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tteokdoroki · 1 year

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*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— marry me + katsukl bakugou.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — katsuki bakugou knows two things for certain. that he loves you and that he’s not afraid of anything… so why are these two simple words so hard to say?

⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up, fluff, high school sweethearts, proposals, pro hero!bakugou, fem!reader.

⭑ words — 2.2K.

⭑ notes — ok so this is an older commission that was clearly written for valentines day but i loved writing it and its super sweet and i think bakugou deserves some sweetness on his birthday so pls take it and enjoy!! ( thank you to @quaranweeb for letting me post!) - m.list ✩

love is weird.

love makes you do crazy things.

at least that’s what bakugou thinks, standing here, in the middle of a cotton candy pink shopping aisle— bombarded with obnoxious and in your face bouquets of roses and cards with love hearts or corny messages inside. there’s an entire day dedicated to the celebration of love— rolling around every year instead of being celebrated constantly throughout. he finds it weird.

but here he is, a little lost and confused in the middle of an aisle dedicated to valentine’s day looking for the perfect bunch of flowers, the perfect card, the perfect little gift for the most perfect person who has ever stepped foot into his life.

you.

you’re something, someone, worth indulging even on this silly holiday. you’ve given katsuki more love than he could ever ask for and more than he thinks he deserves. so, of course he’d want to spoil you with his big plans today, even if they make him nervous or cause a burning bright red blush to spread across his cheeks and neck just at the thought of them. big plans on the day that couples play charades and pretend that they’re happy for the sake of social media. pretend that they’re like you and him— eternal, well and truly in love.

katsuki bakugou used to hate valentine’s day , never believed in the commercialisation of it all— nor the kids in class squealing over who had gotten love notes or little chocolates in the shapes of hearts and cupid’s arrows. it almost embarrassed him, to have people he’d never met fawn over him and confess their affections towards the blonde. he didn’t deserve it, he had always thought.

loving someone isn’t supposed to fix you, it’s not a tool but instead something beautiful to be shared. yet somehow, on that valentine’s day all the way back in katsuki’s third year, you’d mended him. put a bandaid on his broken heart and healed him when you confessed your admiration for him— how strong he was, how brave he was despite all that he’d been through. your speech had been heartfelt, not superficial, meaningful in the way that made the blonde feel like his soul was being seen for the first time.

you’d taken his hands, albeit a little sweaty, under one of the winding trees outside of the U.A dorms and said. ‘i like you, katsuki, even if you don’t feel the same— or can’t say it back. i want you to know that i like you.’ there was no pressure in your voice or whiny insistence like the other’s who had been in your position…even back then katsuki had known you would love him for the rest of your life if given the chance. and he had known it too, murmuring his mutual feelings back to you under the grumbles that sat heavy on his tongue.

from there, he’d opened up a little more— accepted kisses from your sweet lips without flinching away again and craved the type of hugs where you buried your face into his chest because the scent of him comforted you. you embraced the cold together, passionate embers of your young romance keeping you warm for years to come, and now the chilly month of february has become his own solace. it holds his happiest memories, most of them pertaining to you.

but even after many years down the line with handfuls of valentines days underneath katsuki’s belt— he still stands in the middle of the cotton candy themed aisle, a diamond ring burning a hole in his pocket as he freaks out. he’s on the verge of tearing his hair out, deliberating on which flowers you might like the most for today. this day. the one that could determine the course of your lives together.

bakugou needed this day to be absolutely flawless. he’d ordered cheeses straight from italy and fruits from some of the highest rated farmers’ markets in japan just to make sure his girl got the best of the best. he’d even called up your mother from your hometown, asking her for the recipe to that strawberry shortcake you could never stop raving about. the cake that reminded you of summers back home before the chaos of high school and your pro hero career alongside the booming dynamight.

‘you’re good to her, katsuki,’ your mother had praised him over the telephone line just hours prior, the blonde could practically hear her faint smile. ‘please, keep her happy. look after my little girl.’

it’s only after he remembers those words, that katsuki decides on a beautiful arrangement of calla lilies, tulips and peonies— the symbols of romance, a declaration of his love to you.

nothing in this life is promised, but the blonde swears he’ll do his best to look after you just like your mother had asked.

for as long as you both shall live.

“suki,” you breathe, hand on your beating heart, looking up at your boyfriend fondly. “what’s all this?”

the minute you’d stepped in from work, dropped your duffel bag and locked the door behind you— scarred, rough yet tender hands had guided you deeper into your shared apartment only to arrive at a candlelit dinner set up in the centre of your tiny living room. bakugou rubs soothing circles into your bare arms, traces his infield and the shape of a heart around them before he speaks— his chest warm against your back while he towers over you.

“made dinner,” he rasps against the shell of your ear, kissing just under it with the ghost of his lips.

you turn your head then— away from the flickering candle wax flames and up into the heat of his vermillion eyes. a blistering shade of red like the colour of romance. “i can see that, suki,” you tease with a coy smile, as if you’ve already found him out. “you usually do. but this is…it’s just… it’s pretty. is there some sort of special occasion?” you’re right, he may have gone overboard.

your special selection of flowers sits at the centrepiece of the table draped in a linen tablecloth, pink wax candles and the finest silverware accent the set up and of course— your favourite slow song plays in the background, it’s mellow tune vibrating in the air around you as you sway with your boyfriend under the warm yellow light.

the way you stare up at him knowingly has the big bad hero in a shambles. you’ve always been able to get him like this— flustered and shy, shades of rose blossoming on his cheeks like that of a spring bloom. katsuki grumbles with faux annoyance, pinching your side harmlessly. “i just wanted to look after you, spoil you a little since you always take good care of me.”

your all-knowing expression shifts to one of adoration, the creases in your features softening as they’re masked with love for your blonde boyfriend. “oh, suki!” comes your swooning sigh before you stand on your tiptoes and do your best to reach up so you can plant a smooch on his cheek. bakugou grants you some mercy, bending down so you can reach him— long, curly lashes fluttering against his sun-spotted cheeks at your silent ‘i love you.’

he still can’t get over that, how much you love him— how you make sure to let him know that you do, in every single way possible. big or small.

“you wanna eat with me or not, princess?” he asks shyly, bristling with happiness when you kiss him again to show your agreement.

the explosive pro hero is quick to take the rest of your things and have you seated, falling to his knees to undo your work shoes as he places loving kisses from your ankle up to your hand— more specifically, your ring finger. bakugou knows that you’re staring at him while he dishes up your three course meals. you’ve told him before, you loved to watch him cook— it’s the way his arms move and his lips twist into a concentrated pout and his gaze stays honed in on every movement of his knife against the chopping board.

you’ve told him you admire him. you’ve praised him for every dinner he’s ever put in front of you— tonight is no different. over the orange-yellow hue of the candles, content lights up your pretty face with each mouthful you take of each course. your face twitches with excitement, doing a little jiggle of happiness when bakugou serves you up another plate— playing footsies with your boyfriend under the table all at the same time. when he sets the strawberry shortcake in front of you, you practically shiver with delight and latch onto katsuki’s hand to give it a squeeze. another silent i love you. even as you babble on about your day, your load of interns straight from U.A and how you’d had to clean up their messes.

and even though you vent between bites of food, bakugou having to wipe the corner of your mouth with a gentle swipe of his thumb— there’s nothing but a motherly smile on your lips and a caring tone laced into your voice while you talk about them. you love your job and your students; you take care of everyone around you and it only makes the blonde want to pamper you more— make sure you’re cared for too.

katsuki is confident in his career as dynamight, as a hero and as your boyfriend— but cowardness creeps into his veins and he forgets about the ring in his pocket all throughout dinner. it was meant to be a big surprise for the end of it all, but every time he looks at you, his heart drops to his stomach or beats so fast he thinks it might tear a hole through his chest. you end up washing the dishes together, fingertips brushing beneath the cherry-blossom scented and soap sudded water in the sink. a tingle runs down bakugou’s spine whenever your hands touch in the slightest, your delicate fingers passing him wet dishes while he dries them for you.

he can only hope for more sweet scenes of domesticity with you, he dreams of them throughout his day and when he lies next to you at night. katsuki bakugou is so in love with you it feels like he’s suffocating, like he’s desperate for air because all he wants to breathe in is you. all he wants to taste is you. all he needs is you.

you’re still chattering up a storm, washing the last of the cutlery when the blonde hero drops to his knees a second time, fumbling around in his pocket for the ring.

“marry me.” bakugou whispers, so quiet that you almost miss it underneath the volume of water sloshing about in the sink and your own ramblings.

“so anyways i was thinking about getting either you or izuku to help train up my interns some— wait what?”

swallowing thickly to level his strained and shaking voice, bakugou tries again. “marry me,” he repeats simply, forgetting his big speech and all of his words about forever, always and perfection. instead he holds out the engagement ring for you to see, smiling slightly as its glint matches the shimmer of fresh and surprised tears in your eyes. “i love you.”

you nearly drop the soapy glassware you’d been rinsing off, letting katsuki pry it away from your unstable grip before you cup your own face. “b-bakugou! k-katsuki! i mean suki,” comes your reply, each name clinging to the ridges of your throat as your emotions choke you up. “are you serious? w-what are you doing on the floor? get up! k-katsuki bakugou, you better not be playing with me! stand up!”

but bakugou does not budge, setting the wine glass on the floor beside him carefully before he takes your hand with the same amount of care and slides the diamond ring onto the correct finger. “marry me. aren’t ya hearin’ me right? i love you, there’s no one else who’s loved me like you— maybe that’s a selfish reason t’want to marry ya…” his lips, though slightly chapped, brush over your knuckles with each word as if to seal them as an eternal promise into your skin. “but i’m in love with you. always have been. always will be…a-and i wanna spend the rest of my life by your side. so marry me. i love you.”

there’s a moment, a quiet one, where it feels like you’re the only two people in existence before you launch yourself at your boyfriend— swatting at him until he falls back onto his butt and you're able to crawl between his legs. you grab at his cheeks, the metal band of your ring cool against his handsome face as you tug katsuki into a slow and passionate kiss, pouring every word you can’t think to say into it.

when you pull apart there’s soap suds lingering on his golden skin and a look of adoration etched across the slope of bakugou’s features. you take a moment to admire him, tears free flowing, blood rushing through your ears carrying happy hormones and whisper back—

“i’ll marry you, stupid. i love you, too.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou fluff #bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugo x you #bakugou imagines #bakugou fic #bakugo drabble #bakugou drabble #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou fluff #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha fluff #mha x reader #mha fluff #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki

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youraveragenicaddict · 1 year

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Xavier Thorpe X GN!Reader - Tied Up

A/N - I was listening to a Deftones playlist, and my mind went to very unholy places, so I decided to write it (I already posted a version of this, but I didn’t like it so I rewrote it) enjoy (if u want me to finish this then submit an ask lol)

Warnings - it gets heated but no actual smut

THE BOOK IS CALLED ‘’JAY WISEMAN’S EROTIC BONDAGE HANDBOOK’’

DEFTONES S3X PLAYLIST (THE PLAYLIST IS NOT MINE, I FOUND IT AND I LOVED IT OK? DON’T JUDGE ME)

Seeing your boyfriend in chains definitely did something to your brain, but given the circumstances it was in, you didn't want to say anything since it could have been a tad bit traumatic, so you decided on dropping a hint about what you wanted. A big hint.

You had ordered a book. The erotic kind, to be precise. Jay Wiseman's Erotic Bondage handbook to be even more precise. Being an Addams, you already knew the basics to an extent, but decided on reading further into it, so as not to hurt your boyfriend if he decided he was into that.

A week after ordering it, it arrived, and you read it in less than a day. It was pretty interesting, but more importantly, full of tips, how-tos, and safety precautions one had to take.

You couldn't just blatantly give it to him in the middle of the pentagon-shaped courtyard, so you decided to change the covers of the book to those of a poetry book you took from the school library. To be honest, you've never even read the book, but it would have to do.

So on one chilly Friday, when you had bought the ropes and everything you might need, you set out to find Xavier and set your little plan into motion.

While you were walking down the stairs, you ran into your sister, Wednesday, who was probably going to her dorm since it was her writing hour. ''Hey sis, what a lovely afternoon, isn't it?'' You asked her, unusually happy, which made her raise her brow in question. ''Hi, it will be a lovely afternoon when a thunderstorm appears. What has gotten you in such a weird mood? Is it that poetry book you're carrying?'' She said in her usual monotone voice while trying to sneak a peak inside the book. ''Maybe, maybe not, enjoy writing your murder novels, I have shit to do'' You grinned, while walking away, leaving her to question if it was the book or something else, you're not usually THIS cheery.

You found Xavier in the courtyard, painting something on its walls as usual. He didn't notice you standing behind him and jumped a little bit when you wrapped your arms around his torso with a ''hi love'' to accompany your actions. ''Oh hey, what's up?'' he asked, putting one of his hands over yours while continuing his work on the wall. ''What are you painting? Another ''tortured artist'' work?'' You questioned with a small smirk playing on your lips. ''Ha ha, very funny. You're never going to let me live that down, are you?'' He retorted in a mock serious voice, while he was quite obviously grinning as much as you were.

