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ripcupid · 3 days

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FOCUS

“I can’t wait ‘till we chill, what you wanna do?”

- you left Price with the kids as you went on date, the date couldn’t be bad right?

୨୧ ex husband! price x reader

୨୧ word count: 2.6k 😨

୨୧ yes the title is a nct 127 reference! (If you even know who they are) also sorry for being gone for 4 months 🤭

“John, can you come pick me up?” You shiver in the cool night air, pressing your phone to your ear as you hold yourself.

“Was he that bad?” Price snickers on the other side of the phone, “I told ya, love,” he chuckles making you roll your eyes at the pet name.

“Shut up,” you huff, annoyance lacing your tone mixed with a hint of amusement. “Just hurry… please.”

“Alright, alright I’m comin’.” Price hangs up the phone, leaving you to wait in the cold a little longer before his car pulls up in front of you.

You find yourself smiling as you stare at Price's hands gripping the steering wheel, dropping your smile as he glances over at you, a sly grin spreading across his face. “I see ya looking, love,” he teases, looking from the corner of his eyes over at you.

You roll your eyes playfully, feeling a warmth in your chest at his teasing. "Just drive, John," you say, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips. You turn in your seat to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks, grateful for the darkness of the car.

Price chuckles softly, the sound making your heart flutter as he drives the familiar route to your home. As you get out of the car, Price leans over the console, his eyes trailing over your body before locking with yours. "You gonna let me come in?" he asks, a smirk playing on his lips, "you know, say goodnight to my kids?"

"Fine, but just for a minute," you reply, trying to sound stern but failing. You feel his gaze lingering on you as Price follows you through to the front door and up to your twin's room.

You lean against the door frame, watching as he bends down to kiss your sleeping son goodnight, a warmth spreading through your chest at the sight of him being a dad all over again, remembering all the times like this before the divorce. He moves over to your daughter's bed and tucks her in tighter, whispering a soft goodnight.

"Are you staying for breakfast?" your daughter mumbles, looking up at Price with sleepy eyes. He looks down at her with a soft smile, "I don’t know, Ya gotta ask your mom first, sweetheart." Your daughter looks over at you with hopeful eyes, silently asking for permission.

"Of course, daddy can stay for breakfast, " you say with a smile as your daughter's face lights up with joy, "but you gotta go to sleep now." Price nods in agreement, giving the twins a final goodnight kiss before quietly leaving the room with you.

You walk him back downstairs, heading to the kitchen to grab two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. As you pour the drinks, Price leans against the counter, staring at you with a loving gaze. "What, John?" you ask, noticing the look in his eyes.

"Nothing, love, just looking," he replies, making your face heat up with a blush that you try to hide by turning back to the drinks.

"Don't call me that," you say under your breath, handing him a glass. "I'm not your wife anymore." Price takes the glass from you, a grin spreading across his face.

"Oh come on, what, you don't like it anymore? I thought you loved it when I called you that," he teases, taking a sip of his whiskey. You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the memories that flood back at his words.

"Yeah, when we were married" you mutter, taking a sip of your drink and avoiding his gaze as you stand across from him. Price chuckles, setting his glass down on the counter. He steps closer to you, holding your cheek gently in his hand. You wanna push him away but you can't help the familiar warmth that spreads through you as he cradles your face. He lifts your chin, locking eyes with you.

His thumb traces your lips softly, a gesture that still makes your heart race despite the months you've been apart. He pulls you closer, his lips brushing against yours causing your breathing to hitch in your throat. The familiar smell of his cologne clouds around you as you grab onto his shirt, bunching the fabric in your fists. "John, we can't keep doing this," you whisper in the small space between you.

"Tell me no then, and I'll stop," he responds his voice barely above a whisper. The tension between you two is palpable, but you never tell him to stop knowing that deep down, you don't want him to.

"One kiss won't hurt," you rationalize, leaning in to meet his lips with yours. The kiss is slow and passionate as he holds your face in his hand gently, letting his tongue slide against yours. As the kiss deepens, his hands roam over your back, holding you against him. You can feel yourself losing control as his hand slips under your dress, resting on the curve of your ass.

Price kneads the soft flesh with a hunger that matches his own, sending a rush of desire between your legs. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you run your fingers through his hair, tugging gently. "John, upstairs, please," you pant breathlessly between kisses.

"Ya sure?" You nod eagerly, letting him lift you effortlessly in his arms and carry you up the stairs to your bedroom. As he lays you down on your bed, he leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses along your neck and collarbone, making you bite down on your lip to stifle a moan. He slides down the straps of your dress, exposing your bare chest to the cool air of the room.

The anticipation builds as he kisses down the center of your chest, your back arching in response to his touch. You hold the back of his head in your hands as he moves to your tits, kissing and teasing your sensitive nipples until they harden under his touch. Your breathing quickens as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before gently sucking.

You look down at him with desire, feeling the growing ache between your legs. As he continues to suck your tits, you push your hips up against him, silently begging for more. Price moves to the other nipple, giving it the same attention as the first. His hands move slowly down your sides, tracing every curve of your body as he buries his face in your chest.

You moan softly as Price releases your nipple with a pop, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he sits up to look down at you. "Look at you, love," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "So fucking beautiful." He pulls the rest of your dress off, revealing your naked body underneath before moving to your heels and slowly removing them, placing gentle kisses on each of your ankles as he does so.

You watch in anticipation as he spreads your legs apart, a smirk playing on his lips as he sees the growing damp spot on your panties. "No one's been taking care of my girl, huh?" He teases, sliding his hands up your thighs until they reach the edge of your panties. You shake your head, unable to form words as his fingers brush against the damp fabric, making you gasp softly.

"I gotcha now, don't worry," he whispers, his voice low and husky as he slowly slides your panties off, leaving you completely exposed to him. You sit up to stare down at him as he positions himself between your legs, his warm breath teasing your inner thighs. Price places a kiss on your aching clit, pushing your thighs to your chest to give him better access.

"Missed this pretty pussy of yours," he murmurs, looking up at you, making you shy away from his intense gaze. Your breath hitches as he leans in, his tongue darting out to lick a stripe up your slit before he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking gently. Your hands instinctively reach for his head, your fingers tangling in his hair as you moan softly, grinding your hips against his face.

