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ellaa-writes · 7 months

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The Bëast Within

author note: Part 5! Ok this is the last part till I'm back in November. Will be gone from October 21st till November 18th. I'm getting married and then going on my honeymoon. So enjoy! I'll be working on other parts while I'm away. :) you can find the rest of the series here.

summary: Omegas are rare, in a world full of Alphas and Betas. Being a Omega was not only dangerous but they were highly sought after. After living your life has a Beta in disguise, you meet a scary Alpha, but not any normal alpha. But a gaint Apex Alpha who won't stop at anything to make you his.

tags: Alternative Universe, female reader. Slight smut. Reader edges König into an apology. Slightly submissive König (but don't tell him that.) A/b/o dynamics. Alpha König is big and scary but not to reader. not proof read

König showed his love through acts of kindness and gifts. He felt bad for smashing your phone, and also as you put it "ruined your life". But he knows your just being dramatic, he spent two full days sleeping in one of the spare bedrooms. You didn't leave the master bedroom, only opening the door after König pleaded with you to eat something.

That's why he's currently inside a jewelry store, trying to pick out a gift that says I'm very sorry but I also don't regret doing what I did. The sales person becoming annoyed cause he can not make up his mind so decided to buy all 3, a matching set.

The second day barricaded in the room, you spent most of the time crying in your nest and enjoying the deep soaker tub. König brought you lunch, and also your new phone.

Discarding the food on the dresser you laid in the nest, setting up your phone. Waiting for the thousands of notifications to pop up.

You immediately called Kalina, you missed her voice and knew she's probably in a panic. The phone only rang once before it was picked up. "Please tell me you're alive." you heard her panicked voice on the other line.

"I'm alive." you replied back. "What the fuck is going on?" she all but screamed your name. "It's a complicated story." you tried to explain but she cut you off. "Are you safe, do you need me to call the police? Maybe the military? Who do I need to kill." she was rambling so fast you could barely make out what she was saying.

"Kalina! Hey Kalina! Calm down will you. I'm fine. I'm alright. I don't need any of that." you were finally able to but in. "I went to your apartment and you were gone, like all of it." she explained. Remembering König's actions, rubbing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose. "Ugh I know." you didn't know where to start. "It's been a week! A week of no call, no show, no nothing. And Mr. Wojack said you quit? What the hell is going on?" her voice getting higher and higher with each word.

"If you'd shut up I'll explain. It started that night at the club." you started. "We should have never gone." Kalina but in. "Kalina! Please!" you pleaded with her to shut up. "Sorry, sorry!" shaking your head. "Their was a guy there, an Alpha. I guess he sniffed me out, idk how the hell he knew but he followed me home. I woke up to him in my room, and..... and he marked me. That night, and I've been at his place ever since. He helped me through my heat....I think we are mated now." you explained.

The other end was finally quiet, thinking the call dropped until you heard Kalina'a deep sigh." I knew, I knew he would try. I just hoped I got you out of there fast enough." she said, you were confused? She knew? "What do you mean you knew?" you asked. "Don't you remember me pulling you out of the club? Throwing you in that cab?" she asked. It took you a while to thinking back in it, and then I made sense.

She saw him too, just like you did. "You saw him?" you whispered. "It was hard not to." her voice trailing off. You heard a knock on the door, probably König again. "Kalina I gotta go. I call you back later." you told her. Hanging up before she could protest. Leaving your phone on the charger near the bed.

Walking to the door you could see König's shadow underneath. Another knock came "Omega, please let me see you." he pleaded through the wood. If he really wanted to he could break it down, and he was tempted. Since getting a taste of your omega pussy it's all his dick and brain could think about.

"Why should I? So you can lie to me again." you were being a brat but you deserved it. In less than a week you had your home, job and life taken from you. But you also knew your situation could be much worse.

König sighed, he was going to lose his mind if you kept up this act. He had every right mind to knock this door down and make you forgive him. Even when he didn't believe he needed to be forgiven. In the law he had every right to do what he did. Once an omega is claimed she loses all her freedoms and rights. As she now belongs to her Alpha who is responsible in taking care of her. And if he's unfit of that, then the courts step in and interviene. But you were an undocumented Omega and he was a dead excommunicated Alpha.

Slamming his fist against the thick wood, he rolled his neck to try and relieve the tension that's been bothering him. "Please my love, I got you something." in König's other hand held the name brand bag of the jeweler he visited.

Unbeknownst to him, you had been scheming. Spending your time locked in this room, snooping around. Taking out his military uniform and laying it out on the bed. Also finding a few medals that where also stashed away in the closet.

"I'll let you in if you answer some of my questions." Königs ears perked up, what was this? A terrorist negotiation? But the thought of being in your presence, he didn't care. "Whatever you want Omega." his words making you laugh, of course you'll give me what I want, you thought.

König heard the door click, you unlocking the bolt that secured it close. Opening it a bit before stepping away to sit on the bed next to your findings.

König wasted no time in barging right in, about to open his mouth but closing it immediately when he saw his uniform next to you. "What is this?"he asked. His voice getting deep and low, his instincts heightening. He wasn't an animal you wanted to corner and confront but that's exactly what you did.

"That's my question. And I don't want to hear anything from you that isn't a one word answer or anything that's not the truth. You understand?" you fingers ran along the delicate stitching, tracing it slowly. König didn't like any of this.

"If you aren't going to answer me, you can just leave. And take that with you." you pointed to the bag he was holding. He sighed, setting the bag down on the dresser. Leaning against it, he was feared far and wide. The stories men told about him, yet here you are. Standing up to him, and not backing down. The Beast was proud, laughing loudly in König's head. Mocking him for not being able to control you. But that's not what he wanted, he didn't want to control you he just wanted to make you happy. And right now you were not and it was his fault.

Slowly you were wearing him down, his dick hard and throbbing in his pants. Begging and pleading with him to do whatever you wanted just so it can feel you wrapped around it again.

"I served in the Austrian Special Forces, but things came up and now I'm here." hoping his answer sated you. He crossed his arms staring at you, dragging his eyes up and down your body. "Why did you leave?" you asked. Curious about the Alpha in front of you, his aura was dark and mysterious. "It no longer served a purpose in my life. I... uh I do different work now. Similar but different. That's all you need to know." König was trying his best to answer you but to also keep you safe from his world.

You sighed "König you said you'd tell me anything I wanted." you eyed the giant Alpha in front of you. The sight of him alone making you want to heel over and crawl to him. But it was just your horny omega brain. "I am Omega, there's things you wouldn't understand. I'll do anything to keep you safe." König was growing more frustrated. Pushing himself off of the dresser and making his way to you. Getting down on his knees and placing his head in your lap.

"I'm trying to keep you safe and protected. Don't you understand." he looked up into your eyes. His eyes pleading with you, his bottom lip sticking out. "Than say your sorry." you told him. Lightly brushing your hand through his hair. You slightly started to part you thighs, revealing a silky pair of panties under the dress you were wearing.

Königs ears began to ring, his mouth becoming wet with anticipation. If he was a youngling he'd might even start foaming. The smell of your wet Omega pussy hit his nose, a low growl starting deep in his belly. He tried to push your dress up more but was received with a smack. Knocking his prying hands away, he hated when you did that.