You unwrapped your arms and moved so you were standing next to him before you said in a smug voice, ''I got you something, don't open it in front of people, love. Read it, alright?'' You handed him the book, which he took after cleaning his paint-stained hands with a small towel. ''Poetry? Why can't I open it in front of people? Did you write a murder plan in there or something?'' He joked after taking a look at the book. ''You'll see,'' You stated, and before you left to do your own thing, you gave him a quick kiss on the lips and sent him a wink, walking away. Curious as to what was so important about the book, he opened the first page, in which he found a note in your handwriting, '' When you read this and have decided if you're into it, find me in my dorm :))''. He took off the sticky note and looked at the title, which made him slightly blush since it read ''Jay Wiseman's Erotic Bondage Handbook''. He quickly shut the book and decided that he'll read it after he finished the painting. Xavier was intrigued, to say the least. Of course, you'd be into that, he thought with a slight chuckle.

It was very convenient since you didn't have a roommate and had a queen-sized bed with a metal headboard. You definitely didn't expect to see Xavier standing in your room that evening, dressed in grey sweatpants and one of your Metallica t-shirts.

''Hey, you.'' You said, walking to him and giving him a hello kiss. He instinctively wrapped his arms around your waist. It looked like he was contemplating something, so you raised your brow in a questioning manner. You didn't even get to ask what was bothering him when he responded with a yes.

You had a confused look on your face when he let go of you and went to your bed to find something he had put there earlier. Xavier raised the disguised handbook and then handed it to you. ''Open it,'' He said. He ran a hand through his hair and sat down on your bed, waiting.

You opened the book and found your note inside, but in addition to the original one, you found a ''yes'' scribbled under your text. You smiled, closed the book, and put it on your desk before going to sit beside him. ''Are you sure?'' You asked while moving strands of hair that had fallen into his face behind his ear. ''Yeah, I thought about it, and since you know what you're doing, at least I hope so,'' he chuckled while you grinned at him, '' I'm open to trying it.'' You didn't need any other confirmation. You smashed your lips onto his in a heated kiss, while he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him. Testing the water, you lightly bit down on Xavier's lower lip. You could feel he was fighting against the noises that were creeping their way out of his throat. ''Wait, I forgot to lock the door, shit,'' He exaggeratedly whined when you got up, and let his back fall against the soft mattres of your bed. You quickly locked the door, checked that it was really locked, and turned on some music. Xavier recognized the playlist immediately, and he'd be lying if he said that it didn't turn him on. Before going back to him, you rummaged through your closet and pulled out a box in which the ropes you had previously bought were in. Xavier was watching your every move and you could feel his lustful gaze.

You carelessly dropped the ropes on your bed and got yourself comfortable in Xavier's lap. He raised his body to meet yours and kissed you again, this time it was a lot more passionate. Your mouth slowly opened up, enjoying the feeling of his tongue against yours. He didn’t notice it, but you had placed a hand on his neck, slowly moving it upward to grab a fistful of his hair and roughly pull on it. Xavier couldn't contain himself anymore and let out a low moan.

You smiled into the kiss and let your hands wander lower down his body, to the hem of the shirt, your shirt, that he'd been wearing, and helped him out of it. He let out a groan as the cold night air collided with his naked torso. You instructed him to move up against the headboard. Before you did anything, you reminded him of the safe words, green for go, yellow for pause, and red for immediate stopping.

After making sure he was comfortable, and you had scissors on your nightstand, you began to tie up his hands with the soft rope, carefully, not to restrict blood flow. While you were focused on the task at hand, Xavier began placing kisses on your neck. You yanked his hands back to tie them to the headboard, making his back hit the mattress again. He was slightly panting, his eyes full of want and need. You admired the sight before you, it wasn't a thing you see every day, but you already had the picture engraved in your mind. You lowered your head so you could kiss him again, your lips moving in sync. When you lifted your head, he whined at the loss of contact, but you were already moving lower, starting to attack his neck with hickeys that would be visible for a week at least. Xavier moaned softly when you found that one spot that felt the best and continued your work there. You were so caught up in the moment you almost didn't hear the two knocks on your door. You chose to ignore them, hoping the person would go away, but they didn't and continued knocking. ''For fucks sake,'' you whispered, annoyed at whoever was standing outside your dorm. What made you freeze in your place was the new principal's voice.

''Turn that music down. I have received complaints about the noise from other students,'' She tried to shout over the Deftones song playing in the background. You cleared your throat and yelled '' Sorry, I'll turn it down.'' ''You better, and if I hear another complaint about it, I'll make sure you can't play that music at all.'' She hollered, irritated since it wasn't the first time you'd done this.

You made your way to the speaker and turned the music down a little bit, so it wasn't too loud, but loud enough. ''Now, where were we?'' You turned to Xavier, still tied up on your bed, watching you, lips slightly parted, waiting for your next move.

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

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WAIT I HAVE A THOUGHT! ok i have two i think it could turn into more but price using his military rank to either a) get someone to back off of sunshine!reader and marissa OR b) sunshine calls him captain during sex OR c) HE USES IT IN BOTH OF THOSE SITUATIONS IN THE SAME FIC 👀👀 …are those weird? idk but if you feel up to it this is a request for you to work your magic on this please and thank you

A/N: uhm, don't look at me nonnie, I got too carried away🫣

Rank me

Summary; As a Captain, Price has an air of authority not everyone does. One day when he returns from base, he finally makes you admit why you find that trait of his particular attractive

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

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Onehsot

Word count; 9.3k

Warnings; smut (18+, no minors please), captain!kink, vaginal fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, slight edging, d/s themes,

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

SUNSHINE UNIVERSE MASTERLIST

You sit opposite John, elbow resting against the armrest, head propped up by your fingers. He's seated in one of the two armchairs on the other side of your coffee table while you're sitting on your couch. A folder rests partly on the armrest of his seat and the unoccupied armchair beside him. A few more maps, although closed, were placed on the table.

You're not nosy with John's work, so the seemingly inconspicuous folders aren't what's gotten your attention. The man reading through them does.

John's elbow relaxes on the armrest while his lower back is curved, sunken into his seat, legs spread with feet planted firmly on the ground.

You'd tried to remind him of his posture, knowing he probably would complain about his back if he sat like that for too long. When you had, those blue eyes had flickered to yours with an appreciative look as he repositioned himself straight. However, he didn't last like that for long before slowly melting downwards again, retaking his 'I have a bad back but won't do anything about it pose'.

Although, as you now watch him working, it isn't a chide resting on your tongue.

John has returned to active duty, the past week being his first one back since he extended his issued downtime by a week after his most recent deployment, the one during late summer. You learned there's a big difference between active duty and deployed, never even coming close to either despite that martial course you took a few years back. The former meant you often were stationed on your home base, able to go back and forth home if you desired, much like ordinary work. The latter entailed 'a little field trip' as John worded it.

Today, John came to your place as soon as he got off from base, much like he'd done a few times during the week.

You didn't fuss about spending less time with him than when he was on leave. Not only was it John's job, but there were no regulations for contacting him, so he called the days you didn't meet. Often, the description of his day was brief, only defined somewhat if anything varied from his typical routine. John was usually more interested in how you were and whether you'd done something interesting. If your day had been equally bland, he enjoyed just listening to whatever was on your mind. Today, however, no phone call replaced his absence.

You and John planned to spend the weekend together at your place, and much like he'd promised, he called you once on his way. But, rather than a simple heads-up, he also informed you he would bring some paperwork, his superiors pushing a last-minute request upon him as he was about to leave. You suspected he was permitted to leave base with the documents through his involvement in the 141, not solely because his response ideally -another word for required- would be reported back tonight.

You've learned a great deal about how John likes to work, even if you've been fortunate to develop your relationship with him in a particularly deployment-free time window of his.

He prefers keeping work and home separate, not wanting the two words to bleed together in favour of your relationship. John explained why when you didn't understand his frustration about bringing some work with him back home during your earlier call.

Deployments cut into your shared time as it fits, the two of you having to work around it rather than the other way around. Therefore, he intends to limit work to base to savour your time while on active duty or ahead of a leave. If that meant staying a day or so longer after returning from a mission where logistics needed to be taken care of, as he'd done during the summer and your first extended period apart, he said he would make that choice. And if there's an increased load of executive planning and paperwork due to an upcoming operation, his approach is the same.

He explained that, in the past, he'd very much blurred the lines, seeing how being alone and doing nothing for long periods left him restless. But with you in the picture, John tried to balance it. And just like that, you understood his dilemma tonight. He didn't want to make it a habit: filling the time he spent with you working.

You'd tried to compromise, not that you technically could, as he needed to finish his report no matter what. But, you tried to ease John's mind, telling him that sometimes it happened, just like it probably would for you. That was why you also proposed spending time in each other's company by working on your separate stuff, so he didn't feel like he took time away from you.

For you, that was just fine. It had already been an informal workday for you, meaning no meetings and no contact with clients, simply organising stuff and getting ahead on projects for the upcoming week. Continuing with that for a bit longer was no problem.

Your sluggish day of labour was apparent, as you hadn't even changed out of your sleeping shirt. Neither had you scampered to get a pair of pants when John knocked on your door, favouring to simply greeting him as you were.

He'd been surprised at seeing your state of undressed, rather bare-legged with only underwear beneath his black t-shirt, one of those he left behind earlier during the week.

Though not surprised like him, you were as delighted as all the other days he'd stopped by, spoiled rotten with seeing him dressed like this.

Like most days this week, that implied some getup per military standard. Today, John wore fitted cargo pants and an army sweater that got the quarter-zip open, offering a view of the tight-fitted shirt beneath it.

He'd greeted you in his same old fashion, a 'hello, love' as he stepped forward and over the threshold to meet you with a kiss. What followed, however, was a hummed 'can get used to bein' greeted like this' against your lips as he parted from you.

He'd ushered you backwards to let him enter and hide you from any potential neighbours passing by your entrance to see your scantily clad figure.

You didn't object as he closed the door behind him and put down his bag before kneeling to unlace his heavy boots. Instead, your eyes had flittered over his haunched form as he rucked loose his laces before standing straight again, hooking the back of his shoes beneath his toes and stepping out of them.

He'd followed you into your living room then, deciding to sit opposite you to avoid disturbing the corner you'd set up on the couch, where your computer and blue-light glasses waited.

Currently, your laptop rests on a pillow in your lap. The glasses you'd invested in, purely because of the copious amount of time you spent before a screen through work, resting on the bridge of your nose. Yet, you're currently using neither as you should.

The same black standby screen stares at you now as when you'd gone to greet John when he arrived two hours ago. And, your glasses don't serve their purpose of shielding your vision from electronic lights, concerning your attention is directed towards the burly figure of a man sitting so leisurely opposite you.

You hadn't seen John in his work clothes many times. Technically, you'd never seen him geared up and probably never would. So, the closest thing you would get was the standard dressing code he needed to adhere to on base. Up until this week, you'd barely even seen that.

Whereas now and for a few months ahead, the military would cling to him whenever he came around straight from work and spent the night, leaving in a similar-styled fashion in the morning concerning active duty often meant early mornings on base for John, either for a workout regime, meetings or supervising cadets. Between those instances, while unwinding with you, he changed into something more comfortable.

That was why your time of admiring John in these clothes was brief. And yet today, you got to indulge in one of the considerably fewer instances when he didn't immediately change after greeting you and borrowing your shower. In fact, this night was a total break in the routine.

Your eyes drop to the bag beside the armchair John occupies.

He'd said he would take his usual post-work-freshening-up shower after finishing the most pressing report. But, he'd gotten stuck in the typical workflow that was difficult to break, reaching for another map of documents rather than the bag resting by his feet. Maybe you should've reminded him, but you didn't.

The honourable reason? You didn't want to disturb John when noting the pile of documents to read had staggered to a measly two compared to the stack he'd brought. The selfish reason making your attention stray considerably more than his laser-focused one? You wanted to savour his appearance a bit longer.

You knew the visible neckline of the shirt beneath his sweater teased about what was underneath, namely a compression shirt fitted to accentuate John's muscled torso rather than hide it, a sight drool-worthy by itself. But the jumper wasn't a villain for hiding it. In your opinion, it added to it, making the blue-eyed man appear even broader than he already was, as if he could envelop you simply with his frame, tucking you within the expanse of his shoulders.

Despite how John managed to look so good in clothes produced for durability rather than fashion, it wasn't necessarily the clothes making you unable to rip your eyes off of him.

As always, your eyes drag over John's body until your gaze latches onto the embroiders littered over the sweater.

On the upper part of his chest, in an easily read, nothing fancy, standard military font, the precise writing of Price is visible. The lettering, placed square in sight on his right pectoral, stands out in a lighter blue text rather than the dark navy composing the sweater. On the opposite side, in the same-letter style, SAS. Sewn onto the right arm of his jumper is a badge-like British flag, so his unit's emblem. Symbols stating his rank also adorn his clothing, marks that your civilian eye probably wouldn't be able to interpret if you didn't already know he was a Captain.

That is why you like seeing John in his work attire.

The air around him changes. His typical calm stoicism tenfolds, acting as a reminder that his presence demands respect.

It wasn't a shift that screamed for attention, not hollered as a command to notice. You believe it's because it simply blends with John's personality at home so well. Either his work-life had engrained it into his DNA, so it always was a part of him no matter where he went. Or those traits had always been his fortes, even before serving in the military. You didn't know for sure which was correct.

Nonetheless, John's calm, secure and disciplined persona reached new heights. He looked like a man in charge.

It was almost mortifying how affected you got when he dressed like this. And yet, it was just something about John in dark blue or army green attires, with his rank so underwhelmingly stated but so evidently sensed, that made a part of you quiver in excitement.

Yeah, that Captain John Price was a weakness of yours was clear as fucking day.