Price pulls back, replacing his mouth with his fingers, slowly sliding them inside you as he watches your reactions closely, a smug smile playing on his lips. "You taste so good," he grunts, his voice low and rough. His tongue presses against your clit, flicking and teasing the sensitive bud until you're squirming and arching your back in pleasure, unable to contain your moans. "Shh, the kids are asleep," he whispers, his fingers moving faster inside you, his other hand gripping your hip tightly. "Can't -fuck, you feel so good," you moan, trying to reach for his hand.

"You wanna hold my hand, love?" he chuckles when you nod, intertwining his fingers with yours as his fingers curl inside you in just the right way to make you gasp. You cover your mouth with your free hand, trying to muffle your moans as Price returns to your clit, sucking and licking the bud with the same fervor as his fingers. Your hips sputter and buck against his face as you feel the heat building in your core, his touch driving you closer to the edge with each movement.

"I'm gonna cum, John, please, baby, don't stop," you whimper, your voice shaky with need. Price lets go of your hand, reaching up to knead your tits, teasing your nipples as he continues his ministrations. As you feel the tension in your body reaching its peak, you clamp your hand over your mouth to stifle the loud moans threatening to escape.

"That's it, love, come for me," he murmurs against your cunt. Your hips arch off the bed as you finally reach your climax, reaching for his hand for support as you desperately ride out the waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Price holds your hips tightly as you shudder and gasp, your body still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm.

You lay limp under him, panting softly as he presses gentle kisses along your inner thighs before kissing his way back up your body. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to your lips, kissing him slowly and deeply, tasting yourself on his lips.

Price's hands roam over your body, cupping your tits, eliciting soft moans from your lips as he brushes over your sensitive nipples. You continue to kiss him passionately, trying to get his shirt off, eager to feel his bare skin against yours.

Price breaks away from the kiss, his eyes never leaving yours as he quickly removes his shirt, revealing his toned chest. You chew on your bottom lip as he moves to his pants, pulling them down just enough to reveal his cock straining against his boxers.

Your breath hitches at the sight, anticipation building as he pulls himself free from his boxers, a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip. He wraps a hand around himself, stroking slowly as he watches your reaction, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Don't look so surprised," he groans, tightening his hand around his cock, "I know you can take it, love." You spread your legs wider, eager for him to fill you as you feel the heat pooling between your legs again.

You reach down to touch yourself, moaning softly as you match his rhythm, the anticipation of him inside you driving you wild. "I want you inside me, please," you whimper, your voice barely audible over the sound of his heavy breathing.

Price pulls you closer, pushing your legs further apart as he positions himself at your entrance, whispering, "Keep 'em open for me, okay?” You nod, eagerly waiting as his cock teases your wetness before finally sliding inside you. His eyes stay fixed on your cunt as he slowly slides deeper into you.

You sit up to watch as he slowly starts to thrust in and out, a whiny moan escaping your lips as you watch him disappear into you. The feeling of him stretching you out makes your jaw go slack, your hands gripping the sheets as you look up at him, feeling every inch of him filling you up completely. "Is this good?" Price asks, leaning over you, his eyes focused on your face as he starts to move inside you with a slow and steady rhythm.

"Oh my -fuck, yes," you manage to gasp out. You cling to Price desperately, your nails digging into his biceps as you meet his thrusts with your movements. Price holds your face gently in his hands, his eyes locked with yours as he whispers, "You feel so good, baby -god your body was fucking made for me."

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he lazily plants soft kisses along your collarbone. You hold onto him tighter, savoring the feeling of his lips on your skin and the weight of his body against yours.

The room is filled with the sound of heavy breathing and your soft quiet moans as his cock slowly brings you to the edge once again. Price pants heavily against your ear, his movements becoming more urgent and desperate as he drives you both toward release. The soft sound of his name escaping your lips in a breathless plea only spurs him on even further, his hand gripping your hips possessively as he speeds up his thrusts, determined to have you come around his cock.

His eyes are locked on yours, filled with love and desire as he watches you unravel beneath him. You lean up to capture his lips in a hungry, passionate kiss, moaning against his mouth as your clit bumps against his pelvis with each thrust. Your body curls into his, your nails digging into his back as you feel the pressure building in your core. "I'm gonna come," you gasp, feeling the tension in your body reaching its peak.

"I know, love, me too," he grunts with a chuckle. Price's movements become more urgent as he feels your gummy walls spasm around him, pushing him closer to his own release as he helps you ride out your orgasm, his own release not far behind. He holds you close, grunting in your ear as he begs to come inside you.

"Please, let me come inside you," he pleads, his voice strained with desire. You nod slowly, still dazed from the intensity of your climax, feeling his thrusts becoming more desperate and sloppy as he reaches his peak. As he finally releases inside you, you whimper softly in response to the overwhelming sensation of him filling you up.

Price collapses on top of you, both of you breathing heavily before he rolls off to the side, pulling you into his arms and kissing your forehead gently. "This is the last time, John," you mutter, tracing lazy patterns on his stomach with your fingertips. Price chuckles softly, making you look up at him. "You said that last time, love," he teases, causing you to pull away to face him.

"I mean it this time," you insist, getting up from the bed and grabbing your clothes. "We can't keep doing this," you say, walking to your bathroom. Price watches you through the open doorway as you turn on the shower. "Can I at least shower with you?" he asks with a sly grin as he gets up from your bed, tucking himself back into his boxers.

You look at him where he stands in your doorway, a mixture of frustration and desire evident in your eyes. "Fine, but this is the last time," you say with a sigh, unable to resist him as he follows you into the bathroom. Price's grin widens as he follows you into the shower, knowing he has once again won you over once again.

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call-of-duty-incorrect-quotes · 5 hours

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Soap: Are you a bullet? cause I can’t get you out of my hea-

Ghost, hits him with a pillow: Too FUCKING SOON!

