it wasn't only the way he spoke to you that had you going to bed giggling and kicking your feet like a girl with a crush.

Lingering touches and long hugs and kisses to the top of your head. John was always so warm and welcoming. His presence crackled like a fire in winter, lulling you to sleep or to a state of comfortability. If it was any other man, you wondered if you'd be weirded out by the closeness of him– but because it was John, everything just felt... right.

Riding horses in the springtime, and he'd assist you into the saddle with big hands running down your sides and legs, settling you onto your sturdy steed with a squeeze to your knee. He'd ride on a seperate horse if you wanted to canter through the forest; or he'd walk alongside yours if you were only taking a lazy stroll across the pastures.

Swimming in the summertime, and he'd smooth oils across your exposed skin. You'd revel in the way his large palms moved against you, such a strong man being so incredibly gentle. He'd watch you swim, his eyes occasionally darting up and around, before settling back on you again. He always declined to join you, angling that silly little boonie hat of his over his eyes to shield the sun's rays.

Keeping you warm in the wintertime, letting you snuggle up beneath furs and blankets on your couch while he chopped firewood outside, bringing the axe down again and again until he had enough kindling to keep the fire running for days to come. You'd watch him work up a sweat, muscles stretching and contracting beneath his shirt. Your entire body would flush with warmth.

But sometimes... sometimes the two of you didn't get along so well. And it wasn't your fault, you didn't think. You honestly found Captain John Price so confusing at times, especially now that the two of you had known each other for quite some time.

Partying with your friends, and you'd attract the attention of some poor man who didn't know what he was getting himself into. He'd smile at you, offer you drinks or a smoke or whatever you wanted, his hands beginning to wander as the music seemed to grow louder and louder and the colours around you blurred together. You'd laugh and dance and sing with your friends, this man actively engaging with you and–

It never lasted.

Price would swoop in. Sometimes before the stranger could offer you a drink, sometimes after. Sometimes the man never got the chance to even speak to you, with your bodyguard planting himself firmly in front of you and blocking your would-be pursuer.

You were never one to complain. After all, it was his job to protect you. But you didn't like when, after getting home in the early hours of the morning, he would roughly escort you to your room, ensure you wouldn't be sick, then leave without another word.

He'd be better by the morning.

And this became a cycle. A cycle of trying to combat the winds of a hurricane. Impossible, really. You just had to brace yourself.

But you were sick of bracing yourself. You were sick of getting fucking cock-blocked by your ex-military bodyguard. You were an absolutely gorgeous, rich woman living on her own in the countryside, and you fucking deserved to find someone. You, frankly, deserved to get fucked.

"I'm going out tonight," you told Price as you emerged from your bedroom. You were already dressed, looking impeccable as always.

Price lounged in one of the chaises positioned in the hallway outside your bedroom. He glanced up from his phone, glanced back down, and then did a double take. His eyes shot up again and he immediately pocketed his phone as he got to his feet, knees cracking with the speed of it all.

"I– you said you were just going out for a few drinks with friends?" He countered, eyes skimming up and down your frame. But not for any longer than a second, you don't think. Forever the gentleman, his eyes honed in on your face, his gaze already beginning to melt the icy facade you'd put in place.

But you steeled your nerves.

"I am," you said with a smile.

"You're going into the city? I'll have to organise a driver–" Price began, but you cut him off with a shake of your head. You didn't live too far from the main city, but it was still a significant drive for simply a few drinks.

"No, no, we're just popping into town," you said, referring to the small, quaint town less than five down the road. "Having a few drinks at the pub. Nothing big."

You and your friends were regulars at the pub. And John frowned. He knew that the other regulars– a group of men you'd become familiar with– would also be there.

You clocked his frown and your smile grew. "What's the matter, John? Am... Am I not allowed to go?"

He huffed. "No, you can go, but just let me–"

"Oh, no need," you said with a batter of your eyelashes. You told him you'd organise your own driver. "And you don't need to come. I'll only be a couple of hours."

John's jaw tensed, and you could see the muscles moving beneath his facial hair.

"No," he said firmly. "I'm coming."

Your smile faltered. "No, you're not. I'm fine, John. Have a break. If it makes you feel any better, I'll be back before midnight–"

"That doesn't make me feel better," John growled. "I... I have no problem with you going out, but I need to come with you. I– I am coming with you, end of story."

Your smile had disappeared completely now. You then looked him up and down. He was dressed how he usually did, even around the house. A suit complete with the trousers and white dress-shirt. But he wore his kevlar vest over top, and with a belt stocked with a couple of sidearms and ammunition, he didn't exactly look inconspicuous. At least he wasn't wearing his boonie hat.

"Price..." You began. "Please, just... I'll be fine, okay? Can you just let me do something on my own–?"

"No."

You frowned. "John–"

"It's my job to protect you, is it not?" He cocked his head, daring you to challenge him. "You hired me to protect you. You pay me to keep an eye on you since there are a couple of real fuckwits out there that would want to hurt you, right? So why the fuck would I let you leave here alone?"

He took a step forward, opening his arms in a gesture of so?

Your frown deepened. "I deserve some privacy, you know. I appreciate that you look out for me, but I want to be able to enjoy myself in public without..."

John waited, but urged a mocking, "Without...?"

You scoffed. "Without you hovering over me. I just want to... enjoy myself, okay? I want to meet people–"

"Oh," John suddenly said, and his tone was less of realisation, more of discovery. "I see."

You scowled. "What?"

"You want to get fucked, is that it?"

Your mouth dropped open. "I–"

"No, no, it's okay, sweetheart. It's okay," he tutted, shaking his head as you stood there, embarrassment suddenly festering in the pit of your stomach, as he appraised you like you were a whole new person. He sighed. "You want me gone so I don't stop the lads from flocking to you. Is that it? You want me to let you go out on your own so you can get one of those boys to fuck you?"

The shame in your stomach, pulling and pushing at your conscious, fizzled out and was instead replaced by a new flame of self-determination. You took a step closer to your bodyguard and jabbed a finger into the taut material of his tac vest.

"You have no right to tell me who I can and cannot fuck, got it? I can do what the fuck I want. I'm a grown woman, Price," you seethed. "Secondly, yeah, I might just get one of the guys at the pub to fuck me. I bet they would, you know. I bet he'd bend me over his knee and–"

"Stop talking," John rolled his eyes, and the gesture made you a whole lot angrier. But he continued before you could say anything else. "You're not going. You can throw a fit if that's what you want, but you're not going."

Throw a fit. You wanted to slap him for that. But you didn't. Even though you were growing angrier and angrier at the man before you, there was something inside your brain that prevented you from going that far. Maybe it was the fact that... seeing him so protective of you... made you feel...

You shook your head to send the thoughts away. You're meant to be angry at him, babe.

"Fuck you," you spat, since those were the only words that managed to come to the forefront of your mind.

He grunted. "Yeah, I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you? Just a needy fuckin' slag looking for a quick fuck–"

You raised your hand to slap him. You wanted to strike your palm across his handsome face. A slag? Who the fuck does he think he is–

Price grabbed hold of your wrist before you got within inches of his cheek. And, quickly, you realised you'd made a huge mistake.

In seconds, he had your soft body pinned against the wall beside your bedroom door. He pinned you there with his body, hard and firm against yours, one large hand holding your wrist and nailing it to the wall, while the other grabbed your other wrist and held it by your side.

His face was close to yours. You could smell him. Rich oud, the warmth of some sort of spice note, expensive tobacco–

Your core fluttered.

Oh, fuck off–

Price shoved a knee between your legs, parting them and forcing a yelp from your throat at the way he dragged himself impossibly closer. The taut muscle of his thigh beneath you made you scream within your head, silently begging that the warmth of your clothed cunt didn't give anything away because-

You were fucked.

Fucked off, yes. Angry at him, yes.

But he was also turning you on in a way that no man has ever done before.

"D'you want'a try that again?" He whispered, the words ghosting across the heated skin of your face.

When you didn't respond right away, he pushed his knee up higher, shifting his hips closer to yours, humming out an impatient, "Hm?"

You shook your head.

"Didn't think so."

You frowned. "You're such an arsehole."

"I know," he said, words hushed. "But you fucking love it, don't you?"

The both of you paused. Breathing jaggedly, you looked at each other for what felt like an eternity, a storm passing between the two of you, complete with the crackling of thunder. You could feel him breathing against you, and you willed yourself not to look down at where your bodies were flushed together. Instead, you remained calm.

You watched the way his eyes darted across your face. How they lingered on the curves of your cheeks, or the part between your lips. His eyes scanned over your nose, your eyes, your everything. You could almost hear his brain trying to keep up.

You could feel your core growing warmer and warmer, arousal pooling and no doubt tangible. Without a doubt he could feel it against the material of his trousers, soaking through to his thigh. It was already drenching your underwear, and probably ruining his suit.

God, you loved him in a suit.

"What are you waiting for?" You whispered your challenge, suddenly overwhelmed by the heat between you.

Price groaned and he released his hold on your wrists. Instead, he grabbed the fat just above your hip in one hand and wrapped the other around your jaw, before he was pushing forward and slamming his mouth to yours.

•º•º•

John Price didn't know how long it had been since he fell in love with you. He honestly couldn't recall the number of days, weeks, months, years it had been since the moment he first saw you.

But of course he remembers what the day was like– how beautiful and welcoming and soft you looked, bundled in your expensive housecoat with a sliver of your leg exposed to the chilly autumn breeze. He remembers the bright smile, tired but bright, you had offered him as he walked up to you and extended his hand. He remembers the way your hand felt within his, and how he didn't want to let go.

He remembers how his heart lurched in his chest when you introduced yourself, and he recalls feeling nothing but sincerity for the fact a pretty woman like you needed to be protected by someone like him. Oh, but how gorgeous you looked when you thanked him for his service. The almost-guiltiness didn't last for long.

You were always so sweet to him. Even when he put you in your place, told you what you could and couldn't do for your own safety. You were constantly being kind to him. Respectful and polite and understanding.

You were such a good girl.

And as the days passed, as they blurred into weeks and months and finally a year-ish together, you got all the more sweeter. But–

But you now knew him. You knew what made him tick. You knew exactly what to do to get your way. Saunter through your home with a pretty, coy smile and a soft hand on his bicep and of course, sweetheart, we can go into the city today. Or a well-cooked meal of his favourite food, paired with a pint if you really wanted to get into his good books, and okay then, love, I'll call your driver to take us.

You knew how to deal with him. And he let you, of course.

But as the months went by, Price couldn't help but grow resentful. His pretty girl, being chatted up by some absolute mingers in a big-city nightclub. Or maybe even the village idiots down at the local pub. How dare they?

He found himself growing more annoyed that they approached you, instead of worried that they could cause you harm. Sure, they were still a threat, and Price was doing his job. But also, also, they were encroaching on what was his. What belonged to him.

His good girl.

And he supposed he should have seen this coming– an argument bubbling up and over about it all. About how he was always there when you just wanted to socialise and have a good time. How he was always turning guys away from you. It wasn't fear, and John understood that. But he was firm in his thinking– you were his.

Oh fuck, you even looked gorgeous when you were angry at him. When you were spitting and hissing like a feral cat, and even with your claws unsheathed and swinging right towards his face, he found you to be the most ethereal being on the planet.

His pretty girl.

He didn't mean to call you a slag. Of course he didn't mean it. His anger conjuring into stupid fucking words that he couldn't keep hidden in his head. And even then his anger wasn't to you, but to the local fuckwits who haunted the village pub in the hopes of spending time with you.

Delusional cunts.

When John caught your wrist and pinned you to the wall outside your bedroom, he didn't mean to escalate things. He was angry at himself, angry for saying such filth to you. But then–

But then he felt it. His heart hammering wildly against his ribcage and your chest rising and falling rapidly. He felt the way you squirmed against him, how you arched off the wall and how your barely clothed pussy seemed to throb against the muscle of his thigh. He could feel your warmth through his trousers, feel your need.

His needy girl.

And he was more than happy to indulge you. Hell, he was more than happy to indulge himself.

•º•º•

John's mouth on yours was hot. Liquid heat passing between you, sparks flying as he pulled you closer by the hand on your jaw. He split your lips with his tongue, pushing inside with just as much strength as you anticipated. His lips against yours smeared your gloss, sticky and sweet, mixing with the spit that threatened to drip as he licked into your mouth again and again, chasing the taste of you.

You moaned into it, eyes shut and hands wrapping around his neck. Fingers delved into his hair, tugging and pulling and angling his head to get yourself closer. He groaned in response, pushing his pelvis closer to yours, and you could feel him growing in his suit trousers.

Then, you began to move. You followed him blindly, your eyes still closed as you attempted to keep up with the languid rhythm of his tongue. He licked at your teeth, your tongue, your lips, committing your taste to memory.

You'd never been kissed like this before.

You were walking backwards, guided by Price's large hands. He had two hands on your waist now, holding you flush to him as he slowly edged you back, back, back until the backs of your legs bumped into something. Your bed.

You broke the kiss, surprised, and turned your head to the side to see that yeah, he'd navigated you both back into the warm, lovely-smelling oasis of your bedroom. As you looked to the side, your bodyguard continued his mission, dragging his lips along your jaw and then latching his mouth onto your neck.

He groaned, tasting more of you. He'd imagined what you'd taste like, imagined the saltiness of your skin his lips. He now knew what your mouth tasted like. All was left now was–

John forced himself away, grumbling to himself and gently pushing you back onto the bed and into a sitting position. You smiled up at him, and he shifted to stand between your parted legs, cupping your face in two hands. He bent down to place one last kiss to your lips, before slowly– with cracking knees and a shallow grunt of effort– he lowered himself to his knees.

His hands dragged down your body. They rolled over your shoulders and arms, skimming lightly over the curves of your breasts and stomach, running over the fat of your hips and thighs. When his knees hit the, thankfully carpeted, floor, he gripped your knees and gave you a couple of comforting squeezes.

"Alright, sweetheart?" He asked, voice husky and full of yen– desire and longing mirrored in his eyes.

His eyes on you, his hands dragged back up your thighs and to where your skirt sat bunched a few inches below your hips. He pinched the fabric, toying with it while waiting for your response.

You nodded at him. "M'alright."

"Can..." He dropped his eyes for just a second to look at your skirt, before raising them again. "Can I take this off, please?"

You nodded again, followed by a whispered yes, please. You then raised your hips for him to pull the fabric down and away from you, shuffling back to rip it down your legs and fling it across the room. You giggled at his enthusiasm as he returned to his original position.

Price groaned low in his throat and leaned forward, holding your thighs apart. Your underwear still on, he pressed his face against you, his beard tickling the softest part of your inner thighs. His nose pressed onto your clit, his lips placing a kiss to your clothed core. This forced a moan from your throat, and you gripped your duvet for some kind of stability.

He kissed at the patch of arousal that had bled through during your altercation in the hallway, his nose nudging against your clit as he decided to swipe his tongue against you. He groaned and you keened, a high pitched mewl, your legs twitching either side of his head.

"Pretty girl..." He whispered, the rumble hitting your clit and making you mewl out again.

He kissed at your clothed cunt again, tongue smoothing along the thin cotton fabric until the entire area was wet with his spit and your arousal. Your legs twitched beside him, pleasure sitting fuzzy in the base of your tummy, and you wondered– no, you knew that he could probably make you come in your fucking underwear.

But he didn't. Whether you were thankful for that or not, you weren't entirely sure. But he eventually, and rather torturously, pulled away for long enough to pull your underwear down your legs. He let it fling from your ankles, not caring where it landed, before he was pushing back between your legs once more.

