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cordeliawhohung · 3 months

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Siren

mafia!Gaz x fem!Reader | no major warnings, mentions of alcohol |

mafia!141

this was out of kyle's area of expertise. good thing you were there to pick up his mess.

When Kyle was a child, his father would point out his mother to him on the TV. She was an easy woman to recognize with her perfectly pressed suit and kind eyes and smile. When she gave speeches, she spoke with such eloquence that even in his young age Kyle understood that she was a woman who held insurmountable power. Yet, despite her influence as the most popular and well liked politician in all of England, she couldn’t shine bright enough to blind the nation from the stain that was her son; a bastard child born out of infidelity. It’s why he only ever saw his mother through a screen as a child.

He wondered what she would think if she caught sight of him in that strip club.

Not that he was there for pleasure of course. If he wanted loud music and annoyingly drunk patrons he would have gone to John Price’s club; at least he would have gotten free alcohol there. And there would have been less tits in his face, not that he was one to complain, but that wasn’t the reason he was there.

It wasn’t often that Price assigned Kyle to “field missions.” Usually, whenever a favor was needed from him, he was asked to have a polite conversation with a politician or two, or perhaps influence his mother’s ability in the political field to make things easier on Price and his business. But this? Track down a rival mafia member to steal some USB theoretically hiding somewhere on his person? Impossible. But of course Riley would have drawn too much attention, being as much of an eyesore as he was, and Soap was busy wreaking havoc elsewhere, why not send poor little Kyle Garrick?

Bastards owed him a pint.

Through the flashing lights and a sea of bodies, Kyle caught sight of his target meandering through the crowd on the far side of the room. He stood a head shorter than he expected, and it appeared as if he attempted to compensate for it by having two large and brutish bodyguards trail behind him. How he was supposed to get past blokes as big as them and steal that USB was beyond him, and he wasn’t sure he would have the time to figure it out.

Maybe he should have called it quits and gone home. Tell Price he would have to send someone else after the creep, that the mission was too far out of his expertise. He was certain there were some other baby faced members of the family who would do significantly better than he could. Besides, it wasn’t like Kyle actually worked for the man, he was just doing him a favor.

Then again, failure was never really an option.

With a deep breath, Kyle worked up the courage to finally push himself off of the wall he had leaned against for the past half hour. Whatever half-cocked plan brewed in his head needed to be executed quickly, because he knew his target wouldn’t linger for much longer. But the poor man could hardly walk forward two steps before a hand on his chest gently halted his movements.

A pretty thing in platform heels sauntered in front of Kyle and blocked him from his pursuit. She fluttered her eyes at him with lashes so long they must have been fake, and there was something about her hair that seemed too shiny, like she wore a wig. Her outfit left nothing to the imagination, which was pretty standard for a stripper, and she certainly used that to her advantage as she pressed her chest against his side.

“Hey handsome. You look lonely,” she greeted him. Her voice was honeyed, too sickly sweet to have any sort of good intention.

“Just passing through,” Kyle said as he attempted to shake her off.

Like a siren with her eyes set on a ship, she wasn’t too keen on letting him go. Her hand slipped from his chest and down to his waistband where her fingers caught on his belt loops. Much too intimate, for his liking. Each second he wasted with her was another second the target was able to utilize to get away, and Kyle certainly didn’t have the upper hand.

“No one ever just passes through here,” she said with a chuckle. “Besides, it’s not often we get cute things like you here. Gets a little tiring performing for disgusting old men all the time. But you? I could give you a special show in the back.”

There was something about her scent that left Kyle’s mind spinning and he felt an uncomfortable heat rise up his neck and into his face. Maybe she really was a siren, some sea witch attempting to lure him to his death with saccharine promises. With gritted teeth, Kyle reached for her wrist and pulled her hand off of him, and despite his rather rough treatment with her, the woman didn’t seem fazed at all.

“Not interested, love,” he said, his words more biting than he intended them to be.

She gave him a knowing smile as she pulled her hand out of his loosened grip before shrugging. “Have it your way.”

She vanished into the crowd of the club just as quickly as she had appeared, and it was only then that Kyle realized she wasn’t the only thing that was out of sight. His target, that man with the USB, was long gone. Desperate, he weaved through the crowd where his dark eyes scanned for any sight of the man, but his efforts were fruitless. All it took was a pretty girl with an oddly addicting scent to throw him off of his game.

Price was going to be pissed.

Riley waited for him in the same place where he was dropped off with a cigarette hanging lazily out of his mouth. The parking lot was dark due to several broken and poorly lit lights, giving a less than inviting aura to the area. Had Kyle not known the man previously, he would have never dared to venture too close to the lot with the way Riley brooded in the darkest corner.

“Well?” Riley questioned as he exhaled a long puff of smoke.

“No good,” he replied with a shake of his head. “Couldn’t get close enough with his bodyguards breathing down his damn neck.”

Nodding, Riley flicked a bit of ash off the tip of his cigarette. “Spectacular,” he said, voice heavily laced with sarcasm.

“I dunno what you guys expected from me!” Kyle defended. “I don’t have the fucking training for this. If you wanted the job done properly, you should’ve gotten someone else.”

The two men bickered back and forth for what felt like an eternity, pointing fingers and throwing sarcastic comments at one another. He didn’t want to do the job in the first place, and really only agreed to it because Price had a way of convincing him otherwise. It wasn’t until Kyle heard the familiar click-clack of heels on the parking lot pavement that both men fell silent. Riley’s eyes focused somewhere in the distance, and the expression on his face morphed into something utterly unimpressed as he tossed the butt of his cigarette on the ground.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered.

Emerging from the darkness, you approached the two men hiding in the lot with as much poise and confidence as you had approached Kyle with earlier in the club. Your smile was just as sickly sweet as it had been, and your chuckle echoed dully in the empty space as you pulled your pea coat around your body to save your exposed skin from the night air.

“Evening, gentlemen,” you greeted.

Kyle’s head snapped to the side at the sound of your voice and he nearly groaned in frustration at the sight of you. All of his efforts and awkward time spent in that club had gone to waste because of your meddling, and it wasn’t until that moment that he realized you had done it on purpose. You had been a distraction, an obstacle to prevent him from completing his task, and now you came to gloat.

“What do you want, Junior?” Riley questioned, jaw tense.

“A proper set of clothes, for starters,” you scoffed. “Perhaps a shot or two, or excedrin to get rid of this raging headache from that piss poor music.”

“That’s not what I asked you,” he countered.

You stopped walking once you had fully approached the boys and you tilted your head at Riley with a deep sigh. Not even the night air could cover up the intoxicating scent of your perfume, and it seemed all too attracted to Kyle’s nostrils, and he felt himself growing dizzy again.

“Never good at taking jokes, are you?” you asked facetiously.

Riley’s silence made you sigh and roll your eyes at his stubbornness, and seemingly bored, you turned your attention to Kyle. It only took a single swift step before you were at his side with your hands once again on his waistband. Confused, Kyle grabbed your wrist and yanked you off of him, an effort that only made you chuckle.

“Excuse me?” he asked, heated.

“Relax, love,” you said, throwing back the pet name he had used for you previously. “Just retrieving something out of your pocket. It’s hard to carry things around in this outfit. Doesn’t exactly have the best pockets. Figured I’d borrow yours.”

Before he could stop you, you reached into his pocket with your other hand and pulled out a small USB. In an attempt to prove your innocence, you dangled the item in front of his face with a grin, but in reality he was too busy trying to fight off that odd heat in his body at the smell of you.

“Pheromone perfume, Garrick,” you said simply as you gestured to your neck. “I find it’s significantly easier to do my work if the men in my way are too dazed to do anything stupid.”

You backed away from him with a simple sigh before you tossed the USB towards Riley, who caught it one handed against his chest. He glared at you in what you could only assume was his strange way of thanking you, and it took everything in you not to roll your eyes again.

“How did you know my name?” Kyle asked breathlessly.

You returned your arms snugly around your waist with a chuckle. “I’d be stupid to not do my homework on someone of your status. Big fan of your mum, by the way. Her speeches almost make me believe she gives a damn about this country.”

Speechless didn’t quite explain the sheer surprise Kyle felt in that moment. It was as if he had met a stalker, like you knew him better than he knew himself. The worst thing about it was that he had not even the slightest clue as to who you were. Which, he supposed, was exactly the way you liked it.

“Anyway,” you segwayed while you took a step away from the men, “if Price wishes to tip me for doing your work for you, he knows where to send it to. You boys have a good night.”

Without so much as another word you spun on your obnoxious heels and strolled back towards the darkness of the street, leaving Riley and Kyle there helpless. Mind still spinning, Kyle rubbed at his face with a groan before turning his attention back to his intimidating friend.

“Who the hell was that?” he asked.

“Everyone calls her Junior. Shepherd’s kid,” Riley said with a sigh as he looked down at the USB.

“You’re kidding?” Kyle countered.

“Wish I was. She’s a proper pain in the ass,” he mumbled. “Probably got a good copy of the data off of this before she even snuck it into your pocket. Doin’ daddy’s dirty work for him. Christ.”

Kyle looked back toward the street where you had vanished off to as if the sight of you would make his mind recall your existence any easier. You were an enigma, some truly otherworldly being that managed to make him look like a dunce.

“What’s her name?” he asked, looking back at Riley.

“Fuck if I know,” he grumbled as he shoved the USB in his pocket. “I’m not exactly havin’ tea with her, Garrick.”