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty #soap mactavish #ghost riley #ghostsoap #soapghost #johnny mactavish #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod mwiii #cod mw3 #cod modern warfare #incorrect cod quotes #incorrect call of duty quotes

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tanked-up · 2 days

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★彡Ids rainin fuckin hartt彡★

Soap: ᔕO YOᑌ ᗪOO ᒪIKE ᗰEE

Ghost: ｡✧ 🎀 𝐼 𝐿𝐼𝒦𝐸 𝒴♡𝒰 𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒 🎀 ✧

#I CAN’T #ghostsoap #call of duty #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #cod modern warfare #modern warfare two #incorrect cod quotes #cod meme

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 2 days

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Smoking with Price

F!/AFAB!Reader x Price fluff piece. Word count 2.7k (oops it got away with me) Warnings: Weed and Cigar smoking, alcohol mention(brief), Soap is a menace, a little angst, happy ending.

Price Masterlist | CoD Masterlist | AO3

You met on a riverside patio in a pub in Hereford.

Him nursing a large measure of whisky and a fat cigar. You with a soft drink and a fat spliff perched between your lips.

It’s balmy, bloody Mediterranean your grandfather would have said, as you exhale a heady cloud of smoke from your lungs. The cheap tobacco aftertaste heavy on your tongue as you feel the buzz brewing deep in your chest. You hate how the UK smoking culture always cuts weed with tobacco, but that’s your fault for buying pre-rolled.

“Fuckin’ hell,” you hear someone groan behind you, the heavy thunk of the patio door follows soon after the stranger’s grunt of disapproval.

“Sorry,” you say flatly, not really caring for the wanker’s comfort when he’s likely to just be coming out here to rapidly huff a few Lambert & Butlers – worse yet, Sterling Super Kings – before going back to the poor girls he has been dry-humping against all night.

“What’re you apologising for?” The gruff voice asks as you turn over your shoulder to address him.

“Thought you were bitching about this,” you say as you wave your dominant hand back and forth, spliff caught between your index and middle finger as the orange tip glows angrily against the darkening sky. You don’t know if it’s the high or the fact you haven’t gotten laid in months, but the moment your eyes connect with him you’re done for.

He has eyes like blown glass, bright blue with an intensity that makes you feel almost shy beneath his gaze. His beard is thick but well kept, despite clearly being able to grow it full, its styled into a heavy set of mutton chops. On anyone else it might look comical, but he isn’t anyone else.

You know you’re staring, but he’s not shy either. Those baby blues raking up and over you as he clearly fights a battle in his head over whether or not to join you. You don’t mind the pause, the indecision, it gives you a little longer to ogle.

He’s broad, like ridiculously wide with strong shoulders that pull at the seams of his white t-shirt. You never thought you were into body hair, but here you are practically salivating at the way his chest hair teases up out of his collar. His khaki cargo shorts sit low on his hips and your eyes are drawn to his thick calves. His hair is thick there too, prompting you to wonder how hairy he is elsewhere-.

“Christ, no, didn’t even see you there.”

Ouch.

You meet his gaze as he cringes, clearly realising how abrupt that sounded.

“Sorry,” he starts but you shrug him off, bringing the spiff back to your lips to take a long drag, trying not to grimace as you fully realise how high the tobacco to weed ratio in the blunt really is.

“S’okay, don’t owe me shit,” you say with a shrug.

“My mother raised me better than to make a beautiful woman feel dejected,” he says, voice softer now, almost sultry, as he settles a metre or so to your right. A respectable distance. He pulls a white tube with red detailing from his pocket, you smile at the familiar sight as he pops it open to reveal a hefty cigar.

“Going to give me whiplash with that turnaround, soldier,” you scoff as you feel the heat rise to your cheeks. You look over the banks of the Wye, unsurprised at how high the river is this after the recent rainfall. You can just about make out the cathedral on the far bank, it’s an oddly romantic scene.

I must be fucking baked.

You think to yourself with a coy smile as you’re jolted back to the here and now as the stranger speaks again.

“What makes you think I’m a soldier, love?”

“A hunch,” you say with a smirk as you turn to face the handsome man, you’re not going to give up your secrets so quicky.

“Oh?” he smiles right back as he pats his many pockets, looking for a lighter, “Enlighten me?”

“You’re not local,” you start as you watch him grow more frustrated, the furrow in his brow endearing, “At least, not in the traditional sense, accents all wrong,” you say slowly as you reach into your pocket for your own lighter.

“Go on,” he grumbles as he looks to you with a silent plea for help etched on his face. You toss him your lighter as you tease your spliff back to life, you caught it just before the last embers had died.

“Your choice of smoke is the dead giveaway thought, you’re not stuffy enough to be one of the local rich pricks, so it’s soldier or hipster,” you say with a breathy exhale as he rests the cigar between his plush lips. You swallow dryly as you look down to see your glass empty.

“Good observational skills,” he says with a smile as he ignites the lighter, “I’m committed to this the moment I light up,” he warns as he takes your lighter from your outstretched hand, “Fancy sticking around and keeping this old Captain company?”

“Fuckin’ knew it,” you smile in triumph as you nod, “And yeah, I’ve got nowhere to be.”

He cocks his head to the side for a second before nodding in appreciation, he slowly lights the cigar, fingertips gently rolling it around to get the right heat distribution. You’re mesmerised as you watch him work.

“Thanks,” he says softly, his fingers brush yours as he gives you back your lighter. You pocket it without a word. There’s a tension churning in your gut as you try not to get your hopes up.

“Want another round?” He asks as he finishes the amber liquid in his glass, “I’m buying.”

“Sure, I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you nod as he passes you his cigar.

“For safe keeping, you’re welcome to some if you want,” he says with a wink before heading back into the pub. You’re left to your thoughts, as you try to decide if you should shoot your shot with him or not. You’re desperate for a good lay, but there’s something about him that makes you want more than that. You’re not sure you could deal with the bitter aftertaste of a one-night stand with him with no promise of seeing him again.

You shake off the creeping negative thoughts as you refocus on the here and now, you place the cigar between your lips and take a short, tentative puff. It’s rich, the flavour coating your tongue with warm woody notes and hints of coffee.

You’re warm, fuzzy even, as you imagine what it would be like to kiss him. You wonder if he would taste like the cigar trapped between your lips as you take another slow, savouring pull. Or would he melt on your mouth like the rich, peaty whiskey you assume he drinks. You can make believe, even if you may never find out.

You hear the patio door open and close once more, you’re about to make a silly quip about getting back here double time when you hear an unfamiliar Scottish lilt in place of your cockney companion.

“So, you’re the reason Price is rushin’ to get out of his birthday party.”