This time, he licked a fat stripe up your cunt before latching his mouth to your clit and sucking. You cried out, a hand shooting down to grab hold of his hair, fisting it tightly as he laved his tongue over you. His mouth was hot, burning at your core, but your body had now been set alight– the flame of pleasure coursing through your veins, heating your body. Your legs trembled now, thighs flexing either side of his head, his facial hair scratching and tickling you all at once.

John's movements were quick. Quicker than you expected. He seemed desperate for it as he licked back down your cunt and stuffed his tongue into your hole– in and out, in and out– before curling and repeating the process. You moaned at his well-timed movements, never leaving you dissatisfied or overstimulated in the slightest. Price was amazing.

He kneaded the fat of your thighs as he ate you out, enjoying the softness of you around his head. His cock was hard and leaking in his trousers, and one of the reasons he wanted you to quickly come on his tongue was so that he didn't bust a fat load in his fucking briefs. He couldn't handle that today. Not when he'd been waiting so long to have you.

"John," you moaned, stretching the syllables. Your hips bucked, his nose catching your puffy clit. You ground against him, moans bubbling from your throat as you tossed your head back. You rode his face, locking your ankles together at his back and anchoring yourself with one hand on the bed and the other in his hair.

He moaned in response, eyes on the way your body writhed above him. He loved the way you bucked up, wriggling in search of your coming high. Fuck, you looked gorgeous.

John screwed his eyes shut and focused on curling his tongue in and out of your sopping hole. He felt his cock twitch. If he looked at you again, he was sure he'd come.

You moaned sweetly above him, orgasm building tight in the base of your tummy. You continued rocking your hips, the mattress creaking quietly beneath you. But the sounds from your mouth, coupled with the wetness of Price's mouth on your pussy, was all that rang true in your ears.

"John, fuck– oh fuck, please–" You mewled, edging on a whine. Desperation was creeping in. You hurtled towards your high.

Then, you felt deep vibrations rock through your core (unbeknownst to you, John had mumbled a that's it, come for me, baby against your hole). The band of pleasure inside you snapped, and with one last push of your cunt into his face, you came.

You moaned John's name, head still tossed back as pleasure fizzled through you. Your thighs clamped down on either side of his head, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you came on his tongue. John happily buried himself deeper into your heat, tongue licking you slowly through your orgasm.

He had looked up, chanced it, and watched you come. He managed to hold on and not come in his briefs, but he could feel the front of them growing tacky with his precum.

A few moments later, ensuring your orgasm had been well wrung from your beautiful body, John withdrew from your cunt. He unbound himself from your legs and got to his feet as you blinked up at him, dazed and fuzzy.

"Feeling good, sweetheart?" John asked, gently and carefully guiding you further up the bed. You crawled with him until your head hit the pillows at the top of the bed and John knelt between your legs, his hands rubbing circles over your bare thighs.

"Yeah... good..." You replied lazily, eyes dropping down to where you could see John's cock straining in his trousers. The sight made you moan, and you attempted to sat up, but Price stopped you.

"Hold on, sweetheart..." He murmured, placing a kiss to the top of your head before helping you out of your top. In companionable silence, he discarded the garment and went to work unclipping your bra, letting your breasts spill out as he discarded that too.

He groaned, happily to himself, reaching forward to roll one of your pebbling nipples between his fingers, his other hand groping the opposite breast.

"Fuckin' beautiful..." He muttered, and then leaned forward to kiss you.

You tasted yourself on him as he guided you back down. A soft tang, a subtle sweetness in his saliva. You moaned, fingers once again moving to card through his hair and stroke the back of his neck, just above his shirt collar.

While you kissed, Price slipped one hand between you and unbuckled his belt. He let the belt hang open while he deftly unbuttoned his trousers and peeled them open just enough for him to reach into his briefs and pull his cock out. He hissed into the kiss, his hand on his own achingly hard cock causing pre to dribble down his shaft.

"Fuck..." He muttered into your mouth, and you pulled back, shifting to look between you. The image of your bodyguard still dressed in his uniform, but with his thick cock hanging out, was a sight to behold. You moaned, hips bucking involuntarily, the heat of your cunt coming within centimetres of the head of his cock.

Price moaned loudly, immediately dropping his hand to fist the base of himself while positioning his hips against yours. He ran the leaking tip, ruddy and flushed red from his arousal, through your soaked folds. At the same time, you both moaned.

"Oh my god," you breathed, still looking down. Price, eyes on your cunt, continued to smear pre along your slit, running his cockhead up and down, revelling in the way your arousal leaked around him.

"S'alright, pretty girl..." He uttered, not looking up from where he circled his tip around your hole. "S'alright... I'll make you feel good. I'll make you feel good." Then, he finally looked up, eyes boring into yours. You felt your stomach flip as he smiled warmly. "That's what you need, isn't it, sweetheart?"

His words dripped mirth. You whined, knowing where he was going with this.

"Just so desperate for some cock, s'that it? S'that what's got you all riled up?" John poked fun at you, referencing your argument beforehand.

You gave in and nodded, shifting your hips and catching the tip of his cock against your entrance. It made both you and Price release sounds of pleasure, but he held strong, gripping himself at the base and pulling his cock away an inch.

"Use your words," he instructed, voice husky, ash-laced. "Use your fucking words, love. Tell me how desperate you are for my cock. How much of a fucking whore you are for it."

The unexpected degradation punched a moan from your lungs. You babbled, "Y-yeah, fuck– need your cock so bad, John, please."

"Yeah?" Price teased, running the head of his cock up and down your folds again. "You need this cock?"

He pushed the head of his cock into your hole, and you moaned, arching your back. But he stopped there, the flared tip of him laying dormant inside. Your cunt fluttered around him, arousal leaking down the curve of your arse. You whimpered, attempting to push your lips down onto him, but a firm swat to your thigh had you pausing in place.

"S'this the cock you need?" Price asked, voice dark. "Or 're you wanting t'get fucked by some stranger? Want one of the lads down at the pub to fuck this tight cunt? Eh, sweetheart? That's right, isn't it? Actin' like a fuckin' slut lookin' for a quick fuck–"

"No, no, no, please–" You said quickly, trying not to get distracted by the way Price's accent was strengthening as your cunt fluttered around his cockhead. "S'only you! Need you, John, please. Only need you 'n– fuck, only need your cock."

Price growled, pleased, having itched that jealous spot inside him. That's right, that's what he wanted to hear.

His good girl.

"That's fuckin' right, baby. Good girl–" John pulled out and then pushed back in, slowly parting your walls for the girth of his cock. You moaned and he leaned forward to kiss you, being as gentle as he could while splitting you open. He murmured against your lips, "That's a good girl. Yeah, that's it, sweetheart. Doin' so well..."

The buckle of his belt clinked as John picked up his thrusts, stretching you apart on his cock. You could feel the bunched fabric of his trousers and briefs against you with each of his thrusts, and when he curled over you to kiss you, the feeling of his dress shirt and tac vest against your bare chest had a shiver rippling through you.

He kissed you hard, just as he had done in the hallway. This time, a bit of saliva did escape your mouth, rolling from the corner as you parted your mouth to moan, Price's tongue licking over your lower lip as the head of his cock punched up against the base of your cervix.

Just like everything else about him, the sex was hot. Price radiated warmth. The space between your bodies was heating up, and you could feel the light sheen of sweat covering your skin. Beneath his beard, Price's cheeks began to burn read, a bead of sweat trickling from his hairline. His hips moved quickly, but with precision, shunting you deeper and deeper into the mattress, making it squeak and groan.

His cock hit all the right places, too. Your walls hugged him, tight and hot and wet as he plunged up against your womb. John could feel you squeezing him. Feel the sheer hold you had on him, physically and otherwise. He grunted and groaned to himself, his balls already beginning to tighten, his lower back starting to strain from the effort.

"John..." You whined, second orgasm already fast approaching. You felt yourself beginning to tighten up again, your muscles pulling taut as the band of pleasure in the base of your abdomen began to expand. The drive of Price's cock was pulling it further and further. You were so close.

And when you were this close, John always seemed to know what to say and do to push you off the precipice.

Expertly, your bodyguard moved his arm downwards to press a couple of fingers to your puffy clit, rolling it beneath with a gentle stroke. He drew gentle circles that made you spasm beneath him, a panting moan filtering from your parted, spit-covered lips.

He continued the drive of his hips, cock hitting the best spot inside you. Bursts of light, of pleasure, appeared behind your fluttering eyelids, the intensity of it all making it hard for you to keep your eyes open. But you did– you forced your eyes open, lids drooping. You locked eyes with Price, and he smiled down at you in a way that was probably meant to be comforting, but it only turned you on more.

"My sweet girl, just look at you," Price cooed, still slamming into you. "So gorgeous. Such a pretty girl, an' you look even prettier getting stuffed with my cock, don't you?"

You nodded, delirious now. You wanted nothing more than for him to come inside you and–

The thought made you moan loudly.

He chuckled. "S'that right?"

"John, fuck–" you moaned out. "Fuck, please–"

Come inside me, you wanted to beg him, but the tip of his cock at the plug of your womb and his fingers on your clit had your vision whiting out as the band in your stomach snapped again.

You came hard. Legs locked around his waist, the fat of your thighs and stomach rippling with his strong movements, you came. Arousal gushed out around his cock, the sensation forcing an unexpected whimper from you. The slick walls of your cunt clutched the girth of him, squeezing with each fluttering pulse of your erratic heartbeat. Fuzzy pleasure washed over you and, just like with his mouth, he stroked your clit through your orgasm and stopped right at the brink of overstimulation.

But you gained no mercy after coming.

John redoubled his efforts. With two strong arms either side of you, he rutted into you with renewed energy, now chasing his own high. His balls, almost painful at this point, smacked against the plush curve of your arse, with the head of his cock leaking inside you.

Oh fuck, he wasn't wearing a condom.

He knew you were on contraceptives. Of course. He knew almost everything about you now. But the thought–

"John–!" You all but sobbed, wriggling beneath him, becoming impatient. Not because you wanted it to end, but because you wanted him to end inside you. "John, please come inside me."

"Fucking hell," he grit out between clenched teeth, teetering on the edge of collapse.

Stuffing you full of him. Coming right up against your cervix, flooding your womb. Filling you out, watching you grow fat with his kid. Laying claim to you, how you were truly his. His pretty girl. His good girl.

Not today.

But the thought alone had Price coming.

"F-fuck, take it, sweetheart, jus'– fuckin good girl, take my cum, baby–" Price muttered, pumping his hips as he came. He filled you with the same kind of warmth he radiated. Comfort and security, maybe.

You moaned quietly once Price'd emptied himself inside of you, and you relaxed your legs so he could flop to the side. Cock still inside you, softening just a bit, Price curled you into him, his face resting in the crook of your neck, your legs entangled.

The two of you caught your breaths, breathing in each other's scent and the pungency of sex. Your eyes opened and closed lazily, the heat of Price's body lulling you to sleep. But you forced your eyes open when Price pulled back– only to change positions. His suit rustled as he pulled you in against him, and you wished you could run your fingers through the hair on his toned chest.

After a little while, you felt Price kiss the top of your head.

"Feeling alright, love?" He asked, and the sincerity in his voice had butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"Yeah," you replied. "More than alright. I... thank you."

"Thank you," Price said, nuzzling into the top of your head.

•º•º•

The two of you basked in each others company for what seemed like hours before a buzzing broke the haze of whatever dream you were living. Peeling yourself away from Price for a moment, you reached over to your discarded purse and fished your phone out, finding it alight with missed calls and messages from your friends.

You almost felt guiltly.

"Cancel," John grumbled below you, seemingly already knowing what you were looking at. "You're not going out tonight, are you?"

"No, 'm not feeling up to it," you said, smiling.

John, burying himself into the crook of your neck once more, arms wrapped securely around you, smiled too.

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

this was the first long-ish fic i've written in a while so forgive me if it wasn't my usual best lolol. anyway thank you for reading and make sure to go check out the other @glitterypirateduck submissions for this writing challenge

lots of luv <3

#captainfern #captain john price #john price call of duty #price smut #captain john price x female reader #captain price smut #captain john price smut #captain john price x you #price call of duty #call of duty #cod smut #captain'snirvana

[brewed-pangolin]

Captain MacTavish in a safe house with reader? Maybe they fell in a river and must derobe...for safety sake! My other ask was going to be related to taking care of each other, so maybe just combine?

I love taking care of things where one person helps the other shower or bathe, haircut, stitches, etc.

Then if it leads to sexy time even better

The plot for this is somewhere embedded within the ask. What follows is nothing but smut.

You're welcome.

Have a good day.

18+ MDNI Explicit Smut. P in V, cockwarming, needy Captain MacTavish (what!?!)

The words to describe how you currently felt were as follows.

Full. Loaded. Filled to the brim. Stretched.

In other words; cock stuffed.

They danced around within your minds periphery as your wet heat wrapped tightly around the hardened length of his cock.

Straddling his waist as he sat comfortably in an old wooden chair, a worn-out blanket draped around your midsection to shield you from the cold as your body steadily adjusted to his glorious intrusion.

"John," you managed with a hushed whisper against his temple. Pressing your still clothed chest against his densely pocketed vest. Clawing your fingers into the nylon fabric of his back as his calloused hands kneaded into the supple flesh of your hips.

"Easy, m'lass. Let's take this nice an' slow." Soap breathed, voice muffled against your skin as he pressed his lips into the crook of your neck.

Guiding your silken heat along his cock, halting to feel the greedy clench around him as he twitched deep inside the cavern your cunt.

Dragging the most sinful whimper from the depths of his lungs as it rolled over on a quivering breath. Parting his lips to seal his mouth over your flesh. Sinking in his teeth, tasting the salt of your skin with a moan as you sank further into his lap.

"Fuck, Captain." You exhaled on a strained whsiper, a slight tinge of pain on your tongue as your hips began to roll against him.

"Aye. I am yer fuckin Captain," he groaned into your flesh with a rumble deep in his chest.

Thick, calloused fingers clawing into the flesh of your hips as he forced you back down onto him with a ferocious grunt. Forcing a hissing breath through your teeth as your hips stretched against the broad section of his waist.

"Okay. Are you trying to fuck me, John? Or do you just wanna cock warm it for a while?"

His silence that followed was defeaning. Yet you felt his lips curl against the wet flesh of your neck as a muffled moan slowly escaped from his throat.

"Think I'll go fer th'latter fer now, m'lass. Ya feel too fuckin good."

"Feeling a little needy, are we?"

"Haud yer weesht."

You obliged to his abundant deprivation with a kind eyes and a devious smile. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders and mirroring his own stance by laying your head within the crook of his neck.

Feeling the pulse of his steady heart within the walls of your cunt as you held each other in a scene that looked both erotic and heavenly intimate.

Captain MacTavish Masterlist

#soap squad™️ #aksed and answered #the brainrot of Captain MacTavish #loving me some needy captain #glitterypirateduck #captain mactavish #captain soap mactavish #og soap #09 soap #captain mactavish x you #captain mactavish x fem reader #og soap x you #og soap x fem reader #mw2 #cod fanfic #call of duty

[ivymarquis]

The Neighbor

Hello friends I fucked off for a month but I’m back and I bring Price smut as an apology for my absence. @sky-is-the-limit’s “Im here to do what your boyfriend cant” prompt has lived in my brain rent free ecer since I read it and while I didn’t follow it verbatim, I did keep in spirit with the theme :)

Also womp I was gone for the Price challenge by @glitterypirateduck but this actually checks off a couple of the prompt options (first time being intimate, a confession/secret is discovered/revealed) so I’m submitting it.

There are a lot of tags. Make sure you read them.