Kyle scoffed at the man’s bluntness but otherwise didn’t say anything else. His mind was too busy replaying the events of that night to come up with a proper answer, anyway. You were good at your job, he’d admit that much at least. Your cover, the way you pretended to come onto him in order to sneak the USB out of the club, all of it. Perhaps he shouldn’t have expected anything less of Shepherd’s daughter. He wouldn’t have been surprised if the bastard had trained you since birth.

None of that mattered, though. You knew of his mother, his true family, and you had admitted it so nonchalantly. That knowledge caused an uncomfortable pit to form in his stomach, one that made him curious as to how you happened across that information.

Riley was right about one thing at least, you really were a proper pain in the ass.

#gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #mafia!gaz #mafia!141 #f!reader

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kyriethesquishysquid · 7 months

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When The Lights Go Out (John Price/Fem!Reader)

Summary: Captain Price and our lovely reader are neighbors in an apartment complex. Being a single mom to a four-year-old little girl, the reader tries to deny her feelings for the Captain, too afraid of rejection and ruining their friendship. It seems that fate has other plans for them when the apartment building loses power one fateful night. (Yeah, I’m bad at summaries, sue me lol)

Word count: (Somehow) ~9.5k

A/N: Uhh... sorry this came out a lot longer than I expected lol. Some use of Y/N. Reader’s description is left rather vague but there are details as to her being short, chubby, and with hair long enough to pull back.

TW: Alcohol use. A few angry lines about infidelity of the ex-husband. Porn with minor plot. Romance and smut. Size kink, slight age gap (reader is somewhere around 25ish-30ish), dom/sub themes, M!dom, F!sub, some daddy kink, voice kink, dirty talk, squirting, and loottss of pet names (I’m a whore for pet names) including good girl, princess, darling, love, and daddy.

“This is pathetic,” you muttered glumly.

Throwing back the last bit of wine in your glass, you set it down and started filling it up again. Alone, on a Friday night, drinking at home and daydreaming about your hunk of a neighbor. God, you needed a hobby. Of course, being a single mom and working full time didn’t exactly give you the time to do much anyway, but you always felt the full brunt of loneliness on the few nights you were alone with your thoughts. Emma was with your parents at their beachside home for the weekend and there you were at home, lonely and wishing you had the balls to ask the man down the hall on a date. As you started sipping on your second glass, you let your thoughts wander back to the last time you had seen him a little over a week ago.

…

“Picey! It’s Picey!” Emma’s little voice cheered, drawing your gaze up from your phone.

A flush warmed your cheeks gently when you met your neighbor's eyes as he entered the elevator, empathetically taking in his tired and pensive expression. You managed a little smile and a wave despite the way your heart began racing at the proximity of his form beside yours.

Standing at about six feet tall with broad shoulders and muscular arms that easily rivaled the thickness of your thighs, Captain Price was one of the, if not the, hottest men you’d ever seen. That wasn’t even counting the beautiful mutton chops and mustache combo he sported or the way his intense blue eyes crinkled at the edges when he blessed you with his bright smile. Yeah, safe to say, you were helplessly smitten with the older military man.

“Hey, munchkin!” Price replied, all traces of exhaustion lifting immediately as he ruffled her hair, “Hello, munchkin’s mum.”

“Hello, Captain. It’s good to see you made it home safe,” you said sweetly.

Before he could respond, Emma reached out towards the captain with little grabby hands. There was a moment where you considered pulling your daughter away, not wanting to make Price feel awkward, but then he lifted his hands in waiting. You thought your heart would explode, watching him set the toddler on his hip as if she belonged there naturally while she started babbling to him about cookies.

“Chocolate chip, huh? You’re gonna sneak me some over, aye?” he asked in a conspiratorial whisper, eyes flickering to meet yours with mirth.

“As long as you promise you’re gonna be there tonight,” you replied coyly, “No running out on another mission without telling us, got it?”

Mastering your best stern mom look, you challenged his gaze only for the big man to break into a grin. The two of you had a little system going on. You brought him dinner and sweets on the nights he was home, and he’d let you know when he was heading out of town so you didn’t freak out when you didn’t see him for a while. It started after the first time you’d made the landlord do a wellness check when you hadn’t seen him for over a week. Safe to say, you were mortified when he confronted you about it, but he took it in stride; said it was nice to have someone outside of work looking out for him. This last trip was the first time since then that he’d left without warning and you couldn’t deny that it had made you sick with worry.

“I figured you’d be upset over that but, in my defense, I got the call at two in the mornin’ and I wasn’t about to wake up the lil missus just for that,” he explained.

Your conversation was interrupted by the ding of the lift, gazes turning forward as the doors opened onto your floor. He waved you forward and followed you down to your end of the hall, all the while engaging Emma in a conversation about her newest love- Dora. A pang of sadness tugged at your heartstrings when you stopped at your door and had to unlock it, signaling the end of your impromptu hang-out with the Captain.

“Will you be home around six?” you asked as you took Emma back from him.

“Should be.”

Giving him a little nod, you replied, “Good, expect a delivery around then.”

…

He had to leave that next morning for another mission and still wasn’t back yet. Logically, you knew that he could be gone anywhere from a few days to a couple of months at a time, but that didn’t make you worry any less each time.

“Good god, I need to get laid,” you mused, eyes darting to your phone on the charger, “Would Tinder be worth it?”

You were debating the pros and cons of downloading the dating app when there was a sudden pop and everything went black around you, your dim phone screen the only source of light in your pitch-black apartment. A little scream fled your lips as the darkness immediately closed in around you like an assailant, the shadows mimicking fingers against your skin and evoking terrifying thoughts.

“Shit, shit, shit, fuck, shit!”

Jumping off of the bar stool, you made a mad dash across the kitchen in hopes of finding all the candles you had hiding in the storage closet. Of course, it was just your luck that you forgot that you had left one of the cabinets open just enough to catch your knee, the unexpected impact sending you flying across the floor with a shriek. Almost instantly, you could feel the bruises rising under your skin but even those were nothing compared to the blinding pain across your knee. Stifling curses under your breath, you turned your phone light on again to assess the damage and couldn’t help but whimper at the sight of blood dripping down your leg. A simple gash but painful nonetheless.

“I swear to god, as if tonight couldn’t get any wo-”

The sudden thunder of pounding on your front door almost sent you into another panic until you heard the voice.

“Y/N? Are you okay in there?”

Captain Price. Groaning in relief, you managed to force yourself up to your feet and hobbled over to the door, sliding open the top lock and deadbolt before yanking it open. Jesus, the man seemed even bigger in the dark, his shadowed form dominating the doorway with ease.

“Hey, Price,” you huffed lamely, barely able to make out his face in the dim backup lighting from the hallway.

He moved as if to reach out for you but then suddenly pulled away as if he thought better of it, hands resting on his hips as he looked over you.

“I was comin’ to check on you and the little one when I heard you yell, you alright?” he asked, voice as uncertain as you felt.

“Mm, define alright,” you joked softly, gesturing down to your leg as you flashed your phone light onto the wound, “I panicked when the power went out, and I was going for the candles when I… well, I tripped.”

It sounded much stupider when you said it out loud, you realized. Way to embarrass yourself in front of the hottest guy alive, self. He cleared his throat and you quickly turned off the phone in mortification when you realized how much skin you were showing, almost scandalous having been dressed down into a tiny little pajama set for a quiet night alone.

“I- I see,” he muttered quietly, “Do you need help cleanin’ that up?”

Your head nearly spun with whiplash as suggestive thoughts raced through your brain but you managed a little shrug after a moment.

“If you don’t mind, sure, I wouldn’t be opposed to the company anyway. I hate the dark,” you admitted softly.

Thankfully, he didn’t comment on your childish fear, just followed you in and shut the door behind him. You were about to run to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit when his hands were suddenly on your sides, steering you to the kitchen island stool with the firm instruction to ‘sit and relax’.

“I’ll grab the bandages. Where do you keep them?” he asked once you sat.

Cheeks warming, you drew your legs up into the seat and rested your cheek on your knee, wrapping around yourself for protection against the sudden onslaught of lust rocketing through your body. While you logically knew he had to be commanding for his career in the military, hearing that authoritarian tone directed your way was nothing less than arousing.

“First aid kit is in the bathroom, cabinet above the toilet,” you explained, hoping your voice didn’t betray your inner panic.

He stalked off without another word and you immediately wished you could see his form better. The man had an ass that made your knees weak. You were ashamed to think about how often you’d taken sneak peeks as he walked away, or how often you’d pictured riding one of his thick thighs until-

“You said you have candles?”

“Fuck!”

You nearly fell out of your chair as you flinched in reaction to the sudden addition of his voice to your not-so-innocent thoughts of said man. It was obvious he was trying not to let his amusement show but you caught the way his shoulders shook in laughter as he set the kit on the island next to you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he apologized kindly, “Candles?”

Embarrassed and frustrated beyond belief, you told him exactly where the candles were before dragging your wine glass over, hoping to drink away the awkwardness and lust making a home in your stomach. In the time it took him to get back to the island, you had finished your second glass of wine and began to pour a third. You were gonna need all the liquid courage you could get if you were going to survive being alone with him in close quarters for the first time ever. He lit the candles and set them evenly across the island's top, the flames highlighting and shadowing his handsome face in flickering light.

“Alright, let’s see that cut,” he sighed, taking a seat across from you.

A wave of gratefulness swelled in your chest as you realized you had shaved yesterday. No hairy legs to make things worse. That was one point in your favor. Allowing him to take your leg into his hands, you watched intently as he rested your calf against his thigh, fingers tracing gently around the edge of the gash with a sigh.

“Got yourself good, didn’t ya? Good news is you won’t need stitches,” he explained.

“That’s a relief.”