You snub out the last dregs of your joint on the ashtray as you try not to snort at the Scot. First a man with mutton chops, now one with a mohawk? You couldn’t make this shit up.

“Price?” You ask a little fuzzily, the high blurring things around the edges a little as you try and connect the very obvious dots, “Oh, you mean John?”

“Oh, la-dee-dah, he’s given you his name and his cigar, that’s practically betrothal right there, lass,” The Scot barks out a laugh as he flops back against the low wall, grinning at you like a Cheshire cat.

“Respectfully,” you roll your eyes as you bring the cigar to your lips but don’t take another drag as you eye up the objectively attractive man, “I’m not interested in the dick waving, negging, or whatever this is.”

He’s in jeans and a Metallica t-shirt, he’s similarly strong and broad to Price, with ice-blue eyes. You wonder scathingly if the SAS has a beauty standard these days.

“Ouch,” He groans, clutching at his heart as if you’d physically wounded him, “I can see why he’s so giddy, he likes them feisty.”

“Alright, piss off,” you grumble, mood souring at the overly familiar ribbing from the stranger, it screams of boys will be boys or some other misogyny-riddled play. Sending the asshole friend out to rile you up so Price can sweep you off your feet, big strong Captain to the rescue.

“Ah, hen, I didn’t mean t’ upset you,” he starts but you can’t shake the ick, this was a mistake.

“Save it,” you say as you rest the cigar on the ash tray, “Asshole.”

“Fuck,” you hear the Scot groan as you slip down the side steps that lead down to the near bank of the river.

Maybe it’s because you’re high and a little jumpy, but you’re not in the mood to be toyed with. There’s a small voice in the back of your mind that thinks you overreacted, that the Scotsman maybe came on a little strong but meant no harm.

But you’ve already made the impulsive decision to leave, following the river back towards your Air BnB where a cold shower and a lumpy bed await. You feel stupid, but know you’ll feel worse if you walk back to the pub now.

Made your bed. Now lie in it.

You scold yourself inwardly as you slow your pace from an angry lurch to a pitiful bimble. You’re walking for a while before you realise you should have gotten back to the red back door of the riverside property you’re staying at already. You pull out your phone, bringing up the address of the Air BnB on Maps. You watch as the GPS calibrates and your stomach drops.

You’re going the wrong way.

You’re rooted to the spot, caught between the river and the prospect of trying to navigate the winding residential streets of Hereford. You know Uber doesn’t operate in the area, and you don’t fancy tracking down one of the Beryl Bikes to cycle back through the small town. You know it’s a straight route from here to the property if you just suck it up and risk being spotted on your way back past the pub.

“Fuck it,” you grumble to yourself as you turn back around, power-walking back the way you came, knowing it’s the logical, and most direct route back to your accommodation.

You’re passing back by the pub when you hear the commotion, you almost ignore it, but you hear John’s voice loud and clear.

“She was nice, Soap, did you really have to scare her off?”

You pause, hidden from view above as you see John leaning back against the balcony wall where you had been only minutes before. His back is turned to you as he chews out someone further in on the terrace - you guess the Scot from before.

“I’m sorry, I was just havin’ a bit of fun, didn’t think she’d scarper like that,” he admits and you think you hear remorse in his heavily accented lilt.

“Well, you thought wrong, fuckin’ hell,” John turns around at the last minute, just as you’re about to leave and his eyes meet yours in the murky gloom of dusk. You smile up at him before forcing yourself to walk on, a small part of you hopes he follows you.

“Goin’ for a walk, I’ll deal with you later,” you hear him as you maintain a casual pace, the sound of the river gurgling in your ears as you breathe in the cool night air.

It doesn’t take long for John to catch up to you, a gentle call of your name giving you pause as you wait for him to level with you.

“Hey,” he says with a sigh as he keeps a respectable distance, “Sorry about Johnny, he’s… full on.”

“Johnny?” You laugh, “You SAS boys share names these days?”

“Just a funny coincidence,” John says with a shrug as he matches your pace, “I am sorry though, truly.”

“Appreciate it,” you hum as you look ahead, not trusting yourself to make eye contact, “But I’m not fucking you tonight, I hope you know that.”

“Reasonable,” he chuckles, “Can I at least walk you home?”

“Sure,” you shrug as you feel the flutter of excitement deep in your chest.

“So, you local, or?” He asks as you see the amber glow of his cigar in your periphery, the taste still lingers rich and heavy on your tongue from earlier.

“Just visiting,” you say as you spot the red door up ahead, dread forming in the pit of your stomach as the inevitable end of the night looms over you. John doesn’t press further, and you feel a little dejected as you realise, he may have just been being nice.

“Well this is me,” you say as you pause at a small wrought iron gate, “Walk me to the door?”

You bite your lip, it’s cheesy, but you’re grasping at any extra time you can here.

“Sure,” his lips quirk up around his cigar as he opens the gate, holding it for you as you slip past.

His presence behind you as you ascend the short flight of stairs has the hair on the back of your neck standing up.

“Thank you for walking me home,” you say softly as you linger on the stoop, John hovering on the top step as he looks from your lips to your eyes in a brief flash. Blink and you would have missed it.

“Any time,” he says as he plucks the half-smoked cigar from his lips, “If you’re free tomorrow night, I’d like to take you for a proper drink.”

“Bold of you to think I’m interested,” you smirk as you take half a step towards him, “But yes, I’d like that.”

He lets out a heavy exhale and your cheeks burn with giddy anticipation as you realise he is interested after all. You blame the weed for making you double and triple guess him.

“Can I get your number?” You ask as you pull out your phone to see a message from Kate, you swipe the notification up as you pull up your keypad. John inputs his number and you play out the dance of calling the number to give him yours.

“Tomorrow night then,” John says as he pockets his phone, already turning to descend the steps back onto the riverside.

“Hey,” you call out, fingers circling his wrist as you pull him back to look at you, his deep blue eyes go wide as you fawn up at him, “Happy Birthday.”

You cup his jaw with your other hand and pull his lips against yours. You gasp at the way it feels, like electricity sparking between you as he places his free hand around the back of your neck, holding you to him as he holds his cigar to the side.

Your lips slot together like you’re made for one another and you have to muster every ounce of self-control not to deepen it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you whisper against his lips before slipping from his grasp.