Nobody he knew would dare raise a finger at him and since knowing you, that seemed like your favourite thing to do.

"No." you scolded him like a juvenile pup. "Not until you say you are sorry." he heard your words but his mind and eyes couldn't leave the sight of your pussy. The fabric of the silky panties hugged you lips, a small wet spot slowly forming. König knew from that moment on you were going to be the death of him.

Only if one of his men could see him, if one of the many people he's snuffed out could look upon him from hell. To see this feared Alpha on his knees, drooling at the sight of sweet omega pussy. They would laugh, they would mock him. Just like The Beast was doing now, his laughter louder than anything.

König licked his lips and closed his eyes. Taking a moment to clear his mind, too shut up The Beast and to try and not cum in his pants.

"Omega, I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I'll never do anything and I mean anything without your approval." he was a starved man, if you told him to walk into fire he would. "Omega I promise to serve and worship you till the end of mine time." he didn't know what else he could say.

You smiled, your eyes turning bright at the words your Alpha was saying. Your heart skipped a beat and your pussy gushed with more fluid. Pushing up your dress a little and tilting your pelvis till it was in König's face.

"I forgive you." you said. You hands tangling themselves in his hair once again. König mouth attached its self to your clothed pussy. Sucking on the wet spot, trying to ripping through the material with his teeth.

Trying once again to touch you with his hands but only stopped when you smacked them again. He really hated that. "No, just your mouth. And be a good boy and I'll let you fuck me." you told him. Spreading you legs open even more, resting you left leg over his shoulder.

Yes, you were going to kill him. But he didn't care, as long as he died by your pussy he didn't care at all.

Tag list: @plumdreadful @traumaramacenter @kaylp-godly @napalmfairy7 @hisa-plush @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @winters-doll @joyfulfxckery @purebeskar @collete25 @fandomsinthegalaxies @xo-konigs-little-princess-xo @jamieelol @luc1ddreamersatnight @cringeycookies (Tumblr won't let me tag some of you.)

#cod mw2 #könig #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig cod #konig x reader #konig x you #könig x reader #könig x you #könig x fem reader #könig x female reader #konig x female reader #a/b/o dynamics #konig x fem reader #alpha könig

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the-goddess-of-mischief-writing · 7 months

Note

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.

635 notes · View notes

gloomyluvr · 9 months

Text

GOODNIGHT N GO

in which miles unexpectedly sleeps over

fem!reader x e-42! miles morales

fluff / kinda angst??

warnings!: none

a/n: hiii ! i promised a post. and even tho it's a week or two late, it's here!! i loved this one btw. heavily inspired by ari's song. it's one of my faves. this took me forever cuz i had so many ideas and versions of it and i couldnt decide which route i wanted to go with it. idk hope y'all like it ig. oh and miles is ooc cuz like... idk how he is.

masterlist

“im sorry for coming over last minute.” it was almost midnight when miles had called you asking for a place to stay the night. you were the only person he knew who lived around this unfamiliar area.

“no, it’s alright. don’t worry.” you looked down at the floor, avoiding miles’ gaze. admittedly, you were nervous. it was your first time seeing miles after your breakup. which didn’t go all too well, but it’s in the past now.

“if you’re not comfortable with me staying here, i get it. i’ll find some other place.” miles had noticed your uneasy manner.

“no! it’s fine! it’s late and i don’t want you out there by yourself” you finally looked up at him, “what are you doing here anyways?”

“oh uhm, there’s this like robotics competition around here, good prize money y’know?” miles hesitated.

you knew miles better than anyone, you know when he’s lying. he’s making it so painfully obvious that he’s lying. he was probably here for prowler business. but, it wasn’t your place to worry anymore.

“oh, sounds fun.”

“your mom won't mind?”

“what?”

“your mom wont mind that i'm staying the night?”

“oh uhm, probably not. she’s at her boyfriends house so…” you shrugged

“oh.”

miles stood stiffly in front of you waiting for anything to happen. and you stood, well, also stiffly looking around your living room. god, this was so fucking awkward.

“um well, you can set your bag in my room and i’ll get you some old clothes of yours that i… still have.” you admitted, very very embarrassingly. miles slightly smiled, amused by your behavior.

you led the way to your room, and miles trailed behind you. as he was walking, he looked around the apartment he once knew so well. he took notice of anything new, whether it was recent photos in frames or decorations your mother put up to match the season.

once in your room, miles gently set his bag next to your bed. he observed you as you got clothes from your drawer. you were dressed in some graphic tee and christmas pajama pants. which miles so happened to have an exact pair of (maybe because you insisted on matching for the holidays and well, who was miles to deny you?)

“here you go.”

“thanks.” miles took the clothes from your hands and walked to the bathroom.

you let out a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding in. why were you so nervous? a couple months ago you guys could act freely around each other and now you guys can barely even make eye contact. there was no denying that you missed miles. you missed the calls that would last for hours. you missed laying together in bed. you missed his laugh. you missed everything and anything about miles.

you weren’t expecting his call at all. he was the one who decided on no contact after all. and if you were being honest you were mad that he had the balls to ask to spend the night after not talking to you for months. but you didn’t have it in you to say no to miles.

when miles came back, you were lying on a makeshift bed on the floor scrolling through your phone. it couldn’t have been comfortable.

“you’re not sleeping on that.” miles immediately advised you. you looked up from your phone with a grin.

“oh i know. you’re sleeping that.” you got up from the floor and climbed on top of your bed. miles watched your antics with a hand on his hips. you looked at him and he rolled his eyes.

“well at least i was tryna be a gentleman.” he huffed as he laid down on the floor. you rolled over to the edge of your bed to look at miles who was getting comfy on the floor (which was surprisingly comfortable.)

you wanted him to say something. anything. ask how you’ve been, what you’ve been up to. you wanted to talk to him, tell him the latest drama from your school. anything that would break this god-awful silence. but, nothing ever came. it was late, and if he wasn’t gonna try anything, neither were you.

you looked at miles’ face, admiring your favorite features of his. he quickly took notice and looked back at you. miles smiled nervously, hoping you wouldn’t notice how his cheeks turned red because of your gaze. fortunately for him, you were as giddy as him, if not more. your cheeks also blushed up and you just couldn’t handle it.

“stop looking at me like that!” you cried before hiding your face in your covers.

“what! ¿qué hice?” miles chuckled, throwing his hands in the air in defense.

“you know what you did!” you insisted with your face still buried in your covers.

“ ‘m sorry i can’t help it.” he whispered. you shifted to your lay on your side, facing miles.

“miles you can’t say that.” you whispered back.

“why not?”

“miles…”

“i know, i’m sorry.” miles mumbled.

and once again, silence filled the room. you could hear miles’ soft breaths and you were sure he could hear yours.

“k pues, goodnight.”

“goodnight, y/n/n.”

15 or so minutes had passed and you still couldn’t sleep. you were tossing and turning on your bed. why couldn’t you sleep? is it because it’s so cold even though it’s august? or was it the fact that your ex was sleeping on your bedroom floor? probably the first one. you shivered, trying to find some warmth within your blankets. why was it so fucking cold? you sigh, there was only one way you were gonna be able to sleep tonight.