Honestly, you hadn’t even thought about the possibility of stitches. Your lip ached under the pressure of your teeth as you gnawed on the plump flesh in an attempt to calm the blood pounding through your veins. Sure, it wasn’t under the best circumstances, but you’d longed to feel those very fingers on you for months now- and here he was, touching your bare legs, in a dark room lit up romantically by candlelight, staring at you as if… wait, why was he staring?! His lips moved and you belatedly realized he’d been talking to you while you zoned out thinking about all the ways you wanted him to fuck you seven ways from Sunday.

“Sorry, what?” you asked bluntly, a weak smile curling up your lips.

“I said this might sting,” he repeated with a little chuckle, “Just how many glasses of wine have you had there, darlin’?”

Heat lit up your cheeks as you gave a little shrug in response.

“I just started on number three; I’m not drunk,” you assured him.

“Mmhmm.”

He lifted an eyebrow to express his obvious disagreement and, before you could stop it, you poked your tongue out at him teasingly. There was a sudden pause as if the world stilled when his eyes met yours, and you instinctively pulled your tongue back in as something dark passed through his eyes.

“Better watch that tongue now, love,” he rumbled softly.

Fuck, letting him in had definitely been a bad decision. Between the wine circulating in your system, your fear of the dark, and the intimacy of his skin against yours, you were undoubtedly going to make a stupid mistake. Oh but how you wanted to.

Nibbling on your lower lip, you shifted in your seat to allow him to angle your leg up more and quickly quipped, “Or what, sir?”

The way he fumbled the little alcohol packet would have been hilarious if it weren’t for the intense look he pinned you with after. Your laughter died on your lips before it could even exit. It was hard to tell exactly what he was thinking in the dim candlelight but, with the way he was slowly stroking your calf muscle almost subconsciously, you hoped it was good. The silence was deafening. While he wasn’t more than five or ten years older than you, you suddenly felt much younger, much smaller beneath his gaze. Was this his disappointed captain look? Had you actually upset him?

“Uh, s-sorry, sir,” you whispered softly.

He let out a low sigh before suddenly leaning forward, fingers gently touching your chin while his thumb pried your lip free from your teeth.

“I need you to stop bitin’ your lip like that,” he demanded.

It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest, your head swimming on cloud nine, and your skin sparking at every point his body touched yours. You barely managed a little hum of agreement when he tapped your chin softly, obviously expecting an answer. Fuck what you wouldn’t give to kiss him right now.

“Good girl, now, sit back and let me fix you up.”

Every fiber of your being felt on fire and it took all of your might not to moan at that panty-wetting line. He had to know what he was doing, right? Nobody was unintentionally that sexy. Nobody. Swallowing hard, you nodded once and did as told, letting your hands rest on your lap as he cleaned and bandaged up the wound. It was funny. You had almost expected him to have a heavy hand, between his size and his career, but he was nothing short of tender. Almost as if he was afraid he would hurt you.

“There, all done,” he murmured, gently patting your foot but not removing it from his lap, “Does it still hurt?”

Shaking your head quickly, you picked up the mostly empty wine bottle and tilted it his way. There was maybe one glass worth left.

“Drink?” you offered meekly, “As payment for patching me up?”

He was obviously hesitant but finally took it after you shook the bottle insistently at him.

“Yeah! Don’t leave me to drink alone like the fool I am,” you chuckled with a grin, “Glad to see you’re back home safe, by the way.”

“In the nick of time too, it seems,” he hummed warmly.

You nodded in agreement, letting your body relax against the low back of the chair as you sipped on your drink and not-so-subtly eyefucked him. He was dressed down more than usual, neither in his fatigues nor usual casual clothes. And yet somehow he was still the most delectable man you’d ever seen, in his tight black henley and sporty grey sweatpants; maybe even more so than usual. He looked almost approachable like that. You had to wonder if he knew the internet’s obsession with those pants or the reason why. His own ‘physique’ wasn’t lost in your appreciation of how well they fit his massive thighs.

“Where’s kiddo?” he asked suddenly.

It took you a second to understand what he had asked, leaving you to blink owlishly in confusion until it finally registered and a relaxed smile crossed your face.

“My parents took her with them to their beach house this weekend, something about an early birthday gift for her and wanting to give me a “break”,” you snorted, remembering your mom’s exact reasoning.

Lifting your hands into the air, you made air quotes as you mimicked her high-pitched voice.

“Go see one of those young men who keep asking you out at work”, you squeaked before letting out a fake laugh, “As if I’d do that.”

“Why’s that?”

Rolling your eyes, you immediately retorted, “Well, one, I don’t date customers. Sets a bad example for the next guy that wants in my pants. And two, I dunno… I guess I just have a specific type. Besides, there’s only one man I want right now and, well, I’m certain he doesn’t exactly feel the same way.”

A deep warmth crossed your face down your neck, leaving you overheated as you looked over said man lustfully. Hopefully, you weren’t too obvious but, fuck, maybe if you were you’d get an answer. Was chancing your friendship, his connection with Emma, worth the one percent chance he’d fuck you? No, you decided with a frown, it really wasn’t.

Price snorted, took a drink of the wine, and muttered, “Well, that’s just stupid. Either he’s blind or you just don’t know he’s interested.”

“Yeah right, Captain. I’m a single divorced mom. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re not exactly a hot commodity these days. Plus, I’m chubby and out of shape, and he’s like the epitome of godlike,” your words trailed off slowly as you let your eyes run down and up his body pointedly, “Guys like him don’t go for ladies like me, as much as I’m selfish and wish he would.”

The sigh he let out made your heart flutter. God, what would that deep rumble sound like in bed, or was he a quiet one? You hoped he wasn’t. His voice was the epitome of sexual energy and you’d want to hear him talking you through every second.

“It’s John, and you’re blind,” he retorted blandly, earning a confused look from you.

“What do you mean? About myself? No, I’m pretty sure-”

“Oh, fuck it!”

Suddenly your leg was tossed aside when he jumped to his feet, pushing to stand between your thighs as he gripped them tight and dragged you to the edge of the chair until he was slotted perfectly against the apex of your thighs. One hand moved to cup your face and dragged you into a soft kiss, his other digging tight into the plush of your hip.

All you could do was blink in awe. Was- Was this real? Had you passed out when you fell? There was no way Price was kissing you right now.

He pulled back as if he’d been stung and let out a curse.

“Shit, did I misread that?” he asked, brows furrowed in worry.

Eyes wide and mouth parted, you hesitantly reached up and covered his hand with yours, taking in the sensation of his skin against yours.

“Did- Did you just kiss me or am I dreaming?” you asked weakly.

Relief filled his face and you watched as he broke into laughter, shoulders bouncing with the motion as he leaned in again until your eyes could barely focus on his.

“Yes, I kissed you, is that alright, love?”

“More than alright,” you whispered.

This time you were able to react, disbelief thrown to the side to make room for desire. Hands resting gently against his cheeks, you stroked your thumbs along the oddly soft hairs and shivered in excitement. He was gentle and sweet, both everything you’d expected and yet somehow not nearly as rough. You’d always questioned what kind of lover he was, seeing as he was someone with a heart of gold in one of the most dangerous fields of work.

Your thoughts were brought back to the moment when you felt his lips part against yours. Without a second thought, you leaned up and sunk your teeth into his plump lower lip, nearly moaning at the groan he let out in reply. The hand that had been idle on your face wrapped around the nape of your neck and squeezed tight until you released your hold.

“You’re gonna be trouble, aren’t you?” he breathed out huskily, eyes searching your face hungrily.

“No trouble at all,” you replied cheekily.

“Hmm, we’ll see about that,” he scoffed, “Just remember, brats don’t get what they want, aye?”

You could practically feel your body humming and your eyes dilated as you took in a shaky breath.

“I- I won’t be a brat,” you whispered back, comically quiet in the silent room.

“Good girl.”

That was the second time he’d used those words against you. There was definitely more to Price than you’d expected and, god, you wanted to explore it all, but at another time. Right now, the way he praised you felt sweeter than cotton candy on your tongue and you craved that more than breath itself. The saccharine tenderness of his words was replaced with the smoky taste of tobacco and sharp notes of your red wine when his mouth met yours once more.

A little whine escaped your mouth into his when he drew back just enough to bite your lip and sucked softly on the tender flesh. When he finally pulled away, you could only stare at him with adoration.

“You have to stop lookin’ at me like that, princess,” he groaned.

Oh. Oh, that nickname. Fuck, this man was ticking off all your secret kinks without even knowing it.

“Forgive me if I’m a little starstruck,” you replied with a nervous giggle, nails scraping gently along his jaw, “I’ve only been thinking about this for months.”

“Months, huh?” he asked, leveling you with a deadly smirk.

You let out a little breath and nodded, explaining, “Ever since the first time I saw you, even before I knew what a sweetheart you were, all I could imagine was how good it’d feel if you’d pin me up against the wall in the elevator or-”

His groan silenced you immediately, your lips hanging open as you watched entranced by the way his head tipped back.

“Come on, up we go,” he purred suddenly, fingers sliding down to grab your ass.

You instinctively clung to him with a cry of shock when he lifted you from the chair onto his waist, eyes wide as you met his gaze.

“John! Don’t, I’m heav-”

“Princess, I train with men twice your size every day,” he cut you off smoothly, “Believe me when I say your weight is nothin’. Besides, what’s the point in having muscles if not to carry around beautiful women, hmm?”

Warmth flooded your cheeks and you buried your face in his neck, unable to meet his eyes as he said such sweet things. True to his word, he was able to carry you from the kitchen all the way into your bedroom without breaking a sweat. The instant your knees met the bed, he was on you again, lips gently kissing down the soft column of your throat. When he reached the thickest part of the muscle connecting your neck and shoulder, his teeth dug in hard, his lips sucking your sensitive flesh taut until you were nearly clawing at him, afraid he would break the skin. He pulled back with a pop and you deflated against him, whimpering his name breathlessly.