He watches, dumbfounded, as you disappear inside, his cheeks rosy and lips wet as he chuckles to himself. He whistles merrily to himself the whole way back to the pub, messaging you on a whim, wishing you a good night.

~*~

The next morning, John is making his way into the briefing room, distracted enough that he runs into a person he doesn’t immediately recognise.

“Sorry,” he grunts, “Didn’t see you there.”

You turn with a grin on your face as you recognise the sound of his voice.

“Morning Captain,” you say with a wink as you revel in the awestruck look on his face, “Hope you had a good night?”

Smoking a J with Simon Smoking with Soap Smoking with Gaz Smoking with Kate Price Masterlist | CoD Masterlist | AO3

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daordinarylinchen · 2 days

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🎤: ..and we will use it as a tool of war to restore glory to russia🎵🎵

#ibispaintx #fanart #call of duty modern warfare #cod modern warfare #call of duty #cod mwiii #call of duty makarov #cod makarov #vladimir makarov #andrei nolan #cod nolan #makandrei #makanolan

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lovifie · 2 days

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Thinking about

Competitive Kyle "Garrick" Gaz

Enlisting at the same time and becoming friends since day one. Always coming first on every classification, one week you're first, next week it's him.

People think you two are friends because you are always at the top, until they stop to look and realise is the other way around. The only reason you two are always at the top is because you are friends.

Best friends.

Always competing with each other.

There are like 30 other soldiers in the same training squad, still Kyle and you only have eyes for each other.

Running side by side, sparring is always a tie, beating each other records every single time. Every new challenge is just an opportunity to beat each other.

But Kyle is a mean winner, and whenever he starts to collect a couple of wins he grows cocky. Good thing you know perfectly fine how to humble him.

Late at night in your room, 69ing together, still competing to see who can get each other off first with you on top. And Kyle still tries to win, he truly does; until you pull back the skin of his twitching cock, curling your tongue around his bulbous tip and along his slit that has him curling his toes and moaning your name.

You are also mean about it, keeping your hips high enough so he can't reach, and sucking his balls into your mouth so he doesn't have the strength to pull you down. Taking your time to swallow his thick cock, sliding down your throat as you moan making the vibrations travel up from his dick to his ears.

He looks like he's strapped to the bed, unable to lift a finger as you hollow your check to suck him harder, your hand massaging his thick member and heavy balls.

The only time he stops moaning is right before painting your throat white with the thick spurs of his seed, erupting again in breathy whine and loud moans right as he does. You let go of his dick with a sonorous POP, turning to lay next to him, licking your lips clean as you look at his exhausted face.

"Who's the best, Garrick?"

"You are, ma'am."

"Good boy."

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simonzmama · 3 days

Text

pls jus hear me out 🙏

it was a slow day, air filled with slightly sour smell of coffee beans yet it was tainted with the sweet smell of contrasting sugar. it was a scent that welcomed you, like home almost.

so when the bell chattered away above the door, you were quick to look up. in doing so, you were greeted with the mass of a man that was terrifying. the air around you runs cold the second the soles of his boots hit the floor, goosebumps rising along the seams of your skin. there was a sudden change in atmosphere, an aura hovering around the edges of this man. yet, it was no good, no, it felt dangerous, deadly.

your eyes traced this man, every inch of his towering being. from the boots, to the black of his cargos, to the holster strapped round his heavyset hips, the vest strapped over his black tee. n to top it off, the peeling white skull painted against his balaclava, the points of his cheeks hugged up against the thin material.

your breath practically caught up in your throat, eyes wide in a trance of utter awe. yet, you were quick to recover (or were you though? lol) as he stepped up to the counter. everything about this man oozed confidence, his posture, his walk, absolutely everything.

“you just gon’ keep starin’ or take ma’ order like yr’supposed to?” n his voice rang out deep, a soft rasp tickling the back of his throat. good god, thank fuckin heavens you were on shift today.

“uh- uh of course,” you laugh softly, eyes rolling in feigned annoyance, or more like deep embarrassment. you can feel your cheeks light up, the skin beginning to burn hot. you just pray it’s not as noticeable as it feels. “well, what would you like?”

“a large black with a hint of cream…” n as his words trailed off so did his eyes. they scanned over the perk of your cheeks, the way your lips stretched into such a wide smile, he was sure they were bout to split. n then the hazel of his eyes landed upon yours; whether or not you’d like to admit it, a tension built, and suddenly the thermostat rang much too high.

“i- uhm is that it?” you breathed out before a soft anxious chuckle poured free off your lips, head tilting slightly. it was a sweet laugh bordering a giggle he wanted to pull from you again, one he wanted to hear on a daily basis.

he nodded slowly, pulling out a twenty n handing it to you. simon had to admit to himself there was an energy building between you, one he did not have enough time to look into though.

he stepped away from the counter, not even bothering for change. he wanted his coffee and he wanted to leave. no time to take chances.

“your name?” you look over at him, lips pulling into the slightest of smile, yet it was hinted at a frown, that giddy look wiped clean from your pretty eyes.

n as simon let his eyes roll over your plush figure, he let out a sigh. “ghost.”

maybe he could take chances… possibly.

i’m srry wrote this at 6 in the morning n i just luv da concept. tell me it is sucks so i can delete 😂

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greatstormcat · 1 day

Text

Club 141 AU - Part 4

Poly 141 x f!reader

Series Masterlist

This is a fictional depication of BDSM and proper vetting of new partners is essential for everyone. This is a work of fiction and liberties are being taken for the narrative. This (long awaited) part covers CNC/Consenual Not Consent. There is nothing wrong with this as long as it is in the real world context of a carefully negotiated dynamic with correct safeguards. Never let anyone push you to perform something you are not in wholehearted agreement with, and know your limits. Practice RACK: Risk Aware Consensual Kink.

TW: MDNI 18+, BDSM themes, CNC, degradation, forced blowjob, gunplay, bondage, mentions of blood, blindfold/hooding, p in v, rough sex, anal, double penetration, single safeword, no check-ins, aftercare and a hot tub

“You want to hunt me,” you repeat back to Price. It’s not a question, it’s a statement of fact. The man has just spent several minutes explaining to you how over the last few months you’ve settled into your role as the group’s sub perfectly. They were comfortable with you, and you quickly pointed out you were just as comfortable with each of them. You’d indulged in a variety of scenes with them, both individually and in groups, and it was easy to find a flow with the group.