“miles?”

“hm?”

“you awake?”

“yeah, can’t sleep. why?” miles waited for a response but all he heard was shuffling. then, he saw you standing over him with your pillow and an extra blanket.

“can i sleep with you?” miles nearly jumped at the offer. how could he ever reject you?

“yeah of course.” miles made space for you on the ground and you quickly set your pillow down next to his. you got under the same covers as him with the extra you brought being quickly discarded.

it wasn’t until you were fully settled in that you realized your position. your face was merely inches away from miles’. though it didn’t bother you like you thought it would and miles didn’t seem bothered either. in habit, you rested one of your legs over miles’. instinctively miles wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you in closer to him. you brought your hand up to caress miles’ cheek. you closed your eyes as miles rubbed circles on your waist with his thumb.

you missed this. so did miles. but as long as he was the prowler, he couldn’t be with you. despite how much he wanted to.

#across the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #miles morales imagine #miles morales x y/n #atsv #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles fluff #hobie brown x reader #earth-42 miles morales #miguel o’hara x reader

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luvyeni · 1 year

Note

OMG i can’t stop thinking about it

So it’s like Changbin or Lee know (idk you can choose) and like you’ve been so rude to him so he wants to punish you and you’re getting so excited about it that you become even ruder and at some moment he just stop and says "remember where you belong, if i wanted i could leave you horny like a dog for weeks" and then you don’t believe him and decide to just play with him but that made him so mad that he actually left you horny like that for some days. And during these days you were begging for him to fuck you but he just said no until one day he decide that it’s finally the time to give you your lesson

Ik it’s probably weird but dw y/n and leeknow/Changbin are totally okay with that and they gave each other consent

you're gonna be shocked , but this screams changbin vibes , bare with me.

i know y'all have seen that video , of him gripping seungmins neck , whispering in his ear. so imagine him doing that do you when you step out of line.

he know's you're doing this on purpose, to get a rise out of him , being rude , yelling and cursing at him , and he just sighs before grabbing the side of your neck , pulling you close to him , gritting in your ear , "keep this shit up and watch , remember i could you're the one who can't go a week without being fucked." letting you go.

you don't believe him , thinking he would never do that to himself , so you keep up the act , even going as far as to push him out the way when he tries to stop you again , that pisses him off. "if that's how you want to fucking play."

he is true to his word , he doesn't give you an ounce of attention , you quickly learn that he was right , you weren't as strong, since you were practically crying , begging him to fuck you. "please changbin , i need you so much." he just walks past you , "too bad."

when the week is finally up , he decides it's time to really punishing you , slapping your aching pussy , you sob in pain and pleasure. "pl..please fuck me ,please." "take what i give you slut , you don't deserve anything , and maybe i won't, maybe i'll just use your body for my own pleasure , leave you a horny mess for another week."

he continues his assault on your poor cunt , slamming into you with out any warnings , slapping your clit as he roughly fucks you. "look at you in tears , you were being such a brat , you swore you could last , now look at you , humping my cock like a bitch in heat."

when you cum , he keeps fucking into you. "w..wait , too much!" he ignores you , pinning your arms above your head , wrapping his other hand around your neck , squeezing.

"you wanted to cum so bad , now you're gonna keep cumming until i tell you to stop."

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sturn-wrld · 4 months

Text

🪼one bed

pairing: matt x reader

summary: where reader has a crush on matt but doesn't know he likes her as well

genre: SMUT!!! if that makes you uncomfortable dni!

warnings: unprotected p in v (don't be silly, wrap the willy), nicknames

a/n: day 5 of smutmas. idk how to feel about this one.

masterlist

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

you and matt had known each other for as long as you remember. there hadn't been a day you didn't see him. but you also don't remember a day where you didn't think of him and his dreamy eyes, beautiful smile and gorgeous hair. despite the strong feelings you feel about him constantly you had never told him. even after you moved in with him and his brothers in la, you still didn't tell him.

it had been 5 months since you moved in with the triplets and you all needed a well deserved vacation. so you are now sat in the airport waiting for your flight to the bahamas to board and take off.

having arranged the seats months prior you had forgotten you and matt offered to sit next to each other and wondered how you would survive through the whole flight next to him.

somehow you were able to make it through the flight without total embarrassment or combusting from matt obviously looking at you or talking lowly to you and now you are in the beautiful country of the bahamas. in the same sense you had organised with the group to sit next to matt on the plane you were going to share rooms as well.

as you and matt reached the biggest room in the airbnb you open the door to there being one bed. you immediately look at each other, figuring out the solution in your heads.

"i thought there would be more than one bed"

"me too. i can sleep on the couch if that makes you comfortable"

"no no. if anyone should i will but if your cool with sleeping in the same bed as me i am"

"sure we've done it before on accident, it won't be any different"

"yeah"

as matt and i made ourselves comfortable in our new bedroom for the week, we became hungry. apparently along with matt and nick. as the four of you sat downstairs eating the food you had just ordered nick mapped out the next week of fun activities that started today, probably your favourite day of the week, relaxing all day. your choice was in the pool.

after a long day of fun in the pool it finally came time to shower and get ready for bed. while you stood in yours and matt's shared shower you thought back on some of the moments that happened throughout the day. one stuck out in particular, matt had placed his hand around you and called you baby when you were having a conversation with nick.

"hey baby, what are you two talking about over here?" matt said placing his arm lowly on your hip looking between you and nick.

"n-nothing" you stuttered looking from his hand to his face. in all honesty you were talking about how you needed to tell matt that you liked him, which is a little weird as nick was his brother but you were friends with nick first.

as you now stand out of the shower wondering what he meant by this very meaningless phrase that many people use, you considered asking him about the interaction but decided to save it for the awkward chats you would have while trying to fall asleep tonight.

as you slowly slipped under the covers next to matt, you dazed over at his lowly lit facial features, being barely lit by the light of his dull phone. you continued to lay there in silence until he placed his phone down on his bedside table, laying down next to you.

"how did you like the day?" he asked turned m his side facing you

"good, i mean we didn't do much all day and the pool is pretty good" you struggled to continue to look into his soft eyes as he listened to every word you said intently, holding back what you actually wanted to talk about.

"anything else?" he said as he moved a strand of your hair from your face.

"uh, i mean yeah, earlier when you come over to me and was wrapped around me did that mean anything to you?"

"of course it did beautiful. i don't know how it took you so long to realise that there was more to this." he said ponting between the two of you

"i mean you weren't that obvious until today but i would like to think i was pretty obvious" you said with a yawn attached to the end.

"yeah, we'll talk about this more in the morning after you've rested" matt finished the conversation pulling you into a cozy cuddle.

as you started to fall asleep you subconsciously snuggled your body into his rubbing your side up against his groin earning a groan from matt. after this the small wriggles became anything but subconscious. suddenly matt grabbed your hips to position you still.

"are you okay there baby?"

"yeah i'm perfectly fine, are you?"

"not if you keep moving"

"why's that?" you asked obliviously knowing exactly why

"do you want to know now because i know you are going to keep moving"

"yes please"

with that matt started slowly removing both of our bottoms while kissing the back of your neck and shoulders. you kept grinding back on his now hard cock wanting more friction.