Pairing| John Price x Reader Rating| M Word Count| 4.8k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Accidental voyuerism by virtue of living in an apartment, the reader has a dogshit boyfriend at the beginning of the fic (there is no cheating), slut shaming (from the dogshit boyfriend), these two idiots are down bad for each other, sex toys, oral (F!receiving), unprotected PiV, gratuitous squirting because I’m me, not really heavy on BDSM elements but mentions of the following: bondage/restraints (John uses his hands, nothing crazy), something akin to subspace from how good the nut is, aftercare, John is a prick to the now-ex, very brief angst due to a quick misunderstanding, very vaguely implied somnophilia, rampant abuse of italics. Lemme know if I missed anything.

His neighbor is clearly used to Price being deployed.

She’s a sweet thing, really, and on the whole isn’t that disagreeable of a neighbor.

He just has one problem with her (not even her, really) that is a thorn in his fucking side- her boyfriend.

The boyfriend was not an issue when they first met- wasn’t in the picture at all.

And no John most assuredly hasn’t had it out for the guy since Day 1. The fact that John had gathered himself up to ask his pretty neighbor out when he came back from his latest mission, only to find out about the new boyfriend, does not color his impression of the other man. He’s grown and this is not the first time his advances have been turned away for whatever reason.

But there are, to his knowledge, no true redeeming qualities about the man and he is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.

He catches bits and pieces through the walls. The boyfriend is not attentive, caring, or sweet to her. She is treated as a guest in her own home, and twice he’s heard bellowing shouts that had Price at the door with his fist banging against it- both to shut him up and make it exceptionally well known that if the boyfriend thinks intimidating a woman is going to fly, that Price will not hesitate to kick the door in.

The most appalling part of it all is that John has a front row seat to just how atrocious he is in bed.

For the life of him John does not understand. It’s not even like the lad’s a good lay.

He’s heard many stories of women tolerating absolutely atrocious behavior from the muppets they were with because he knew how to make them see stars.

That is exceptionally not the case here. And John is rapidly finding his patience wearing thin at continually being subjugated to his pathetic performance.

So what the hell is it about the boyfriend that keeps his neighbor so enamored with him?

John stares at the ceiling, watching the blades of the fan turn as he tries to tune out the thumping of the headboard against the wall.

He thinks that if the man was just a bad lay and completely incapable of getting her anywhere, that would be one thing and John would continue to be frustrated but ultimately understand. But it’s the way he seems to actively ruin it anytime she has the audacity to enjoy having sex with him that truly grates on John’s nerves.

It’s not often, but even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then. The thumping of the headboard is accompanied by her sweet voice moaning lowly in short staccato notes as the boyfriend appears to finally be doing something right.

The thumping comes to a halt, and John groans in frustration.

“Why’d you stop?” He can hear his pretty neighbor lament through the thin walls.

“Why the fuck are you being so loud? Trying to give the neighbor a show?”

John squints his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. The fucking muppet can’t do anything right.

If the neighbor was his, John wouldn’t give a fuck who heard. Let all the neighbors know that he could fuck the sense clear out of her pretty little head. John could show the muppet what loud is.

“No! I’m not trying to do anything- it just felt good,” she defends herself.

“Well, be quieter about it, no one needs to hear that. You sound like a whore,” the muppet snaps at her irritably, and John is nearly at his fucking limit when the god damn headboard starts to thump against the wall again.

“Get out.”

Oh.

John is impressed- pleasure and pride coursing through him as his sweet neighbor stands up for herself rather than letting that ungrateful swine continue to berate her.

Good fucking girl.

“What did you just say?” The thumping stops.

“You don’t get to call me names. Get off of me and get out.”

For all his sins, it seems even the muppet has a line he’s not willing to cross.

There’s a shifting as he presumably pulls out and gets off the bed- the words are muffled but the tone is clear. The muppet isn’t above laying into her verbally though consent is (smartly) a line he won’t toe.

And good thinking on his part- John would probably tear through the drywall and turn him into a chew toy had that conversation gone in any other direction.

The door slams loudly, announcing the boyfriend’s departure.

John can’t help but keep his attention on his neighbor to see what her reaction is going to be. It is taking every ounce of self control he has to not follow the boyfriend and wring his neck in the parking lot.

There’s no conventional guide for how to address this situation with your neighbor. ‘Hello, I’ve fancied you for quite some time and that ungrateful prick somehow swept you up before I got the nerve to ask you out. I've had to hear you have the most lackluster sex ever for the past several months, and equal parts want to check in on how you’re doing emotionally after his latest stunt, and also want to bend you over and pin you to the mattress until you’re squealing. May I come in?’

He can’t say he is too surprised to hear things slamming about in the apartment- his pretty neighbor sounding more pissed off than upset, catching snippets of “Who the fuck does he think he is, talking to me like that” and “Motherfucker couldn’t find my clit with a map and a headlamp but can find the audacity to call me names-”

Okay, John has to fight back the urge to laugh at that last one lest she hear him. She’s quite the viper when (finally) provoked, and it just endears her more to him.

She doesn’t appear particularly distraught, the slamming and huffing and muttering concluding with her tossing herself on the bed.

It’s a very common occurrence that after the neighbor’s rendezvous with her lazy boyfriend, John is treated to a show where she finishes herself off with her toys.

The boyfriend, like many inadequate men, is threatened by them and John has heard the snide remarks.

Hilarious, he finds it, that a man incapable of getting her off is so adamant that she gets rid of them.

She hasn’t listened, clearly, as the low sound of her vibrator can be heard through the wall.

John is soon graced with the sound of her panting moans. His cock stiffens in interest at her voice, which is a frequent occurrence. She makes such pretty noises, mewling and whimpering as she works herself up.

Tonight is a whirlwind of emotions for his pretty neighbor, and at the end of the day her no-good boyfriend left her high and dry.

John will gladly enjoy the consequences of the boyfriend’s actions, one hand wrapping around his cock and beginning to stroke in time with her whines.

What he wouldn’t give for a chance to make her see stars. He’d be so good to her.

The reality of his job makes dating a logistical nightmare, part of what stayed his hand for so long.

He’s not blind. His neighbor is kind and sweet with a killer smile and wandering eyes. He’s caught her more than once ogling him when he’s returned home in uniform, or more nondescript tactical clothing.

Feeling her gaze on him always makes him puff up with pride, enjoying holding her attention no matter how fleeting. If he takes his time after a run and makes a point to pull the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his brow where she can see it, that’s his business.

So John thinks he’s dreaming when he hears that lovely voice whimper his name from the other side of the wall.

He stiffens, quietly waiting to see if he hears it again.

“John- Oh, fuck- please,” is all he needs to hear before he’s well and truly lost any semblance of patience.

Only having the presence of mind to dress himself enough to not warrant any errant looks from the other neighbors, he is at her door in a second.

It’s only after he knocks that he realizes he may well have killed whatever momentum she’s built for herself- given her muttering as she approaches the door- but he fully intends to make up for the stolen release.

She opens the door without looking through the peephole, obviously expecting it to be the ex based on the vitriol poised to spill at John’s chest, approximately eye level with where the (hopefully ex) boyfriend would be.

Once again he has to stifle a laugh, finding her a comical vision when the anger on her face melts away as her eyes flick up to his face with the realization that it is him at the door and not the object of her ire.

“What are you doing here, John?” Christ, he’s always been a sucker for pretty doe eyes. If he held even an ounce less of restraint he’d be mounting her right here for everyone to see.

“I’m here to do what your sorry excuse of a boyfriend can’t.”

Even as he reaches out to pull her in for a kiss, he’s watching her body language- gauging if she stiffens or shifts away.

She doesn’t.

In fact, her arms loop behind him and pull him closer, tugging on his hair and his shirt.

John’s not wasting any more time than he already has, walking her backwards into the apartment and shutting the door with his foot before reaching back to lock it- he’s got no desire for any interruptions from wayward former boyfriends.

They separate for a moment as she paws at the hem of his shirt, clearly wanting it off of him. John is all too happy to oblige, preening under her attention. He’s always had the stockier build of a man who’s fitness came from utility in the field, opposed to the hard defined abs of someone who spends most of their time in the gym.

It’s cute, the way she has to pry her eyes up to his face- clearly liking what she sees and flustered by the fact that John can see her staring.

“I broke up with him,” she clarifies.

“Good,” is his simplistic response, although if John’s being honest with himself he doesn’t really care about the finer details. The little prick never deserved to have her and John finally has his chance to prove himself worthy.

“The bedroom’s this way,” she prompts between kisses.

Their clothes are peeled off in turns as they stumble towards the room. The layout is inverted to John’s own flat nextdoor, so despite having never stepped foot inside before he guides her to keep her from crashing into something behind her.

By the time they are collapsing against her bed, they’re stripped of everything except a scant thong on her and his own boxers.

She’s just so delightfully soft in his grip, John can’t keep his hands or his mouth off of her.

The feeling is reciprocated as she pushes up off the bed to grind against him. As much as he’s relishing in them dry humping and making out like teenagers, he’s wanted her for so long and now that she’s finally willing and pliant underneath him, he’s itching for a taste of her.

Kissing his way down her body- starting at her jaw, the column of her neck, across her collar bone, down her sternum; latching onto each nipple and teasing them to hardened peaks before continuing his path down.

He’s compelled by the urge to turn her into a chew toy as he reaches her belly, although he stifles that urge and keeps his teeth to himself.

He can’t quite resist giving a small nip as she squirms, clearly excited by the implication of where he’s heading.

There’s a damp spot on her underwear already as he kisses along the waistband while his hands tease with the elastic on either side of her hips.

The sound of her breath hitching in anticipation makes him smirk, attention drifting further south.

The fabric is in his way as he presses a kiss against her clothed cunt, gripping handfuls of her hips to keep her still as she bucks in his grasp.

“Easy, sweetheart- we’ve got all night,” he soothes before moving his attention up one thigh to the backside of her knee.

Those sweet thighs are splayed open for him, giving John unfettered access as he continues to tease.

“When’s this sweet cunt been eaten last, hm?”

He knows he’s heard her give that undeserving muppet head, but can’t recall any reciprocation occuring. There’s not much that can shock John at this point in his life, and he’s willing to roll the dice by dragging up her now-ex because he knows this poor thing hasn’t been eaten until she’s begging him off in ages.

“I couldn’t even begin to tell you,” she answers breathlessly, anticipating having her thighs twitching in his hold.

Out of the corner of his eye, John spies a torn condom wrapper that didn’t quite make it into the bin. Well that keeps him from having to ask two questions, then. Smart girl.

“What a shame,” he tsks lightly, peppering kisses back up and down her thigh.

Deciding that she’s waited long enough and he’s had his fun being a tease, John is quick to remove the scant lace and pull it off of her legs before tossing it to who-knows-where.

The sounds she makes as he makes a meal out of her is music to his ears. Each hitched moan and breathy whimper makes him stiffen in interest.

His attention shifts to focus on her clit, tongue circling the sensitive nub as his hands hold her hips in place.

As focused as he is on what’s right in front of him, it takes a moment for John to realize that she’s stifling her noises. One hand is fisting the sheets beneath her while the other is clamped across her lips.

Well. That simply won’t do.

The ex may have trained and shamed her into silence, but John didn’t make it as a military captain without learning how to break someone else’s bad habits.

He ignores her whimper of protest as he stops, one hand abandoning the softness of her hip in favor of grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from her mouth.

“None of that,” he admonishes gently, pressing a kiss to one thigh. “Let me hear you.”

“I-I’m too loud,” she protests and for a split second John sees red.

To his credit, he does not leave her wet and leaking on the bed to go bludgeon her ex to death with a blunt object.

“No such thing, sweetheart,” he soothes before having a thought to tease her. “Who are you worried is going to hear you?” He asks kindly, a shit eating grin as he speaks again, “the neighbor?”

Her wide eyed expression is thoroughly scandalized and John can’t fight the chuckle that escapes him.

He hasn’t released her wrist yet, deciding that it’s time to get back to his meal. If she abandons gripping the sheet with her free hand to cover her mouth again, he simply plans to hold both of her wrists.

It’s tentative at first, still not entirely trusting John at his word that he wants to hear her.

But John is all for positive reinforcement as a motivator, crooking his fingers to stroke that one spot that makes her see stars to encourage more from her.

She’s a quick study, although when she releases the sheet John is watching her like a hawk.

Rather than clasping over her mouth again, John is pleased when her fingers end up burying in his hair.

More than happy to let her guide him, John takes his cues from how she pulls at his hair. The feel of her thighs twitching as she breathes in staccato breaths is all the reward he needs.

“You’re getting close,” he says against her cunt, pointing out the obvious before getting back to work. She’s anxious, he thinks, the closer she gets to her climax. Poor girl doesn’t know what to do with herself with an orgasm she hasn’t had to put all the work into.

“D-don’t stop,” she stammers, rewarded immediately with John redoubling his efforts.

He’s not going to stop. Pretty thing like her deserves nothing less than laying on her back and enjoying getting her cunt eaten out.

“O-oh fuck,” is his only warning before she’s gushing on his face and John is like a kid on Christmas morning.

He doesn’t even know if she realizes she’s squirted, too caught up in the pleasure of her high.

He’s always thought it was hot- now that he knows his pretty neighbor is a squirter he is more than willing to get on his knees and pray to whoever is listening that this isn’t a one time event. He’ll do anything to get her to keep him.

Even as her high fades he doesn’t let up on her, continuing to work his middle and ring finger inside of her. All he wants is to see her cum- wants to see those eyes roll as she squeezes them shut in anticipation.

Despite pulling his face away from her wet pussy, he doesn’t leave her clit unattended for long before his thumb is gently circling in time with the thrusts of his fingers.

Kissing his way back up her body, John can’t help but be pleased as she pulls him in to make out with him. Snatched gasps and bucks of her hips grace his ears as he works her from orgasm to the next, the wet sound of his palm slapping against her.

“John Im gonna cum again,” she whimpers in warning.

He feels like a god with the way she stares up at him reverently, eyes wide and desperate for another climax.

“Come on,” he goads, “Show me- let me see your face when you cum.”

Christ if her leg twitches any harder it’s going to start vibrating, serving to only encourage him.

“O-oh,” she mewls, “God- don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t-“ she’s pleading with him like he wouldn’t sit at her feet if she asked him to.

The bewildered look on her face is darling, and John nearly finishes untouched; he's so wound up it’s not going to take much.

A few choice thoughts keep his own eminent climax at bay and buys him enough breathing room. She bucks and trembles in his hold, a high pitched squeal escaping her as he proves not only can he make her cum twice, but he can make her squirt like a faucet twice.

As soon as she’s starting to come down from her high she’s pulling at him, drawing up her knees to spread her legs in invitation.

“Greedy girl,” he teases as he kisses her- wet fingers abandoning her cunt in favor of manhandling her, wrapping her legs around his waist as he positions himself.

“Please, please, please-“ she begs so prettily for him, pleading for him to do exactly what he’s been fantasizing about for months.

He’s not a small man and mindful of that fact, but she’s well prepped and takes him easily. The desperate whimper that escapes her sears into John’s memory.

The buildup of everything finally gets to him as he wastes no time setting a steady pace.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Let me hear you,” he encourages as she cants her hips in time with his, whines of pleasure escaping her on each thrust.

“John, please,” she begs, eyebrows furrowing in pleasure as she watches where they’re joined.

“Eyes up here,” he instructs and Christ he almost loses it when her gaze flicks from between their bodies up to his face.

His hands find hers, fingers lacing together as he lowers his torso in order to kiss the ethereal creature underneath him.

She whimpers into his mouth, her sounds only encouraging John.