“We want to hunt you,” Price echoes, leaning back in his throne-like armchair, the sounds of the club a distant murmur as you sit opposite him in the private room once again. His eyes watch you sharply, making you feel as though a microscope was pointed at you while you were pinned to a glass slide. Some days you felt he could read your very thoughts with his crytalline stare.

“Only if you’re ready,” Ghost rumbles, ever the one watching for everyone’s safety. He stood, arms crossed over his broad chest and leaning his hip against the back of Price’s leather chair. His gleaming skull mask fixed firmly in place as always, shining as though he took pains to polish the thing. Never once had you seen him without it.

Swallowing thickly, you pause to think, knowing full well that if you rush to agree one of them, if not both, will put the brakes on proceedings. They care that much about you, their precious and beloved submissive.

“How would this work?” you ask, receiving the instant reward of both men relaxing from their previous tense states.

“Good girl,” Ghost mumbles softly but it carries to you and a thrill skitters down your spine in response.

“If you agree,” Price begins, putting emphasis on the first word, “I have a friend who owns a few hundred acres of private land not far from here. There’s a cabinby a lake, with a hot tub.”

“Sounds romantic,” you say with a small smile.

“I suppose it does,” he agrees, leaning forward slightly. “Kyle explained we were in the military together, yes?”

“He did, that’s why they call you Captain,” you reply.

“That’s right,” Price smiles. “We still have some equipment, and a lot of experience in tracking people who don’t want to be caught.” A light enters his eyes as he speaks, an intensity you’ve come to know well, often when he has you by the throat and is promising you all manners of pleasure and pain.

“I understand,” you say, aware he has paused to check you are taking this in. Your breathing quickens as you hang on his every word.

“We would take you to a point in the woods near there and set you free, your goal being to get back to the cabin without being captured,” Price continues, his voice noticeably deepening. Ghost shifts slightly, making an obvious adjustment to make room for the stiffening of his cock as he listens and watches your reaction.

“What happens if I am captured?” you ask, feeding him the words you know he wants to hear. The leather of the armchair creaks as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees so he is closer to you. Your eyes watch his lips as he speaks, a memory of the taste of cigar smoke and scotch on them makes you salivate.

“What we always did. A captured enemy gets tortured,” he whispers softly, “until they break.”

A while later you sit at the club’s bar, perched on one of the elegant stools as Johnny and Kyle work the bar and you try to work through Price’s proposition in your head.

“Did they explain the whole thing to you?” Kyle asks as he places a cocktail on the marble top before you. You quickly take a sip to calm your jangling nerves.

“Oh yes, in lurid detail,” you answer, feigning shock and he laughs.

“Is the idea that bad?” he chuckles, his dark eyes warm with humour. “I thought you were a tough bird? Is the thought of us four stalking you through the dark so horrendous?”

You clench your thighs as he speaks, his honeyed voice dripping down your spine and pooling in your pelvis.

“No, not horrendous,” you reply, hoping he didn’t notice you shifting. One look up at him tells you he very clearly did see it, and your face warms with embarrassment.

“So it seems,” he drawls, leaning over the bar towards you. “So you gonna think it over? Give us a proper answer?”

You bite your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment, just as Johnny walks over and looks between the two of you.

“You’re nae influencing her, are ya?” he chuckles, draping his arm over Kyle’s shoulder.

“No, just making sure she understands what’s at stake here,” Kyle grins and stands up, leaning against the other man. The pair look at you, grinning wickedly like a pair of devils trying to seduce you into some sinful act, despite looking as beautiful as angels in the soft light of the club.

“You two are going to be the death of me,” you laugh, feeling your face warming.

“What a way to go, eh?” Johnny winks back at you.

On Price’s insistence you take a few days to make your decision, and take the chance to talk it through with him, making sure you understand exactly what this will entail. The more you learn, and the more you read up, the more you want to experience this with them. Once you agree, you book a few days off work and they make the arrangements to rent the cabin and drive you up there. Its a warm summer day as you pull up at the cabin beside the lake, a few small outbuildings nearby and the promised hot tub positioned beside the small building on the lake side. Dense woodland surrounds everything. It all looks wonderfully romantic and cozy, especially considering the men you are staying here with, which jars against the activity you have planned for the evening.

The sun is just beginning to set a few hours later, you wiggle your toes in your hiking boots and pull on the tops of the socks peeking over the tops of them, the cool air pricking your skin. Price had warned you not to wear anything you were fond of, explaining clothes were unlikely to survive this scene, so you’d opted for an old sports bra and second favourite knickers, plus a plain white tee-shirt and some loose gym shorts. You hoped that as plain and simple as the look was, it was still appealing.

“You’re sure you’re ready for this?” Price asks you, and you try not to look at him but he grasps your chin and turns your face towards him, forcing eye contact. The dark fatigues he is wearing make him look larger than normal, and the look in his eye tells you exactly how he is feeling about the idea of hunting you. Fear and arousal mix in your gut already, and you haven’t even seen the others or started yet.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you say firmly, knowing anything less will be questioned. You want to do this.

“Just like we went over at the club there will be no checking in during this scene once it starts. You have one safe word and that ends everything, understood?” His voice is firm, unwavering.

“I understand,” you confirm with what you hope is equal conviction. You glance around, the other three are nowhere to be seen, but they are watching you from somewhere close by.

“Okay, you get a ten minute head start and then we come after you,” he says, taking a step back. “The cabin is that way.”

You hesitate for a moment, uncertain on what to do, but he doesn’t seem inclined to speak further. Instead he turns his back on you and walks towards the car he had brought you out here in, not looking back.

With a quiet huff you take off at a trot in the direction Price had indicated, the fading light hampered by the dense coverage from the tree canopy above and adding to the gloom. Watching where you go, you try to count the seconds to the ten minute mark, trying to gauge when the hunt will begin. Your heart beats loudly, almost drowning out the idyllic sound of birds singing in the evening air.

Any more thoughts end abruptly when the sound of a gun firing behind you tears through the air. Small birds and animals startle around you, and you freeze much like a frightened deer. However, when the sound of sharp whistles and excited yelling begins behind you, your muscles burst back into life.