"hold on darling, be patient"

this sentence was nothing but absolute joy for your ears to hear. almost seconds later he gotten on his knees, flipping your body onto your stomach and pulled your ass up to his now hard dick.

"come on baby, stop teasing" you whined almost moaning it

that was the tipping point, he rammed his cock so hard into your hole causing a loud moan to escape your lips. matt instantly putting his hand over your mouth.

"do you want everyone to hear? didn't think so, be quiet"

the way he said it was heavenly. once you had started to fuck yourself on his cock he held your hips and started fucking you at an animalistic pace.

"oh fuck beautiful your so tight" he said leaning forward, kissing the back of your neck

you only moaned quietly in response as he had reached a depth that seemed impossible. suddenly he started rubbing your clit at a similar animalistic pace causing you to reach the edge.

"i'm so close matt, keep going"

"hold it until i say gorgeous"

after a few more rough slams against me i couldn't hold it anymore and neither could matt.

"cum now princess"

he came inside of me before slowly continuing to calm us from how highs. he pulled out and pulled me into his arms.

"i'm kind of glad there was only one bed now"

taglist

@ermdontmindthisaccount @its-jennarose @ilovemattsturn

#strniolosworld #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut

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roxtron · 2 months

Text

Day 5: Rabbit, Reclaim

AGJGDFJF FINALLY IT'S DAY 5 SO I CAN POST THIS

For some reason everytime i draw him he looks so young because i'm accidentally overcorrecting since i'm used to drawing older characters. So unfortunately he looks way younger than i meant him to lol, whoops.

But wait there's more- AHAHAHA

While I did initially plan this for GGY week I eventually got the idea to use this as an excuse to draw other GGY designs, soo..

(Not sure why tumblr formatted it that way with 1 of them big but it doesn't matter lol)

I've been wanting to do this for a while, I put the tags of each person next to their design but ofc I'm still gonna tag them in the post itself so you can see their art for yourself if you haven't already. But I enjoyed each of these in their own ways so if you don't mind I think I'm gonna type a bit of text next to them..

@chipistrate This was one of the first I drew out of these, the design was pretty fun to draw but sorry if I messed up a few details, it was a bit difficult lol. The mask and goggles are really fun to draw and they make for a cool design, along with all the glowing blue. (and yes, I tried to subtly include the heelies lol)

@lunzi0 This was the first fursuit one I did lol. I adore the little stars in the design, they personalize it so well and make it really unique. I wanna try this design again since I feel like the other ones show my improvement a bit better, but I hope you can appreciate the effort I put in on my first attempt <3

@carouselrabbit This one was really fun to draw, I absolutely love the eye shape/lashes, it stands out and I always love drawing eyes with a bit of eyeliner lol, the daycare theme legwarmers is a cool nod to the balloon boy arcade machine being connected to them, and was just a fun addition in general lol, I like the style of legwarmers what can I say, fnaf changed my fashion sense a bit. also the subtle paraells to freddy's design is a nice way to connect a bit to gregory himself.

@puhpandas I can't remember if I talked about this design last time I drew it but, overall I'm really happy with how this came out, it's such an indicator of improvement since I started drawing this and I'm glad I was able to draw it better than last time lol. All the patchwork and similarities to Vanny's suit work really well, and the rabbit you chose to base it off of was a good fit, the colors make it a bit more difficult to shade for but i like detail lol, hope you like it too :)

@dykevanny I knew I wanted to do this since I started but I wasn't sure if I'd have time, and I'm glad I did! I hope you don't mind I combined aspects from the first design I saw and the second one you replied to my ask with, I liked the big purple sleeves lol. (I just realized after doing all the shading I forgot to include the oil splatter on his jacket, sorry!) It was definitely a bit difficult due to the head shape being so different but.. fluffy. i love drawing fluff. And the glowing swirl on the goggles, the shape of the ears, I love a lot about this design. :D

I have a hard time with writing compliments but I wanted to get some of those thoughts out, some of the things I like about these designs apply to multiple lol. I adore every one of these designs but I find it hard to put into words what I enjoy about them, hope the original creators are happy with these. <3

I also kept the ggys without as much lighting effects on a separate file, I felt like I should add them since they're a bit brighter lol, makes them look different.

Okay now that I've gotten all that- Sorry this post is so long! I didn't think it'd end up taking up so much space lol. Buut.. working on this drawing and thinking about it and potential context behind it gave me an au idea for it, but I'll put it under the cut since I understand most people probably won't care and just wanna see the drawings lol.

Idk if I'm confident enough to write for it but I'll give a bit of a summary.. I'll keep it under the cut for people who aren't interested and just wanna see the art though lol.

After the main events of SB and Ruin, now that the mimic's been set free, Cassie's taken control of by what's left of Vanny, using her as a new host. But with Cassie being the only human left alive down there, after being reawakened, Dr. Rabbit has nowhere left to go but back to his old host.

Vanessa, Freddy, and Gregory hadn't gone back to the Pizzaplex after ruin, but they were trying to figure out a plan to get Cassie back safely. One night after Freddy and Gregory disappear, Vanessa leaves to go find them. As dangerous as the pizzaplex is, it's her best guess for where they might've gone. She doesn't want to think about what could've happened to them, in denial for the worst case scenario. She tries to keep herself calm by telling herself they probably just left to go back for Cassie, maybe they didn't want her stopping them.. but deep down she knows it can't be that simple. She knows something's off, even if she's not ready to admit it.

When returning to the pizzaplex, she brought along her own V.A.N.N.I. mask, though unlike the one Cassie used, it was clear of the mimic's influence. After all, she was going to need some way to travel through potential blocked routes.

By the time she found Gregory, she'd still been wearing the mask, seeing him down the end of a dark hallway. He looked confused, afraid, his mind was a wreck of conflicting emotions. She started rushing towards him, happy to see him okay, until he finally spoke.

"You need to get out of here."

She stepped back, taking off the mask, only to be faced with the worst case scenario.

It was a wreck, covered in stains and tears, but it was still recognizable. He was wearing that old suit again.

As he waved, she could see Freddy's claws peeking out from the doorway, as the two stepped closer towards her.

So, she did what he told her to do, and started running. She could hear a faint voice coming from the mask, and put it back on before finding somewhere she could hide.

It was his voice again, telling her which way to go.

I guess that was the dramatic way to summarize the main idea behind it, lol. Basically Gregory and Dr. Rabbit work the way Sun and Moon work in Ruin, whichever one is in control in the real world, the other is left behind in the AR world. Or at least that's my interpretation of how they worked, considering Sun was always in mask-on scenes and moon was mask-off. I'm not too sure where the plot might go from there, and maybe I'll consider writing for it, I dunno. I've never wrote fanfic before because I get deadly afraid of writing them out of character lol, but maybe?? I have ideas for scenes and premise and stuff but I don't know if I have the confidence to write it.

But anyway! That was just more of a fun side-idea I came up with while working on this, if you read this far thanks, hope you enjoyed :)

here's some silly little lineless doodles as a reward for making it to the end hehe

now that's what I call an art dump

@ggyweek2024

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dotster001 · 3 months

Note

Hiya!!! I was wondering if I could request what would happen if Yuu accidentally ignited a Snow Ball War at NRC? It could be HCs or imagines with whoever you want!