It felt good, really fucking good, but you needed more. Slipping your hands beneath his shirt, you rested your palms against his abdomen and drew the fabric up as you soaked in the feeling of raw power under your fingers.

“Shirt off,” you managed to huff through whimpers, “Please.”

Price jerked back hastily and tore the shirt off, giving you an unintentional but lovely show as he threw it aside. He wasn’t built as in a super compact six-pack, but he was broad, solid, the defining lines of his core muscles showing with each sharp intake of breath. You let your fingers trace over each dip of his obliques, up to his toned shoulders and then back down to rest against the thicket of hair covering his tense pecs as you eyed every inch of bare skin. This man was, undeniably, a fucking god.

Eyes flickering up to meet his, you flashed him a small smile as you leaned forward, copying his previous motions on your neck against his. His low rumble vibrated deliciously against your lips as you made your way down his neck, stopping against his shoulder to suck on the tender flesh and leave a love bite that surely matched the one on you.

He startled a squeak out of you when his hand suddenly came into contact with your ass, the smack loud and sharp in the air.

“I thought you weren’t goin’ to be a brat,” he asked teasingly.

You shot him a pout and replied, “I wasn’t. It’s only fair that I get to leave marks on you if you’re going to leave them on me.”

Lifting a brow, he smirked and shook his head.

“As long as you leave them out of sight,” he compromised after a moment of thought, “Gotta have some kind of professionalism at work.”

At that, your eyes widened and shame lit up your cheeks. You hadn’t thought about that at all. While your hickies could be covered up with makeup, it’s not like you’d really get in trouble for having them at work, but as a soldier- a captain no less- you could only imagine what rules they had there.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think about that! You won’t get in trou-”

“Shh, shh, princess, it’s fine,” he assured you quickly, drawing you up into a gentle kiss, “My shirt’ll cover it.”

“You’re sure?” you asked meekly.

“I promise, you’re fine.”

With one last kiss, he released your face and you went back to your previous task. Now, though, you made sure to keep any biting to areas that would be covered by his clothes. There were little scars scattered across his skin, little reminders that he had been hurt so many times before, and each one made your heart clench with the need to kiss them away. It wasn’t until you reached the drawstring of his sweats that he finally stopped you and pulled you back up.

“Hey,” you groaned in frustration.

“Uh-uh. Don’t pout at me. What do you want, darlin’? I need you to tell me,” he muttered, breath catching in his throat as you slid your fingers across his waistband.

“I want to taste you finally,” you replied, “I’ve dreamed about it for so long.”

His moan would have made you collapse against the bed if he weren’t holding onto your hips so tightly. Fuck, you knew he’d sound good like that.

“First, this shirt comes off,” he replied, fingers hooking under your tank top.

Lifting your arms, you let him tear the fabric away and were rewarded with a guttural moan when his gaze found your bare breasts. You weren’t even given the chance to put your arms back down before he was knelt on the bed, arm hooked around your back to drag you forward with a growl as he pressed open-mouthed kisses against your chest.

“Ah, fuck!” you gasped weakly, fingers sinking into his short hair for support.

“You- are- bloody- gorgeous,” he hissed out between wet kisses, “How you think I could ever resist you baffles me.”

Any embarrassment you would have felt from his comment was washed away the instant his mouth was on your nipple, fingers mimicking the motion on the other one. Each stroke of his tongue across your sensitive bud felt directly connected to your clit. Within moments, you felt both on the brink of orgasm and yet leagues away, your breaths coming out hot and heavy as you pulled him closer still.

“John, please,” you whined, free hand tugging at his pants symbolically.

He grunted, giving a slight shake of his head as he latched onto your breast with fervor, sucking so hard you felt dizzy with need. When he finally pulled back, you almost fell back.

“Head off the end of the bed then, love,” he instructed gently.

It took you a second to organize your thoughts but you finally nodded as he walked around to the end. Laying on your back, you quickly scooted farther down the mattress until your head fell off and you were left face-to-face with his bulge in those damned grey sweats. Oh, what a sight that was. You’d take a picture if you could.

Lifting up just enough to meet his gaze, you hesitantly reached for his pants and asked, “Can I?”

“Go ahead.”

Twisting your hands, you dragged your nails softly down the plains of his abdomen, enjoying the way his muscles clenched against your fingers before you grabbed the waistband and tugged it down. You instinctively froze with an audible gasp as you watched his cock slap against his belly, the tip resting right below his navel. While you could tell he was big through his clothes, you’d underestimated just how big. And fuck was he beautiful, thick and veiny and delectable.

“Jesus fucking Christ, John,” you bit out in disbelief with a laugh, “This is supposed to fit in me?”

Allowing one hand to keep tugging his sweats down, the other came up to wrap around his base. Despite never having been with a man quite as big as him, you knew you could do it, but you also understood it was going to take some getting used to. One wrong move and you’d be in pain for days after.

“Don’t worry, princess, we’ll make it fit,” he purred warmly.

A muted curse left your lips as your core clenched in need. This man was going to be the death of you. Wiggling so your neck was better supported by the edge of the bed, you used your hold on his dick to lead him forward, parting your lips invitingly the moment he was close enough. His taste was overwhelming when he finally pushed between your lips. A hungry moan escaped before you could stop it and your fingers dug into his thighs, urging him forward.

He slowly inched closer, pulling out and sliding back in with each step until he was able to lean over your body, one hand resting beside you on the bed to balance himself while the other busied itself plucking at your nipples. It was hard to take at first, your anxiety telling you that you wouldn’t be able to actually handle his full size, but you breathed through it all and focused on keeping your muscles relaxed.

“Fuck, look at you,” he sighed, scratching his short nails down your stomach, “You’re absolutely stunnin’, love.”

You flinched in surprise when his fingers slipped beneath your shorts but the shock was cut short by rampant desire as he slid his digits along your slit with a groan. The motion flexed his hips forward and buried him further into your mouth, head pressing uncomfortably against your throat.

“Can you take more, darlin’?” he asked softly.

Humming out positively, you quickly swallowed before craning your neck back farther, hoping to open yourself more.

“That’s my girl, relax your throat for me. Tap me if it gets to be too much.”

After letting you take in a deep breath, he began to push deeper. Almost instantly you felt tears flood your eyes. It took every bit of your resolve not to give into the desperate need to gag around him as he pushed in slowly, but you held strong. You’d give everything you could to this man and you wouldn’t complain for a single second.

“Fuck!”

He jerked back suddenly and thrust in just as quickly, then again, until he got comfortable with fucking your mouth. Pressing your tongue against his cock, you were easily lost in the motions, reminding yourself to suck in a breath every other thrust when you could; so lost that you practically jumped into the air when you felt his fingers start moving against your clit. Your entire body melted into the mattress as you gave over to primal desires, brain too full of cotton to do more than allow you to just feel.

“So fuckin’ wet for me, love,” he groaned quietly, “I can’t wait to see how wet you get when I make you come.”

The moan you let out was garbled by his cock but it made him groan your name in return, his hips stuttering in their pace. You nearly whined at the loss of his hand in your shorts but then it was over your neck, wet fingers wrapping around your throat and pressing against the sides as he thrust in as far as possible and held there. You couldn’t breathe, and yet you found you weren’t scared.

“God, look at that. I can see your throat bulgin’ around my cock. I can fuckin’ feel it when I press right here. What a pretty fuckin’ sight you make.”

A broken whine fell from your lips when he pulled back suddenly, leaving your blurry eyes staring at his erection wantingly until he took your hands and guided you up. You were barely upright before his mouth crashed against yours, biting, brutal, and perfect.

“John, please,” you whimpered against his lips, nails finding a home in his arms as you tried to pull him onto the bed.

“I already told you, you need to use your words, princess,” he reminded you firmly.

Wiping away the few tears that had fallen, you nodded and said, “I want you to fuck me, please.”

The smirk that curved up his lips made your heart thump.

“I will, I promise, but not before I have those beautiful thighs wrapped around my head,” he retorted, “Lay down.”

Apparently, you took too long to move in your shock because the next thing you knew, you were shoved back onto the bed. A giggle escaped quietly as you situated the pillow beneath your head but you went silent as you caught the beautiful sight of an entirely naked Captain John Price scaling up the bed over you. Who the fuck gave him the right to be so goddamn gorgeous? He snagged your shorts and tore them off, tossing them away without a second thought before he leaned down over you.

“You and those eyes, darlin’,” he sighed softly, lips pressing softly on your sternum.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

A sharp gasp caught your breath when he turned his head and rubbed his beard against your sensitive skin, teasing across your flesh until he took your hardening peak between his lips, his eyes never leaving yours.

When he released you, there was a twinkle in his gaze.

“I used to tell myself I was just seein’ things, but now, now I know,” he murmured, beard trailing across the expanse of your chest until his mouth was hoving over your other nipple, “You’re eyes are so damn beautiful, so expressive. I can see every thought goin’ on behind them and it drives me crazy.”

You licked your lips nervously and asked, “That’s good, right?”

His response came in the form of a growl as his teeth sunk into your breast, tearing a squeal from your chest as you instinctively arched into his touch.

“Very good. I like seein’ what I do to you.”