Everything about her is warm and inviting, from her soft skin to her warm cunt and the way she sings for him at every thrust.

Maneuvering them so he can grip both her wrists with one of his hands, the other immediately dives between their bodies to find her clit again.

His pretty neighbor has spent months not having an orgasm she didn’t give herself, and John is determined to prove to her that he can give her as many as she can handle.

“John I can’t cum again,” she pleads even as her thighs shake on either side of him.

“Yes you can,” he assures her. “One more time for me, yeah?”

Now, should she insist she’s done and satisfied then John would leave her clit alone and finish up their fun. As it is, though, she nods in acquiescence before the trembling in her thighs increases.

“Good girl,” he praises, fingers continuing their steady pace around her clit as she creeps closer to the edge.

She’s babbling in his ear as he presses a kiss to her temple and he knows she’s almost there.

“Good girl,” he praises again, a cocksure grin pulling at the corners of his lips at her immediate response.

“My good girl,” he ups the ante, testing her response to John staking a claim on her. And God did it ever work. That last little bit is all it takes to finally tip her over.

She clenches down on him like a vice and John immediately loses it, groaning low as the haze of his orgasm washes over him.

It’s everything he wants- she’s everything he wants as he recovers enough from his climax to finally notice that the bed is an utter mess beneath them.

It’s not his immediate concern however, more interested in soothing her through the come down of her high. She’s shivering underneath him, eyes glossy from the intensity of her last orgasm.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmurs reassuringly. “Just breathe for me.”

He gathers her up in his arms, listening as her heartbeat relaxes in time with his own.

Eventually when enough time passes she’s more alert and happily snuggling against his chest. After giving her a chance to rest he herds her along to the bathroom so she doesn’t give herself a UTI. She tries to brush him off but her legs are taking their sweet time cooperating again.

Of course, she’s not exactly a recruit taking a piss test so he gives her her privacy and she’s able to return on her own albeit on shaky legs.

John pets at her head idly, attention drifting in post coital bliss as his hand strokes down along her back.

“I can’t believe you’re actually in my bed,” she giggles deliriously after a stretch of quiet.

“Only reason I wasn’t here sooner was because of that muppet,” he assures her. He doesn’t want her thinking that this is a one time thing for him. He’s wanted her for so long he can’t possibly be expected to turn her loose at the end of the night.

“I only dated him because I didn’t think you liked me,” she scoffs at herself.

“Oh, it was nearly the first moment I laid eyes on you. But with my work I kept talking myself out of doing anything,” he tells her. “Kept telling myself you deserve better. And then you brought the muppet home and kept him around,” John grouses good naturedly at her. “Think they say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”

“I plead temporary insanity,” she jokes, snuggling closer against his chest. “But I got rid of him. And you finally made your move.”

He hums in agreement, sleep pulling at him now that he has her tucked up against his side.

John doesn’t remember falling asleep but he wakes with a jolt to the sound of pounding on her door.

He’s only been out for an hour or so when he checks the clock on the nightstand, his neighbor sprawled out next to him.

Well, now he knows she snores. The sound is light enough to have never heard it through the wall, but curled up next to him she’s like a cat purring loudly in his ear.

And he’s exceptionally pissed right off at the fact someone has woken him up. Especially considering he has one guess who it is.

He fully debates answering the door buck ass naked to teach the prick a lesson about banging on doors after midnight but settles on tossing his joggers on.

Much like when she opened the door for John, the ex is automatically trained at where her head would be rather than looking at John’s face.

“My eyes are here,” he quips sarcastically. “Why the fuck are you banging on the door this late.”

“Why th-“ the ex starts to parrot back before cutting himself off. “Why the fuck are you in her apartment? Why isn’t she answering?”

“She’s asleep,” John answers simply. There’s no obligation to explain the why and how he ended up in her apartment.

“What the fuck do you mean she’s asleep? How is she asleep after she just dumped me? And why the fuck are you here?”

The boyfriend (the ex boyfriend, he thinks with glee) is either oblivious or…

Well. The ex boyfriend is oblivious. Let’s just keep it at that.

“I’m here because you can’t do your job right. She’s asleep because I can. What part of that is confusing?”

“That stupid slag’s been fucking you behind my back-“

“No.” John is somewhat mindful of not giving a full on “screaming at recruits” bellow, but his voice booms into the corridor outside the apartment anyway. “You watch your fucking mouth. This” John gestures vaguely at his own presence in her flat, “just happened after she dumped you. You don’t get to hurl insults.”

“She hopped off of my cock and straight to yours- what the fuck else is it?”

“You couldn’t get her off,” John hisses in annoyance. “I’ve had front row seats to your shitty little performance more than once. Not 5 minutes after you leave and she’s having to handle it herself.”

“I can’t be expected to compete with a fucking vibrator!”

“Well I sure as shit didn’t need one to get the job done. Poor girl could barely get her legs to work to go to the loo and not give herself a UTI. Your skill issues are what started all of this.”

“You know what? Fucking have her. I don’t need this shit.”

Ah yes, because John needs the ex’s permission to date a newly single woman. Absolutely. That’s entirely how that works.

“Never needed your blessing. Now fuck off. I’m trying to sleep.”

The ex responds with a two finger salute as he spins on his heel and storms off.

John is almost tempted to grab him by the back of his neck and turn him into a chew toy. Given his military career, his patience for muppets giving him attitude is virtually nonexistent.

But the siren call of his pretty neighbor is a stronger pull than the muppet can ever hope to achieve. John’s succeeded in his mission to run the prick off, and he’s going to try to get a few more hours of sleep before seeing if she’s interested in another romp in the morning when she wakes up.

The bedroom is dark and poorly lit but John immediately picks up on the silence.

Rather than being sprawled out and snoring like when he left her, she’s quiet and curled into a ball.

She’s awake.

“Sweetheart?” He calls softly.

She jolts, fabric rustling from the sheets falling off her as she sits up.

“You’re still here,” the surprise in her tone cuts, although he knows she didn’t mean for it to.

She seems to realize how that comes across and clarifies further, “I- I heard the door shut.”

It falls into place for him then- she woke up to the sound of the door and John nowhere to be found. She thought he’d left.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he consoles, making his way back to the bed. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he assures her while gathering her back into his arms.

Sleep comes back readily once the two of them are situated back in the bed.

Come morning, John’s got the patience and the presence of mind to throw a towel on the bed. He finds out for himself that his neighbor makes the prettiest noises with her arse propped up in the air and her face still buried in her pillow.

He can’t help but laugh later when she texts him that one of the neighbors made a noise complaint.

Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡

#ocaptainchallenge #john price x reader #captain john price #price x reader #cod x reader #x reader #implied plus size reader #take a shot every time john calls the reader pretty #but dont or youll get alcohol poisoning #also I used ‘turn into a chew toy’ 3 times and I dont care :) #my writing

[crashandlivewrites]

I Need Your Discipline

My participation in @glitterypirateduck's SoapItUp event! I was initially gunning for Captain MacTavish but it wasn't coming together. Maybe I can get a second one out before the deadline.

Pairing: Soap x fem!reader

Summary: Soap 'accidentally' sends you a dick pic. You decide to teach him how to take nicer photos. Using prompt 29: "Was this your plan the entire time?"

CW: MDNI 18+ content, NSFW, cunnilingus, fingering (f receiving), unsolicited dick pic, consensual sending of nudes, coming in underwear

Word Count: 3.6k (it really got away from me whoops)

Captain Price had your attention all the way up until your phone buzzed in your pocket. Frowning, you took it out. You hadn’t been expecting a message from anyone and usually during meetings, you flicked it to only allow messages from fellow army personnel. Maybe you’d forgotten this time. 

One glance at the screen told you that Soap had messaged, which wasn’t surprising. He often got bored and liked to pick jokes during Price’s long debriefs. However, when you snuck a glance at him, he wasn’t paying any attention to you like he usually would be while waiting for a reaction. Frowning, you opened his message. 

It was his dick. Holy shit, Soap had sent you a picture of his penis. Suppressing a snort and shutting off your phone, you jerked your head up in confusion, trying to catch his attention, but he was acting completely engrossed with your Captain’s words. Sure, he’d always been light-hearted and playful, rubbing shoulders flirtatiously and throwing an arm around you any chance he got, but you’d also seen him out at the pub when he was actually trying to get in someone’s pants. And it had never seemed that way when he was taking to you, as much as you wanted it. Until now. 

Glancing back down at the message, you realised there was another message after it. 

> Just got back. Ready to hit pound town?

This time, you only just managed to cover your snort with a cough, earning the briefest of glances from Kyle sitting to your right. Quickly, you type a reply. 

&lt; Not the welcome home present I was expecting from you, MacTavish

Soap reached into his pocket a few moments later, pulling out his phone with a smirk on his face to read the message. His face then morphed into confusion before his eyes visibly widened and snapped up to meet yours. Raising your eyebrows, you tilted your head questioningly at him. His fingers flew over the keys. 

> Fuck. That wasn’t for ye. I’m really fucking sorry

&lt; Ouch. Nice to know I’m not good enough for your dick pics 

> Shoulda told me ye were feelin left out. Coulda sent one to ye earlier. Would that make ye feel better? 

&lt; Nah. Received too many dick pics in my time. There are nicer ways to take nudes 

Soap lifted his head, brow creasing and lips pouting as though insulted at your statement. You grinned back at him, shrugging as you waited for him to reply. 

> My dick is pretty, thanks. Plenty of girls have liked it 

&lt; Didn’t say that. Just saying there’s nicer ways to take hot pics than just a straight up dick shot 

> Oh yeah? Like what?

Biting your lip, you wondered if you really wanted to do this. You watch Price momentarily as you thought through the pros and cons of sending your teammate a nude of your own. 

Pro: you’re sending a hot picture of yourself to the guy you’ve been crushing on

Con: he may not be interested in you

Pro: if things go south, you also have his dick pic to hold ransom

Con: he’s less likely to be embarrassed by his dick getting passed around base. Especially when it looked like THAT.

You could feel his eyes boring into the side of your head, waiting for your response. sucking in a deep breath, you scroll through your private photos, selecting one of your favourites. The picture accentuated your body as you were leaning against a wall wearing a pretty thong with one hand draped across your chest to squeeze your tits together and cover them over the middle. Grinning to yourself, you sent it to him. 

You knew he’d received the image when a choked off cough sounded from his side of the room. Glancing over, you could see Ghost thump him over the back as Soap sheepishly held up a bottle of water. 

“Sorry. Down the wrong pipe.” He wheezed; cheeks tinged pink as he met your eyes before returning to his phone. 

> What the fuck

> Warn a man before ye send shite like that

> Is that really you?

> Fuck me I ken ye were bonnie but darlin

> Ye got me bricked rn

A warm rush of arousal surged through you, knowing that one little photo had sent him into a spiral. Smirking, and refusing to meet his heavy gaze, you focused on Price for the remainder of the meeting, ignoring the fact your phone was buzzing incessantly. 

When Price finally dismissed the team, you didn’t even have time to push yourself up before the loud scrape of Soap’s chair filled the room and he marched over to you, nudging you out the door. His grip was like a vice on your arm as he steers you until he found an empty hallway. He pushed your back against the wall. 

“We gonna talk about what that was?” He holds up his phone and waves it in your face. Shrugging, you leaned back against the wall, arms folding across your chest. 

“You sent it first. Was just showing you what a good picture looks like.” 

“My pictures look nice.” His tone was indignant as he frowned, glancing down the hall to check no one was coming towards you.  

“Sure, because you’re decently attractive. That’s the only reason they’re passable.” 

“Decently attractive…” He huffs, looking haughty as he crossed his arms. 

“Why did you find my photo hot?” 

“I never said that.” Clearing your throat dramatically, you pulled out your phone and began to read in a mockery of his accent. 

“What the fuck? Warn a man before you send shite like that. Is that really you—”

“Haud yer wheesht! Fine, it was fucking hot.” 

“Why was it hot, MacTavish?” He chewed the inside of his cheek and glanced at the floor as he rocked back on his heels. 

“It was… sexy, without showing too much. Teasing and… fucking shite- fine! It made me want tae come over there and rip yer bloody kit off.” The corners of your lip twitched upwards, and you couldn’t fight the smirk that spread across your face. 

“You wanna see another?” 

The way his face lit up was almost comedic, before he frowned again. 

“Yer fucking having me on, aren’t ye?” He scowled. 

Pushing yourself off the wall, you slid your hands into your pockets, tilting your head as you stared at him coaxingly. He met your gaze, eyes squinting as he seemingly tried to read your expression before he sighed, head dipping for a moment before lifting back up again. 

“I’d like fer ye tae send me another.” He asked begrudgingly, fingers toying with his phone. “Please.”

Biting your lip to prevent him from seeing your sly grin, you picked out another. This one was taken from over your shoulder, the curve of your ass framed by a pretty black thong. His phone buzzed and his attention immediately snapped to it before he groaned. 

“Steamin’ hell, yer… shite, I cannae do this here.” He growls, eyes flashing dark with lust as they looked up at you. Blinking at him innocently only made his lip curl. “What’re ye playing at, darlin’?” 

“Just showing you how to really rile someone up.” 

“I’ll show ye riled up in a mo—”

“Would you like me to teach you, John?” You queried, seeing the interest immediately perk in his eyes. He paused in mid stride towards you, lips pursing. 

“Ye wanna teach me how tae take photos like that? I appreciate the effort, hen, but I’m not as bonnie as ye are. Ain’t got the tits fer that.”

“You got tits aplenty, MacTavish. Look at them.” Reaching out, you squeeze his pecs with a teasing grin, and he bats your hand away playfully. “You’re hot, Johnny. Lemme just help you… accentuate it.”

“Yer boostin mah ego there, lass.” He titters, eyes sharp as they trail down your body. “Ye sure yer willing?” 

“You sure you’re happy to miss out on your booty call for an impromptu photo shoot with your teammate?” You snark back, stepped forward to meet him halfway, boots tapping against his. Soap chuckled, finger tracing along your jaw as he leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. 

“After ye sent me these?” He scoffs, waving his phone in front of your face. “I’ve got all the time in the world fer ye.” The look on his face was smug as he leaned back. Your face matched his as you gripped the front of his shirt. 

“Come with me then.”

As you shut your door behind you, you turned around to see Soap already tugging off his uniform. 

“Why are you taking your clothes off already?” You growled at him; eyes sharp as you shook your head. Soap’s brows furrowed, halfway between shrugging his shirt off. 

“Are we not takin’ nudes?” He asked bluntly, head tilting to the side. Letting out a breathy laugh, you locked your door and walked over to him, ruffling his mohawk causing him to squawk in protest. 

“Nudes aren’t just about being naked, idiot.” 

“Aye, they are. Is that not the whole point?” Rolling your eyes, you push him into a chair and wheel him in front of a mirror and standing behind him. 

“When you take photos of yourself at the gym— don’t lie, I know you do.” You frowned down at him as he opened his mouth, about to process. “When you take photos of yourself at the gym, what do you look for?” 

His face pinched in thought. “Making myself look good, I guess.” He shrugged. “Gettin’ my good angles.” 

“Taking nudes is much the same. You’re a fit guy. Work your body into the shots too.” 

“Aye, but I’m still fully clothed.” He points out, raising his brow as he looks at you in the mirror. Clicking your tongue, you leaned down, hands sliding down his firm chest as you plucked open his buttons, one by one. 

“It’s the uniform, MacTavish. Use it.” You purred into his ear, pressing a kiss to the shell of it. He groaned softly; eyes fluttering closed as his breathing deepened. “See?” You pushed open his shirt revealing his toned chest. His eyes were fixed on you in the mirror, watching your every move with focused intent. 