Snowball War

Summary: Gn!reader

A/N: idk where you guys live, but for the last two weeks, I've lived IN THE FUCKING ARCTIC. Today it finally reached 30° after two weeks of 14° and lower, and snow storms, and freezing rain, so I wrote this to celebrate a liveable temperature where I could actually see road for once.

“I have an idea.”

“Ah shit, not that look. Y/N, whatever he is about to ask you, say no,” Ace warned.

You looked up from your lunch in confusion. Epel had just slid over, with a wicked look in his eye. A look that normally came from Ace. And if Ace was telling you it would be bad, then it would surely be bad.

“I've never done anything wrong in my life!”

In the seat next to you, Jack snorted, but didn't say anything.

“Listen, Y/N, my best friend, one who I'd do anything for,” he pleadingly took your hand, full charm on. “I never ask for anything.”

This time you snorted.

“I just want this one thing.”

“What is it, Epel?” You asked tiredly.

“Well, you know how it's snowing? I need you to pretend we are having a snowball fight, so that I can “accidentally” hit Vil with a snowball.”

You yanked your hand back, and went back to your lunch.

“Just listen! He's gonna be on his internship next year, so I'll never get another chance!”

“Ask Ace.”

“No way, I choose to live.”

“It has to be you!” Epel pleaded. “You're the only one who can do it and not get killed! He likes you!”

“He sure has a funny way of showing it…”

“Look, we just need to throw a couple snowballs at each other, then when Vil walks through the courtyard, I'll accidentally miss you, and hit him. Then while I'm giving a fake apology, you're gonna hit me in the face with a snowball, and he'll see I'm telling the truth.”

“First off, he'll kill me for enabling you, because that's such bullshit that he won't believe. Second off,” you threw your hands up in frustration, “my aim is not good enough to hit you in the face. But you know who's is?”

You stared pointedly at Ace, who vehemently shook his head. “Stop trying to drag me into this!”

“Y/N,” Epel pleaded, taking your hand again, and making the saddest expression you'd ever seen. “Please.”

Jack groaned next to you. “Oh sevens.”

And you knew why he groaned. Because there was no way you were going to say no to that face.

….

Your fingers were starting to go numb from throwing snow.

“Epel, are you sure he's coming?” You whined.

“He has to come this way for film club! He's just, probably delayed or something.”

You grumbled as you leaned down to make what felt like the 300th snowball.

You heard a not so subtle cough from Epel, and knew that the devil himself had arrived. You subtly nodded, and threw a snowball at him. As planned, Epel threw one that was way over your shoulder. You heard the disgusted “ugh” as Epel began his fake apology, then aimed at Epel's face.

Unfortunately, just like you warned him, your aim was not good. It sailed past him, and hit a certain suited someone square in the back. Azul, flanked by the twins, slowly turned towards you, a cold smile on his face.

“Take care of that, please,” he said, and you stumbled backwards as you watched the twins make their way towards you.

“Shit, Epel-” you called, but he was too busy getting lectured. You watched Floyd pick up an armful of snow, and start running towards you, Jade preparing to snipe you with snowballs after the initial attack.

You ran, but slipped on an ice patch, falling straight into a body, who was just as unfortunate as you. The both of you went down, just as Floyd dropped the snow pile on the both of you.

“What in Seven’s name-” Jamil shouted from under you, and the snow pile. Only to get hit square in the face with Jade's sniper snowball.

“I've always wanted to do this!” Kalim giggled, still on his feet, and untouched with snow. He made a snowball, and threw it at the next unfortunate passerby who walked through the doorway.

Poor Idia…

He squeaked and hid behind Ortho, whispering something into the cyborg's ear. Ortho 's eyes brightened in excitement, and you watched in horror as his arm turned into a gun of sorts, and started rocketing snowballs every which way. You snatched Jamil's and Floyd's wrists, and dragged them behind a bench.

….

It hadn't taken long for some teams to form. Any poor soul who wandered into the courtyard was forced to take cover as snowballs were rained down upon them. This might have ended hours ago. Except Ortho was trigger happy, to the extent that Idia was hiding with your team, and Floyd had betrayed five different teams already. The other reason this wasn't over, was each team got "lucky" enough to have at least one person who had a vendetta against someone else.

You got lucky enough to be stuck with Leona.

Your team consisted of Leona, Jack, Idia, Jamil, and Trey. An odd mix to be sure.

“Snowball,” Leona grunted, Jack quickly handing him the requested snowball. He threw it with astounding speed and accuracy, hitting Cater square in the chest, hard enough that he released an oomph that was audible across the courtyard. Poor Cater hadn't meant to hit Leona, he was aiming for-

“Please! I won't punish any of you! Just let me go back to my dorm!” Riddle pleaded, his arms in the air in show of peace. He was knocked over by a barrage of snowballs, from Ortho and various other participants.

“Snowball,” Leona grunted.

“Oomph! Leona, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hit you!” Cater sobbed from across the way.

“Snowball.”

“Oomph!”

You grabbed Idia and Trey by the collar, bringing them in closer to you.

“We gotta come up with a plan,” you said barely above a whisper. Your bench was crowded, and not very safe from snowballs. Then again, it was better than the tree that Ace's team was stuck behind.

“Like what?” Jamil grumbled.

“Damn it!” You heard an unrecognizable cry, as Floyd slid back behind your bench.

“I'm back on your team!” Floyd giggled happily. “What are we doing?”

“Plotting our escape,” Trey said with a tired laugh.

Floyd pursed his lips. Then threw a snowball straight at Trey's face, bursting into laughter and rushing to join a different team.

“Wonderful,” Trey muttered, wiping his glasses off on his shirt.

“We're gonna die here,” Idia whined, burying his head in his arms.

“We could use Shroud as a shield. His baby brother wouldn't dare hit him,” Jamil offered up.

Idia glared at Jamil. “Aren't you supposed to smart! If that was true, why would I be hiding behind a bench like you dweebs?”

“Fu fu fu, what do we have here?” Lilia's upside down face suddenly appeared in the middle of your group. You popped up in shock, and in that moment, were slammed in the back of your head by a snowball.

You turned to glare at the perpetrator. Of those who had a vendetta, Rook seemed to be out for you. He smiled pleasantly, as he aimed another one at you, before Jamil yanked you back down.

“Lilia, we need to get out of here. Can you use that big brain of yours to help us?” Idia cried, at the bargaining stage of the stages of grief.

“Hm…” Lilia tilted his head thoughtfully, then poofed out of sight in magenta smoke.

Moments later, Malleus and all of his attendants walked out into the courtyard.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” you muttered.

“Why? They're our back up, right?” Idia muttered.

“No. I very much doubt it,” you heaved out. You peaked up over the edge of the bench, where Malleus made eye contact, and gave a small smile. Lilia waved just as Malleus threw the snowball at you. You ducked at the last moment, and-

“Fuck you, lizard!” Leona leapt over the bench, threw a snowball at Malleus, then tackled him to the ground, the two of them wrestling in a snow pile. Lilia looked on as though this was the proudest moment of his life.