They have guns, why do they have guns, you repeat to yourself over and over as you scramble forward. Panic seeping icy fingers into you, slowing you when it should be spurring you on, to get away from them. The fear thaws when it reaches that small part of your brain that understands this is a game though, it pulses red hot and whispers to you to let them catch you, to see what will happen when you fall.

You start to run out of breath just as you make it to the edge of the lake through the trees. The lights from the cabin glow warmly in the distance, and you pick up the pace feeling more confident now you can see your goal. A smile begins to creep across your face, the big, bad soldiers were clearly rusty after all these years. They hadn’t even got close to you, in fact, the head start was probably too much.

The light has faded enough now that the trunks of the trees are nothing but dark shadows under the canopy of leaves. It’s almost peaceful, no others sounds over the rustling of leaves and your own footsteps. You slow down, considering waiting for the guys to catch up so the game isn’t wasted, when a tall figure detaches from the shadows ahead of you.

A red mask covers the top part of his face, a Mohawk standing up above, and despite the obvious signs of it being Johnny, you feel terror. He’s wearing combat gear, some kind of rifle held in his hands and pointing at your feet. This isn’t your friend, your Dominant, this is a man trained to kill and you can see it in the way he carries himself as he steps forward. You spin on the spot and go to run back the way you came, but stop dead in your tracks.

The Grim Reaper is waiting for you, tall and dressed in black with a hood up around his skull face. He strides towards, an arm raised to grab you, but your body takes over and you dart to the side into the trees once more.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” you whisper to yourself as you run through the low undergrowth, clumsy and undignified. Plunging madly through the woods now, a tiny part of your mind wondering how they caught up with you without you hearing them. This makes you realise exactly what you’re up against, these are trained soldiers. You truly are fucked.

As you run, a shadow separates from a tall shrub ahead of you and sprints towards you, low and deadly. You try to turn but arms wrap around your waist, swinging you around and throwing you off balance completely. You hit the ground face down, breath knocked from your lungs just as a heavy body lands on your back. Instinctively your wail in dismay, the man on your back grabbing your throat and squeezing at the same moment, his hips grinding viciously against your backside so you feel his hard length.

“You lose,” Kyle's voice growls into your ear as a canvas sack is pulled over your head, your arms wrenched roughly behind you back and held firmly in a gloved hand. “Up.”

He drags you to your feet, cold metal presses against your neck under the edge of the hood, and there’s a sharp click. A sound you’ve heard in movies enough times to recognise it, a gun. A bubbling whine of terror creeps up your throat, and escapes into the darkness of the hood. The answering growl twists the fear and turns it into something else, something hot and sharp that spikes into your gut. Arousal.

“Walk,” he sneers, and you rely on him to guide you through the undergrowth.

You stumble blindly, disorientation adding an extra level to your confusion, as you are half march, half drag you somewhere. The change in flooring and slam of a door lets you know you are inside a building, but it's impossible to know where you are. The sound of heavy boots on a rough floor echo around you, and you are dumped unceremoniously in a chair with thin arm-rests. You flinch at the loud noise of tape being pulled from a roll, and your wrists and ankles are secured to the chair.

The hood is pulled away, bright light blinding you from a lamp shining directly in your face, but this is a short lived issue as a blindfold swiftly covers your eyes. Fingers twist in your hair and yank your head back, pulling a cry from your lips, but this is quickly muffled by the cock that is shoved into your mouth. After a second of confusion, heat floods your chest and you lean into the intrusion, mouth watering around the salty skin.

“Fuck, look at her go!”

“Greedy bitch, she’s gagging for it. Have you not been fed, love?” one of them taunts you.

While insults and jibes are tossed at you, whoever has hold of you by the hair continues to forcefully fuck your face, their hips grinding his cock further and further into your throat until you feel the edge of you gag reflex tightening. You focus on breathing steadily through your nose, feeling drool seeping around the thick shaft and onto your chest. Before long your thin tee is sticking to you, no doubt showing your bra underneath.

“Fuck, lemme in on that.” The Scottish lilt identifies Johnny easily. It’s all the warning you get before your head is roughly grabbed and turned to the other side, a few seconds to breathe freely are given before another cock slams into your mouth as you gasp for air.

“Oh fuck, yeah that’s good,” the new comer grunts, twisting your hair to add sharp pain to the mix. You whimper, and his rhythm falters slightly at the sound buzzing your throat around the head of his dick. “Ughh…” he grunts, and he shifts his weight momentarily before the cold press of metal returns, this time against your temple. A tremble runs down your spine and ends with a clenching of your pussy, a half whimper, half moan leaves you and his hiss is audible at your reactions.

“Shit, you like that you nasty slut?” Johnny’s thrust become harsher, his grip on your head tight and almost painful as the gun presses into your skin. Drool runs around his shaft, leaking down your chin, and his huffs of breath shorten.

“Ya gonna swallow every drop,” he mutters. “Don’t waste any of what I give ya.” His breaths become moans, more and more desperate as he chases his high and before much longer he comes. You're forced to swallow or choke, and you suck down the thick strings of cum.

“Enough, get her out of the chair and strip her,” Ghost’s gravely voice orders, and quickly both gun and dick are gone, leaving you coughing and gasping.

The tape binding you to the chair snaps, a cold blade touching your skin as it is cut and a taste of freedom hits you. Despite the blindfold you try to bolt from the chair, determined to play your part in this fully and try to escape.

“Fucking bitch! Get her down,” Price barks in anger.

“No!” you scream as you feel a heavy body tackle you down. Under the oppressive weight you kick and struggle, gasping for breath through the pressure of whichever one of them holds you down.

“Stupid cunt, you’ll get what’s coming to ya now,” Johnny’s voice hisses. Hands pull you boots and socks off, your shorts quickly following despite your wild kicks. You feel one foot connect with one of them, a triumphant smile crossing your lips at the muffled grunt this causes, but strong hands catch your ankles, pulling them wide and pinning them to the floor. Your exposed pussy pulses, wet and hot in the cold air, and the sound of a zip cuts through the air.

“She fucking kicked me, I go first,” Kyle complains, and someone huffs a short laugh in answer. Again you try to fight, kick and struggle, but each limb is pinned to the rough floor and you only scrape yourself against the wood planks. Kyle kneels between your thighs, his body covering you and then his cock spears into you, stretching you wide.