“Now lean back slightly, spread your legs, roll your sleeves up, and tuck your thumb into your belt.” He did as you said, and you helped adjust the final touches, ruffling his hair once more before stepping out of sight. “Now take a few. You can change positions a little. Feel yourself, you know? Take what looks good.” 

You let him sit there for a few minutes, watching him closely as you leaned against the wall out of shot, feeling your body react to him. He was a natural taking pictures, adjusting his positioning slightly as he got into the feel of it. Finally, when he was satisfied, he turned his head to look at you, seeking your approval. Smiling, you stepped towards him, cupping his head as he blinked up at you expectantly. Resting your chin on his shoulder, he flicked through the photos for you. 

“Look at you. Don’t you look hot?” 

“Ye really think so?” His voice was soft as he turned his head slightly towards you. His long lashes cast slightly shadows over his cheeks, and you found yourself drawn into him. Blinking and breaking the trance, you didn’t answer, instead choosing to chuckle and raise your brow, standing back up. 

“Shirt off, next. Belt too but leave your pants on.” Soap nodded under your instruction, face flushing pink as he quickly rid himself of the items you’d specified, leaving him in his combat boots and pants. “Same kinda thing. Move around, pose. Flex a little. Especially your forearms and hands.” 

Again, you stepped back, this time admiring him more closely as he got more comfortable, turning around and playing with different angles. Your eyes drifted along the lines of back, tracing down his body as you felt the tension building in the room. 

Stepping forward, you came in behind him, hands sliding down his sides until you got to the buttons of his pants, undoing them with practiced ease. His cock pulsed with interest, and you could feel him thickening as you slid your hand down his front, rewarded with a soft groan. 

“Fuckin’ hell, hen. Ye’ve nae idea what ye do tae me.” 

“I have somewhat of a feeling.” You grinned over his shoulder, tucking his boxer briefs down so the base of his cock was evident in the mirror. “Take a picture of that.” You whispered, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades before stepping back once more. 

Soap cursed, head turning to look at you with longing as you stepped back, but you pointed to the mirror, and he diligently turned. His hand slid down the toned planes of his body, thumb hooking in the waistband of his underwear and tugging them down to expose the thick base of his cock, hair trimmed, but on the longer side. 

Instead of looking at the camera, or at himself in the mirror, his eyes were on you, heady and lustful. The corners of your lips twitched upwards, and you began to slowly remove your own clothing until you were in nothing but your bra and underwear. Swearing under his breath, Soap roamed every inch of your exposed body, palm pressing into his groin as his hips jutted forwards. 

“Ye gonna fuckin’ ruin me, doll.” 

“Take off your pants and get on the bed, MacTavish.” 

“Aye, ma’am.” He said, eagerly moving to kick off his boots and pants before rolling onto the bed. Eagerly following behind him, you shuffled up the bed on your knees, straddling his thighs as your hands slid up to cup his semi-hard erection. 

“See how we’re not even naked and you’re already swelling in your boxers?” He groaned, head tipping back against the headboard as your hand pressed against him, working him up to full hardness. 

“It’s all you, hen. Fuck yer makin’ me ache.” He whined, eyebrows tilting upwards as he pleaded for more. Shaking your head, you took your hands off him to unclasp your bra and throw it aside. 

“One more. Want you to hold your cock and press it up against the fabric, so we can see the outline of the head.” 

He swore again but did as you asked. Gripping his cock tightly, he slapped it a few times against his leg as he stared at your breasts, swallowing thickly before turning his attention to the camera and taking a few shots. But it didn’t last long. 

Releasing his cock and throwing his phone aside, Soap wrapped his arms around you, flipping you over on the bed. As you lay sprawled, slightly surprised by the sudden change in position, Soap loomed above you, smirk evident on his face. 

“Yer in fer it now, dollie. Been teasin’ me this whole time. Getting tae touch me like that, tell me how to hold my own damn cock. Nah… I’m gonna touch you now.” He purred, eyes predatory as his hands squeezed your tits, thumbs flicking over your nipples, making you moan softly, arching your back. 

Soap titters, sliding further down your body to push your legs apart and settle himself between them. Humming to himself, he ran a finger down your covered centre, circling your clit lightly before prodding at your soaked entrance. 

“All this just from seein’ me take a few pics?” His eyes were gleaming in excitement as he hooked a finger underneath the material of your thong and pulled it aside. “Jesus, hen… ye look like a god damn dream.” 

Perching yourself up onto your elbows, you looked down at him between your legs, watching his expression as he tugged your underwear to the side and lowered his mouth to blow air over the wet, sensitive skin. 

“What’s this? Cannae stand a wee bit of teasing, bonnie lass?” You whined at his cocky tone, lifting your hips up slightly and he cooed, sliding your underwear down your legs and tossing it onto his pants. “I’m keeping that, just so you know.” 

Before you even had the chance to protest, his hands ran up the backs of your legs, spreading them out and holding them down as he sucked kissed along your inner thighs, nipping slightly as he went. 

“John…” Rolling your hips, you gripped the sheets in frustration. “Stop being an ass and put your mouth on me.” 

“God, yer pure gaggin’ fer it, ain’t ye?” His grin was feral as he dragged the lip of his tongue ever so lightly against the hood of your clit. “Admit this was what ye wanted as soon as ye got that snap of my cock.” 

In the dizzy haze of arousal, his words sparked something, and you stared down at him, eyes narrowed. 

“Was this your plan all along? Was there ever another girl you were meant to send that photo to?” He shrugged, lapping at your cunt and making your toes curl with pleasure as he chuckled against you, the vibrations sending shivers through your body. 

“That’s my secret tae ken, dollie. ‘Sides, ye really gonna complain when it’s yer bed I’m in and yer legs I’m between?” His smug expression made you want to bite back some sarcastic reply, but you just couldn’t find the words. “Didnae think so.” 

His mouth lowered onto your throbbing cunt, one hand moving to spread you open so his tongue could press in, tasting you. He groaned deeply, fingers digging into your leg as the thumb on his other hand flicked over your clit. His hips ground into the bed as he did so, making him moan again. 

Pulling back, you could see the sticky wetness of your arousal already covering his bottom lip and chin. As if he could tell where you were looking, he stuck out his tongue and dragged it along his lower lip, grinning as he watched you. 

“Cannae believe ye been holdin’ out on me. Could sit here between these legs and eat this cunt out for hours. Tastes so fucking good.” He dove back in, wrapping his lips and sucking on your clit as his fingers pressed into you. 

You gasped at the stretch, back arching off the bed as his fingers began to move, scissoring and spreading your cunt wider for him. He continued to suck your clit, tongue dragging over it as you cried out, gripping the sheets tightly as your pussy clenched around his fingers. 

“Fuck— Johnny please. God, you’re so fucking good.” You moaned breathlessly, panting as sweat beaded on your forehead. Soap let out a rumbling laugh as he kept his face pressed into your cunt, desperately trying to bring you over the edge. 

Lifting your head to look at him, you saw his hips driving desperately into the bed where the sheets had bundled up underneath his crotch. You managed to find your voice. 

“I taste that good huh? You gonna come just from eating me out?” He nodded eagerly, fingers curling and pumping into you with renewed intensity, heat curling viciously in your gut. 

“So fucking good. So fucking good fer me.” He mumbled; eyes boring into yours. “Please… I’m so fucking close. Need you tae come fer me, aye?” 

You nodded, panting, watching him as he focused his attention solely on you, humming softly as you felt your cunt throb with intense need, the feeling in your belly growing. 

“Johnny— oh fuck, please. Please!” Your legs twitched as your hips hitched upward and, with a cry of his name, you let yourself go, pussy spasming around his fingers as he groaned into your cunt, happily lapping at your juices as you climaxed. 

As you calmed down, body sagging into the bed, you looked down at Soap who was resting his head against your thigh, eyes glazed as he grinned up at you smugly. 

“Enjoy yerself there?” 

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it too.” You bit back, wiping your brow as you grinned lazily down at him. “I can see the mess in your underwear.” 

Soap simply shrugged, rolling onto his back to remove his underwear, wiping the remnants of his cum from his dick before sliding himself up the bed to settle next to you. 

“I said ye tasted fucking divine.” 

“Shut up, Johnny.” You pushed him slightly and he laughed, wrapping his arm around you. 

“We should keep this going.” He murmurs softly, glancing up at you. Blinking in surprise, you look over at him. 

“Thought you didn’t do relationships, MacTavish.” You warned, mostly for your own sake. He simply shrugged. 

“Wouldnae mind having ye ‘round to take some more photos with.” He said simply, nestling into the crook of your neck. “And I wouldnae mind eating that cunt every mornin’.” 

You rolled your eyes, but threaded your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly as he cuddled in close. 

“So those pictures we took are going to waste then, since you’re keeping me around?” You tease, poking his nose. He sniffs. 

“Gonna send them tae you instead. Make ye think about naught but my steamin’ hot body every meeting.” 

You smacked him over the head as you laughed, shaking your head at him. 

“Price’ll kill you if he finds out.” 

“Worth it.” He mumbles once more, squeezing you closer as he pressed a kiss to the base of your neck. 

#crash writes #soapitup #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish smut #john mactavish smut #soap smut #call of duty smut #cod smut #john soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap mactavish #soap call of duty #soap cod

[peachesofteal]

Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader 🎄 @glitterypirateduck’s December challenge: O Christmas Tree

"What about this one?"

You're standing next to a giant tree, one that's probably double your height. "It's a little big but-"

"I don't know if that will fit in your flat, sweetheart." You huff, hands on your hips, and Emmaline wiggles where she's snuggled against him, tucked up on his chest inside his arms. You've got her in some sort of snow suit, like a baby marshmallow, capped with a red knit hat that ties under chin to keep the ear flaps down, and even though she clearly hates it, and looks a little ridiculous, he knows the whole thing is keeping her warm in tonight's frigid weather.

"Okay. What about this one?" The one you're pointing to now is smaller, but sparse, a little prickly looking. He shakes his head. "You don't like any of them!" You protest, and Emma grunts, babbling some sort of nonsense.

"'m just doing what the boss here is telling me to do." She looks up at him, eyes bright with a little bit of snot beneath her nose, and he wipes it away with his thumb. "There you go, baby girl. I gotcha."

"She's not the boss." You step close with a shiver, close enough that he can see the fog of your breath, peek of your neck beneath your scarf, and he reaches out to pad his fingertips across your chilled cheek.

"Cold?" You shrug.

"A little." You dip forward to give Emma a quick kiss on the cheek, and at the same time, he ducks down, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. He's never going to get used to this. Never. Even now, in this moment, he can't believe he's walking a tree lot with you, debating which one to choose. Him. Simon Ghost Riley, picking out a Yule tree with you and the baby. His family.

There's a bang in the street. A car backfiring, probably, but it's enough that it startles someone else on the lot, and they shout, the combination like a shot of adrenaline to his heart, focus and intensity taking over, his movements shifting to autopilot. His hand covers Emma's head, curling forward at the same as he tugs you into his body with a firm arm around your back, essentially immobilizing you, keeping you close in case- "Simon." You say his name softly, gently, fingers holding onto his forearm. The touch grounds him, reminds him to breathe, and he relaxes slightly. "It's alright. We're okay, we're at the Christmas tree place. You're okay. You're with us." With you. With you and Emmaline. At home. He closes his eyes, repeating it in his mind, twice, three times, for good measure, before he trusts enough to uncover the baby's head and let go of you completely. You smile when he does, bright, beautiful, sweet, still working you touch against his arm, not stepping away.

"I'm sorry." He tries to explain, but you shake it off.

"Don't be. It's okay." You loop your arm through his, sticking close to his side. "Want to keep looking?" You ask, nonchalant, and he's overcome with emotion so strong it could bring him to his knees.

"Yeah, but I... I want..." he stumbles over it, words failing, and you wait, patiently, turning into him so you can look up at his face.

"What is it?" Holiday lights glow behind you, twinkling colors mixed with frosted whites, strung together across trees and posts and big red and green signs, 'O Christmas Tree' playing over the speakers that line the perimeter. He's never been one for holidays, never really cared about any of it, all the excitement lost on him, most of the celebrated days spent alone. But now... with you, with the baby, he feels the magic. He thinks he can even see it, in you, in Emmaline, and he's filled to the brim with the wonder, the anticipation for it all, to experience it all for the first time like this, with his angels.

"I want to kiss you." He says the same words he gave you a week ago, outside on the balcony, and you give you him the same smile, warm and welcoming, lips curling upwards with happiness.

"Please." You beam, and he obliges, your lips parting for his, getting lost in the taste of your mouth, decadent honey dripping across his tongue. You make him dizzy, make him stupid, make him so weak for you, and all he wants is more. He wants it all, wants everything you'd give him, and he has to hold himself back, cognizant of Emma in his arms, pulling away regretfully after five seconds that could last five hours, or days. Years. You clear your throat. "Well, okay, uh- should we?" You motion to another row of trees, and he nods with a laugh.

"We should."

Later, after the tree has been decorated, dinner has been made and cleaned up, fire started in the fireplace, Emmaline has had her bath, and you've changed into your pajamas, he sits on your couch with you curled into his side, both you and the baby asleep. It's late, and the lights are out, and he thinks he probably should have woken you to get you both up into bed, but he can't bring himself to shatter the moment, the silence, the fire, and the sounds of your breathing, face barely illuminated by the glow of the lights. He stays right there, listening to the crackle of the logs, staring at the tree, watching the two of you breathe, heart so full he thinks it could explode. This is it, he thinks. This is the magic.

#light on #peaches writes #codholiday2023 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soft dad simon riley

[shotmrmiller]

You'd look better as mine.

Pairing: Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Reader

wc: 1.5k

tw: virginity loss, description of pain, unprotected p in v, explicit smut, the works. cbf!johnny!!

for the soap it up challenge, @glitterypirateduck

"I wouldn't know." Johnny, who was lying at the foot of your bed, whipped his head towards you so fast, you heard his neck pop.

"What?"

Turning your attention back to the television, you reiterated. "I said I would not know, Johnny."

There was a pause, and then he quietly asked, "Would ye like tae ken?"

You gave him a teasing laugh. "Why? You gonna have that big buddy of yours with the skull mask teach me what it's like to—" But before you could finish your sentence, you let out a high-pitched squeal.

"Did you just bite my leg?" You glared at Johnny, but his expression was solemn. "No." He slowly crawled over to you and placed one jean-clad thigh in between yours. "I'm offerin' tae teach ye what it's like tae have sex, lass. Dinnae be obtuse."

"Oh?" you timidly questioned. "You doing it as a favor for your old friend?"

Johnny's eyes softened, and he lowered his head to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "I'd be doing it because I want ye tae be mine."

You slowly move your hands to cradle his face and whisper against his lips. "And what about you, Johnny?" and the tender smile he gave you was the answer you were looking for.

"I'm already yers."

Releasing a shaky breath, you softly say, "Okay." You gaze into his eyes— the light from the television makes his limpid blue eyes shimmer. "Make me yours, Johnny."

The moment you finish saying the words, he's kissing you, tongue curling into your mouth. He tastes of mint, and something so utterly him, you can't help but let out a moan.

Johnny quickly pulls away and turns his head towards your open bedroom door. Unmoving, he stares at it for a few, and when he feels satisfied that no one's coming, he looks back at you with a cheeky grin.

"Ye have tae be a wee quieter, bonnie. Dinnae want anyone interruptin' us."

You nod your head impatiently and bring him back down for another toe-curling kiss. This time, he shifts, aligning his hips between your spread thighs, and grinds his clothed erection directly into the focal point of your desire— the sensation of it sending an electric current through your entire body.