Floyd flopped back over to your group.

“‘m bored. I wanna break out with you guys.”

“That was fast,” Jack muttered, though you weren't sure if he was referring to Leona, or Floyd.

“Well, there's our distraction. You're from a dorm that's all about strategy, come up with something!” You snapped at Jamil.

He glared, and sighed tiredly. “Realistically, I can't leave before Kalim is done.”

The rest of you stared at him, unimpressed. He sighed.

“But if you still want a plan, then use Jack and Shroud as a shield.”

“I already told you, Ortho is gonna-”

“Did I say shield? I meant sacrifice.”

“Fine with me!” You jumped to your feet, yanking Idia up in front of you. Trey realized you were already moving, and quickly joined you as you pulled a shouting Idia along the courtyard. Behind you, you saw Floyd trying to wrestle Jack into being his shield. It was going badly. Not your problem anymore.

You made it halfway across the courtyard, when a hand grabbed your ankle. You looked down, to see Deuce staring up at you.

“Take me with you,” he croaked.

You reached out to grab his hand, but startled as Trey started moving you and your shield with even more fervor.

“Wait, Deuce!” you cried.

“Who?” Trey said, his face the picture of innocence, even as he fought to keep back a vicious smirk.

“Big brother!” Ortho giggled.

“Ortho, wait-” Idia cried, and you were all shocked as chunks of snow rose and fell above his shoulders from the quickly pulverized snowballs.

“Big brother! You're supposed to throw a snowball back!”

You finally reached the door, Trey reaching behind him and turning the knob. He pulled you in behind him, as Idia dove to the ground. Trey quickly slammed the door.

You were going to ask whether you should try to save Idia, but he looked at you in concern. He gently grabbed your hands in his own, rubbing them between his.

“Your hands are so cold. There's hot cocoa in my dorm.”

“Hot cocoa,” you muttered, as your fingers started to burn from the lingering frostbite.

“And I can make some warm bread…”

“Oh,” you whispered in awe, slowly following him as he walked backwards to the mirror chamber.

“The kitchen is very warm…”

“Yeah…”

You heard a snowball hit the door, and were nearly pulled out of the cozy hypnosis that Trey had put you under, but he whispered.

“Heartslaybul has very soft blankets.”

And then you were right back under.

Tag list- @eccedentesiast-sapphic @leoll

#twisted wonderland

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thegnomelord · 2 months

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okay i finally caved and wanted to talk about my idea for a nishruu inspired monster of sorts? i just enjoy rambling a little bit as you may be able to tell

so nishruu. red whisps that endlessly hunt down magic and magical items to sate their hunger, so these creatures are a nightmare for mages and magic wielders. all of my knowledge for these guys comes from dnd, so ill have to take a few creative liberties but im not complaining! pure nishruus are rare - as well as humans that have under some circumstances become fused with these little magic eaters. they're slightly similar to wraiths - having whispy bodies that are impossible to contain considering how they can slip through even the smallest of cracks. they look... mostly human, besides the way their forearms, into their hands, fade into a red mist that flows off of their form, and how they can turn fully into whisps and slip away. these half-nishruus rely on magic to sustain themselves the same, so it isn't uncommon for these acceptionally rare monsters to seek out mages or other magic wielders and make a deal. i really love symbiosis - and considering that half-nishruus have human intelligence, making a deal is typically the best plan for them.

the deals are usually simple - in exchange for some magic to keep them sustained, the nishruus will fight to keep the person they made the deal with alive. after all, it's wise for them to keep their... supplier? alive, considering how many magic wielders will likely throw salt the second they see red whisps. oh, and nishruus main weaknesses are salt. it deals damage similar to poison to them. some magic wielders have even been spotted with sealed amulets containing a strange red substance inside, containing these nishruus until battle comes, where they release the magic eaters (which are likely very hungry) to aid them against any enemies who may have magical weapons or spells

also just imagining a nishruu hybrid crawling over to ifrit and begging for a deal, then ifrit keeps them like a pokemon lmao

-🪸

Okay this is cool and got me brain doing the hyperfocusing thingy so here's a noncannon blurb with Ifrit set at a time when Ifrit's been, mostly, redeemed lol. Probably doesn't make much sense but idk

You stare at Price, unmoving, unblinking. Then your gaze slowly slides to the man sitting across Price's desk. Corporal Simmons shrinks into himself, shoulders hunching and looking down, unable to meet your eyes. He doesn't know why he feels like a little boy in your presence, he's your superior for fuck's sake, but the way you look at him. . . if fucking scares him.

Finally, you speak, voice softer than Simmons expected it to be. It only makes the cold edge to it press against his throat harder. "Captain, with all due respect, which is none." You say, your hard gaze falling back to Captain Price. "What the fuck?"

Price lets out a low sigh, already done with your shit yesterday. "Don't make me write you up private." You both know he won't, you've said and done worse things than this. "You heard me clearly."

"Yeah, I heard you." You say, unable to hide the way your muscles tense, your fingers curled into fists. "I just don't understand why I have to keep the damn leech alive."

Simmon's tries to speak up, "Hey, I'm not-"

"Shut your mouth." The way you say it leaves no room for argument. Even without using magic, Simmons can feel the way it simmers beneath your skin, like lava bubbling beneath the earth. So plentiful and vast it makes his mouth water, stomach coiling itself into knots as red smoke fizzles at his fingers. God, he's so hungry, he hasn't eaten in weeks.

"Captain, there are other mages that would be more than happy to have this parasite attached to them." You grunt, motioning loosely to Simmons. "I don't get why I have to feed the damn thing." You make your disgust for Simmon's painfully clear.

"That's enough private." Price's growl forces you to listen, your attention on him as he stands. "This is an order." His hand reaches out to grip your chin, his touch making your skin prickle even when the balaclava you wear dampens the touch. "You will follow." His blue eyes stare into yours, thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. It's almost endearing, the way he does it, but you know enough about dragons to see the hidden dominance in his touch. "Am I clear?"

You feel yourself frown, your eyes narrowing. "If it tries anything funny I'm taking it behind the barn and putting it down."

"Ifrit." The latter half of your callsign rolls off his tongue into a low rumble. Price tightens the hold on your chin, making it clear you're skirting the line of how much you can push before he needs to tan your ass to get some obedience back in you.

It makes your lightning prickle beneath your skin, "Yes sir." You grumble. "I understand."

"Good mage." He tuts and lets you go, "Dismissed."

You nod your head, your eye catching Simmon's as you turn to your heel. "Follow." You say, the sharpness in your voice making him scramble out of his seat after you. He sticks close to you as you walk through the hallways until you reach the training area, the walls and floors singed and blackened from weeks of training.

"Just so you know." You say, turning to look at Simmons. "As far as I'm concerned, death would suit you better." You say as you take off your glove, revealing the cooled mana texture of your mage marks. You hold your hand out, your fingertips starting to glow as you let a bit of mana flow to your palms.

Simmon's nearly stumbles over his feet, hands reaching out to hold your hand. He can't help but moan as he presses his lips to your palm, the smoke coming from his arms curling around your skin. He feels like a starving man finally getting a glass of water, feeling the mana flow into his body. He feels hot, his tongue tingles like he's just eaten something spicy, but god if feels wonderful.