"You doing good over there, Captain?" Blue eyes shift from the papers he held over his lap to meet your gaze.

You always revel in how swiftly his attention shifts to you when you use his rank. You didn't do it often. After all, at home, he wasn't Captain. But sometimes, even you used the alias.

"Mm, all good, love". John's answer was slow, eyes flickering over you before nodding, his eyes falling to the paper before him again.

"The Captain fancying a cup of tea?"

This time, John didn't move his head. He only glanced up, almost watching you through his eyebrows. "Wouldn't mind". The reply was short, his voice rough. Not grumpy, annoyed or anything like that. Simply profound.

You flash him a smile, pushing your computer aside and setting your glasses on the keyboard. As you stand from the couch, you stretch your legs.

You catch John's eyes lowering and you bet he didn't abstain from trailing them down your bare legs as you jostle the tingles out of them. Smiling to yourself, you head into the kitchen.

Fine, sometimes you may use his rank solely for his reaction.

You argue he shouldn't react like that. It's understandable he barely reacts to it when the boys of 141 use it just as much as his government name when addressing him. He must be used to it. So sure, surprise could be the reason in your instance. At the same time, it shouldn't, regarding it holds no value, no substance, when you use his rank.

Still, you've noticed it seemingly carries some weight.

The most common reaction you'd gathered was how swiftly you earned his attention. Nearly every time, you suppressed a grin at how it worked like clockwork. A sharp flicker of his eyes, gaze intense. You've also noticed how his head cock, eyes seemingly searching yours before they often slipped down your figure as he returned to whatever had his attention previously. And then it was how John eventually answered you. Sometimes, he cleared his throat before speaking, others not. Both choices provide a reply of comparable nature. Without exceptions, his voice was deep.

John's smokey, baritone voice was always pleasant to listen to. There were no edges, even though he wasn't afraid to remain silent between his sentences. And when he filled those with the occasional hum, a purr threatened to spill from your lips to how the low cord melted like liquid gold into your ears. And yet, his voice usually became gruffer when he spoke as a Captain in a professional setting.

You'd registered it when he once had taken a phone-call to book a time for a meeting with someone named Laswell or when he reprimanded one of the guys in a borderline-serious manner when you met them at a pub during one of their parallel leaves. The firmness in those deeply spoken sentences wasn't present when you dropped a 'Captain' while talking to him.

But there was something else. Something under your skin just begging you to consider it's awfully close to a particular lustful drawl of John's. The one you regard as utterly and painfully arousing. If not for the truth, then for your lustful desires.

You lean against the counter as you wait for the water to boil, arms crossed over your chest.

Facing the living room, you watch the only fascinating thing there.

John just about placed the stack of papers he'd been reading back into its corresponding map, leaning forward to position it on top of the rest. Leaning back again, you notice how he sighs from the quick movement of his chest while opening the last lacklustre folder beside him. Leaving it open, John takes out the reports by gripping its stapled corner, swiftly picking up the reading again. As he does, he notches his thumb beneath his jaw, index finger swiping back and forth over his lower lip, brows pulling together.

If not for the kettle signalling it's ready, you would've gotten stuck there, rooted in place as you take in the sight of the incredibly handsome man, your handsome man, so engrossed in his work.

Preparing your respective beverages is easy. The task is something you've done countless times by now. So, within minutes, you're heading towards the seating arrangement with your respective mugs.

John notices your presence before his attention shifts to you, noticeable from how he pulls his stretched-out leg back towards him so you can step between his seat and the coffee table. Yet those blues flicker to you with an appreciative look right before you turn to settle his cup of tea on the tabletop.

You set the mug down momentarily, reaching for a protective coaster. Placing the circular piece of wood close to the cup, you rearrange it to rest atop it instead.

That could've been it. You could've just wandered back to your seat, either in an attempt to work or admire the view again. But no.

"There you go, Captain". You shift to face John with an innocent smile, gesturing to the cup from where steam curls upwards, filling the closest proximity of air with a spicy but soft scent of herbs. His hand has fallen from his jaw. Now, it rests on top of the folder at the armrest as he gazes at you, blues-eyes truly observing you.

You don't know why the seemingly innocent eye contact makes you squirm. But from how John watches you, a feverish sensation rushes through your body, heating you from the inside under the scrutiny of his gaze.

The concoction of having John dressed like he is, watching you as he does and your lecherous imagination does wonders to lighten your belly on fire. You bite your lip, about to return to your seat, when John sits up, abruptly halting your attempt.

The swift thought of 'he's reaching for his mug' is wiped away immediately as he instead reaches for you.

He circles the back of your neck with his big hand and tugs you down enough to meet him in a kiss. A soft, surprised noise vibrates against his lips, your eyes widening in reaction to his unexpected action, as opposed to his, which slips close.

"Such a darlin' to me, you know that?" John hums the word against your lips. And even if you like doing these small things for him because you see how much he enjoys them, your breath hitches, making John's eyes flutter open.

When meeting your still wide-eyed expression, his lips bow upwards beneath his beard before his hand falls from your neck. This time, he reaches for the mug.

As you straighten, your cup clutched against your stomach, John slouches backwards again.

"It's nothing", you reply to the man who looks too fucking indecent for still being fully dressed from the way his thighs fall outwards.

"It's everythin'", John insists. Your heart makes a dangerous leap as his baritone voice travels straight down.

The way he's watching you doesn't help at fucking all as you feel a surging need to squeeze your legs together, something that would be embarrassingly noticeable from John's position.

Rather than answering, mouth incredibly dry all of a sudden, you only return his appreciation with a small smile.

That his eyes follow you when you head back to your seat is apparent, your heart continuing its elevated rhythm with each step you take and his attention on your back. But when you sit down, facing him again, he's back to reading, the mug resting against his thigh.

Much like John, you should go back to work. But you don't need to look at your computer to know your last sliver of motivation has disappeared. Your attention undividedly on something else entirely.

You shuffle in your seat, one leg bent and resting on the cushioned seat beneath you, the other pulled close to your body with your foot planted on the couch. It makes you lean slightly to the side and the pillows you'd stacked for a makeshift edge towards the couch's middle.

Unable not to, your eyes flitter over John's form as you nurse your drink.

His legs spread wide, trapping your gaze to glide over his crotch more than once, especially as he readjusts his position, hips doing that slight upwards jut as he makes himself more comfortable. You also follow his action of occasionally raising the mug to his mouth, his eyes never leaving the paper as he does.

You watch as he sets down the documents on his leg to switch to the next side with the same hand, not desiring to go through the action of leaning forward, putting down the cup of tea, only to retrieve it to situate himself again.

Eyes remaining on the cup, you remark how John's big hand wraps around it, having no trouble encasing more than half of it. You compare it to how you hold your cup. One hand grabs the ear while your other hand curves along the opposing side.

When he raises the mug to his mouth, you follow the move, gaze lingering on his face even though he lowers it not soon after.

You map the line of his beard, the purse of his lips, and how his eyes move from the left to the right as he follows the sentences on the paper.

And then, John's eyes flicker upwards, catching your blatant staring. Amusement flickers to life in those blues when you don't even try to play it off before he adverts his gaze down to the paper.

"You're starin', love". John remarks. The cup of tea is brought to his lips as his attention remains on the document.

"Just enjoying the view", you shrug. Not untrue.

John's brows arch. Not much later, as if wanting to finish a sentence, his head tilts upwards to look at you. "That so?"

"Mhm", you flash him a brief smile before you raise your mug to your lips, sipping its contents. His eyes narrow briefly.

Even though you can't think of anything odd in your reaction, John apparently does.

"Is there somethin' more?"

Your heart jumps. "No, you're free to continue working", you try deflecting John's attempt at making you explain what's on your mind. Apparently, you only succeeded in catching his attention more.

"I'm done". John states, making your brows jump and eyes flicker downwards, not having noticed he was on the last page of a considerably thinner stack of papers, unlike the previous ones.

"Weren't you instructed to report back?" Your gaze shifts back to his face.

"Taken some notes. I'll send a mail later before goin' to bed". John replies promptly, meanwhile restoring the papers in their proper order. As he places the stack back in its map and drops it on top of the other finished ones on the table, he speaks. "Now I want to hear about what you're tip-toein' around 'cause it doesn't seem like nothin'".

"No, really, it's nothing important".

John cocks his head, brows raising in a silent inquiry.

You refuse to believe it's the 'men in uniform' curse amongst civilians. You know that's not the case, seeing how you don't find all soldiers good-looking just because, only John. Even so, you detest the thought of seeming disrespectful, fearing you reduced his career path to a mere point of attraction. It was one thing allowing it to fuel your imagination. But to admit it aloud? To John? Yeah, no.

You reach for the case of your glasses, popping it open with ease and inserting the specs. Placing them on top of your now closed laptop, you scoop them up and stand, about to discard the items in your bedroom.

The action was not impulsive. You always put your device on charge once John arrives. Today, it understandably changed to when he finished the reports he'd brought. Yet you didn't get that far, stopped unexpectedly by his voice.

"Sit". Your body stalls, brows raising. When you don't do as John says, his head cocks, fingers rapping against the armrest as he motions to the seat you just stood from with a nod. This time, you follow his request. "Talk to me, love. What's on your mind?"

Your fingers clutch your computer briefly before you reluctantly set it down on your coffee table. You sip your tea, searching for your words.

Upon your silence, stalling, an urging 'hm?' stems from John.

"I just, you know, think you look good today".

"Do I look any different today than otherwise?" He inquires. You don't think he means to interrogate you, but it feels just like that from how he watches you closely from his seat. It makes you squirm, raising your mug to your lips again before you answer.

"Well, you got those on".

John hums softly, a sound of acknowledgement. And, ever as keen, he figures out what your haphazard motions to his attire imply. "You like the clothes". It's more of a statement than a question, but you give him a nod anyway.

"They look good on you".

"That's what got you so worked up?"

"I'm not-"

"You are", he muses, cutting off your sentence as he leans forward, forearms resting on his knees as he places his mug on the coaster. "Those glasses you're religiously stubborn about using have been more off your face than not despite that laptop of yours being right in front of your face", he points out.

Your brows pull together, lips parting as a protest isn't far away. But John beats you to it.

"No need denyin', I've noticed you starin' at me more than that screen of yours. Then we can't forge 'bout your teasin'".

This time, your brows genuinely furrow. "I haven't teased you?".

His head tilts to the side. "No? Could think I never left base with how much you've used my rank tonight, love".

Oh, oh. John thinks your use of his rank is teasing. So it must mean something different when you use it. Not just in your imagination, then. Regardless of discovering this, you don't know how to react to John's admittance. You still feel like a mouse being toyed with by a cat.

He watches you expectantly as if waiting for you to speak up. Instead, your fingers only rap against your mug before raising it again.

You tip your cup, yet no liquid reaches your lips. Your eyes flicker downwards as you lower it, noticing its emptiness.

The nervous sips you'd taken off your tea have apparently drained it quicker than you anticipated.

Much like a mouse making a break for it each time the cat releases it, you don't hesitate to stand and head into the kitchen to discard your mug, seizing the chance to escape John's heavy gaze and probing for enough time you don't fumble for an answer.

What you don't expect is the footsteps following you into the kitchen. But you should've. The cat never lets its prey get too far away.

Naturally, you look over your shoulder.

John moves so assuredly. There's a slight sway to his hips, strides not hurried despite covering the same distance as you in a much more rapid fashion. Confidence, he oozes it from the very way he carries himself.

There's no denying that such a mass moving with such practised ease is on the verge of terrifying. But the thrill harbours an indisputable excitement, especially as your eyes briefly meet John's blue ones, calm but bright with intrigue.

You turn forward as you reach the kitchen counter, putting your mug in the sink, attempting to hide how he affects you. But believing you could hide from an elite soldier in plain sight is foolish.

The hairs on your neck stand when John steps up behind you.

He sets his mug beside yours before his hands settle on the counter. With one hand at either side of you, his shoulders haunch to eclipse yours, making your heart thump in your chest.

"Indulge me. What about the clothes you like so much it got you behavin' like this?"

"Uhm-". Your thoughts screech to a halt as you flail for something to say. Admitting just how much John in these clothes affects you brushes on mortifying. "The way it fits you, I guess", you settle on in the end.

"You guess?". John repeats close to your ear.

Pride and a certain level of amusement roll off of him in waves, seeping right through your back, worming itself to your front only to nestle in your chest. Rather than installing the same emotions in you, they fuel your desire and jittery nerves.

"Love?" He gently encourages you to detail your answer, causing you to bite your inner cheek, rolling the meat between your molars. You may be tentative to admit your inner thoughts. But, it's still John with his incredibly calm and soothing self that puts you at ease and finally makes you relent.

"They just make you feel stronger, more authoritative-"

"Authoritative?" If you would've faced John, his inquisitive look would've met you. And yet, you don't even need to, feeling it burn into the side of your head as his ducked head angles towards you. You see it out of your peripheral, how he gazes at you, but you persistently stare directly forward as you give him a slight nod.

You swallow, worrying that you overstepped as you tried explaining the indecent thoughts wrecking your brain without spewing their true nature as blatantly as they arise.

Assuming that's the reason for John's momentary silence, he surprises you when he finally speaks.

"You know, love", he hums, airy and amused. Your eyes drop, following his hands as they trail up the stone counter until they settle on top of yours. His fingers worms in between your slender ones. "I have noticed how remarkably much you've been staring, how handsy you've been when I come home like this".