Breaking away from the kiss, Johnny's lips find their way to your neck, where he playfully nips at your skin. "I'll take care of ye, I promise, hen."

He brought you to your peak with just his mouth three times. Three spine-arching, jaw-clenching times. You hadn't even come the first time, and you'd been getting so loud that he had to remove his belt and make you bite down on it.

Johnny moves from between your legs, rests his weight on his hands, places them by your head, and gestures for you to open your mouth. With a comical pop, your teeth detach from his belt, leaving him to inspect the bite marks with his thumb.

"Now when I deploy, I'll always hae ye with me."

Your body is twitching from the aftershocks of your orgasm, heart pounding in your chest and you can't manage to think coherently, much less speak so, and he's cracking jokes. Incredible.

Johnny throws his belt somewhere over his shoulder and starts to pull his jeans down, just enough to take his cock out comfortably, and still be able to re-dress himself quickly if you both are interrupted.

He widens your thighs, and your skin prickles in anticipation of what's to come. You muster the courage to look at what you're going to be taking inside of you and are immediately taken aback.

"You're- that-," You pause to clear your throat. "I hate to be cliché, but you're actually going to split me in half. You're massive."

Johnny gives you a shit-eating grin, and smugly says, "Why, thank ye, bonnie, I didnae-" You cut him off with a swipe of your hand.

"I'm intimidated by your size, Johnny." That promptly sobers him up, and he lowers himself to nudge your nose in apology.

"I'll be as gentle as I can be, aye?" You can feel heat spreading through your body as his warm length, hard as steel, touches your inner thigh. His adam's apple bobs as he swallows, before pumping himself once, pre-cum glistening on his flared head. Johnny pumps himself again and with a trembling exhale, he lines himself up with your slit. He's prepped you beautifully, you're thoroughly soaked from his ministration, and he's agonizingly slow as he sinks into your pussy.

He lets out a sibilant hiss through his teeth, jaw rippling from how hard he's clenching it, and then there's resistance, and it hurts.

"I need ye to relax for me, hen," but you don't hear him, the ringing in your ears is too loud, and your head is focused solely on the prickling sting in between your legs. Tears blur your vision, and maybe one or two spilled because Johnny's immediately cooing at you as he caresses your face.

"I ken it hurts, I ken. Just a little more, and it'll all be over." He lowers his hand to circle your clit under the pad of his thumb and pushes past the resistance with a grunt, and goes in deep, and deeper until his balls are flush against your arse, and you feel him in your throat.

Your torn walls burn a little, you're stretched to the limit, stuffed to the brim. You can vaguely hear Johnny moaning out a 'fuuuuck', but all you can feel is his intrusion. His thumb hasn't stopped its movement on your bud, and as your channel squeezes around Johnny like a vice, you begin to feel pleasure again.

Johnny has the patience of a saint because even though his breath comes out in unsteady pants, his hips stay pressed against yours, completely still.

"Thaaaat's it," he whispers, "Yer mine, now. All mine."

His hand makes quick work of you, reigniting the fire in your belly, and as the coil starts to tighten, your body does too.

"My bonnie lass, did so good for me. Ye feel like heaven, so snug around me. Like a silken fist gripping my cock," and then he tugs on your hair a bit. "Look at me. Look at me as ye come around me."

A wave of intense lust flows through your veins as you lock eyes with him, and your breathing quickens, body begins to tremble as you reach your peak. The filthy words he's showering you with, along with his fingers rubbing small, tight circles on your clit has you so close— and then he begins to thrust.

You choke back a wail as you come, your heart soaring as you finally let go. Your head is filled with white noise, your vision is spotted with black dots from the intensity of your climax. Johnny slurs out a string of curses as he continues to rock his hips, the drag of his thick cock drawing out your bliss.

He stops when he feels your body go limp under him, your limbs like syrup.

"How was that, hen?" and you croak out, "Y-yeah."

Johnny chuckles at your response, and asks, "That good, aye? Oh, but ye've seen nothin' yet."

Lifting your legs, he hooks them over his sinewy shoulders, and states, "Brace." he orders. Your hands immediately scramble for purchase around his biceps and then begins to fuck you.

Your breath is punched out of you with each thrust, and you can do nothing other than take what he's giving you, and he gives it to you so good. Your pain is a part of the past, just like your virginity, and you feel nothing but mind-numbing ecstasy.

He's going so deep at this angle, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix, and then his thrusts start turning sloppy, and heavier. He feels bigger inside of you, harder, and then he stills— grinding down into you with a drawn-out moan. You can feel him twitching as he spills inside of you, coating the entrance of your womb with his thick, viscous essence.

Johnny drops his weight onto you, uncaring that you're now wheezing, and when his sweaty forehead touches your cheek as he nuzzles your neck, feelings that you've long suppressed bubble to the surface.

"I love you."

He shoots his head up so fast it clips the side of your jaw causing you to let out a pained groan. Just as you're about to scold him, he interjects, demanding, "Say it again."

With a playful grin, you gently rub your face, completely unfazed by the intensity of his stare.

"I love you, you big goof," and start to feebly push him off of you. "Big, heavy goof, now get off! My lungs are about to collapse."

bonus: your mom won't stop staring at the back of your head because you refuse to look her in the eye as you wince to sit down while Johnny's beaming a smile that could outshine the sun at your dad as he gives Johnny the 'you treat my daughter right' talk.

bonus 2.0: Johnny takes your bloodied bedsheet with him. It's his now, he'll buy you another. No, he doesn't care that it's your favorite and you could've just washed it.

#SoapItUp #call of duty #cod mw2 #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #cod mwii #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish smut #cod smut #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mctavish smut #john soap mctavish x reader

[lovifie]

No One Needs to Know... Right?

This is my humble little addition to @glitterypirateduck O, Captain! Challenge ❤️

Prompt 17, 69 and 83

Warning: alcohol intake, smut, a bit rough Price, oral sex, dacryphilia if you squint (like, just a line) and I love to make him desperate for pussy. Enjoy ❤️

“I have told you once, and I'll tell you twice, Kate.” Price says, pinching his nose bridge as exasperation fills him. “I am not, working with Adamson.”

“And I have already told you twice, John.” Laswell answered, just as annoyed. “That there is no other choice, this is coming from upstairs and there is no room for negotiation. I'm sorry”.

It wasn't the first time that Price had needed to work along with another unit, but Colonel Adamson was surely the worst.

The old man constantly had his head inside his own ass, too busy complimenting himself to care about the success of the mission or about everyone getting back home safely. 

He was not a man you would like to have to trust your life on and know John didn't have another option. So all be could do, was get mentally prepared for what was to come. 

And to do so, he relied on his old run-down trusty pub just out of base. He sat down on the stool he always did, ordered his scotch on the rocks as always and remained silent, letting the voices in his head quiet down.

Just silence.

Alone.

Like always.

“I'll have the same he's having” A female voice next to him brought him back.

He looks to his side, staring at the woman sitting down next to him. The pub is not necessarily fancy, but still, the jeans, t-shirt and sweatshirt you are wearing give it away you got here soon after work and not necessarily for pleasure. 

“It's this seat taken?” You ask the man, worried now that he won't stop staring at you. 

“No, no, please sit down.” He answers quickly, the smile on his face contagious. “Hard day at work?”

“What gave it away?” You ask puffing a laugh, you look down at his glass. “Yours wasn't that great either or that the celebration?”

He chuckles, wide shoulder shaking slightly as he does. “Definitely not celebration.” He raises the glass to his lips, your eyes following the glass and staring for maybe a second too long on his lips. 

It is easy to fall into a comfortable conversation with the man, a mix of dad jokes and a level of understanding that someone with the same job would have. Still, neither of you talks about your jobs, both because it is the reason you are in a pub getting drunk and also because it is not an easy job to talk about.

You don't notice how close you have gotten to each other until you are resting your head on your hand with your elbow resting on the bar and you try to rest the other arm on the backrest of the stool only to find Price is already resting his in there. 

You look at his face as you lay your arm on top of his, looking for any sign of discomfort, only to find that easy smile on his face again. You open your palm, letting it rest over his massive biceps; the wild thought of it around your neck as he fucks you from behind running through your mind for a second.

“I think I have drunk too much.” You admit chuckling, rubbing your face with your other hand. 

Now, Price is not a stupid man; and the way you bit your lip unconsciously when you touched him, your eyes getting darker just for a second let him know perfectly fine what your feelings were.

“Want me to walk you home, sweetheart?” He asks, looking at your face to see your reaction; and when he sees you look at his eyes only to drop your eyes to his lips he smiles widely. 

“Well, aren't you a gentleman…” You mumble standing up, taking your card out of your pocket to pay. 

“Please, my treat.” He says, taking his out as well. 

You quickly shake your head. “Nope, I'm paying tonight, sir. You can pay next time, how about that?” You ask, winking at him as you do. 

He chuckles, putting his card away amused with your antics and waiting for the bartender to charge you. Once done, he walks next to you, his hand on the small of your back. “How far away is your house?”

“My Airbnb actually, just down the road.” You answer, pointing with your finger where it is. 

Sadly, it doesn't take long to reach it, and even though you opened the door the two of you linger in the doorway. 

“You know… the weather broadcast said that it was going to rain tonight…” You say, knowing damn well the British man couldn't care less about the rain. 

“Oh no… I guess I better get inside, right?” He smiles, taking a step forward towards you. 

You quickly nod your head. “Yeah, we don't want you getting wet.” You pull his shirt, making him lean down and crush your lips with his. 

His arms find their way around your waist, hugging you close and pulling you up the floor. You barely manage to close the door once the two of you enter the flat; a mess of tongue, spit and drunk words spilling out of your mouths. 

Your legs find their way around his waist, him holding you up gentleman-like with both hands on your ass. He pulls you closer, letting you feel his growing erection against your clothed cunt; earning himself a moan falling for your lips. “Fuck…”

“John, sweet girl. That's my name, moan it loud so I know how good I'm making you feel, alright?” He asks, groaning when you grind yourself against him. 

“John…” You moan softly, pulling your head back and that's all he needs to attack your neck. Pulling his tongue flat against your collarbone and up to your ear like a desperate dog. 

He sits you on top of the sofa backrest, moving his hands to pull your sweatshirt and t-shirt off. Groaning when he sees the sports bra, almost offended that there is another layer to peel.

You chuckle at his desperation, only for him to suddenly move his hips forward against your cunt making you moan. “That's better.” He murmurs against your mouth once he manages to take off your bra. 

He leans down, catching your nipple with his teeth before sucking it inside his mouth, groaning as he does. His arms circle your middle, pulling you tightly as he keeps grinding your core; too desperate to remain immobile. 

He moves lower, his tongue running from the middle of your chest down your boob up to your side, bitting down over your ribs making your moan mix with a hiss. 

Your hands find his hair at the back of his head, pulling hard enough to force him to peel his face back. Looking back at you, eyes dark with desire, lips red, swollen and wet for the kiss and licking at you and stupidly smug smile on his face. Makes you want to wipe it from his face.

“Up, to the bedroom, now.” You order, pulling him closer with your legs around his hips.

“Yes, ma’am” He chuckles, picking you up again; groaning when you lower your face to attack his neck. Licking up his neck, feeling his heartbeat under his skin just as fast as yours. 

He enters the doorway to your room, hitting your knee against it as he does making you curse. “Fuck, John. That's how your aim is going to be tonight?” You ask teasingly, your knee hurting just enough to complain.

“Oh, shut up. My aim is impeccable, sweetheart” He answers scoffing, as he sits on the bed with you on his lap. 

“Aw, did I hit a weak spot?” You ask, cocking your head with a fake pout in your mouth.

“Darling, I don't have weak spo-” He cuts himself up with a struggling moan when you lower your hand to grab his erection through the clothes.

You chuckle against his mouth, kissing his half-open mouth. “I want to taste you, John” You whisper keeping your eyes focused on his expression. 

He smiles, happy with your urge to satisfy him, and kisses you back. “Yeah? You want me to fuck your throat, sweet girl? Why don't you do it with your pretty pussy resting on my face, hm?”

You whine back, brain slowly turning to mush; barely managing to stop kissing him for long enough to stand up and take off the rest of your clothes. He does the same, lying down using your pillow to prop his head up and staying with an arm extended inviting you in. And fuck if the sight is nothing but inviting, you knew his dick was big just from sitting on top but you were not ready to see the big, uncut, thick piece of meat sitting between his legs; too heavy to stand up on his own and instead slowly dripping precum onto his thick thigh. Watering your mouth at the thought of how his happy trail will rub against your clit later on the night. 

You crawl back onto the bed, completely forgetting about the sitting on his face part and focusing on getting him into your mouth. Until a hard slap lands on your ass making you cry and turn your head to look at him offended. 

“That's not where your pussy is supposed to be at, innit?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. And when you take too long to move for his liking, he takes matters into his own hands grabbing your hips to hoist you on top of him with ease which only adds to your current horniness.

“Ffffuck, that's a sight I would fucking kill to wake up to every day” He groans behind you, deep voice making you clench with desperation which makes him chuckle. “Hmm, she likes it when I talk about her.”

And it feels like you are intruding on whatever is going on between him and your pussy with the way he is talking about it like it is her whole person. So not wanting to interrupt, you bend down fisting his dick in your hand as you wet kiss his tip. 

“Aww, did you get jealous that I was giving her some attention, darling?” He says, apparently completely unaffected by your attention to his cock which only makes you crankier.

You get his tip on your mouth, completely ignoring him when suddenly he moves his hand down to the back of your head grabbing your hair in a fist and keeping your head in place only for him to begin to thrust his cock into your mouth and down your throat. 

You automatically start choking on it, gagging and wet sounds filling the rooms. You manage to relax just throat just a bit, which he takes as an invitation to shove his cock inside until your nose is plush against his balls. 

Tears prick your eyes at the abuse of your throat and the lack of air, hearing him groan at every convulsion of your throat around him and he only pulls back when you dig your fingernails on his thighs. 

The hand on your head pulls your head back making you arch your back as you gasp for air, thick threats of saliva still connecting your lips with his glistening dick as you cough.

“I asked you a question, I don't like it when I get ignored, love. Alright?” He asks a certain gentle tone to his voice that totally throws you out of place. You nod quickly, a croaky “yes” the only thing you are able to answer.

“Good girl.” He says, letting go of your hair to pet your head slightly pushing it to rest on his hip close to the pool of spit at the base of his cock. “Just lay there, darling. Let me enjoy my treat.” 

You have barely managed to get your breath back when he takes it away again by running his tongue from your clit all the way up to your ass, groaning as he does so. 

“So fucking delicious, so fucking good.” He groans, moving his arms under your tights to pull you impossibly closer to his mouth, making you moan loudly when he sucks your clit inside his mouth rubbing his tongue against it. 

He looks pussy drunk already, a chaos to the way he is eating you up; going up and down, side to side, fucking your holes with his tongue, grabbing your ass with his massive hands pulling them apart to get the whole view, eating you out like a starved man. 

It's hard to get air into your lungs with the way you are moaning again and again, grabbing onto his hips to ground you feeling him pull you again and again against his face; it should be you fucking his face instead it feels the complete opposite. 

“Fuck, John, I'm gonna…” You moan, toes curling as you feel your orgasm approach. “I'm gonna come, John. Don't stop, please, don't stop.”

He chuckles, delighted with your begging before shoving two of his thick fingers inside your cunt making you hiss at the sudden stretch and throwing you off, orgasm getting further away and making you whine pathetically at its loss. 