He doesn't think he's ever met a mage with so much plentiful mana as you, his teeth nibbling on the volcanic chunks of your palm as he devours more mana. It curls in his belly, traveling through his veins, making him feel so warm and he just wants more, more, More—

"That's enough." You growl, pulling your hand back and quickly putting your glove back on. "Should be enough for a week." You grunt, leaving him standing where he is.

#gnome's tea break #gnome correspondence #🪸anon #hell has a basement floor series #non cannon #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #cod modern warfare #cod x reader

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kimbapisnotsushi · 4 months

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ojiro aran headcanons bc @luminouschaotic asked me if i had thoughts (which was. a while back) but i'm out of town for two weeks in a couple days and won't be on much so i wanted to get this done before then so LET'S GO!!

aran has like spidey-sense Chaos Instincts™️ honed by years of taking care of the miyas so much so that on his first day at inarizaki he feels a tingle down his spine and turns around just in time to catch akagi michinari falling out of a tree

aran, being the kind soul that he is, goes over to help. because if there's anything the miyas have taught him it's that if you don't intervene early on there WILL be even more severe consequences down the line than if you'd just helped them in the first place

it basically goes "hi i'm ojiro what do you need me to do and how much plausible deniability can i get from this"

don't worry akagi had just been get a paper airplane bc he might be a little shit but he's a little shit with morals who cares about the environment

he didn't get the airplane the branch broke before he could

akagi tells aran that he's going to try one more time and asks aran to stand under the tree so that aran can catch him if he falls again and aran's dreading the day akagi and the twins will finally meet

i actually think it WOULD be funny if kita and akagi had been childhood friends or something previously bc a) SOMEONE had to have been akagi's handle before high school and b) it just makes sense in my head

also i think a fundamental aspect of the shiratorizawa and inarizaki rivalry that we're overlooking is reon and aran bonding

like. they get it. they know what it's like. loving a place that does not always loves you back. having a home that does not always feel like a home. it can be hard, sometimes. but if there's one thing they agree on it's that their teams ALWAYS have their backs

(lev and liam my lovelies i have NOT forgotten about you)

also this just makes the whole "aran's irrational fear is tendou satori" a thousand times funnier

since it's established that aran references older pieces of media i like to think that means he sits down with like idk his grandparents probably and they watch all kinds of things together

sometimes the only other people who get aran's references are people who ALSO sit down and watch things with their grandparents (kuroo, kageyama, kita. . . )

the haikyuu club of good grandchildren . . .

anyways so that's how kita and aran become friends!!

oh my god . . . do you guys think his sister had those small kid puppy crushes on any of his friends . . . .

my vote is akagi or the miyas do you know how funny that would be

i think a bit that akagi does with aran is saying "oh my god this is just like [insert fictional media here]" when something (usually an Event™️ involving the miyas) happens and aran going "STOP SAYING THIS IS JUST LIKE [??] AND HELP ME"

when the third years graduate aran gives gin a gift and tells him not to open it until he gets home

when gin does open it he finds a booklet titled "how to survive the miyas: a comprehensive guide by ojiro aran" and it's at least a hundred pages long

the first page is an emergency contact list with the numbers of the miyas' parents, aran's parents, and every hospital/clinic within a fifteen-mile radius

definitely prefers a real newspaper to a digital one

i think the whole of the inarizaki third years are tech-averse tbh if you took them to one of those restaurants with the little robot servers with screens for faces they'd slow blink at it like really confused cats

this sucks especially for suna bc every time he gives his phone to one of them when he wants pictures of himself with someone or something they always come out blurry or too much exposure or some shit

i think aran and oomimi go hiking with each other on the weekends and are always pestering everyone else to go with them

they win when they promise everyone, yes, we can go out for brunch and boba after

(do the twins fall into a stream while trying to cross it? yes. did they still go to brunch afterwards, sopping wet? also yes. aran doesn't think he's ever laughed harder in his life.)

#as always hope y'all had fun!!#ojiro aran #akagi michinari #kita shinsuke #oomimi ren #miya osamu #miya atsumu #ginjima hitoshi #suna rintarou #honorable mention to:#ohira reon #AND #tendou satori #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu hcs #sou says stuff

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shadow4-1 · 5 months

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You're Not My Boyfriend! - Crazy!Soap x Reader Imagine (SFW)

[I just found out that my best friend of 10 years thinks we're dating (even tho he knows I'm married and have only ever referred to him as a friend - albeit my best friend). Idk what mental hoops he had to jump through to get to this point. Instead of dwelling on this interpersonal fact, I'm going to distract myself with a imagine on why Soap would most certainly act with the same kind of crazy.]

The two of you crossed paths for the first time because you're someone who works a support role for the 141 (ie. the medical/technical fields). You're not in the 141, in fact, you rarely see them because you're too busy with your own duties behind the scenes. You know they're important/a big deal because your superiors tell you so, but it's not like you really care. You don't deal with them enough to.

When you finally crossed paths with Soap, you find all of the team a bit brutish. You don't really like talking to them, and if you have to, you keep it curt. Soap is the one who actually tries to chat you up. You still keep up the same behavior because no thanks. He smiles too wide, and he doesn't blink enough. You're 95% sure all of these men are psychopaths.

A few weeks go by, and you completely forget about him. It isn't until flowers and chocolates and teddy bears with your name on it start showing up. The same note is always inside: Can't wait to see you again. Your stomach flips because you haven't been on a date in a couple years. All of your coworkers think you finally have a new significant other. They coo over the gifts and talk behind your back about how someone like you doesn't deserve the effort. You don't have it in yourself to speak up nor would it really matter.

You throw yourself into your work to distract yourself from the gossip. You tear through assignments like it's no one's business. Eventually, your productivity is noticed by Laswell. Unbeknownst to you, she does a background check on you. She finds out you've already been noticed by the 141 and have been receiving gifts from a particular member. She's half tempted to tell you but decides against it. She knows this won't end well either way. Laswell decides to leave you be, but manages to pull some strings to get you a well-deserved promotion.

The gifts stop for a few months but start up again sporadically. Rumors start about how the timing of the gifts matches up with the 141 deployments. Someone on the team has taken a liking to you. You roll your eyes at them, and you don't want to believe them. Those meatheads from the 141? One of them likes you when they've got dozens of other pretty young things working in their peripherals? Ha, likely story. The person actually sending you the gifts is probably the old janitor. After all, chivalry is so dead nowadays.

The gifts keep coming even as you enjoy your new promotion. The notes start to change, but they continue to remain anonymous. You start to accept that your favorite flowers are being sent from a 141 member. You have to see them more often, thanks to your new post. It doesn't take you long to figure out which man has been trying to capture your attention. God, why does it always have to be the creepy ones?

He's too touchy and too insensitive, and he's loud and makes you feel small. You want him to leave every time you have to be in the room with the team. Why couldn't it have been the Captain or the maniac in black? Why does it have to be the Scottish one who won't shut up?