Body lightening on fire, a warm rush sweeps through you, the sound of blood suddenly pounding noticeably in your ears as you duck your head. Had you? You hadn't even thought so.

"Nothing to fluster about".

"Well, I do", you bite back, but there's no venom to your words, only embarrassment that you hadn't hidden your desire well enough, even if it was to an elite soldier you'd lost to. The mouse would forever lose to the cat.

"Why?"

"Because it's wrong, John. Just because you fit too bloody good dressed like a Captain, it shouldn't turn me on this fucking much". Thank god you're not looking at him. You would've sunken through the floor.

"I remember you mentioned somethin' like that the night we met".

"I said that you suit being a Captain, not that it turns me on". John's exhale borders on a groan and your brows knit together when you catch it.

"Remember you called me that as well". John brushes past the admittance in your sentence as if it's nothing. "Caught me off-guard the first time". He nudges your head from the side, hands tightening over yours.

"Why?" You breathe, realising his voice has dropped into a husky depth. It only did that when his arousal stirred, which sparked your curiosity enough to repress your humiliation.

"Sounded so wrong from you, a civvie callin' me by rank. But I couldn't deny I liked it". John's face falls into your neck, placing a kiss beneath your ear as he drops a fraction of his weight against your back. Still, it's enough to cage you to the counter and feel his hardening cock against your rear. Your eyes widen. "And then you said it while I was stuffin' that cunt of yours. Bloody hell, I almost lost my head when you called me Captain all stunningly dishevelled beneath me". A surprised gasp rips from your throat at John's words curl along the shell of your ear while he shoves his growing erection against you.

"What are you saying?" Your chest heaves at the end of your sentence as John rubs himself against the plush swell of your ass from behind.

"I'm tellin' you, despite how wrong it is, that I like when you call me Captain". He husks into your ear, using your wording from earlier.

John steadily grinds against you, pressing you further into the counter's edge. Instinctually, you arch against him, but one of his hands swiftly grabs your hip, forcing you down.

"Love, I wanna try somethin' out", he hums. "Tell me if it gets too much. Understood?" There's no hesitancy in John's voice, only an alluring reassurance and passion that pikes your interest.

"Yeah, alright".

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, John, I understand". You whine, curiosity eating you from the inside, yet he only tsks at you.

"You know what to call me". You inhale sharply. Fuck, could he be talking about? He is. You swallow, mind reeling as you realise John's alluding to something you've only entertained as fantasy. And yet, his rank solely remains a heavy, dirty thought. "Come on, love, know you want to".

You swallow, eyes wide and staring forward. John must sense your hesitancy as his hand rucks the shirt you're wearing upwards, baring your ass. Attempting to coax you, he shoves his bulge straight into your scantily covered pussy.

"I want you to say it, m'not goin' any further until you do. Both of us must want this". That does the trick. You wouldn't pass up on this chance.

"C-Captain".

"Whole sentence, love".

"I understand, Captain".

"Good girl". He praises you. "Now, you'll take what I give".

"Oh", you breathe out as a violent shiver runs down your spine and the muscles attaching to the back of your head quiver.

John's not only igniting something so perfectly inside your body. He also flips a switch in your head with his commanding voice, precisely the one that made his authoritative nature as a Captain so attractive.

"From your reaction, it seems you don't mind bein' ordered around". John breathes into your ear. "Is that correct?"

"Don't mind".

The man behind you releases a hum as he tests your reply by nudging his foot against your right ankle. You can feel him smirk at how you react, widening your stance one foot at a time without any resistance. Even when John presses himself against your back and continues forward by bending over you until you're flat against the kitchen counter, you don't resist him.

"So pliant, aren't you?" One of his hands releases yours, yet you continue pressing it against the stone. His fingers trail up your now bent arm, over your shoulder and along the curve of your body until his fingers curl around your waist.

You nod swiftly, only catching the faintest reflection of the movement even though your cheek rests against the polished stone surface. He chuckles at your hasty reply, the sound cracking up the length of your spine.

"Mhm, stay like that now". John instructs, standing straight with a squeeze to your hand that, up until now, remained intertwined with his.

His fingers run along your clothed spine until it reaches your bared lower vertebral, then your ass until it dips between your legs from behind, pressing into the seam of your underwear.

"Fuckin' hell, you've gotten this wet already? So desperate for your Captain, eh?" You whimper as he pushes against the damp fabric, the material pressing into your folds.

"Yes, John-Captain!" You correct yourself as he slaps your pussy upon the slip-up. The tap of his palm doesn't hurt but acts as a reminder. Nevertheless, it sends a jolt of pleasure up your spine, making you squirm.

"Two rules, love", he remarks. "One, for now, it's Captain. Two, if you don't keep still, I'll stop touchin' you, leavin' you all pent up, just like this, right here", he makes clear. As if daring you to obey, a gentle test calculating how much you really want this, his thumb shallowly probes against your core. Your eyes snap shut, teeth digging into your bottom lip, a forced exhale escaping your lungs as you concentrate on not rocking backwards while fabricating a reply.

"Y-yes, Captain".

As if content with your words and actions, John steps away. Despite the loss of contact, you remain in your position.

Your pulse thrums as you listen to John, picking up on the shift of clothes and the sound of a zipper. Your anticipation skyrockets as he doesn't hurry his movements, taking his sweet time before he touches you again. When he does, he pulls down your panties until the elastic band digs into the middle of your thighs.

A shuddering breath escapes your lungs when nothing separates John's fingers from your exposed wetness. He runs two fingers up and down almost leisurely until one digit firmly pushes against your clit in a circular sweep. The sudden attention to your throbbing bundle of nerves sends neurons flying.

You don't even know on what scientific level it's possible to stop an involuntary reaction, but just as you feel your lower back muscles tightening, you slam the flatness of your palm against the counter with a 'shit' as you try.

You wouldn't count it as moving, but you did twitch upon the surprising pressure against your clit. And as John pulls away, placing his hand on the small of your back, you whine in defeat, knowing he caught it too.

"What was that?".

"Nothing, nothing, please, Captain, I'll be good". You don't even realise what you say yourself as you plead with John. He couldn't leave you there. You would possibly explode.

He only tuts, hand pressing firmer against your spine. Your heart drops for a second until he speaks. "I'll let you of this once".

"Thank you". John groans behind you, curse breathed beneath his breath as his character breaks for a moment, caught off guard by your rushed response. It's not long, but it's a reminder that it's still John behind you.

A swift pressure change against your spine indicates he's gathered himself again before he picks up where he left off.

His finger starts trailing up and down your folds again, but you remain in your position in spite of how your legs quiver in want, a desire for more.

Your wet, sopping, John's digit coated swiftly in your slick as he teases you.

He toys back and forth before his finger slips down. This time you've already braced yourself when he circles your clit. You force yourself to hold still as you whine at the contact, wanting nothing more than to rock backwards.

Noticing your struggle and stubbornness, John's free hand grabs your hip, kneading the flash with gentle squeezes. "Mhm, just like that, love, doin' so good for me".

His baritone rolls over your back, making you shudder, skin knotting with goosebumps. He never once stops the slow movement of his finger, causing you to clench around nothing continuously, especially as he starts flicking the tip of his finger.

You press your forehead against the counter upon the small, sharp jolts of electricity firing pleasure through your nervous system. But it's so fleeting it doesn't have an opportunity to build into anything damning as John pulls away from your clit, falling back to running his digit along your folds.

John stays clear from your throbbing bundle of nerves, rotating his hand as he teasingly concentrates more and more attention on your entrance. You release an anticipated breath as he brushes over it repeatedly until you bite your lip. You want to tilt your hips to make him slip inside. But you withhold the urge, thankfully reaping the rewards before you get desperate enough that your body acts on instinct.

John puts the slightest pressure behind the dragging motion. At first, only the tip of his finger enters you before he pulls it back, doing the same thing a few times until he pushes its entirety inside.

You moan even though it's not nearly enough to stretch you so deliciously you feel full. But it just feels good having something sliding in and out of you. Though one soon turns to two when John pulls out, a second finger prodding your pussy before both slip inside.

Squelching noises fill the air as he fingers you, his other digits pressing against your ass. You pant, unable to keep your noises at bay as he finally relents somewhat in his fleeting touches and indulges you with some relief. But it's not nearly enough.

The pace remains slow, his fingers imitating a stroking motion even inside you rather than plunging deep and fast or wriggling forcefully to spur an orgasm. Now, you only feel your high building oh so slowly that it's frustrating how flat the exponential curve is.

And yet, as if projected from your body, you can see the scene you're a part of and find it unbelievably arousing.

John, with his cock freed from his pants and occasionally brushing against your rear, otherwise fully clothed, almost lazily pumping his fingers in and out of your hole as you bend over the counter, panties around your legs, doing your damnedest to keep fucking still.

You moan at the image, hands pressing flat against the counter before curling into fists. It's so fucking erotic that you feel John's fingers suddenly sliding more easily in and out despite the way you clench around them.

"You're practically drippin', love", he teases you, fingers leaving your entrance for a few seconds, not hovering far from your pussy, until they return with a press against your clit, a new chillier slickness coating them. The acknowledgement that you're wet enough it nearly dribbles from you wears your patience to the breaking point.

"Captain, I can't take it, fuck me already". John doesn't reprimand you for your demand, only chuckles as he steps close, cock pressing against your asscheek.

His fingers have dropped from your clit, but his touch is soon replaced with the head of his cock as he guides it to your folds, running it up and down to coat himself in your slick.

You let out a shuddering moan as John pushes slightly against your entrance, tip breaching your hole, only to slip out and repeat the movement. Regardless that he's in charge, your frustrated cry is all it takes for him to push into you properly with an amused huff that sharply pivots into a grunt.

"Yeah, just like that- arch for me… good girl…". John groans, and you take his urge to meet his thrust that you're finally free to move as you wish.

You gape as he bottoms out in one slow press, hips pressed flush against your ass. You feel his legs tremble, his hands flexing on your hips, but he stays still for your sake of accustoming to his girth.

"So good for your Captain". You whimper at his words, making him chuckle breathily. "Oh, you like that, eh?" He feigns ignorance of what he'd learnt: that you absolutely do. He grabs a fistful of your ass. "Dirty girl…". You gasp as he spanks your rear, the smacking sound making you clench around him.

"Need you to move". You whine as you wriggle your hips. But John bends over you, burly frame forcing your upper body flush to the cool tabletop.

"Come on, love". He scolds huskily against the shell of your ear, warm breath cascading past your cheek. Parts of his hands grip your ass while the rest cover your hips, the meat spilling between his fingers. But he remains still, deep inside you, not moving until the proper phrase falls from your lips.

It's easier to give in this time, having been shoved over the edge previously, ignoring the immorality of using his rank in this setting and whatever pride left in your body. Mentally, at least.

Physically, it takes you a few seconds, preoccupied with basking in what's happening. Bent over the counter with the biting kiss from the cold stone dulled from the shirt you borrowed from John. Yet the harshness from the unmoving material doesn't fail to make itself reminded against your soft body despite the shielding material. Effortlessly sandwiching you is the similarly firm body of John, considerably warmer but still effective in immobilising you.

"Captain, please". His rank is honey, saccharine and dripping effortlessly from your tongue once you find your voice through the arousal. "Please move".

"Mm, that's it", he croons, granting you the movement you want as he straightens, not before kissing your clothed shoulder. Exegrated to make up for the fabric separating you.

It starts with calculated thrusts that make you keen and almost roll back and forth on your feet from the steady and slow pace. Then John picks up the speed, rutting against you with powerful snaps of his hips. Your fingers scramble, finding purchase on the counter's edge, curling over the side to have some semblance of grounding force.

It doesn't take long before you moan unabashedly at each stroke, fluttering around his cock as he works his length in and out of you, driving his hips forward and back in a steady beat. Along the erotic sound of skin slapping and wet noises is the filth spewing from his lips.

"This what you wanted, eh?" He gruffs. "With all those looks?" He gets a moan in response as you turn your head so your cheeks rest against the counter, watching him through the corner of your eye.

John's jaw hangs slack, hair falling along his forehead as he must be staring at where the two of you connect. He looks raptured, almost dazed. He said he wanted this as well and by the looks of it... yeah, he really did. You don't know how you haven't noticed. But, fortunately, John sets your knack of reading people to shame compared to his skill.

You're snapped out of your thoughts as one of his hands leaves your hips and you see him raise it at an angle. You whine, arching towards it as much as possible with the unbudging surface beneath you. It drags his eyes upwards, noticing how you're watching him.

His lips tug upwards, eyes never leaving you as his palm swats your ass. A reactionary moan spills from your lip as your legs press against the outer side of his thighs at the sensation, brows knitting together from the stinging pleasure.

It spurs John to rut harder, causing your body to fucking sing as your head gets steadily dizzier.

He releases a breathless chuckle at your inability to conjure anything apart from keening sounds and guttural moans as your body goes lax, eyes fluttering close, body jolting at the new pace he sets.

But he doesn't appear much more put together as he witnesses how you allow yourself to let go, giving the reins entirely to him.

You catch how John's sentence breaks into fractions, groans and heady sounds spilling from his lips between sentences to rile you up even further. In the end he can't release much more than growling sounds as he folds, resting his chest against your back, using his weight to forcefully push his hips against yours, making his balls tap against your clit each time.

John barely pulls himself back enough to push forwards again, but it's enough to repeatedly batter the head of his cock against the spot making your legs tingly and toes flex before curling.