“Stop!” you whine, the wrongness of the word on your tongue making your pussy clench tighter. He doesn’t hesitate, ignoring your plea and goes right to a pounding, punishing rhythm, curling over you so his grunts and groans play out beside your ear.

“Don’t fight, it’s too late for that now,” Kyle’s voice drips into your ear, and that part of your brain that grips to the reality that this isn’t real purrs back to life, quelling the panic slightly.

“Blind fold off, I want to see her face properly,” you hear Price bark, a note of authority in his voice you’ve not heard before and the rawness of the situation hits you. They are stripped back of all their civility, almost their humanity as they work you over, and you understand the itch that this is scratching for them. The blindfold is pulled away and you blink rapidly, trying to focus on the dark shapes around you. Ghost pins your hands above your head, while Price and Johnny restrain a leg each.

Kyle fucks you mercilessly, the rough fabric of his combat trousers rubbing at your skin and adding more friction, his public bone hitting your clit.

“Such a tight little cunt,” Kyle groans, his hands shifting and pushing up underneath your top and sports bra to squeeze your tits. The brutal swing of his hips doesn’t falter, your body tight as you pull against the hands holding you down and clenching around his thick dick.

The orgasm comes almost out of nowhere, quickly building and releasing within you and slicing through you. It makes you archly sharply off the ground, and Kyle barks hoarsely as he is dragged over the edge with you, burying his load deep inside you with unsteady thrusts.

“Thought you’d last longer than that mate,” Johnny teases as Kyle sits back, breathing heavily.

“Fuck you,” he bites back. “You shot your load quick enough.”

“Can’t blame me with a toy like this,” Johnny answers sinfully.

“Shut up you two,” Ghost interrupts, and you glance up as he releases your wrists and stands. Your legs are shaking, as much as you want to try moving again you don’t think you can. As he stands up and begins to unbuckle his belt, you groan softly. He peels off his vest and shirt, before getting down on the ground beside you, laying on his back. Price and Johnny grip your arms and pull your unresisting body over his, face down.

Sweat slicks your skin as you are pushed down onto Ghost’s chest, and with your legs held apart he sheathes his cock inside your pussy with a single, hard thrust that has you arching your back. The rasping of breath from behind his mask tells you how much the feel of your cunt affects him, hot and pulsing around his cock already.

“Get comfortable, you’ve got more to come yet,” he chuckles darkly, and you notice he is looking over your shoulder. Think fingers press at your exposed asshole, cold liquid smearing across the puckered hold.

"No! Don't, please," you plead weakly, unable to move as Ghost hold you against his chest.

“Shut up,” you hear Price snap close behind you, just before shoving a thick digit inside your arse and working it in and out a few times. Suddenly, the intrusion is removed and you relax slightly.

Before you recover, the head of a meaty, slicked up cock presses against your asshole and pushes inside. It’s like every single nerve fibre between your neck and knees has come to life, and you let out a desperate keen at the pleasure. The fullness of almost being stretched to breaking is intense, and the choppy, rough thrusts of Price working into your backside send your mind blank. You’re no stranger to anal but having them both inside you at once is a whole new sensation.

Without any pause they both begin to pump into you, deep grunts and curses the only sound you can hear. You can’t tell if you’re being ripped apart or fucked better than you’ve ever felt in your life. All you can do is try to remember to breathe as you grip onto Ghost biceps, fingernails cutting into his skin and drawing tiny trickles of blood. Your cries build and crescendo into frenzied noises, your sensitive nerves alive and running with liquid lightning as the two men push you further and further.

The orgasm that rips through you steals your hearing and vision, your brain turns to pure nothingness for a few seconds and you forget to breathe as hot ecstasy tears through every cell of your body. Your exhausted muscles spasm, gripping and milking Price and Ghost’s cocks, pushing them over the edge so they both come, filling you with thick, sticky ropes of spend inside you. Twitching and spasming you fall limp between them, unable to move or speak.

“Right, red,” Ghost announces softly, just audible over the ringing in your ears. Price carefully pulls out of you, a whimper slipping from your lips as he does and a shock of sensitivity shooting through you. Ghost does the same but lays still, cradling you against his chest, his wide palm smoothing up and down your skin slowly. “It’s over now, you did well.”

You burrow into him, pushing your sweat streaked face against his neck with I deep exhale, his arms pulling you tightly against him and his deep voice vibrates through his chest and into you as he talks you down. Your heart rate slows down and breathing evens out, floating in a fog inside your own head.

“That was insane,” Kyle says quietly as he crouches beside you, mask removed now, and touches your shoulder. You peer at him hazily through your lashes, a hint of smile on your lips. He puts a backpack down beside you and Ghost and opens it, pulling out bottles of sports drink, a small first aid kit and finally a tightly wrapped blanket which he opens and drops over you gently.

Slowly and carefully Ghost gets you up and gets you to drink, then gets you up. Blinking, you look around and take in your surroundings finally. It’s a small garage, the one you’d seen beside the cabin earlier in the day. Once they’re happy you are okay then clean you up and walk you out of the garage, wrapped in the soft blanket.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Price asks again, for maybe the fifth time, and you smile groggily and nod.

“I’m fine, just a bit shaky,” you tell him again, the pride and bliss burning inside of you is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. “I want to get into the hot tub, can we?”

“Right now you can have anything you want, hen,” Johnny answers without a thought and trots ahead to get the cover off the tub.

“Absolutely, anything,” Price grins, satisfied with your reply now.

It’s crowded in the hot tub with so many large bodies in it, and you get jostled around as each of them tries to be the one beside you. In the end, you find yourself sitting on someone’s lap, thick thighs and strong arms cradling you against a broad chest in the warm, bubbling water. Your head lolls against his shoulder peacefully but after a moment you blink open your eyes tiredly, the pleasant buzzing of the water massaging your aching limbs.

You look up into Ghost’s unmasked face, and you grin.

“Hi, Ghost,” you say, feeling a little foolish afterwards, but his smile settles your nerves.

“Call me Simon,” he grins back, a scar making it slightly crooked. “You’ve more than earned it now.”

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Thank you for reading! If you want to see more from me in the future please reblog or leave a comment to show your appreciation, I also have Ko-Fi. There is no taglist, you'll need to follow for future posts.

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