Butterflies twitched up a storm in your belly as he slowly kissed down your abdomen, taking care to plant his lips on every little spot, even those you hated. When he lifted your legs up onto his shoulder, you couldn’t help the little whimper you let out, feeling beyond exposed to him, a little overwhelmed by the intimacy. It had been years since you’d been with anyone, since even before your ex-husband had left you and Emma, and now you were here with the sexiest man you’d ever laid eyes on lying between your legs, practically salivating at the chance to eat you out when the man you’d been married to couldn’t even be bothered to do more than stick his dick in. What a fucking upgrade.

“Don’t be quiet, love, I want to hear ya,” he ordered lowly, lips trailing up the inside of your right thigh, “Is that understood?”

“Yes sir,” you whispered back, grinning as you saw the reaction clear in his eyes.

“Good girl.”

He moved slow, so slow that you want to whine and beg him to move faster, but the tingle of his beard and teeth against your skin felt too good. When he finally kissed down your mound and his lips brushed against your slit, you couldn’t hold back a moan.

“That’a girl,” he hummed.

His arms hooked around your legs, pinning them open as one hand dipped to part your lips and his tongue immediately went to the place you craved it most. Instinctively your legs fought to close against the sudden tendrils of pleasure but he easily held them in place.

“Uh-uh, this is mine,” he growled, punctuating his words with a little nibble against your clit.

“Fuck!” you gasped.

Your fingers clung to the sheets for some semblance of restraint as your eyes rolled back and a low moan crawled from your throat. With slow, heavy motions, he lapped at your clit, teasing you up the precipice at a pace that made you delirious for more. Gradually the leisurely licks turned into more precise, quick strokes and you lost your ability to stay silent.

“Please, please more,” you whimpered.

His moan was loud in the quiet room and the heated cadence twisted the knot in your core tighter.

“More what?” he asked huskily.

Though his tongue was no longer at work, he didn’t stop teasing you, letting his fingertips rub your clit oh so gently as he kissed up the inside of your thigh.

“Hmm, princess? Tell me exactly what you want,” he encouraged.

Brows furrowing, you whimpered and battled through the sensations long enough to reply.

“I want you in me,” you gasped.

He chuckled and gave a gentle bite into the meat of your thigh before saying, “I need more to go on. Use your words, little one. What part of me do you want inside of you?”

You slapped a hand over your face in mortification and bit out, “I want your dick in me! Please fuck me!”

“Oh baby, I told you. Not until I’m done with you. You’re going to come undone on my tongue first, then I’ll gladly fuck you.”

Was this man hand-crafted by the gods specifically to give you a heart attack? How did he manage to roll up dominance and sweetness so perfectly? Your thoughts spun out of control when John brought your attention back to him, removing his hold on one of your legs with a little smack to your hip.

“My fingers will have to do for now,” he purred.

Even warned, the breach of his fingers into your cunt set off a miniature explosion. Your walls clamped down tight without thought and your legs shook in restraint as the blissful ecstasy edged rapidly closer. When he added his tongue back into the mix, your brain shut off entirely. Curses and whimpers of desperation filled the air as your nails scrambled for purchase against your breasts.

“Jo-John, fuck yes, please- I-”

“That’s it, love, come for daddy.”

Those words beautifully timed with the flicking of his tongue finally sent you over the edge with a scream. Ecstasy erupted in your core, shocks of pleasure vibrating through your body as he worked you endlessly through it. You instinctively tried to push him away but he snagged your wrist tight, pinning it down against your stomach as he held your hips down against the bed, not giving you even an inch as you thrashed in his hold.

“J-John,l fuckohmygod!”

It was too much, burning and hot and so fucking good. His tongue continued to swirl and dance as he deepened the curl of his fingers with a hungry groan. Before you could stop it, you felt a familiar, debauched pleasure release within. With a cry of shock, you thrashed under him with guilt and indulgence as he pushed you into that rarely achieved euphoria that painted your thighs and his face with slick. It wasn’t until you were frantically jerking at your bonds and begging him through tears, nearly collapsing in on yourself under the stimulation, that he finally drew away with an animalistic growl.

All you could do was lay there, panting and whimpering, and try not to cry like a baby. Never had anyone been able to make you come like that.

“Hey, look at me, princess,” John cooed softly.

You could feel him crawling over you again, his body radiating heat across your rapidly cooling skin, and you instinctively smiled softly at the comfort he brought.

“Love, let me see those beautiful eyes, hmm?” he urged, hand gently stroking your cheek.

After another second or two, you managed to flutter your eyelids open only to find him with worry in his gaze. It was unbearably endearing until you realized just how wet his facial hair was and your cheeks burned hot.

“S-Sorry,” you whispered, reaching up to get rid of the evidence.

John chuckled when he caught your hand before you got anywhere near him, slamming it to the bed beside your head as he leaned in and caught your lips in a soft kiss.

“Don’t ever apologize for enjoying yourself, darlin’,” he replied warmly, “If I didn’t like it, I wouldn’t do it. Fuck, I could live off that sweet little cunt, princess. And the way you say my name? God.”

It felt so weird to hear such good things about yourself and it made you want to shrink away but he was having none of that.

“I need to know if you want to continue. If you want to stop, just say-”

“No! I- I want more,” you cut him off quickly, legs wrapping loosely around his hips, “Please.”

Gone was the worry, replaced by wanton lust as a smirk filled his lips.

“You sure?”

Swallowing hard, you nibbled on your lower lip and whispered, “Please… daddy.”

If you didn't know better, you’d have thought you’d slapped him by the groan he let out, his hips subconsciously grinding against your cunt.

“Oh, uh, it might be a little late but… I’m am clean and I’m on birth control,” you added meekly, shuddering under the heat in his gaze, “I- I got tested after Daz cheated and I haven’t been with anyone since then so… It’s- It’s safe if… I just don’t have condoms so…”

You let your voice trail off awkwardly, his silence worrying you until he let out a low sigh. He stretched forward and pressed his lips to your forehead gently as he murmured your name.

“You’re gonna kill me, you know that?” he murmured, then asked again, “You’re sure?”

“Completely, please, fuck me,” you assured him.

He moaned softly before lifting back up onto his hands, staring down at you with pure unadulterated passion and desire.

“You said it’s been a while, aye?”

When you nodded, he suddenly slipped off to the side, grabbing your hands before you could complain about the loss and drawing you up onto your knees.

“Come, sit on my lap, we’re gonna do it like this so you can control how fast we go,” he explained as he patted his thighs, “Stretched you out a bit but the last thing I wanna do is hurt you, darlin’.”

The thought of sitting on him was less than ideal but you gave into him at his gentle insistence. With his help, you crawled onto his lap, hovering with his cock just against your lips.

“Have you done it this way before?” he asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” you replied shyly.

“Alright, so you’ll start like this, it’ll let you control how deep we go until you’re comfortable, and then once you’re ready, I’ll help you put your legs behind me.”

Your lips quirked up at the mental image and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“I know, it sounds silly, but I promise, it’ll be best for you,” he explained with a boyish grin, “And plus, it’ll let me see your beautiful face and these gorgeous tits.”

With a little nod, you carefully widened your kneeling stance and took hold of his cock, guiding him to your entrance. Just feeling his head against you was enough to light that fire in your core again.

“Oh fuck,” you whimpered as you lowered your hips.

Your nails were sure to leave marks on his shoulders as you held on for deal life, relishing in the burning stretch of your walls accommodating his size. He didn’t seem to be faring much better if the hiss he let out was any indication.

“There you go, slow and steady, princess,” he purred encouragingly, hands resting on your hips to help guide you.

With a surge of confidence, you silenced him with the sudden drop of your hips, groaning when it felt like the air had been knocked out of you. His name came out as a prayer as you wiggled your hips, impatiently trying to get him in inch by inch. It was a good thing you were soaking wet because otherwise, you wouldn’t wanna think about how hard it’d be to get even that far. After a moment, it felt like too much and you had to pause, taking in deep steadying breaths.

“I know, princess, I know. But you’re taking it so fuckin’ well,” John groaned, “Just take your time. There’s no rush, baby.”

Baby. Fuck. Out of all the names, that one felt the most intimate for some reason. It made your toes curl and pushed you past the hump, giving you the power to keep going. Mama didn’t raise no quitter, as the saying goes. A grin crawled across your lips at the look of pure devastation and pleasure that crossed his face when you finally wiggled again. His head fell back and a devilish growl escaped his clenched teeth. Fingers clawed at your plush bottom and held you in place as you teasingly swayed your hips. It was clear you were more than ready before he was, which you’d take as a massive compliment.

“You feel so fucking good, daddy,” you murmured, grabbing one hand and bringing it to your mouth.

Those beautiful crystal blue eyes had barely met yours before you sucked his thumb between your lips and clenched your core tight.

“Fuck!!” he hissed, thighs jumping under yours, “You- God!”

Swirling your tongue around his thumb and sucking on it like a lollipop, you let your hips settle down further, burying him deliciously deeper in your core until there was no more space between you. Your eyelids fluttered shut against the sudden surge of pleasure igniting in your belly, trying to fight it back. You wanted to focus on him. It was just so hard when he filled you to the absolute maximum that your body could handle. Once you didn’t feel so close to the edge, you rocked your hips left and right and back and forth, watching his face closely and soaking up the unrivaled lust that showed.

“Come here, balance on me, and let’s swing this leg out,” he said hoarsely.

With his instruction, you were able to sit with your legs crisscrossed behind his back and it only pushed him that much further into your cunt, your walls greedily sucking in every inch. The moment you were stable, he was quick to advance on the opportunity, free hand palming your back and jerking you toward him with a hungry moan. Before you could react, he had you melting in the palm of his hands, lips hungrily sucking at your left breast while his fingers plucked the right. All your fight, your will to do this entirely on your own, flitted away slowly with each stroke.