Once again, your hands search for something to grasp upon the pleasure coursing through your body. One manages to bend backwards over your shoulder, catching the lapel of John's jumper, and the other slides feebly across the smooth countertop.

Your orgasm is building, breaths turning stunted, muscles seizing.

You feel John's rhythm stutter as you clench more frequently and reactionary in response to his ruts as you near your release. His head ducks to rest between your shoulder-blades, warm puffs of air seeping through the oversized shirt you're wearing. His teeth bite down on the excess fabric, grunts vibrating against you.

John's getting close, throbbing violently inside you, hands digging into your hips even further. When he angles his thrusts downwards, a dirty grind at the end of each penetration, he hits so many pleasurable spots that you release an unprompted cry.

You don't need much, so close to your edge that your head thrash that you wedge your hand beneath your forehead to not knock yourself out cold. So when John grits a heady sentence through his teeth and the fabric trapped between them, that's it.

"Come on, love, be a good girl to your Captain. Wanna feel you squeeze 'round me".

Your eyes snap close as you jerk against him, ass pressing upwards before involuntarily trying to escape his persistent thrusts as the pleasure explodes. But your hipbones are already aching from the counter and you can't flee how John continues to cram his girthy cock into your twitching hole, so you just let him extend your orgasm until he reaches his with a growl.

John curls around you, hips pressing snuggly against your rear as he spurts his release deep. You feel his warm spend inside you, releasing a shattered moan as your eyelids flutter but, in the end, remain closed.

The stone isn't as cold against your forehead anymore, the surface likely warming from your panting exhales.

John's chest rises and falls against your back. He massages your hips almost unconsciously, small flexes of his fingers. Your hand, previously fisting his jumper, falls to your left hip, squeezing his wrist before your fingers graze over his knuckles and card between digits, easing his grip. It seems to bring him out of his post-orgasmic rouse as he softens the action until he stills completely, now cradling the likely-to-be-discoloured area.

"Fuck", he exhales as he releases your shirt from his teeth. The wet spot where his saliva has sept into the fabric is significant as it falls back against your skin.

You reply with a soft confirming sound, craning your neck to glance at John.

His face has risen and is now close to yours. However, what catches you off-guard isn't the proximity but his gaze. It's dark and glittering, a spent smile noticeable through his facial hair.

He kisses you despite the awkward angle. The hair that's

fallen out of place and endearingly covers his forehead brushes yours.

The interaction is brief before he rises, bringing you with him from the forwards-bent position that's not as comfortable for either of you when the lust-driven haze fades. In the movement, John slips out of you before stepping back. Not soon after, he pulls your underwear into place.

The hem of his shirt drops around your thighs once you stand again and it doesn't catch on John's hand. You run a hand through your hair, letting it fall to the kitchen counters, noticing your balance is still wobbly. Your other hand assist your balance by resting on the kitchen counter as you take a moment to collect yourself.

You take a moment to collect yourself before you turn to face John with a sigh. He's just popped the button on his cargos back in place but doesn't care about tucking his t-shirt into the waistband of his pants again.

As John runs a hand through his hair, the other naturally falls to your hip to steady you as his gaze locks with yours.

"All good?" His voice is gritty, pleasure still intertwined with the soft check-in.

"Mm, yeah", you smile sluggishly, your voice breathy. "You?"

"All good. I wasn't too much?" There's a glimmer of concern in his eyes, one you shoo away immediately.

"No, god, you were not too much, John, you were... really good". You reach out to touch John, hands slipping between the layers of fabric on his torso. He melts under your touch, relaxing the arm that had raised so he could tame his hair, letting it curve around your neck. With the back of your head nestled perfectly in the crook of his arm, he tugs you closer to him.

"Didn't know you had such a thing for men in uniform, love". He chuckles, lightening the mood as he looks down at you.

"You in uniform".

"Compliments your take on a gallantry medal?"

"Mhm", you hum against his lips. "My Captain deserves them". You cheekily use the nickname you'd moaned shamelessly only minutes prior, making him huff an amused laugh that puffs against your mouth.

"Not gonna hear the end of that, eh?"

"At ease, soldier, I'm only gonna use it when I wanna get a rile out of you". You press a kiss against John's lips and he reciprocates it. In the end, a smile splits yours open, one you greet him with as you lean away, creating a bit of space between you. "But what would they think of that? Esteemed Captain Price with a captain kink". He pinches your rear, and you squeal, a sound that fades into a giggle as the hand previously on the counter settles on your hip.

"Watch it". The edges of John's eyes are still creased in the corners as he says it, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Just curious", you defend yourself with a shrug. "But I can't say I'm surprised you like the power-trip". You give the blue-eyed man a playful purse of your lips.

He cock his head, brows arching. "Why?"

"Being a good Captain must come from somewhere. You like ordering people around", you muse.

"Delighted to be your entertainment". John exhales through his nose.

You try to lean up to kiss his furrowed expression away, but by tightening his arm around your head and leaning backwards, he avoids your attempt.

"Don't be pouty. You seemed to enjoy it just as much as I did. Admitted you do". You chide John lightly and he drops the faux offence, delight and piked interest present in his eyes.

"Mm, 'bout that. Didn't know you liked bein' ordered around that much". You smile shyly, head notching forwards, not far from resting against his chest from your closeness.

"We all have our moments of something, don't we?" You look up at John through your lashes.

His arms slide down until his hand envelops your neck. A hum fills the air before he leans down, pressing his lips against yours briefly, soothing any possible apprehension in your answer framed as a question rather than a statement.

"Would you like me to do it more?" You crack into a smile at his question, eyes fluttering open to meet his blue eyes.

"Yeah, I would like to. I-I adore when you're sweet on me, John, but I also like when you're rough. Just, you know, take what you want sometimes, do as you please". You shrug, catching how John releases the air from his lungs in something akin to wonder and desire.

"You trust me enough?"

"If your men trust you on the field, I think I can trust you in this situation".

John lets out a long groan, head tipping backwards as his eyes shut tightly. "Don't bring the lads into this, don't want that association".

You chuckle in earnest. "What? You're their Captain first and foremost".

"Not this type", he huffs, head falling forward. Looking at you again, the hand on the side of your neck slides to your hip, both hands now anchored there.

"Alright, alright. Only want you to myself anyways". You lean up, planting a series of kisses against John's lips until he reciprocates, the frown disappearing from his brows.

"Already got me, love". His voice softens, making you smile in return.

Just as you're about to reply, the sensation of fluids flowing out of you makes you reactively twitch and clamp your legs together, hands flexing on his stomach. John notices, suppressing a smirk as he fishes your hands from beneath his jumper.

"Let's get you cleaned up." John enlaces his hand with one of yours, tugging you along as he heads towards your bathroom. "Still need to have that shower".

"You like seeing me wet, don't you?"

"Never said we would shower". John sends you a humoured look over his shoulder, making you roll your eyes. "Watch that attitude of yours. Things like that get you a lesson in discipline in the army".

"Because that would be my biggest problem and not sleeping with a Captain, who I much rather get disciplined by." You quip with an amused look.

"Careful with what you wish for, love". John returns, the reply accompanied by a wink. As you chuckle with a shake of your head, John pulls you forward and into his side, planting a kiss on the side of your head, effectively ending the conversation as you step into the bathroom.

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 3 months

Note

ok, sorry abt my last request i’ll be more specific

can you do ethan landry is best friends with readers brother? and they annoy eachother a lot?

and it ends it a smut pls :3

love your work sm!!

Hiiii! I hope you like it :)

Bad Idea Right? - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT- Minors DNI

Part 2

Summary: You hook up with your brother's irritating best friend.

A/N: If y'all want a part 2, let me know:)

You and your brother have a good sibling relationship, which you’re thankful for. The only issue you have is that his best friend, Ethan, is so incredibly annoying. They’ve been friends for the longest time, and they do everything together. When they both got into the same school, you weren’t surprised.

Ethan’s sort of became a part of the family. Your parents buy him Christmas presents; he comes on all the family vacations. It wasn’t a shocker when your brother wanted to come home to visit you for your birthday, that Ethan would be coming with him.

You’re the only one in your family that isn’t really close to him, which does feel weird from time to time. You’ll never forget the beach vacation when he chased you along the sand with a washed-up jellyfish, or when he was teasing you when you got your first crush, or when he went through a prank phase, and you were his target every single time.

As both boys arrived home to celebrate your birthday, you were excited to see them. Even though Ethan does annoy you, it’s been months since you’d seen them.

Your brother pulled you into a big hug as Ethan walked past you to say hello to your parents.

“Happy Birthday!” your brother said, you rolled your eyes.

“It was a month ago, dork,” you said, a playful tone in your voice.

“Sorry I couldn’t come home sooner. One of my classes this year has been brutal,” he said, as you nodded.

“Hi, Ethan!” you said sarcastically, as the curly-haired boy rolled his eyes when he faced you.

He looked like he was about to say something back, but he paused as he took in your appearance. You started to feel a little self-conscious, thinking you must’ve had a stain on your shirt or something, because he’s never looked at you like that. He’s usually just as annoyed with you as you are with him.

The next day, your brother told you he was throwing you a surprise birthday party.

“It’s not a surprise if you tell me, you know?” you said, “Plus it’s been a month. Why have a party now?”

“Because you only turn eighteen once,” he said, “And we always celebrate your birthday.”

“Okay, when is this surprise party for me, that I already know about?” you said with a giggle.

“That’s the part that’s surprising. It’s in 2 hours, you might want to get ready,” He laughed a little, looking at the sweatpants and big t-shirt you were wearing.

“Fuuuuck,” you whined, walking to the bathroom to jump in the shower.

After you got out of the shower, you stood on the mat reaching for your towel when the door opened.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” Ethan said, closing the door.

“Fuck,” you whispered, wrapping the towel around your body.

You’d gotten used to having your own bathroom while your brother was away, so you didn’t even think to lock the door. You started to get a little embarrassed, now that your brother’s best friend has seen you naked.

Once you dried off and put your robe on, you walked to your room to change.

As Ethan watched you walk out of the bathroom from your brother’s room across the hall, he couldn’t get the image of your naked, wet body out of his mind. ‘Why the fuck am I thinking about her like this?’ he thought to himself, his cock half-hard in his pants.

“I’m going to go get the cake. You want to set out the drinks and stuff?” your brother asked Ethan.

“Uh, yeah. I guess I can do that,” he said, even though the idea of him being left alone with you made him a little nervous.

“Cool, I’ll be back soon,” he said, grabbing his keys.

After you got dressed, you walked to the kitchen to get something to drink. Ethan was putting chips in bowls at the counter as you struggled to reach around him to get a glass. You brushed up against him, and he felt his breath hitch in his throat.

You got some water before sitting down at the kitchen table. You wanted to say something to him about the bathroom incident, but you were scared to make the situation even more awkward. As you sat there, you just had to say something.

“Hey, Ethan?” you said. He turned his head to look at you. “I’m sorry I forgot to lock the door. I know seeing me naked was probably the last thing you wanted.”

You watched him, waiting for a response. His face started to turn red, as you giggled to yourself.

“It’s..uh…it’s okay,” he said, directing his attention back to the chips.

While he was turning back around and you saw him from the side for a split second, you could see that he was hard in the sweatpants he was wearing. Your eyes went wide and you started to blush as you realized the effect you had on him.

“I’m going to go change,” he said, before walking out of the kitchen and to your brother’s room.

After your brother got back and all your friends started to arrive, Ethan was struggling to take his eyes off you. You noticed his gaze as you danced with your friends to the music, a smirk playing on your lips when he quickly looked away. You thought he was hot, but he annoyed you so much that you never realized it until recently.

You kept noticing his stares as the party went on, so when it was time for the cake, you decided to tease him a little bit. You swiped your finger through the icing, before putting the icing in your mouth. Your eyes connected with Ethan as you sucked it off, his bottom lip going in between his teeth at your actions.

After the cake, you went to the kitchen to get another drink. Ethan was leaning against the counter by himself as your brother shamelessly flirted with one of your friends in the living room.

“Hey, you might piss me off, but thank you for being here,” your voice was sweet as you spoke to him.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked, watching you sip your drink.

“What’s up?” you asked. He leaned closer to your ear so no one else could hear what he was saying to you.

“Are you intentionally trying to make me hard out there in front of everybody?” he asked, as his eyes scanned over your face. “I know you like to do things that embarrass me, so if you aren’t interested, please stop.”

You smiled at him, thinking back to all the things you’d done that were probably just as annoying as the stuff he’s done to you. But this was intentional. You wanted him to want you, and it’s obvious now that he does.

“Meet me in my room in five minutes,” you said, before walking away.

You scanned the living room to find your brother, still distracted from everything going on around him. You found your best friend, pulling her to the side.

“Hey, I’m going to disappear for a little bit. If anyone’s looking for me, tell them I’ll be right back, and text me immediately, okay?” you asked. The confused look on her face said you needed to explain more. “I’m about to hook up with Ethan. My brother can’t know, cover for me.”

She nodded, still confused at the situation.

You went up the stairs to your room to wait for Ethan. Your friend smirked to herself as she watched him scan the party for your brother, before heading upstairs not long after you.

“Lock it,” you said, as he walked in and shut the door.

“So demanding,” he laughed, as he locked the door.

You walked over to him and laced his fingers with yours as you led him back to your bed, pulling him down with you as you laid back. He looked in your eyes for a few seconds as he hovered over you, the sexual tension getting even stronger before he finally leaned down to kiss you. The second your lips touched, everything just felt right. Like this was what the two of you were supposed to be doing the whole time.