“Quiet down, I'm getting you there but I need your tight little pussy nicely wet and stretched before I get my cock in you.” He groans after spanking you again before he starts to move his finger in and out, adding a third one not too much later making you cry in pleasure. “You can take another one, right, love? You won't get my cock if you don't.”

“I can!” You moan embarrassedly fast. “I can, please, put it in, please.” You move your hips back against his hand, moaning loudly when he gets the last finger inside only keeping his thumb out to rub your clit making you moan loudly against the skin of his lower stomach 

“Attagirl, c’mon, sweet girl. Come around my fingers so I can fuck your pretty pussy all nice and sweet.” He cheers you on, moving his hand faster. You bite down on his abs, the layer of fat that covers them catching between your lips making him hiss as you come, clutching down so hard his fingers get spitted out of your cunt. 

He groans, licking your juices again making you jolt at the feeling, shoving his whole face against your cunt getting drenched in your juices. Only pulling back when he runs out of breath, letting you fall down on his side, your leg still resting on top of his chest.

“Pretty thing winking at me and everything.” He coos, running his thumb along your hole making you shiver and slightly slapping his leg. 

“Let me breathe, for fuck sake.” You barely managed to say, still struggling to breathe. He chuckles, moving your leg off his chest and grabbing you by your waist to sit you on top of his abdomen not caring about getting his torso wet. 

He rests his hands on your hips, with you resting yours on his chest and he looks at you with a smile on his face but still trying to catch your gaze. “You alright, darling?” He asks, his thumb rubbing circles on your hips.

“Yeah.” You answer nodding, noticing a certain tense feeling leaving his body. “I just need a second, that was… that was something.”

He laughs, his eyes disappearing into thin lines as he does. “I hope something good… do you wanna stay on top? Set the pace?” 

You nod quickly, agreeing it is possible the best for the both of you and you look behind you. “We can wait, love. We have no rush- ah, fuck.” He groans when his tip catches onto your entrance, making the both of you moan as you slowly sink deeper. The stretch of his cock inside of you leaves you with shaky legs as you dig your fingernails on his chest. You bend down, resting your head on his shoulder needing a moment to adjust. He doesn't say anything, kissing your temple softly and rubbing his hand up and down your back.

You grind your hips against his, moving slowly, his dick barely moving but still enough to make the both of you softly moan. You sit back up, resting your hands on his chest as you start to slowly move up and down, his tips deliciously grazing your cervix kissing it with each thrust, so deep you almost feel it on your stomach. 

You move slowly, choosing depth over speed; his hands on your waist helping you up and down as his eyes travel down your body to where you are connected to him.

“That's it, darling. Take what you need.” Price says between moans, not moving his hips. And if he hasn't fucked you stupid already, you would. You would turn the man into a puddle, make a mess out of him, have him babbling nonsense, too pussy drunk to even remember his name. But instead, it is you the one who can barely stand straight, whining about the tiredness of your legs aching for a break and you bend forward resting your hands on the headboard of the bed, wanting to cry.

“I can't… please, move. I can't, please, John, please.” You cry, legs shaking too exhausted to keep moving.

“Shh, sweet girl, don't cry.” He says, propping himself on his elbows to lick at your cheek where a tear spills. “It only turns me on more, love.”

He lays back down, chuckling when you whine again and he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you close, setting his feet on the mattress just to start thrusting up into your core hard and fast.

You cry in pleasure at the sudden change in rhythm, arching your back and making it easier for him to get your nipple in his mouth, moaning and biting around it. 

“Such a good fucking girl, taking my cock like a fucking champ.” He moans, forehead pressed against your chest. “Cum around my cock, darling. I want to feel you choke my dick like you did with my fingers, c’mon, pretty girl, come for me.”

And it is like he has godly powers over you because with the way he keeps thrusting up and at the same time as he talks to you has you coming embarrassing fast. Clutching his dick like a vice making him struggle to keep moving but without giving up, coming inside just after a couple more thrusts. 

You lay down on his chest, both of you breathing hard but without moving. He pets your hair, brushing it back behind your ear, running his finger through undoing some of the knots he finds. “You're alright, darling?”

“Greater than great, John.” You answer smiling, raising a bit to kiss him on the lips, slightly moving your hips making you both groan. “A shower?”

“A shower indeed.” He chuckles, kissing you deeply for what feels like a second before helping you stand up before standing up himself. 

It is a sweet innocent shower, soft kisses on your shoulder and sweet kisses on his shoulder blade; helping the other clean up like a couple who have known each other for years. 

Once outside, you lay on your bed naked looking at him as he dresses up. He bends down to give you one more kiss before muttering: “Never in my life have I hated my job as much as right now for making me leave you like this, and with the kind of job I have it says a lot, sweet girl.”

You chuckle shaking your head, softly slapping his cheek. “You are just being dramatic, John.”

He grumbles back, standing up and you walk after him to the door hiding behind it once he opens it. You peek your head outside, saying goodbye and once you think he is leaving he turns around. 

“You know… I'm gonna be quite busy this week, but next week, same day and time as today I'll probably drop by the bar again… in case we coincide again…” He says, indirectly asking you out making you chuckle at the fact he is shy to ask you out as if he didn't have you choking on his dick just an hour ago.

“I'm sure we will, John.” You say, making him smile fondly. He gives you one more kiss before he disappears down the street.

The next morning, Price is not so happy. He barely makes it into the brief room before the rest of the team walks in. But it's not his boys who make him mad, it's the colonel who walks after them, cane in hand. 

“Colonel Adamson” Prices greets him, greeting his teeth as he does.

“John.” The older man answers, a disgusting smile on his face as if he just told the best joke of his life. “So you are still alive… maybe you are not as bad as I thought.”

“I don't need to prove myself to you, and this is merely a business meeting.” He says, already done with him pointing to the empty chair before him. “Please, sit.”

“Actually, sorry to disappoint you, John. But I retired last year, I'm not the one working with you this time.” He says, walking closer to him, raising the cane to slap on the opposite hand. “It's my daughter, you see? And if I hear that anything happens to her under your watch, you better die on that mission, son. Or I'll take care of it. I don't want a scratch, bruise or tear on my girl's face, understood?”

“She'll be fine.” Price answers, not really threatened by the man, feeling that if his daughter is anything as repulsive and just plain horrible to deal with no one will even think about laying a finger on him. 

“There you are.” A voice draws his attention, a voice uncomfortably familiar. “I told you to wait for me, Dad.”

“Sorry, dear. Just wanted to greet my old friend before leaving you at it.” He says the first genuine smile John has ever seen on the man, and it is only because he is talking to you. 

His daughter.

Of the man that just threatened him about touching you.

Is okay, he just needs to play it cool and no one needs to no. 

Right?

“Oh. Hi, John.” You say enthusiastically. “Why didn't you say you were coming here too? You could have stayed the night.”

Fuck

Back to Masterlist - Taglist Form

Hi, my lovelies 💗💗

How are you guys, enjoying the voting for the next series? hehe

@howlove this one for you baby

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#ocaptainchallenge #john price x reader #john price #captain john price #captain price x reader #price x reader #captain john price x reader #john price smut #captain price smut #call of duty #cod x reader #cod #cod smut #task force 141 #call of duty x reader #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #call of duty smut

[brewed-pangolin]

Fine I'll send another. Captain MacTavish ON THE BEACH. 🥵

I love the beach. I live on it during the summer. It's my second home, I swear. And the way the sea salt air and warm waters can cure the soul is something I just can't ignore with this man. I love this ask so much!!!

18+ MDNI Sexual Themes

You sat alone, comfortably in your beach chair with a cold beer in hand under a magenta colored sky as the sun set beyond the horizon of a turquoise painted surf.

The rhythmic sound of the waves synchronizing with the beat of your heart as the scent of sea salt and sunscreen etched itself into your skin.

The air was still warm, yet it carried a cool breeze off the waters edge as the slow curtain of dusk crept over the white sanded landscape.

It was perfect. A picturesque conclusion to a hot summer's day.

And off in the distance, with a Yeti tumblr of whisky in one hand and a cigar permanently clutched in his mouth, Captain MacTavish cast out his last line into the crashing surf and placed the warn grip seamlessly into its plastic holder dug into the sand.

The beach had done wonders for him since his retirement only a few years ago.

Soothed his war torn psyche with the constant ebb and flow of the tide. Molded his scars beneath a layer of sun kissed skin that further accentuated the seascape blue of his eyes and made every woman swoon with just a mere glance and a smile.

Yet it was here, under the blanket of encroaching night that you saw the man he had truly become.

A man at peace with himself. Letting the setting sun and roll of the tide absolve him of his past and breathe fresh life into his lungs at dawn's first light.

You couldn't pull your eyes off him anymore, and you were no longer ashamed about how your stare lingered on him.

The loss of sunlight elongating the shadows within the curves of his musculature. Accented by the seafoam swim trunks that hung perfectly on his hips. Creating a more defined sculpture of his frame as he effortlessly strutted along the sand to take his place beside you.

"How long you gonna fish for tonight, John?" You asked quietly, rim of the beer can caressing your bottom lip.

"As long as you'll let me, m'lass."

You smiled, watching him raise his tumbler in cheers to take a healthy swig while gently tapping the ash of his cigar into an empty can.

"Guess we'll be here all night, then."

"Aye. Looks that way."

As he relaxed back in his Tommy Bahama chair, your hand reached out to instinctually cusp the back of his head. Thumb and index finger pressing into the back off his skull, pulling a slight groan from his chest as your touch soothed his sun drenched soul.

"Careful, lass. Y'know what that skillful touch a'yers does to me."

"Mhmm. It's a good thing we brought the boat."

Soap rolled his eyes, glancing between your smirking expression and the vessel anchored just beyond the last sandbar.

"Which one ya love more, hm? The boat, or me?"

You raised a brow at his testing inquiry, firmly pressing into the back curve of his jaw with your fingertips as a hushed murmur fell from your lips.

"Don't ask questions you know the answer to, John. Won't get you anywhere."

Soap growled in response. Placing his hand on your thigh and giving your flesh a firm yet playful grip.

"May have ta shorten th'fishing trip then. Looks like I gotta assert my claim over you again."

"Claim over me, John?"

"Aye. Ain't no way I'm losing you to a gas guzzling bàta."

-

You both lasted no more than another twenty minutes before loading everything into the skiff and jetting back to his prized vessel. Where Soap MacTavish made good to his word and staked his claim over you once again.

Spreading you over every flat surface beneath the bow and docking his thickened cock repeatedly into the deep cove of your cunt.

Master of the Swell Masterlist

This is but a taste of the new WIP I have in store for you, Soap Squad. Johnny's got the 4Runner, the Captain's got a yacht. And goddman, do I have plans to rock that boat.

Tagging those who showed interest. Let me know if you liked to be tagged for further posts. Much love 💛

@deadbranch @ohgeesoap @astraluminaaa @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world @d3athtr4psworld @ghosts-goldendoodle @homicidal-slvt @shotmrmiller @glitterypirateduck @macravishedbymactavish @sofasoap @tacticalanxiety @random-thot-generator @writeforfandoms

#teaser for master of the swell #this asked warmed my sun kissed soul #love the beach so damn much #soap squad™️ #glitterypirateduck #the brainrot of Captain MacTavish #captain soap mactavish #captain mactavish #captain soap x you #captain soap x fem reader #og soap x you #og soap x fem reader #soap smut #call of duty #cod

[sky-is-the-limit]

Meddle About (Part 1)

P: Captain Price x F!Reader

Summary: You meet a handsome stranger at a pub and begin a beautiful friendship. Though you start developing feelings for the older man, he doesn't seem to reciprocate. That is, until you flirt with someone else to test the waters.

NSFW part 2 here.

WC: 2.3k words

CW: Nothing other than some angst (light), age difference and jealousy.

Notes: The age of the Reader is mentioned only because I feel uncomfortable writing about an age difference where X person is under the age of 23-25.

@glitterypirateduck

You stumbled into the pub, your heart heavy and your mind clouded with the weight of your breakup. The air was thick with the aroma of alcohol and the sound of muted conversations. You sought solace in the dimly lit corner, choosing a table far from prying eyes, hoping to drown your sorrows alone.

As you sat there, lost in your own misery, your gaze wandered aimlessly to the booth next to yours until it landed on him, the older man sitting alone, his presence almost ghostly in the shadows. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, drinking a glass of whiskey with a distant look in his eyes.

At first, you paid him no mind, too consumed by your own despair to acknowledge anyone else's existence. But then, just as the ache in your chest threatened to overwhelm you completely, a notification on your phone pushed you over the edge. It was a message from your ex, a cruel reminder to pick up your things from his apartment.

With a choked sob, you buried your face in your hands, tears streaming down your cheeks to the thought. And then, as if sensing your despair, the older man's voice cut through the haze of your misery.

"Are you alright, love?" He asked, his words gentle and filled with genuine concern.

Startled, you lifted your head to look at him, your vision blurred by tears. His face came into focus, and you found yourself momentarily captivated by the sight of blue eyes, the ruggedness of his features softened by a hint of kindness. He extended a napkin towards you, a silent offering to wipe away your tears.

For a moment, you hesitated, unsure of whether to trust this stranger even with such an innocent gesture. But something in his demeanor, the warmth in his gaze, made you lower your defenses.

And so, with a shaky breath, you accepted, allowing the soft material to soak up whatever was left of your relationship.

As the night dragged on, the heaviness in your heart began to ease, replaced by a sense of relief as you found comfort in conversation with the stranger. He didn't speak much, but his attentive listening spoke volumes.

You found yourself pouring out your heart to him, recounting the details of your breakup, the betrayal, the lies, the countless nights spent crying yourself to sleep, wondering what you had done to deserve such treatment.

Were you ruining his night out? Was he growing tired of your rambling? Was he secretly wishing for an escape from your company?

Your overthinking vanished every time you looked into his eyes, finding nothing but genuine interest and compassion staring back at you.

The hours slipped away and the pub grew quieter, you realized that this stranger had become more than just a sympathetic ear. And though you couldn't quite put it into words, you knew that his presence had brought you a sense of peace that you hadn't felt in a long time.

As the night progressed, you learned that he was a military man, a Captain stationed at a base just twenty minutes away. His hesitance to get into the specifics of his job only added to the air of mystery surrounding him but you respected his boundaries, content to learn other parts of his personality. It wasn't like you'd understand much of the military life anyway.

In between sips of beer, you discovered common ground in unexpected places. He spoke passionately about his love for football, declaring his support to Liverpool with pride and that sparked playful banter between the two of you, given your loyalty to Manchester United. And then there was his love for 70s rock music, a good old Sunday roast and his German Shepherd named Bucky.

Everything he uttered seemed to captivate you. But it wasn't just his words that kept you staring in awe. It was the way he carried himself, the undeniable aura of strength and confidence that followed him.

His strong, masculine features were impossible to ignore. The full beard that hugged his face and trailed down to his neck, the small charming beauty mark on his nose, his ocean blue shaded eyes.. There was no force im the world that could tear your gaze away from him.

Despite being seated, he seemed to tower over most in the room, his tall frame accentuated by his broad shoulders and defined physique with thighs barely fitting under the table.

Each time your eyes met, you felt a rush of excitement, a flutter in your chest that you couldn't quite explain.

He definitely noticed, there was no doubt about it. You caught him watching you, a slight smirk playing at the corner of his lips but he never made a point of it. It was as if he welcomed your attention, basking in the way you were taking him in yet never crossing the line between polite conversation and flirting.

Around two after midnight, the pub began to empty out, leaving only you and the interesting stranger as the sole costumers.

Stepping outside, the chill of the rain hit you both, shimmering under the moonlight as it landed on the darkened street below and he wasted no time in offering you his coat.