When you finally started moving again, you almost came immediately, a panicked gasp catching in your chest at the way your clit rubbed against his pubis. His warm chuckle barely filtered through your haze until his fingers snarled in the hair at the base of your neck and he jerked you into an achingly sweet kiss, his other arm wrapping around your back.

“That’s it, beautiful, just like that,” he cooed gently.

Of all the fantasies you’d had about John, nothing had ever quite stood up to this. There was something more to this than just raw, animalistic sex and it made your heart beat just a little bit harder.

Every rock of your hips was aided by him, drawing you that much closer and easing the strain on your legs. Soft praises spilled from his lips, encouraging little moans telling you how good you felt, how beautiful you were, how he wanted to stay like that forever. It was almost enough to make you cry but the ever-growing pressure in your core kept your senses on high, making your brain focus more on the pleasure than the intimacy you didn’t know you craved from the big man. Your forehead pressed gently against his as your eyes rolled back and you clawed at his shoulders. There was so much to take in, the passion and emotion both physical and mental, and you were starting to lose grip on all facets of control. Thankfully, he seemed to match your sentiment, hands suddenly pulling you to a halt as he let out a groan.

“I want you on hands and knees,” he demanded gruffly, “Can you do that?”

Nodding hastily, you carefully untangled yourself from him and grabbed a pillow, shoving it beneath your hips to help keep you at the perfect angle.

“Tell me you want this,” he demanded gravelly with a sharp smack to your ass.

With a whimper, you wiggled your hips at him and gasped, “I want you in me. Fuck me, please!”

He lined his cock up and immediately slammed in with a heady groan, all sense of worry and compassion gone. Your nails tore into the sheets as he stretched through your walls without hesitation. It was so much at once. That other position had truly babied you against his size. Now, now you were feeling every single fucking inch. Your body instinctively fought against the depths he reached but, mentally, you wanted nothing more than to keep him there for the rest of all time.

“Fuck, oh my god, it’s- mmm- s’too much!”

“Relax, little one. I know it’s a lot,” he purred, hands stroking along your back lovingly.

“Mmmm, yesss. Hurts so good,” you whimpered mindlessly.

“Yeah, but you can take it; can’t you, princess?” he groaned as he started to rock his hips.

Those dirty words were spoken in such a sweet, soothing tone that it made your heart do backflips, a seductive check-in on your mental state and willingness. You nodded against the mattress with a little moan.

“I can- Fuck, I can handle it,” you cried, “Take me, use me.”

He let out a rumbling moan and leaned forward, fingers snarling in your hair and yanking back with a sigh.

“That’s right. This tight little pussy takes me so damn well. Gonna fuck you and make you come so hard you can’t walk afterward,” he snarled.

You felt like a marionette doll, bent and twisted to his desires, and it felt so fucking satisfying. Every stroke of his cock did unbelievable things to that bundle of nerves deep in your core, and as he moved faster, you could feel your climax taking hold.

“Yeahhh, I can feel you tightenin’ love. You feel so fuckin’ good,” he groaned, “That’s it, be a good girl and come for daddy now.”

All at once everything coalesced and your vision went black as your world slammed down around you. As he fucked you from one climax right into the next, you felt the tears you’d been fighting finally fall, streaming down your cheeks under the paralyzing rapture. It felt like it was never-ending but then he pulled out, leaving you a babbling mess.

“Wha-”

Your question was cut off as he grabbed your hips and tossed you over onto your back. The instant you were facing him, he lifted you up and you were quick to wrap your legs around his hips for balance, one hand on the bed and the other hooked around his neck. As he ducked down, you welcomed his kiss as if it were life-saving.

No words were spoken beyond grunts and moans of euphoria but there was no denying the conversation flowing between your bodies. Overwhelming and heart-pounding, desire filled your veins and urged you forward to nibble at his throat.

“Come with me, John, please.”

The cry that left his lips as you bit into his neck was devastating and immediately he buried himself as far as possible into you, sending you over once more as his hips shuddered against yours. You thought mindlessly about how there was no better sensation in the world than the twitching of his cock when he came inside you as you trailed your tongue up his neck with a moan. It was the most primal, instinctive claim one could ever have over another.

“Jesus,” he sighed shakily.

You managed a little whimper of agreement as he slowly pulled out. As soon as he moved back, you collapsed onto the bed with a whine.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice somewhere between amused and actually worried.

You flashed him a thumbs-up and caught his gaze with a loopy smile. His answering smirk made your body react and a groan escaped again.

“Stop being so sexy. It almost hurts,” you whined.

Laughter filled the room joyously as he plopped down onto the bed next to you. As he drew you in closer, one hand found yours and brought it to his lips. Eyes fluttering open, a rush of embarrassment flooded your cheeks as you realized how intently he was watching you.

“What?” you asked curiously.

“Just admirnin’ you, darlin’,” he replied easily, “You sure you’re okay?”

A hum of agreement left your lips before you flipped your hand over and laced your fingers between his. You weren’t certain where this put the two of you, but it certainly seemed like more than a one-night stand. You hoped.

“When does Emma get back?” he asked.

You thought about it for a moment before replying, “Should be back Sunday night, why?”

He drew your hand to his mouth once more, this time pressing little kisses to each fingertip.

“Unless you’ve got other things to do, how would you feel about me staying tonight and I can make us breakfast in the morning?”

You bit your lower lip in hopes of containing some of the surely stupid joy rolling off of you in waved as you gave a little nod. He smiled back warmly but there was a look of uncertainty that passed through his gaze as his other hand sunk into your hair, drawing goosebumps across your skin as he played with the strands.

“And then, if you can put up with me for long enough, I want to take you and the munchkin out for dinner Sunday night. How’s that sound?”

At that, you could no longer contain your excitement. Rolling to face him, you leaned up and caught his mouth in a sweet kiss, trying to convey just how happy that idea made you.

“I’d love to, and I know Emma would be ecstatic. She really adores you,” you admitted warmly.

“Good, now, we’ve got plenty of time until morning and the electricity isn’t even back on yet,” he murmured deviously, fingers tauntingly sliding down your stomach to your thighs, “What say we work on conquering your hatred of the dark, aye?”

#captain price x reader #captain price smut #cod fanfic #cod smut #captain john price

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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 3 months

Text

Duty over heart drabble: Captain john price x f!reader

suggestive mdni (18+)

You’re talking to him. You do it everyday, multiple times a day, because you’ve both been together for so long, but sometimes Price just can’t get over that you are talking to him.

You, the incredibly skilled who rivals his best, is his best, and is the most incredibly talented medic he’s ever met.

You, the most beautiful woman in existence who gently brings him down to earth and brings his spirits up when he needs it. Who’s so incredibly human yet like a goddess to him in more ways than one.

You let him love you, hold you and speak to you. Make love and fuck you, hold your hand and make you whine you his name. You let him be yours and you let yourself be his.

And you’re talking to him. Smiling at him, looking at him.

He’s so enamored by your eyes, your smile, your face and every detail, your voice and everything about you.

“And I was thinking-“ you paused when you noticed the far look in his eyes as he stared at you.

You would’ve been a little annoyed that he wasn’t listening if he didn’t look so in love. He looked like a lovestruck puppy, his eyes holding adoration that you can feel deep within your heart that makes you feel giddy at the soft smile on his face.

After all these years, sometimes he still makes you feel like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Did you hear me, John?” You placed a hand on his chest and you watched him hold back a shiver.

“Hm?” He came back from his thoughts but didn’t look any less in love with you as he placed a hand over yours.

His heart was beating just a little faster. You guessed sometimes you made him feel like a schoolboy with a crush again too.

“I said I was thinking about cooking dinner instead of eating the cafeteria food tonight.” You repeated and he nodded. “And wanted to know what you wanted.”

“Anything you make, you know that.” He rubbed this thumb across your knuckles.

You scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes and he beamed at you. You grasped his shirt and pulled him forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

He melted into it and you did too.

“I’ll make your favorite.”

“So you’ll be ready for me on the bed then?”

“John!”

A/n: munch john price

#duty over heart #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #price x you #price x reader #john price x reader #john price x you #captain john price #price mw2 #john price

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pacifymebby · 10 months

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Hi! i love your blog sm! i was wondering if i could request a peaky blinders preference for how they would react if they were at a party and an enemy had their s/o’s drink spiked as a way to distract them so they could attack the peaky boys? i hope this makes sense haha Tysm !

Hi lovely thank u so much for the request, i am so sorry that youve waited so long for me to finish this!!! I loved the idea and u gave me so much to work with!! I hope its everything u wanted it to be hehe.

Warnings: spiking of drinks, violence tv level) also describe the feeling of being spiked during Bonnies which could be upsetting for some.

Tommy

🌿 He'd been on edge all evening, he didn't really want to show his face tonight anyway, one of those fancy parties he knew he had to host every now and then to remain a prominent, influencial member of high society...

🌿 But these evenings are always ruined by the other guests... If he had to put a figure on it he'd say he despises about 90% of the rooms population and if it wasn't for you dancing with him and acompanying him all evening he's not sure he wouldn't have shouted that to the whole fucking room...

🌿All in all he wasn't in the mood for a party, let alone the trouble that he could sense brewing, this darkness bubbling away under the surface... He could tell something wasn't quite right, he had that warning bell ringing in his head and everyone who entered the grand ballroom, Tommy counted them, assessed them, studied them for any tells...

🌿Tommy saw exactly what they did, saw your drink get spiked... But this is Tommy Shelby we're talking about, the man never misses a trick

🌿And when he saw that young lad slip something into your drink he knew exactly what it was for... He knew that they were only trying to distract him from the bigger picture

🌿And what better way to navigate the trouble than to let them believe that they had...