You learn (against your will) that his name is John "Johnny/Soap" MacTavish, he's single and ready to mingle, he loves his mum and his sisters and he thinks you're "bangin" (whatever that means). It's so obvious he's got a crush on you, but you desperately try to play it off. He's a puppy, and all you have to do is wait for him to grow up and realize it's never going to happen.

One night, you decide to head out with your coworkers for drinks. And lo and behold, guess who dragged his whole team out to the same bar? You're understandably pissed off, but you can't bear to tell Soap off in front of everyone. It's probably the biggest mistake of your life.

He physically sweeps you off your feet and refers to you as his "bestest girl". Despite how annoying he is, his good mood seems to run off on everyone...including you. He buys you drinks, and you keep him at a respectable arms length. Despite how much you really don't like him that way, you have to start admitting he's got a weird charm to him.

You make him repeat it back to you. He seems all too happy to agree with you.

Later on in the night, you take him off to the side. You explain to him clearly that the two of you are friends. Only friends. You'll never be more than that. But, he's a good guy, and if he needs someone to talk to, you're down to be friends.

"Yes, Bonnie. We're only friends."

With a sigh, you slap his shoulder and tell him to buy you another drink.

Weeks drag on. The romantic gifts stop, but the gifts keep coming. At first, it's nothing you'd really bat an eye over from a good friend. It's Scottish hot chocolate tablets that he swears you have to try. It's CDs of his favorite bands because your taste in music should be broadened! It's books and bags and stupid little trinkets to personalize your desk.

You can't believe you find yourself humoring him, but you do. After all, it seemed like his crush on you disappeared. You get him weird snacks and make him mixtapes for his longer missions. Always under the guise as a treat from the rest of the staff, you send care packages if you can. Johnny calls you out on it but you feign ignorance. He's your friend. You'd actually hate to know he's slogging around in mud, hungry and alone.

That sounds like pure hell.

"Y' git used to it, Bonnie."

Eventually, he suggests spending time outside of work. He mentions he'd gotten a new gaming console you'd been dying to have yourself. That night, the two of you sit comfortably side by side, trying to kick each other's asses at a video game. When he wims, he leans back and laces his arms beneath his head, grinning and laughing. He looks so proud of himself. A part of you whispers that it's because he'd weaseled his way into your good graces, but you were in too good of a mood to listen to that part of your brain.

Just as you were about to get ready to leave, Johnny stops you. It was late. You should take his bed and get some rest. He'd take you to work in the morning. Despite yourself, you agree. It was late, and you were tired, and the drive back home would be too long. You take off your pants, crawl into his huge bed and pass out.

The next morning was normal. You had an extra uniform in your locker, so you got changed at work. You had gotten a great night's sleep, so you didn't think about your appearance. But apparently, everyone else did.

The gossip began at full force. Someone saw you changing despite the fact you always came into work in uniform. Johnny looked terrible. It was obvious he hadn't gotten great sleep last night. You looked well rested. In fact, you were even glowing! And Johnny had dropped you off, too?

Oh no.

You wanted to address the new rumors, but that's all they were. And even if you did, you were sure it would just backfire. You tried to keep your head down, but one of your best friends (a fellow coworker) came by your desk. Apparently, Johnny was bragging that his bestest friend spent the night over.

You were so mad you tracked him down and pulled him to the side. You whispered angrily at him, chastising him for making it seem like the two of you were an item. You were only friends!

"Yeah, you're m' bestest girl." He shrugged, grinning happily. "N' m' you're bestest boy. We love each other."

The deranged pieces were starting to come together. The way he brushed off the advances of the other girls. The way all of your prospective partners disappeared after getting into it with him. The knowing, almost pitying glances of the 141.

"W-we're friends!" You squeaked. "You're not my boyfriend!"

"Boy friend. Boyfriend. What's th' difference?" Johnny laughed hard, doubling over. "We're together."

After that, you blocked his number and tried to ignore him. Of course, it didn't work. Johnny was relentless. He got new phone numbers to text you. He started sending gifts (this time a mix between the romantic and the mundane). He sent letters of all kinds during deployment. He even sent pictures you were sure would get him in trouble.

You tried so hard to ignore it all until one night, he messaged you on social media.

He was out on a mission again, but he just had to say how he felt:

I can't wait to get home and see you again. I miss you so much. You're one of the only people I can talk to and laugh with. I'm sorry if I made you upset. We should talk about it over dinner. My treat, Bonnie.

You knew better. God, you knew better. But that part of your heart that wanted to trust and love won over. You agreed to talk when he returned, but you made it very clear that it would be a meeting between coworkers, not even friends.

The day eventually came, and the two of you sat across from each other at a too fancy restaurant. There was a dress code, so you had on a nice dress. You were mad from the jump, you couldn't believe you'd let him talk you into this.

He was dressed nicely in a suit, with a bushel of flowers and a medium-sized gift box. He apologized for making you feel uncomfortable. He'd never meant to make you feel that way. He really did see you as his best friend. In his eyes, you were the only person who truly understood him. He let his physical attraction blind him, and for that, he was sorry.

"I'll admit, I did a few bad things against y'." He offered you the box. "I wanna give it all back, wipe the slate clean, love."

Love?

You shakily opened the box and felt bile rise up in the back of your throat. It was pairs of your old panties, missing chapsticks, nail polish, scrunchies, and even a dirty uniform shirt you thought you had lost. The contents of the box had a slightly musky scent that no longer resembled yours. He'd stolen these things and had kept them for a long, long time. Perhaps even before the two of you had become "friends".

You covered your hand with a mouth as you felt like you were getting sick. What the fuck?

"We'll, now tha' everything's been laid bare..."

You watched in shock as a few classical musicians with their instruments came around the table. They encircled you and began playing a romantic piece with sweet vibratos. The guests at other tables started to gasp and point at you. You tried to stand, but John put a hand on your shoulder to keep you sitting. With a voice loud enough for the whole restaurant to hear he began to talk.

"These last couple years you've been my bestest friend, m' bestest girl." He sighed dreamily before getting down onto one knee.

You were mortified. You tried to pull your feet away from him, but he placed a firm hand on your knee. He pulled out a shiny box from his suit pocket. The music hit a peak that made you start to cry from overstimulation. No, no, this couldn't be happening. He's crazy!

"Please, be m' bestest girl forever." He practically pleaded, opening the box to show off a much too large diamond ring. Women at the tables behind you gasped. The music began to stop, but the whine of the violins hurt your head. Tears began to spill down your face.

"Marry me, love."

The entire restaurant went silent.

You could feel dozens upon dozens of eyes on you.

The pressure was too much for you to outright say no.

But you couldn't say yes, either.

You began to sob loudly. You covered your face and tried to hide away from the gaze of the strangers. John shushed you and cooed and pulled you into his arms. You wanted to fight him but his large body shielded you from the petriying public gaze. He rubbed at your back and whispered encouraging words to you. Eventually, he got you to stop blubbering and pulled away from you just enough to look down into your face.

"I love you. N' 've always loved you." He smiled.

You squeaked at the feeling of ice-cold metal being slipped down your middle finger.

You looked down at the ring in shock.

The entire restaurant erupted into claps and whistles and congratulatory whoops.

"N' now we'll be bestest friends forever, love."

#cod imagines #soap x reader #soap headcanons #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap imagine

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