His hands started to roam under the fabric of your shirt, his fingertips grazed your stomach as you whimpered under his touch. As good as his teasing felt, you remembered that you didn’t have a lot of time to do what you came to your room to do.

“We need to be quick,” you gasped out, once his hand reached your breast.

"Right," he chucked to himself, before he slid your shirt up your body. You sat up a little so he could pull it over your head, and you reached behind yourself to unhook your bra to have one less thing in the way. “Fuck,” he whispered, taking in the sight in front of him.

He leaned forward to take one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it as he sucked before moving to the other side. Your breathing was getting heavier by the second, and feeling the way his tongue moved had you craving his mouth on you in other places.

He trailed kisses down your stomach, before he stopped at the top of your jeans. He looked up at you, silently asking for your consent before he went any further. You nodded at him before he smirked and unbuttoned your jeans, and slid those, along with your panties, down your legs in one motion. You took a deep breath once you were fully exposed to him, before he leaned in and started to place gentle licks to your clit.

"Fuck," you whispered, as you looked down to see Ethan's eyes on yours.

He started to swirl his tongue as he slid two fingers inside your soaked entrance with ease, your hips lifting off the bed as he rolled them against that spongy spot inside of you. You were trying so hard to be quiet, and even with the music downstairs, you were sure that if someone came upstairs, they'd know exactly what was going on. Strained whimpers were flooding out of your mouth as you struggled to hold them in, but Ethan was making you feel so good that it was impossible.

"Shit, Ethan," you rushed out, "This feels so good, but I need you to fuck me."

He pulled his mouth away from your clit before he mumbled "I wish I had more time to do this with you." He slid his fingers out, a whine slipping past your lips at the lost feeling as he unbuttoned his jeans and slid those, along with his boxers, down his hips.

"We need to be quick," you reminded him, once you felt the tip of his cock teasingly circling your clit.

"I know," he said, as he lined up with your entrance.

As he slid into you, a low moan flew out of your mouth.

“Shhh,” he said, his hips starting to move. “You need to be quiet, baby.”

You found it hard to do, the feeling of his cock stretching out your pussy feeling so good that you wanted him to know how much you loved it.

“Fuck,” you said, once you heard your phone vibrate on the bed beside you. Ethan kept going as you reached over to check it. “We need to hurry up. My brother was asking where I am.”

His thrusts sped up, until he started to pound into you. He angled your hips just right so your g-spot was getting the attention that it needed, and you couldn't hold in your moans. Once he reached down to circle your clit with his fingers, you cried out as that feeling built up so fast that your impending orgasm had your hands shaking as you gripped the sheets.

"That's it, baby. Cum for me."

Your legs were shaking on either side of his hips as that feeling washed over you, your bottom lip held in between your teeth so hard to attempt to not make the loud sounds that were threatening to escape. He was trying so hard to fuck you through it, but after he felt your pussy start to squeeze him, he knew he couldn't hold on any longer.

“Fuck,” he gasped, as he pulled out, releasing his hot cum on your stomach.

He took a minute to catch his breath as he tried to compose himself, but he couldn't stop looking at you. The way your blissed out eyes looked at him, the sweet smile on your lips, and seeing his cum on you was starting to make him hard again.

He finally tore his eyes away from you to grab some tissues out of the box on your nightstand, and cleaned you up before you both got up to quickly put your clothes back on. You could tell that he wanted to talk about what'd just happened, you did, too. But with the lack of time, you knew it would have to wait.

“I wish I could’ve taken my time with you,” he said, before you walked over to the door.

“There’s always next time,” you said, planting a kiss to his cheek.

You left your room first to join the party again. Your best friend came up to you once she saw you.

“So, how was it?” she asked.

“For a nerd, he sure knows what he’s doing,” you quietly joked, as he walked down the stairs.

“Dude, where were you?” your brother asked him, a blush rising to his cheeks at the question.

“Uh..I had to call my dad,” he lied, as your brother nodded at his response.

“Cool. I couldn’t find my sister either. I thought you two killed each other.”

#scream smut #scream #ethan landry #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader

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apocalypseornaw · 5 months

Text

Prove It (Pt 1/5)

Dean Winchester x Reader

A forgetten date, a broken heart. Can Dean fix what he broke and prove how much he loves you?

The sound of Dean's phone ringing felt like it echoed through your head. You groaned and buried your face in his chest, feeling the light rumble of his laughter underneath you. You listened as he answered the phone and best you could tell it was Garth on the other end asking for an assist.

Dean tapped your shoulder and when you looked up at him he motioned to the phone "It would be an overnight. Are you good with that?" You nodded already forming a plan to put the ideas that had been running through your head into action. If this hunt was an overnight that would put them getting home to the bunker the night of yours and Dean's sixth anniversary.

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

When Dean got off the phone he slid one finger under your chin to tilt your face up where he could place a kiss on your lips "You're being quiet and you have that face you make when you're planning something" you shrugged "Maybe I'm planning you a surprise for our anniversary"

A smile slipped onto his face before he pulled you on top of him. Once you were comfortably straddling him he reached up to gently cup the side of your face "Sweetheart you putting up with me for Six years is a surprise enough" You laughed then slapped his chest playfully "You're such a pain in the ass Dean!"

He rolled his hips up causing a gasp to leave your lips considering how sore you wore from him. His smile slipped into a smirk "You like when I'm a pain in other places" you shook your head then leaned down to place a quick kiss on his lips "You need to get dressed and update Sam"

He watched you crawl off of him before pouting "Fine, kick me out" You rolled your eyes and stood out of the bed grinning when Dean's eyes tracked your every movement.

Normally when the boys rolled out on a hunt you'd be in the impala right along with them so it was a little weird to be staying home but you knew for a fact Dean had never been given the opportunity of anything normal. Birthdays, holidays. He'd never had anyone celebrate him and that was what you intended to do.

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

You'd ended up tracking down a signed original pressing led zeppelin album for Dean. It had taken a four hour round trip drive to pick it up but you knew he'd love it.

The lack of noise in the bunker was making your ears ring so you ended up going to bed early. There was an apple pie already made in the fridge and waiting to be baked the following day along with a meal of all of Dean's favorites. Your plan was to have it still be nice and fresh when Dean got home.

You'd done everything that needed to be done around the bunker. Laundry was put away, weapons had gotten broke down and cleaned or sharpened. You'd even made some salt rounds.

You had one of Dean's mixed Playlists going as you pulled the pie out of the oven, sitting it aside so it could cool. Dinner of steak, potatoes and grilled veggies was already done as well.

You checked the time on your phone and felt a hit of nerves wash over you. They should've called by now. You decided to wrap the food up and stick it in the fridge, you could always warm it up when they got back.

-----------

Two hours passed before your phone rang. It wasn't Dean's number but Sam's. "Is he ok?" You asked in place of a hello and Sam laughed lightly "He's fine. I just wanted to let you know we stopped at a bar so we might be a little later"

You felt your heart drop. Your eyes flicked over to the table in the corner of the room you shared with Dean where the gift bag with his record and the covered pie sat. "He wanted to go to a bar?" You asked fighting back tears. Sam must have misread your reaction because he assured you "It's just for a beer Y/N. You know Dean only has eyes for you. We'll be home soon"

And yet he forgot your anniversary, that you were planning a surprise, that maybe you wanted him home.

You bit your tongue from so many words that wanted to fall out and instead bit back "I don't give a damn when he gets home" and hung up. You couldn't hold back the tears any longer. You barely registered the blanket falling off the bed when you stood up. You wouldn't be here when Dean got home.

---------

You'd been with Dean for six years, had been friends with him for longer. You did everything for him and Sam alike. You fought for them,bled for them hell you'd died for them. You always put everyone else first and had simply asked one damn night out of the man that was supposed to love you and that was too much to ask. If you were that much of a second thought why stick around?

@lacilou @suckitands33 @lyarr24 @decadentstrangernacho @nix-rose @irgendwas122 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @tas898

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #prove it mini series

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cakeboxie · 7 months

Text

Mark me as yours

Kinktober day no. 4

“Are you okay..?” “Yes- well… No, but I don’t want you to feel obligated to help me.”

Pairing: Dan Heng il/cis fem sub reader

CWs: inhuman genitals, breeding, tiny amount of hurt/comfort (but mostly fluff)

AN: Reader is explicitly referred to as a girl, and I reference afab anatomy more than once, PLEASE keep this in mind. For @starrry-angel

Kinktober masterlist

Prior to the whole affair on the Luofu Dan Heng often swung between not needing affection and clinging to you like his life depended on it. He explained it as him occasionally realizing that he no longer has to just cope with his loneliness since he began dating you.

Since his return though, he’s been considerably more distant. For the first week or so you wrote it off as him recovering from an extremely stressful event. But as the days passed by and he became more and more distant, you found yourself worrying more.

That’s what led you to your current position, standing in front of the door to the archives. You speak softly as you start to open the door.

“… Dan Heng?”

The door to the archives was locked, and the light was off. Which was strange in its own right, as much as Dan Heng preferred people avoid hanging around in the archives; he never locked the door.

“Looking for Dan Heng? I saw him run off to his room a while back, his horns were all glowy too. It was really weird.”

Caelus’ voice knocked you out of your thoughts, only to confuse you even further.

“I didn’t know he had a room?”

“March said she’s only seen him go in there once since she’s been on the express. If you hear from him let me know he’s ok. I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m mad at him? It’s the end of the hall on the 3rd train car.”

Caelus sighed and continued to wherever he was originally headed. It was hard not to sprint down the halls of the express as you made your way to his room. Worry for his well being seeping into you.

It was strange, listening to him pace around the room through the door. Its a noise you’d gotten accustomed to hearing late at night after he’d called you to his room hoping for company following one of many nightmares.

You raise your hand to knock, but before you can he locks it.

“Leave… please.”

The intended strength behind the words comes across more as a painful admittance then a command.

“Not until you tell me what’s going on, we don’t have to talk about it right now but… I just need to know that you’re okay.”

There’s an agonizingly long pause before you hear him sigh and unlock the door. Hesitating for a moment before pulling it open. He’s in his vidyadhara form, his tail flicking anxiously behind him as he watches you, his moments stiff.

“I’m… sorry.”

His voice is uncharacteristically shaky as he steps to the side, his room is barren of any identifying features. He hesitates after closing the door.

“Can I lock the door?”

You nod slowly and he does as he asked. Standing stock still in front of the now locked door, stepping back into it as you approach him slowly.

“Are you okay..?”

“Yes- well… No, but I don’t want you to feel obligated to help me.”

He tries to sink further into the wall as you step closer

“Please, Dan Heng. I just want to know what’s going on, I’m worried about you.”

He sighs and seems to look through you for a moment, before attempting to collect himself, though his voice continues its uneven tone.

“I’m a vidyadhara, you know that at this point… Despite not being physically able to reproduce we still have a… heat cycle. Mine is inconsistent because of my distance from the Luofu but…”

He squirms in place and looks away from you.

“My instincts are convinced you’re my mate, and with my heat cycle starting I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable...”

“What if I want to be your mate?”

He looks nothing short of appalled, and you watch a series of micro expressions flicker across his face in quick succession before he’s clinging to you. Mumbling an apology into your chest as he picks you up.

You feel his chest rumble as you return the hug, piecing together that he was purring as he set you gingerly on his bed. Situation himself between your legs as he looks at you for any signs of resistance once more. The corners of his mouth pulling into a small smile when there is none.

The weight of his tail wrapping itself around your waist is a comforting pressure as he nuzzles into your neck. Purring as he bites your shoulder gently. His sharp canines digging into the soft flesh just enough to leave a mark.

“I’m sorry for my impatience I… I’ve missed you and I…”

He hesitates and buries his face back into your neck for a moment.

“I need to feel you. I’ve been waiting so long to claim you as mine and now that you’re here I can’t wait anymore.”

He shudders and kisses you as his movements become less restrained, quickly pulling off your loose shirt along with his own. Every action drips with desperation as he pulls you impossibly closer.

“Can I touch you..?”

Your voice seems to pull him out of his haze and he leans back far enough for you to be able to admire him. His lithe frame speckled with small scales.

Pulling his underwear down you were met with an interesting sight.

You hadn’t thought very hard about the draconic features of the Vidyadhara, and in hindsight you kinda wish you had. Watching the pair of slick, semi translucent dicks slide out of the scaled slit on Dan Heng’s body as he squirmed under your gaze was certainly an interesting experience.

He didn’t give you long to think about it though as he gently pushed you back down onto the bed. Moving your underwear to the side enough to push his fingers past your slick folds. His thumb toying with your clit as he worked you open for him.

After he decided you were prepared enough he pulled his fingers out of you, licking your slick off of his fingers with his long, forked tongue. As you watched him clean his digits your brain provided you with the lovely image that was said tongue licking eagerly at your drooling slit.

All coherent thought was pushed from your brain as Dan Heng pressed the tip of one of his cocks against your eager hole, purring into your shoulder as he sunk into you inch by inch. His other cock bumping your clit as he bottomed out, his entire body tense above you as he waited for you to adjust.

He groaned into your chest as he began to move, mumbling into soft flesh as he rolled his hips against yours.

“I can’t wait to fuck you full of my kin, you’ll be good and take it right?”

Taglist: @yarnnerdally • @yeonpm

Wanna be added? Send me an ask off anon and lmk if you want to be on the sfw only list!