🌿So he swaps your drink, accidentally knocking the spiked drink over, along with several others, smiling and laughing it off, apologising, keeps the mood light all hands in the air like "never mind eh just a few spilt drinks"

🌿Then when he rejoins you and gives you your drink he wraps his arms around you and hugs you close, rocking you side to side gently, slow dancing with you. Giving you instructions.

🌿"Need you do somet for me angel," he says, "Don't worry it won't be difficult... Need you to pass out for me yeah, just go limp in my arms as if someones put somet in your drink and its hit you all at once... Not right now yeah, just... Sip your drink - its safe I promise - just sip your drink and dance with me now eh and then, when I go over there and start talking with John, you go talk to Pol or me sister and you tell em you don't feel so good, let them take you out for some air and then you do it alright? But make sure you're somewhere safe away from all this for me... "

🌿You're a little worried, "but why Tommy whats going on?" "Never you mind about any of that eh, you just do this one thing for me eh sweetheart, I'll take care of everything else..."

🌿So you do as he tells you and you go outside with Ada and Polly doing your best to act a little faint a little frail. And to you delight you convince them so that when you pass out in Pollys arms a woman nearby screams and Ada goes running inside to tell Tommy...

🌿And as the chaos errupts and the party falls into dissaray, the fighting breaking out between the Peakys and the rival gang Tommy is safe in the knowledge that youre alright, that youre outside away from it all, safe and sound. So he can concentrate on wiping out the bastards who tried to hurt his angel, tried to use you as a cog in their nasty plan.

🌿He's so proud of you! When the fights over and he's sure there are no more threats he comes to find you, Ada has laid you down on the bench in the garden and covered you with her jacket and when Tommy sees you he smirks, chuckling softly.

🌿He gives you a little applause, "Bravo love, bravo," he says sitting down and helping you up, his proud grin painting a bright smile on your lips.

🌿Ada and Polly being confused until the penny drops and they realise that they've been dragged into one of Tommys plans. Theyre furious that he tricked them like that but Tommy isnt paying any attention to the lecture Polly is giving him. He's just looking at you.

🌿"You should be on the stage angel, when I saw you for a second there you had me worried..." "Don't be daft," you smile shyly, leaning into him as he puts his arms around you and hugs you, kissing your temple, looking out at the garden with serious eyes.

🌿"Sorry I had to drag you into all that love, won't happen again..." but you both know it probably will and he knows now that he can rely on you to be quite the little actress whenever he needs you.

🌿"Glad I've got such a clever girl eh angel..."

Alfie

🐻 Fuckin hates parties, doesnt see why it cant just be you and him having a drink ans a dance cosy at home but then again, he's old, maybe you youngens still like a party... Mind you, he remembers being young (he ain't that old!) he wasn't much for parties then either...

🐻 But he can't insult Tommy Shelby by refusing his invitation and he takes a little joy from knowing that his old pal Tommy hates parties just as much, that at least at this party he'll get to do is two favourite things: dancing with his zieskiet and seeing Tommy Shelby pissed off.

🐻 So the two of you go to the party and he tries to keep his grumbling to a minimum, charming you with all his usual tricks, dancing with you and enjoying the jealous looks from all the other men in the room. He's certain that you must be the most beautiful woman any of these men have ever set eyes on and he loves knowing that you're all his. Loves being able to show you off subtly.

🐻 He dances with you and brings you drinks, he holds your hand at every opportunity, being extra possesive over you, he doesnt leave your side all even...

🐻 So when it happens he's shocked... Because how could it have happened? How could anyone have put anything in your drink without him noticing?

🐻 He's so shocked but this is Alfie and he knows he needs to keep it together, remain calm, remain unsettlingly calm. So he turns slowly with you still in his arms and he searches the room for Tommy Shelby.

🐻 Because this is Tommys fuckin party so its Tommys fuckin fault and Alfie isn't daft, he knows that this... Whats happened to you, your limp, seemingly lifeless body, is probably only the first step in someone elses plan.

🐻The thought flickers across his mind, perhaps this is part of Tommys plans, perhaps its Tommy himself who has done this to you, betraying Alfie - it wouldn't be the first time the old friends have betrayed eachother... But no, that would be too obvious and besides... Tommy has a little class, for a "gypsy" anyway...

🐻 So instead of threatening everyone in the room instead of firing his gun, putting a bullet through someones - anyones - head you know, just to relieve his frustration, just to calm his panic... instead of losing his mind he remains calm, walks purposefully up to Tommy and starts talking over the younger man completely ignoring Tommys company.

🐻 This is tommys fuckin party so its tommys fuckin problem and Alfie has already decided that whatever happens next he won't be sticking around to help his old friend.

🐻 "Alright Tommy my old pal alright have a nice night yeah cause me and my girl are goin now... I know I know we've not exactly stayed very long but you know how I feel about these fancy do's dont you... Fuckin can't abide em yeah... And anyway as you can see... As you can see right my girls taken a turn hasn't she, had a funny turn, passed out cold in my arms just now yeah like she'd just gone and fuckin died or somet..." he's getting theatrical now, those who were with Tommy are watching Alfie fearfully, they've heard about him, they know he can turn at any second and he sure as hell looks like he might be about to snap now.

🐻 "We were just dancing together just now, over there yeah by that big fuckin ugly tree someone seems to have just fuckin dragged in out the garden? What is that anyway a fuckin big ugly tree? You wanna fire whoever put that ugly thing there..."

🐻 Tommy is looking at Alfie and looking at you, putting the pieces together, trying to think quicker than Alfie is talking but its always difficult to stay one step ahead of Solomons when he starts on these rants.

🐻 "Anyway I digress I digress, fuckin ugly plant or not, it would appear that somehow, in your fine home... Yeah and that words important right cause as the man of my own house myself yeah, I like to keep my home nice and safe eh, a fortress if you will... Anyway, me and my girl we were just fuckin dancin right, she was just fuckin dancing, having a nice fuckin evenin and then, poof..." he lets his voice soften, making a little gesture with his fingers like hes snuffing out a candle, "its like she's fuckin died or something aint it... Look at her yeah, don't you agree... Fuckin lifeless mate thats what she is..."

🐻 "Alfie whatevers happened I promise you we'll..."

🐻 "Fuckin fix it? That what you're gonna do yeah?" Alfie cutting him off, trying not to lose his temper, nows not the time to start a fight, nows the time to get you home safe and sound.

🐻 "Well, you can enjoy the rest of your evening eh, gather all your gypsy boys up yeah, put your little thinkin caps on eh and fuckin fix whatever shit you've gotten yourself caught up in this time... But me an my girl yeah, we're going home now alright mate, cause I reckon when she wakes up yeah shes gonna have a pretty nasty headache, and the last thing I'd want for her now is for her to have to come round to the sight of your fuckin crooked mug... Mate."

🐻 Alfie would be suspicious of everyone, even Tommy who he has mostly ruled out.

🐻 As he's carrying you out to the car, calling for Ollie to bring the motor round, its Alfie who starts the fight, firing his gun once into the crowd, wounding one of tommys men with a bullet in the foot. He chuckles as he hears the cry of pain, hears the victim fall to the floor just as heavily as you had fallen.

🐻 His real priority however is you, now that he's let tommy shelby know theres bad blood between them, now that hes started a fight and left the party tumbling into chaos, all out warfare, all Alfie cares about is getting you home.

🐻 He sits in the back of the car with you cradled to his chest, bundled up in his arms like a baby. He'd be talking to you soothingly, stroking your hair, not sure whether you can hear him or not. Wanting to make sure that whatevers happening to you you know your alfies with you, you know not to be scared.

🐻Grumbling and snapping at poor Ollie because hes driving too slowly and then because hes driving too dangerously and you're getting jostled about in the back.

🐻 He doesnt trust hospitals and doctors but he begrudgingly takes you into one and sits with you all night, getting snappy and snippy with the doctors who he doesnt think are doing enough.

🐻 He is so relieved when you finally come round the next morning, he's not slept, not eaten, hes just sat holding you, even when his sciatica was playing up and he was in pain from sitting holding you like that for too long.

🐻 He is nothing but soft and tender with you all day, runs you a bath to help sooth your aching muscles, fussing over you and grumbling at anyone who dares disturb the two of you. Poor Ollie gets an earful when he tries to inform Alfie that Tommy Shelby phoned.

🐻 He feels so guilty that this happened to you on his watch, he doesnt say it to you outright, that he blames himself, but he does make you promises over and over again that when he finds out what happened, who did that to you, he'll be paying them a visit...

🐻 He was really scared for you, really scared that he was going to lose you, really scared that you might not wake up, that he might not get to dance with you or kiss you or see your pretty eyes awake and alive ever again and so for that reason he stays close to you for some time after that night, always holding you, always touching you. He kisses you every chance he gets. Even wants you to come into his office with him so that he can keep you close, sitting in his lap whilst he works.

🐻 "Next time Tommy Shelby invites us to one of his fancy little parties zieskiet, next time he sends us one of those fuckin little invites... Lets not bother yeah, lets stay home just me and you, can do all the dancin we like right here yeah poppet, can have all the fun we like right fuckin here yeah..."

Arthur

🍂 You and Arthur always go too far at these parties his brother hosts. Tommys out there trying to make contacts, trying to lobby and charm politicians and the nations elite, meanwhile you and Arthur are racing one another to the bottom of a bottle of whiskey you've nicked from the kitchens, getting silly and letting your hair down...

🍂 And you're already drunk, both of you are really really drunk!