You protested but he insisted, draping it over your head as you both dashed towards your car. The rain poured down relentlessly, soaking him through and yet he seemed unaffected, almost as if he enjoyed the feeling of the water against his skin or perhaps in a way to make the night last a little bit longer.

As you turned the ignition, a sudden realization struck you. In the midst of the conversation, you had forgotten the most basic of exchanges. Names.

"Hey!" You called out over the drumming rain, "I never asked for your name."

"John Price." Came his simple reply, accompanied by a a small smile.

You reciprocated with your own name, something so simple suddenly feeling intimate, important. After saying your goodnights, you closed the door and began to drive away, the rain beginning to taper off.

But then, a nagging thought tugged at your brain. His coat still laid draped over your shoulders. Without giving it a second thought, you turned the car around and rolled down the window, calling out into the night.

"Hey, John! I still have your coat!"

He turned, his silhouette illuminated by the fading streetlights, and yelled back, "Bring it back here tomorrow, same time."

With a smile tugging at your lips, you nodded in agreement. That night, as you drifted off to sleep, the thoughts of your recent breakup seemed distant and insignificant. Instead, your mind was filled with the memory of the handsome Captain and the promise of tomorrow.

/////

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, your meetings with John at the pub became a tradition. Every Wednesday and Saturday, like clockwork, you would find yourselves drawn back to that familiar corner booth, where the outside world faded away and it was just the two of you, lost in conversation.

Your advances were subtle yet unmistakable, a brush of your hand against his, a playful flirtation laced with innuendo. And though John never shut you down, his demeanor remained restrained, as if he was holding himself back from crossing an invisible boundary.

He never pushed for more, never crossed the line into something deeper, leaving you to wonder if the attraction was one sided.

It was both frustrating and endearing at first, what had started as a playful game of cat and mouse had morphed into something deeper, more profound and the anticipation of seeing him, of sharing those precious hours together, became the highlight of your week.

You found yourself drawn to him in ways you couldn't fully comprehend. It was borderline obsessive how you tended to every detail, choosing the perfect outfit and spending hours grooming yourself to ensure you looked your best for him.

While his eyes traced the curves of your body with hunger, his hands always remained glued at his sides. Always a good conversation, a walk to your car and a goodnight to leave you awake at night, going through every scenario possible.

It was maddening, the way he welcomed your touches and flirtatious banter without ever making a move of his own.

Perhaps, if he was to turn you down outright, to reject your advances and put an end to the torture, it would be easier to accept. You could move on, content in the knowledge that you had tried and failed. But John never did that.

And so, that particular night, you swore, it would be different.

////

Another Saturday night unfolded and you found yourself once again nestled in the comfort of your favorite booth at the pub, opposite of John.

Dressed in figure hugging black dress that accentuated every curve, you couldn't help but feel confident and ready for what you were about to do. The neckline dipped low, offering a glimpse of your cleavage while the bold red lipstick painted your intentions clear for all to see.

Taking a moment to gather your courage, you lifted your glass to your lips, the sweet aroma of your fruity cocktail easing your nerves. After taking a sip, with a playful smile, you turned to John, nudging the glass towards him.

"Wanna try my drink?" You asked, your voice laced with a hint of playfulness.

You knew all too well that John was a man of simple tastes, his preference for whiskey never changing. Your intentions weren't supposed to change that, anyway.

John's gaze lingered on the glass for a few seconds and returned to yours, a small smile playing at his lips.

''I don't think I'm gonna enjoy drinking that one, love.'' He replied with a chuckle as he took another sip of his usual choice.

That was your moment.

With a coy smile, you took another sip from your cocktail, savoring the fruity sweetness that danced on your tongue and then, with a boldness you hadn't known you possessed, you placed your hand on John's thigh, the touch of your fingertips freezing him into place.

"You don't have to drink it to enjoy the taste." You replied, your words dripping with innuendo whilst you took in his unusually tensed reaction.

Without waiting for John's response, you leaned in, the anticipation coursing through your veins like wildfire.

Your heart pounded loudly against your chest as you pressed your lips against his, the taste of whiskey and strawberries mingling together the more you took his bottom lip between your own. There was a hesitance in the way your mouth moved, your tongue grazing his own as you awaited for him to deepen it.

Feeling the warmth of John's palms resting on your shoulders, you couldn't help but anticipate his next move, to reciprocate the kiss and finally make you his.

But to your surprise, instead of drawing you closer, John gently pushed you back, disconnecting your lips with a tender touch that almost felt like betrayal. His eyes remained closed, his expression unreadable as if he was still lingering on the taste of your kiss, contemplating what he was about to do next.

Feeling the weight of John's eyes piercing through you, you couldn't bring yourself to meet them, the sting of embarrassment and disappointment burning hot against your cheeks.

You felt exposed, vulnerable in a way you had never felt before. As his hands left your shoulders and came to rest on the table, you could sense the tension in the air, thick and suffocating.

And then, finally, his voice broke the silence, "Y/N, I can't." He said, his tone filled with a mixture of pity and regret.

"Even if I want-" He started to say, but then abruptly stopped, as if his own thoughts had betrayed him.

You wanted to scream, to cry out in frustration and anger, but all you could do was sit there, confused and curious to the thought of him finishing that sentence.

Summoning every ounce of courage you had, you took in a deep breath and with trembling hands, you finally raised your face to look at him.

All you managed, was a one word question coming out as a barely audible whisper, ''Why?''

His hesitation, his struggle to articulate his thoughts only grated against your nerves but you sat there patient, waiting for him to state a good enough reason that would match with his last sentence.

"You're so young and I-" John began but his words only added to your ticking bomb. His excuse felt like a slap in the face, and before he could finish, you cut him off, your voice dripping with disbelief.

"Young? Is that it?!" You exclaimed, the anger in your voice palpable. "I'm 25 for fuck's sake!"

In that moment, what he said, the implication of his excuse became painfully clear. It wasn't about age. It was about fear, about his own insecurities. But you refused to be dismissed so easily.

"Younger, then." He persisted, correcting himself, his tone tinged with frustration. "You should be out there flirting with guys your own age, not messed up middle-aged men that you meet at a shady pub."

How dare he, you thought, how dare he belittle your choices, your feelings like that?

Your eyes widened in disbelief at what he was saying, the anger bubbling up inside you threatening to boil over. How could he be so blind, so oblivious to the depth of your feelings?

"Guys my age, huh?!" You retorted sarcastically, raising the volume of your voice just enough to make him look back into your eyes.

But instead of backing down, John simply nodded to your question. And then, as if to salt to your wound, his eyes trailed around the pub, landing on two young guys ordering a drink at the bar.

"Someone like him, not me.'' His tone devoid of self-pity or insecurity.

It was as if he was protecting you, shielding you from the potential pain that could come from being with someone like him.

His words only added more fuel to your fire that was threatening to consume you whole and so you stood up from your seat, straightening your dress with a determined flick of your wrist. Every fiber of your being screamed with frustration, but you refused to let it win.

"You know what, maybe you are right." You said to John, your voice tinged with bitterness.

Trailing your gaze towards the blonde guy at the bar, who seemed more interested in his reflection on his front camera than anything else, you saw an opportunity.

With a calculated move, you turned back to John, his eyes awaiting your next move. With a forced smile, you continued, "Maybe I should take my chances with a younger guy."

Without another word, you turned on your heel, grabbing your purse and made your way towards the bar. As you approached the blonde guy, you could feel John's eyes boring into your back but you tried your hardest not to take a peak.

Instead you sat down next to the new stranger, who finally put his phone down and turned his attention towards you, giving you a warm smile before introducing himself with a simple, ''Hey.''

Glancing back at John for a brief moment, you noticed an unfamiliar look in his eyes. A mixture of possessiveness and jealousy that sent shivers down your spine.

With his jaw clenched and posture tense, John seemed poised to stand up. But you refused to let his sudden change dictate your actions and so maintaining the same fake smile as before, you turned back to the blonde guy.

"Hey, there." You replied, your tone light and casual as you greeted him back.

It was time for you to finally be the cat and it was only a matter of seconds before the mouse came running back to your claws.

#self insert with that Manchester United line sorry guys 🙏 #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price x you #captain price x female reader #captain price smut #captain price angst #cod #call of duty #cod x reader #task force 141 #141 x reader #john price #captain john price #ocaptainchallenge

[peachesofteal]

Light On - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader - 18+ MDNI brief suggestive content, Christmas vibes (these characters do not celebrate Christmas religiously) 🎄 There'll be much mistltoeing / It's the most wonderful time of the year - for @glitterypirateduck's cod holiday challenge

"She's lovely." Laswell comments, standing at his shoulder in the living room.

"She is." He answers, but doesn't bother to look at her, too transfixed on you, watching the way you smile and laugh, champagne flute in one hand, baby in the other. Blood rushes through his body as he stares at you, marveling at how bloody good you look with the baby on your hip, and even though he knows it's an archaic mentality, he can't help but dream about giving you another. Kate gives him a smirk that he just barely catches from the corner of his eye, and he cuts her an exasperated look. "Excuse me."

"By all means."

He makes his way to your side where you're chatting with Gaz's date, Lily, wine colored velvet dress draped across your body, snug and silky across your skin. Your hair is done, styled differently, arranged on top of your head instead of your usual or pulled into something looser, shiny gold cuff curled around the top of your ear. You’re stunning, and his mind turns over, trying to determine if it’s okay or appropriate to tell you for the third time tonight that he’s obsessed with you, that he wants to get you home and worship you, wants to rip your dress off and ruin it. He wonders if you��ll let him take you home early, if you’ll be quiet for him when he bends you over the bed, if you’ll come on his cock all breathy and sweet with his name on your lips.

Emmaline sits embraced in nook of your elbow, white and green dress complemented by tiny, shiny, black shoes, babbling away at anyone who will look at her. She lights up when he steps closer, trying to tip out of your grasp towards his, discontent rising in her crumpled little brow when she can't break free.

"Hi." You beam, his hand finding the small of your back, Emmaline wriggling around to face him, leaning back with a big smile, knocking her head into his side. You roll your eyes at Lily. "I've become chopped liver to my own baby."

"Alright, sweet pea. C'mere then." He settles her on top of his forearm, chubby fist knotting into the collar of his shirt. "Let's give mama a break, eh?" You smile, relieved, reaching up for a kiss, tip toes stretching until he leans to meet you, and when you pull away, you give Emmaline one on her cheek, bright baby giggles echoing through the room. "We're going to see what the team is up to." He bounces her, and your thumb strokes a soft circle into his waist.

"Okay."

"There she is!" Gaz calls, and Emmaline squirms in Simon's grasp, pressing her face into his neck, head tilted just slightly so she can still see the guys, cheeks dimpled. She watches Kyle cautiously, incredibly shy, and Simon whispers to comfort her.

"What's wrong, baby girl? You're alright. It's just Gaz." She mouths at his shirt, and he smooths a hand over the back of her head softly. "She's not usually so reserved, loves attention."

"Ye're scaring her." Johnny admonishes as huffs, breath rolling in a fog through the chilled air, but when Simon turns, Emmaline whips around, peering over his shoulder to stare at Gaz, expression delighted.

"I don't think she's scared, Soap. Looks smitten to me." Johnny clucks his tongue, half outraged, and Gaz just laughs, stroking her cheek as she coos soft sweet nonsense towards him, making Johnny scowl.

“’m supposed tae be her favorite.” He grumbles, and Price barks out a laugh, clapping him on his back.

“Gotta get your own for that, son.” He shakes his head, reaching a finger out to her fist, letting her grab onto him. She immediately starts to drag it towards his mouth, and Price lets her, chuckling softly under his breath. “Needs something for her teeth.”

"I think we've got something in her bag." Simon rubs her back, watching how her eyes light up when she spots Price's beard, tiny fingers mindlessly drifting towards his chin. "Mama's been giving you frozen pacifiers, huh?"

"Ye should try scotch, my maw used tae give me some, when ah was a bairn." Johnny tickles his fingers across her side and she shrieks into a giggle fit, nearly choking on laughter that has him glowing with pride. "Who's yer favorite uncle, Emmaline? Is it Uncle Soap?" Johnny whispers in his best baby voice, and Simon snorts.

"She can't have scotch, MacTavish. She's a baby, and-"

"Alright out here?" You're standing in the door, half in, half out, teetering precariously on the top step, and for the hundredth time tonight you take Simon's breath away, light from the kitchen shimmering behind you like a halo, framing you in a soft, warm yellow glow, his stomach clenching.

"We're alright." He promises, already making his way towards the doorway, taking the stairs until you're within arms reach, Emmaline clapping her hands together when she spots you. "You okay?" He keeps his voice low, yet still tender, trying not to give the guys too much ammo, and you smile, spectacular and sweet, enough to make him melt on the spot.

"Yeah, just wanted to check on you two." You brush a finger across Emma's cheek, mouth opening to say something else when Johnny's voice rings across the patio, cheeky and smug.

"LT, ye're standın' under mistletoe." He hadn't noticed the cluster of greenery tacked to the bricked arch just outside the door, but it's hard to miss now, and when you glance above your head and laugh, he shrugs his shoulders. "Well..."

"Well?" You raise an eyebrow. A challenge. An invitation. Enough of both for him, encouragement not needed in the first place, his lips finding yours easily, pulling you into the bulk of his body, wrapping an arm around your waist while still holding Emma against his chest in the other. She bridges the gap between you, both of his girls safe and sheltered in his arms, and he blocks out the sound of Gaz and Johnny's shouting and whooping, focusing on the taste of your tongue, smell of your skin, plush lips against his. It's everything, you're everything, you and Emmaline- his family, his to love, to care for, to protect, emotion welling up in his chest that has him pulling away and pressing his nose against the top of your head, mouth finding your temple, your cheek, his eyes closed and breaths measured.

"Merry Christmas." He whispers, still holding you tight, and you dip forward to press a kiss to Emmaline's scalp, your hand reaching for his jaw, thumb reverently stroking across the scar on his cheek.

"Merry Christmas Simon."

#peaches writes #light on #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #codholiday2023 #simon ghost riley x reader

[captainfern]

I'm genuinely tweaking rn, I've read all the fics and I don't know what to read now 😭

all of my fics ?? lol wow i appreciate that sm <3

i’ll use this as a chance to recommend some absolutely lovely people and talented writers who deserve endless luv and support !!!

@alwaysshallow @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world @bunnyreaper @bleuu-moon @charliemwrites @cowyolks @chamomiletealeaf @ceilidho @cordeliawhohung @dante-mightdie @deadbranch @eilidh-eternal @fawnchives @frogchiro @glossysoap @groguspicklejar @ghouljams @greatstormcat @ghostlywhiskey @glitterypirateduck @hecateslore @ivymarquis @iciclesses @konigsblog @luminousbeings-crudematter @luvit @lxvvie @ltbunny @l0v3tast3 @lovelyghst @moondirti @moongreenlight @meowpupp @mangowafflesss @naivegh0ul @ohcaptains @ohbo-ohno @peachesofteal @rowarn @stormiwaves @sky-is-the-limit @starry-eyedblog @stargirlrchive @shotmrmiller @shadowlali @tacticalanklebiter3000 @tojisun @yawnderu @yeyinde @391780

(please heed any tags or warnings on each blog and/or work and be kind and respectful)

#yes it’s in alphabetical order i am weird and have way to much time on my hands clearly #reached the 50 tag limit but i could have gone on forever to be completely honest #there is such a diverse range of talent in this fandom that should be celebrated and acknowledged #sending you all lots of luv <33 #captainfern #captainfernsalutes #call of duty #fern’s recs (that go on for way to long but she just has a lot of blogs to show off like a collection of shiny rocks)