#pvbbysmut #pvbbywrites #dan heng #dan heng smut #honkai dan heng #imbibitor lunae #imbibitor lunae smut #pvbbyevents { kinktober 2023 }

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cluescorner · 1 year

Text

I have been unable to get the idea of baby Kaeya sneaking off to Sumeru without telling anyone out of my head

Baby Kaeya: I have successfully snuck into Sumeru in a merchant convoy. I may have left without saying goodbye, but I’m sure the Ragnvindrs will not mind. After all, surely they don’t see me as their actual family. They might raise a fuss and be in agony if Diluc were to disappear, but not for me.

Meanwhile......

Crepus, on his 8th bottle: How on earth have I managed to lose an entire child?? Did he get kidnapped? Did he run away? Is he alive? Is he safe? I’m going to have a breakdown holy shit. I have failed as a father. Elzer, have the knights gotten back about their search of the area? Or the private squad I hired?

Elzer: I’m afraid they have found nothing...but look on the bright side! At least we haven’t lost Diluc...

Adeline, literally physically restraining Diluc to stop him from running off to search for Kaeya: Yet. We have not lost Diluc YET.

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

Merchant guy: Hey, uh, guys?

Merchant lady: Yeah?

Merchant guy: Can somebody read this handwriting? I think whoever wrote this must have been in a hurry or something. And are those...tear stains?

Merchant lady: Sure...hm looks like the boss’s son is missing....

Merchant guy: Huh. Well we guarded the goods pretty well but let’s check just to make sure.

Merchant lady: *Opens up the goods to find Kaeya wedged between 2 crates* Oh we’re so fired.

Kaeya: In your defense, it’s only been a few days. One time I hid from...something for a week. And it was far more perceptive than you are, so you can hardly be blamed for missing me for only a few days. It was a fun challenge, but I was very hungry afterwards. By the way, do you have some water? I did not want to risk revealing myself, so I have not moved from this spot since we left.

Merchant guy: We’re not fired...we’re dead.

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

Crepus, sprinting to Sumeru: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

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Merchant guy: So...while we wait for your dad, why did you come here anyways? I’m sure we could do something fun.

Kaeya: Hmmm, no. You should not look into why I came here. That would be bad, for me and for you.

Merchant lady, whispering to merchant guy: Hey, um, what the fuck does that mean?

Merchant guy, whispering to merchant lady: The boss said his new kid was kinda odd, but this wasn’t what I was expecting.

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

Crepus: KAEYA! OH THANK GOODNESS YOU ARE OK!

Kaeya: Hello Master Crepus. I hope I didn’t cause too much-

Crepus: WHY ON TEYVAT WOULD YOU JUST RUN AWAY? DID YOU JUST WANT TO GO TO SUMERU TO SEE THE RAINFORESTS OR SOMETHING?

Kaeya: ...Sure. I read about it in a book and thought it looked cool. I wanted to see it, and so I left.

Crepus: *sigh* Kaeya, next time you want to take a vacation somewhere, please just tell us. You ARE grounded for a month since you broke a very big rule, but afterwards I’ll see about arranging a trip to Sumeru for us.

Kaeya: Crossing Teyvat to find me, grounding me, and arranging trips around my preferences? Why are you treating me so similarly to how you treat Diluc?

Crepus: Because you are both my sons. Why on earth would I treat you any differently?

Kaeya, forming the first healthy relationship with an adult in his entire life and realizing that he has grown attached to the very family he was left to spy on then eventually betray: Oh. This...I feel weird. Bad-weird and good-weird.

Crepus: Well, you probably feel weird because you were LODGED BETWEEN TWO CRATES FOR 4 DAYS STRAIGHT? You’re going to give me a heart attack one day, I swear. Now we’re going back to Mondstadt right now, and you’re grounded starting the day after we get back. I highly doubt Adelinde and Diluc will be able to restrain themselves from fawning over you, they’ve been a mess.

Kaeya, realizing that now only has he grown attached to his new family, but they have grown incredibly attached to him: Oh...oh no.

#genshin impact #kaeya #crepus ragnvindr #kaeya alberich #diluc ragnvindr #he is not technically a speaker but I think he is present enough to qualify a mention #adelinde #my beloved #elzer #IDK what his timeline is but I'm assuming he's working for the Ragnvindrs at this point #anyways #what if this was the moment when Kaeya realized just how much he loved his new family #and when he realized how much they loved him #bro Crepus PERSONALLY TRAVELED ALL THE WAY TO SUMERU TO GET KAEYA #I can only imagine that Diluc was trying to break out of the house on a daily basis to save Kaeya like a good knight would

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silverheartlugia2000 · 9 months

Text

can someone help me brainstorm the next bit?

Danny was tired. More than tired, exhausted. Danny was the kind of tired that was so deep it looped right back around to constantly giddy. He sat in his chair at the Justice League meeting with a smile on his face and a vacant stare. The others were kinda giving him weird or concerned looks while he sang Twinkle Stars in his head cause the window kept distracting him.

He should be paying attention to Hal who was talking, but his inner thoughts kept asking him if he could ask to go to Oa with the Green Lantern sometime cause, while he has been up around Earth’s space plenty of times now he’s rarely gone on trips off planet with anyone. Just because he’s wandered off during the trips once or twice they don't like bringing him unless they can rope him in the Fenton Fishing Line(™) that Jazz converted into what was basically a baby leash. He was almost 17! An adult! He didnt need no leash!!

Well except for when that happened…But he was better at it!! He couldn’t help it.. It just seemed to happen when he used up his powers a lot with no time to sleep or snack. Especially when he was still a new death, and it hardly ever happened anymore now that he was more experienced in managing his output! No one needed to know what his true core ghost form really looked like.. It just reflected how young he was as a ghost compared to everyone else he knew is all.

Heck Youngblood was almost 100 years dead. And while YB was still physically younger, he was still considered older than Danny! Apparently being a child ghost wasn’t quite the same as being the ghost OF a child. Eventually his core form should even out to reflect his death age in time..

Speaking of which he was hungry too, maybe when he gets home he could ask Mom for some of those Ecto cookies she hid away. She’s been putting them in the new ghost proof safe so Danny can't eat them all before dinner. They weren't nearly as good as Grampa’s but she has gotten better at not turning the food into ghosts, the hot dogs attack anything that even begins to twitch so that helps.

Wait, when was the last time he’d been home? There’d been an invasion going on the last week and the League was still scrambling with all the little things that happened because of that, looting, Lex trying to kill Superman while he’s tired, Joker’s jealousy popping up in a new attention grabbing scheme, more looting from low risk villains cause no one was around to stop them. Then the Big Three plus Flash getting pulled into another dimension temporarily.

Lucky Danny was able to track them down and get them back home, though he missed the Watchtower by a longshot and landed somewhere in Kansas.. Future Master of Space and he still had trouble getting his Gate open to begin with sometimes. Though since it was so late when they came back they got to meet Superman's parents and spend the night. They were very nice, the mac n cheese they had for dinner that night was really good..

Maybe he should go home today, he didn't feel the giddy kind of tired anymore. He felt the bad kind of tired that happened just before that happened, he needed to go home to his family, his Mom would be happy to give him all the hugs he needed and Dad would sneak him snacks and Jazz and Sam and Tuck would let him nap and play all he wants until he feels ok enough to be his human age again. Maybe he could even go bug Dan for a bit.

He hasn't taken his meds lately either now that he thinks about it.. His travel box emptied a few days ago and he hasn't had time to get more, that's one good thing about being in the JL though, their own medical care and they actually had meds that work on weird metabolisms like his. Getting his anxiety and insomnia back under control had been a godsend after the two years he went without cause the accident made them not work anymore.

Just as this plan was finalized in his head the red lights and noise that mean bad things happening flashed and Danny loudly keens, curling into himself. Everyone is rushing off except for Superman and Batman who look at him worriedly. Tears prick his eyes and hands cover his ears, Superman obviously recognizes sensory overload with how strong the man's own are and Batman has so many Robins around Danny very much doubts he can miss an over tired teen nearing his limit.

But they have a job to do so with a deep breath Danny pulls himself together and takes off towards whatever is happening before the Justice Dads can call him out on it.

The fight itself shouldn't have been that hard especially since there were only a couple of them sent, the problem was that it was against one of the rarer rogues, and a magic one at that. Gentleman Ghost, he thinks? Which is why Danny got pulled along, cause of the power set. The guy might call himself a ghost but he didn't listen to Danny. Danny was the King! Danny was used to ghosts not listening, but most of the time that was his circle of frenemies who had known him since he was a new death, they claimed special rights as the ones who practically taught him ghost culture. They were more like extended aunts, uncles and siblings at this point. Except Spectra. Fuck Spectra..

This guy was more interested in his own shit and pissed at the fact that Batman outsmarted him on something again, what he didn’t know. The older ghost didn't even give him a second look, sure Danny didn't like flaunting his title and he wasn't able to fully use the Crown’s power for a few more centuries yet when he’d grown into it ghost wise but he was tired and getting pissed off. Mr Victorian is playing keep away and Danny is the only one that can keep up with him while Batman has to dodge things like walls and cars and the occasional blast of magic.

Things went to shit when he got hit. The magic hurt, he was used to being hurt seeing as fighting was practically socializing for a ghost, but there was just enough of the underlying feeling of electricity that made him tumble that last inch over the edge.

He screamed.

It wasn’t a long one. Not nearly enough to get the full power in, a yelp of surprise more than a wail. But it was enough to blast the ghost unconscious and throw a few cars down the street, he was able to cut it off before he did more damage but it still felt bad that it happened.

He felt bad that Batman had to arrest the ghost on his own, borrowing his thermos and catching the geezer so they could dump him on Constantine later, while Danny sat on the ground where he crashed, curled into himself and trying not to cry too loud.

He felt more than saw, Batman coming back over to him and petting his hair softly, he was talking into the coms to someone but Danny didn’t care right now he just wanted to sleep. Danny flails for the hand that starts to retreat from its comfort. It comes back immediately and holds his and Danny is too tired to hold on anymore so he doesn't.

To say Batman is scared when Phantom gets hit is one thing. He’d seen the halfa take worse, it was the noise more than anything that scared him. He’d seen what Phantom’s Wail could do. And whatever had caused him to unleash it had to be bad. But he was glad the kid had enough awareness to cut it off immediately, his lessons on fine control with Canary were paying off. The fact that Phantom had shown clear signs of an incoming meltdown just half an hour before would have been enough to bench the kid from coming out at all if it wasn't for Constantine offering this mission instead. While the rest of the big hitters were busy with some kaiju-like monster that popped up on the other side of the world

Constantine had probably sensed Phantom’s exhaustion if the sudden diversion meant anything, cranky as the mage was to the rest of them, he had a soft spot for the kid, him and Marvel both. The two were as strong as any of the League, but they were still kids with way too much weight on their shoulders.

It almost didn’t work, Phantom kept insisting he was fine and could help, when John saddled up next to Batman and said something about an old artifact of magic power going up in a museum today, one that could be tempting for a particular rouge to steal if the talk he heard was anything to go by. Yes Batman had faced him alone before just fine but since the kid had a similar powerset, Phantom would be a big help on getting things done faster.

And that had been the turning point there. He has talked to Phantom’s sister before. She had told him at length when Danny first joined, his little tells and how to handle them. She and (Jason?Dick?) had been dating for a while at that point and Phantom had recently been recruited. It wasn’t unusual for Batman to feel threatened, between corporate sharks and kidnappers as Bruce to the endless supervillains as Batman. But it was rare that he felt the threats against him were justified, she wanted to protect her brother, and he’d be a hypocrite if he tried to argue that.

Phantom had a dual Obsession of Protection and Space, but Protection can be interpreted and sub divided in many ways, ghosts were possessive in general to what they saw as theirs and that's where the confusion was. Danny would Protect with all his might if there was danger yes, but specifically he preferred being Helpful more than anything. Even if it was only upgrading their equipment and defenses or even just flitting around fetching them things. It satisfied him either way.

Batman took a second to assess Phantom, swiping the thermos from his belt to contain the Gentleman Ghost. Really he should ask for one for himself, intangible villains were pains in the ass to contain..

He walks back to Phantom and runs fingers through his hair, fully set in Batdad mode, but unsure if the kid would tolerate anymore until he’s calmed back down.

“Oracle?”

“Here B.”

“Can you contact Nightingale? I’m bringing Phantom back to the tower, unable to tell if he’s physically hurt. But he’s clearly having a breakdown.”

“Like mind control, or RR up way past his no-sleep threshold?”

“I’m leaning towards the latter.” Batman does not sigh, cause that wouldn’t be a Batman thing to do. He does however move his hands away to secure the thermos and hit the remote control on the Batmobile, only for Phantom to whine and latch onto his wrist.

Batman quickly goes back to soothing the teen. Getting into a position to hoist him up when he was blinded by a bright light.

When Batman blinked the sparks out of his vision Phantom was no longer sprawled on the ground, instead Batman held a handful of black coils with a tuft of white.

(jazz when she gets to the tower) “Why did you let him go out if you knew he wasn’t ok?!”

“It was either let Constantine insist on chasing a literal phantom thief under my supervision, or let him fight a giant sea monster close to Korea.”

“....Ok fair..”

#dc x dp prompt #silverlugia's free prompts #little baby man #ancient of balance and space due to halfa and gateway combined with obsessions #gatekeeper danny #banshee danny #ghost king danny

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musings-ofthe-unamused · 7 months

Text

The Rules of Simon Riley (COD)

Pairing: Ghost x Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Panic attacks, some violence

A/N: Ok wow, y'all ate up the HCs. Good to know.

Simon "Ghost" Riley was a difficult man to deal with. Everyone knew this, and you weren't a stranger to it either. There were a set of unspoken rules to dealing with Ghost. But rules were meant to be broken, whether it was intentional or not. Besides, you were human. You made mistakes. And Ghost made you nervous. So obviously you had broken maybe one or two… or all of the rules.

Rule #1: Don't ask about the mask.

This rule was probably broken the most and without harm. It wasn't like you see a burly, beefy, mountain of a man walking around with a skull mask everyday. All day. At first you were too scared to say anything. You were a new recruit to Task Force 141 and you sure as hell didn't want to be here with all these bloodthirsty veterans.

Eventually, you had settled in. Gotten used to the antics, training, and eventual missions you were sent on. But you hadn't gotten used to Ghost. You sat in the mess hall, picking absentmindedly at your food as Ghost and Soap had a conversation. Ghost's tray sat untouched in front of him while Soap shoveled in heaping forkfuls into his mouth. You watched Ghost as he scoffed, his brown eyes piercing into Soap's blue ones.

"That's fucking stupid."

Soap shrugged his shoulders. "I don't make the rules."

"I do. And I say if you don't like tea, you're a traitor."

Conversations like this were normal. Ghost and Soap bickered over idiotic topics like siblings. Honestly, for a Lieutenant and a Sergeant, they sure acted mindless. Still, you didn't say anything. It was pretty entertaining in between killing people for a living. So you stared and listened. Mainly at Ghost.

"Oi." Ghost huffed, turning towards you. "You got a problem?"

You perked up. "Me? No. Why?"

"Because you're staring."

You pursed your lips and looked away. Of course you're staring. It was lunchtime and Ghost was just sitting there with food in front of him as if he was going to eat. But he never did. Unless looking at food filled him up, he was just wasting food. Not that you cared but it was just weird. He was weird for wearing a mask all the time. It made him look even more intimidating.

"Yeah."

Soap's face turned from playful to cautious. "Uh.. let's just get back to eating."

"Why do you not take off your mask while you eat?"

Ghost huffed, rolling his eyes. "Why the fuck is it your business?"

"I-I'm just curious."

"Then stop being curious. Mind your own damn business."

Ghost got up and took his tray, storming away. You didn't realize it was a sensitive subject. You slinked back in your seat and continued to pick at your food. Soap let out a sigh and moved to sit next to you. He patted your back, hard, causing you to wince.

"Don't worry about it, alright? Ghost… just has some things he's sensitive about."

You groaned and closed your eyes. "I was just curious."

"It's not your fault, kiddo. We've known each other for so long that we all know what to do and not do. You're new, so don't blame yourself."

"Any other rules I should know about?"

Soap gave you a smile. "Let me give you a rundown on Ghost."

It was about as you expected. Five main rules with little tidbits sprinkled in there. Ghost was what everyone thought someone in special forces was: mysterious and gruff. A hardened soldier that had no time for shit. No time for making friends or being happy. Of course, you couldn't blame him. You couldn't even imagine the things he's been through to become a practically emotionless man.

It was late at night. You were restless and needed to tire yourself out to be able to sleep. So you did what you always did: headed to the training room. You expected it to be empty. There weren't usually people up at this hour and normally everyone was asleep. Yet, as you walked into the training room, you saw someone using the bench. You couldn't exactly see his face but decided to speak.

"Looks like someone else can't… oh."

You trailed off as the man set the bar back and sat up. You hadn't seen this face before. You would have definitely remembered a face like his. Strong jawline, stubble, several tiny scars scattered across his face, and hardened brown eyes. His sandy brown hair fell over his sweaty forehead as he glared at you. It wasn't until he raised his tattooed arm to wipe his face that it registered who it was.

"Ghost?"

"Are you just gonna keep fucking stare at me?"

Your eyes immediately averted from his. Fuck, he was hot. He was so hot. Soap was right. You swallow thickly and walk over to Ghost, your head down. You didn't know what to do in this situation. So you just awkwardly held your water bottle without saying a word. He sighed and pushed it away.

"What are you doing here?"

You mumbled out, "I could ask you the same."

There was a silent warning.

"I couldn't sleep so I wanted to exercise to wear myself out."

The corner of Ghost's lips quirked up in a smirk. "I can help with that."

You felt your face heat up. Seeing his face for the first time, his smirk that you could've only imagined is when you knew you were fucked. Totally and completely.

Rule #2: Don't call him Simon.

Ok, so maybe you had gotten a little crush. It could be a farce. You only saw his face once, after all. Maybe you had gotten a good look (you had). There was no way you could fall for him with only one look at his face. Besides, you had to worry about the other rules and not breaking them.

You waltz into Ghost's office without a care in the world. "Hey, Simon. Can you help me with-"

"Stop."

You froze in your spot. Ah. Another rule Soap had mentioned. It completely left your mind. Everyone in the taskforce had their nicknames. You had a couple of your own, though they weren't as cool as some of the ones you've heard in passing. In fact, some of them made you feel small and weak. But you'd never admit that out loud.

And for some unlucky reason, you decided to not say Simon's… Ghost's. Maybe it was the fact that you and him spent more time together since that night in the training room. You had become somewhat of workout buddies. So maybe your brain had unconsciously thought that it was time to take the friendship to the next level.

"Uhm, Ghost, I need help with uh…" Your mind went blank. You can just tell from the way he towered over you with his arm crossed that he was not happy.

He stared down at you. "Don't call me Simon."

"I'm sorry."

"With this mask on, I'm Ghost. Don't make the same mistake. Do you understand me?"

You lowered your head like you were a scolded child. "Yes, LT."

He let out a sigh and ruffled your hair. "Alright. What do you need help with?"

Despite Ghost's initial annoyance with you, you had definitely grown on him. There was something refreshing about you. You weren't trigger happy, you paid attention during missions, and you never acted out of line. You were a good soldier. Not as strong as the others, but you worked hard. And Ghost appreciated that.

Over time, he had stopped correcting you whenever you accidentally called him Simon. He had stopped glaring at you and acting like you were a worthless rookie. You two had grown close. He might even say that you two were friends. But only if he didn't actually think about it. He'd never admit it otherwise.

"Simon!!"

There it was again. He groaned, and yet there was a flicker of light in his eyes. "Do you have to sound so… happy all the time?"

"Of course."

"God, you're annoying."

"So I'm growing on you?"

"Don't push it."

Rule #3: Don't touch him.

This one should have been obvious. And honestly, you didn't mean to touch him so suddenly. It was a mistake, but it was one that had big consequences. You two had grown closer and so he was much more comfortable around you, but not this comfortable. You were also comfortable enough to the point the rules had all but flown out of your head.

Ghost wasn't a bad guy. At least in the sense that he wasn't an asshole. Like everyone else in the military, he was tired of shit and didn't want to socialize. Understandable. It wasn't like you thought you could break down his walls. You weren't the type of person to go around with the need to "fix" people. You just so happened to get close to him and he just so happened to let you in little by little. And you didn't want to betray that.

Ghost's breathing was heavy as he pinned you against the wall. his forearm was pressed firmly against your throat, eyes wide and almost crazed looking. The mugs you were holding were shattered on the ground, coffee spilled everywhere. You just stared at him in shock.

"Don't ever fucking do that again."

That was walking up beside him and bumping your hips into his side. You had wanted to give him a cup of coffee because you knew it was going to be a long night of paperwork. But before you knew it, you were pinned against the wall. Your heart was practically in your stomach at this point. But all you could think about was how hostile his tone was.

Definitely not doing that again.

Rule #4: Don't ask about his past.

An easy to follow rule. Simple. It was something unsaid in the military. Everyone has their scars, both mental and physical. It's best that most of those are kept secret. The incident from two weeks ago was just an example of that. You didn't blame him. In fact, you ended up apologizing for not being more aware. And it fixed things. Kinda.

Being in the military sucked. Being in the special forces sucked even more. You had thought you were strong. I mean, you were working with one of the best teams in the world. That meant you were strong. And yet… your mind felt like it was breaking. You couldn't take it anymore. Everything you've witnessed, everything you had to do kept replaying in your mind over and over.

A storm raged outside. You curled up on the couch in the breakroom, a blanket wrapped securely around you. The power had gone out long ago and everyone decided to call it a night. You didn't want to be alone. Everything was so loud. The thunder, the rain, the wind. It filled your ears with an unbearable cacophony. Breathing became hard as you stared off into nothing. Images flitted across your brain, jarring and vivid. It won't stop. Why won't it stop?

"Hey. Look at me."

You were drawn out by a soft, deep voice. And when your eyes focus, you see Ghost kneeling in front of you. He had his balaclava pulled off, revealing his concerned gaze. You didn't know you had even been crying before you let out a sob and covered your face with your hands. Ghost was by your side in an instant. He grasped your wrists lightly and pulled them down.

"Look at me, alright? We're gonna take deep breaths."

You nodded and kept your eyes trained on him. In and out. In and out.

He gave you a rare smile. "There we go. Are you alright?"

Your voice got caught in your throat and you shook your head. "Everything is so… I can't stop thinking about-"

Simon's arm wrapped around your shoulder, bringing you closer to him. "I know. I know."

There was something so comforting about being in his arms. The way it felt like security. Like it was safe.You listened to his heart. Nothing else existed in this moment except for that sound. A steady thump, thump, thump. You closed your eyes and let out a shuddering breath.

"I know it's hard." He murmured.

"Have you ever had something happen to you and you just… can't forget it?"

For once, he didn't try to back away. He didn't scold you or get angry. He opened up. "Of course I have. There's some shit I've seen and I just wish I could erase it all."

You leaned into his arms. "How do you deal with it?"

"You don't. At first, you just gotta let it go… And run its course. Eventually, you'll grow numb to it."

"I don't want to be numb."

Ghost didn't respond. He just pulled you in closer. In that moment, something had changed between the two of you. He wasn't one for giving comfort. And yet he didn't hesitate to make sure you were ok. He didn't care that you had asked him about his past, no matter how vague. For once… he just let himself feel.

Rule #5: Don't try to get close to him.

Ghost watched as you sat angrily on the training floor mat. Your arms were crossed and you had a pout on your lips. Yes, you were acting like a child. But you were beyond annoyed at Ghost. For the past couple of weeks he had done nothing but berate you over and over. At first it was your uniform being too messy. Then it was being too slow. And now it was just not being good enough.

He had forced you to train every day. Even after missions. You loved working out with him as much as the next guy, but damn it. He was acting like a god damned drill sergeant in basic training. There was something wrong and your relationship with him went to friendship to something… bad. He just stared down at you and sighed.

"You done yet?"

"No, I'm not." You stood up. "I am doing perfectly fine. Do you have to nitpick everything?"

"Fine isn't good enough. You need to be perfect."

You let out a frustrated noise. "But why?! My performance during missions is good. No one is complaining, not even Captain Price!"

"Does it look like I give a shit?" Ghost took a step towards you, towering over you. "You're acting like a pathetic child."

"And you're acting like an overbearing asshole."

That was enough to make him snap. He grabbed your arm and dragged you out of the training room, away from prying eyes. You silently cursed yourself. You were really in for it now. He was gonna take you in his office and yell at you. And you did not feel like you were in the mood for a lecture. Once you arrived, he shoved you inside and slammed the door behind you.

"Apologize. Now."

"For what?"

"Insubordination and getting on my fucking nerves."

Your eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Seriously, LT?! I didn't do anything!"

"You have an attitude."

This was enough. You had enough. "I don't have a fucking attitude! I've been improving every single day but that's not good enough for you! I thought we had gotten close and become friends, but you just started acting like a hard ass! What did I do, huh?! Why am I such a fucking nuisance to you!?"

"Because!" Ghost walked forward until your back was against your desk. "You made me care for you! No matter how fucking annoying you were, you still somehow managed to squeeze your aggravating ass into my mind! Every time you overstepped, you apologized immediately and made sure not to do it again! You cared for me in ways no one would notice! You became a constant in my life and I'm scared I'll lose that. So yes, I'm a hardass! But only because I won't be able to stand it if you suddenly died!"

"I won't die!" You yelled, your hands gripping the edge of his desk. "Of course our work is dangerous, but I trust you and this team! And so what if you started to care for me?! Newsflash Simon, people care about each other! It's normal!"

"What did I fucking say about calling me that?!"

"You didn't seem to complain for the past couple of months, Simon."

"Shut the fuck up! You're so fucking annoying!"

"Make me!"

You had pushed down your feelings for Ghost and told yourself it would never happen. It would be stupid of you to think it would, right? And yet here he was, tugging down his balaclava and trapping you against the desk. His lips smashed against yours, drawing a pained gasp from you. And yet you pushed back with just as much force. Your arms wrapped around him as the kiss softened. His lips felt perfect around yours and he tasted of cherry gatorade. You drank him in, letting the feelings you had grown free.

The kiss seemed to last forever. It was like Ghost was hungry for your touch, for your love. Not that you complained. He had let you break one of the most important rules of all: Don't try to get close to him. Yet here you were, pressed against him and kissing him like he would disappear.

"You're such a fucking brat." He breathed against your lips.

You laughed slightly and pulled away. "And yet, you can't let me go."

"No, I can't." His hands moved to your waist and squeezed. "I don't want to let you go."

"I won't leave you, Simon Riley. I promise."

"Please don't break that promise."

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