🍂 So when you start acting like you've overstepped that hard to predict line into "one too many" territory, Arthur assumes that thats all it is. You've had one too many, surpassed your limit and now you're struggling to stand up or walk, leaning on him for balance.

🍂 When you tell him you feel a little sick he chuckles and teases you all, "Aye my love I'm not fuckin surprised eh, when you gonna learn eh sweetheart, you can't keep up with us big boys..."

🍂 But when you collapse in his arms he freezes. The smile wiped clean off his face because suddenly he understands whats happened. You aren't just a little drunk. Something far more sinister has happened.

🍂 And of course he's terrified, pretty much convinced that youre already dead... Your body is so limp, lifeless, your head fallen back, youe eyes closed. You look so fragile, so delicate, like a feather and yet suddenly he can feel the weight of your whole body and you feel so, so real, so heavy...

🍂 He's fucking terrified.

🍂But Arthur Shelby doesn't do "terrified" he has one emotional switch and thats rage. If hes heartbroken he gets angry, if he's bitter he gets angry, if hes scared, well, he gets fucking angry and thats what happens next.

🍂 He fires his gun up at the cieling, the bullet shattering the glass in the chandelier above you so that shards rain down on the now petrified crowd. The party disintergratea, the atmosphere shattered as the band stops playing and, beyond the crying of a terrified bystander, the scuffle of panicked men, the room falls silent, all eyes on him.

🍂 He's livid, his mind already hazing with rage so that he can barely think, he's breathing heavily, shallow ragged breaths.

🍂 "Right!" he shouts into the crowd, "One of yous has fuckin hurt my fuckin wife and no one leaves this fuckin room until I find out which fucker done it... By order of the peaky fuckin blinders!"

🍂 And of course, no one argues with him.

🍂 Tommy pushes his way through the crowd to his brother, tries to reason with him, one hand on Arthurs shoulder as he tells him whats happening, explains the situation...

🍂 "You need to let her go brother, give her to Polly eh, go on brother, let Polly take her now..." Tommys trying to reason with him but Arthur doesnt want to let you go. The only reason he gives in in the end is because Tommy tells him he knows whos responsible for whats happened.

🍂 When Tommy points out the men who have spiked your drink Arthur doesnt question him, doesn't ask how he knows, instead he loses the last of his control, instead he startes trembling with the adrenaline rush, the rage, the hatred burning in his veins, his mind white and blank, tunnel visioning towards destruction.

🍂 He goes feral, launching himself at the men who are responsible, horror movie scenes ensuing as Tommy and the Peakys all go to battle, cutting men left right and center. Arthur is the most blood thirsty however, driven by the image of your lifeless body, driven by the terror he feels in his tight chest every time he pictures your lifeless expression.

🍂 He can't be stopped and he beats and cuts those men until they're unrecognisable. He has to be dragged back from the smashes in head of one of them, covered in their blood and his.

🍂 He can't calm down, he's practically rabid with his own violence, his eyes dark and changed by his anger.

🍂 But when you come round hours later, when you enter the ballroom where Arthur is still smashing things, still throwing furniture and breaking glasses, doing himself damage, when you call out to him he hears you and he turns to look at you. All the energy draining from him, all the adrenaline leaving him panting and exhausted, just gazing at you in disbelief.

🍂 And then hes just a shameful guilty stream of apologies, hes sorry he let it happen to you, hes sorry you have to see him like that, hes sorry he's too bloody and disgusting to hold you, he's sorry hes ruined your beautiful dress, he's sorry he went too far again, hes sorry he wasn't there when you woke up, he's sorry he couldn't be more help...

🍂 The only way you can cut him off is with your hand over his mouth, looking deep into his eyes, combing your fingers through his hair and his beard and pressing your lips to his cheeks, to his forehead and nose and jaw and anywhere else you possibly can.

🍂 "S'alright Arthur m'love im alright I'm here and its all alright and you fuckin got em didn't you, fuckin saved me didnt you, love you so much Arthur, don't apologise for anything please love, I'm so grateful I'm your girl..." you whispering all these sweet things to him until he's sure he's going to cry, your eyes and his eyes watering.

🍂 You cleaning him up afterwards and then climbing into the bath with him. Probably fucking in the water nice and slow and gentle to use up the last of his adrenaline and sooth him the best way you know how...

John

🌼 Similar to Arthur, John just thinks you can't hold your drink. You're so much smaller than him but you always forget that when you're drinking, you've been on the gin with Pol and Ada and you haven't exactly been taking your time....

🌼 He thinks you're so funny when you're drunk, thinks youre so cute too, the way you lose yourself half way through a sentence trailing off sleepily. The way you have to lean on him, wrapping your arms around his waist and closing your eyes as if you're about to fall asleep against him.

🌼 And when you do fall asleep against him he just chuckles, "whatre y'like eh flower," he says shaking his head and kissing your cheek as he lifts you up and carries you to the edge of the dancefloor, making a bed for you out of dinner chairs, lining them up in a row and laying you down on them with the little ones who have already gone to sleep on similar makeshift beds.

🌼 He shrugs his jacket off and uses it as a cover for you draping it over your shoulders carefully, crouching down and kissing your cheek, taking a moment to admire your peaceful features. You're so pretty, he's so lucky... All the while never noticing that somethings wrong. Never noticing anything at all until its too late.

🌼 The men who spiked your drink had been expecting some kind of reaction, a ruckus of sorts, a ripple of panic which would start with you and spread through the party like a wave...

🌼 But nothing happens and they're left confused and growing ever more tense waiting to pull their move, knowing that their window of opportunity is running out fast

🌼 And in the end they have to abandon their plan because all is calm and everyone js still having a good night. John is laughing with his brothers and you, well, you appear to be sleeping peacefully with the children...

🌼 So they have to start a new commotion, one of the men taking out a knife and threatening some random politicians wife so that one by one the peaky men are dragged into a fight.

🌼 John doesn't make any connections between the commotion and whats happened to you, as far as he's concerned youre still sleeping... That is until he grabs one of these trouble makers by the collar of his shirt and the cheeky fucker licks his teeth in a grin.

🌼 "Wheres your girlfriend Shelby? Hope shes alright, would be a shame if something were to..." and just like that the penny drops and although john had only intended to wound the stupid bastard, when he realises what the man is alluding to he shoves him up against the wall and pulls his gun on him, shooting the nasty git right between the eyes.

🌼 He's feeling murderous then, no longer enjoying the fight as a bit of friendly sport. But before he can take revenge he rushes to find Pol and instructs her to take care of you, to get you to a doctor as quickly as she can.

🌼 He's worried about you, obviously, but he's also really beating himself up for being so stupid as to not realise that there was anything wrong with you. He takes that frustration out in the fight however, channeling all his anger and fear and upset into beating the living daylights out of his enemies.

🌼 He's anxious to get to you however and the moment he scans the room and sees that his brothers and the lads have everything under control he leaves to find Polly, to find you.

🌼 He irritates the hell out of Ada and Polly who are trying to attend to you whilst they wait for the doctor, because Johns not the most delicate or precise at the best of times and when hes all worked up and in a bit of a state hes even worse. He just keeps gettinf in the way, he wants to help but somehow everything he does actually makes it worse.

🌼 "For christ sakes John sit down!" Polly losing her temper with him when the doctor does finally arrive and he carries on getting in the way.

🌼 But John will not be reassured and he will not listen to the doctor or believe them when they try to tell him that you're going to be okay.

🌼 He gets annoyed when the doctor tries to leave. "Where the bloody hell dya think youre going shes still out cold!" "Mr Shelby please, she's only sleeping, she's going to be completely fine... Theres nothing more I can do for either of you but you have my assurances that..."

🌼 "I don't want your assurances doc, I want you to fuckin do something!"

🌼 Ada having to intervene and drag him away, telling him that if he really wants to help he should stay with you, maybe talk to you or something so that you know hes there with you... Shes despairing with him if shes being honest...

🌼 But John finally lets the doctor leave and he sits down with you, holding your hand, stroking your hair out your face and talking to you, trying his best to calm down and talk calmly and reassuringly to you.

🌼 Worlds wobbliest restless knees award goes to...

🌼 He's a worrier at heart, even if he usually seems so laid back and when you do come round he doesnt stop fussing or being anxious, in fact Ada tells you she actually believes he's gotten worse... If thats at all possible.

🌼 He absolutely dotes on you. He doesnt want to leave your side but he doesnt want you to go without and he doesnt trust anyone else to get your drinks or to bring you food so hes constantly torn between going to get you food or staying by your side.

🌼 Isn't affraid to admit how scared of losing you he was, tells you multiple times. Keeps taking your hand in his and just holding onto you clasping your fingers tightly. He doesnt want to let you out of his sight.

🌼 Overly doting actually to a point where you think you might go insane. "John love, sweetheart please calm down, I'm fine I'm fine I promise... I can hold my cup myself see, I'm alright really love... Are you sure you're alright you're exhausting yourself..."

🌼 But he won't let you worry about him and he forces himself to tone his anxiety down because he doesn't want you to worry about him.

🌼 Again, can't get over how fucking stupid he feels, he can't believe he thought you were just drunk. He can't believe he just left you in the corner with the kids. He has such a huge crisis of confidence about his abilities as a husband/father. You needed him and he didn't even fucking notice.

🌼 He's petrified it could happen again and he does a lot of growing up. You tease him that hes growing too serious in his old age and although sometimes he laughs and jokes along, sometimes he gets this dark guilty look in his eyes and he reminds you of what happened, what could have happened. Tells you again that he isn't gonna let you down like that again...

🌼 Obviously wont listen to you when you try to tell him he didn't and could never let you down.

Bonnie

🍀 If he was being honest, for all that he'd told Tommy Shelby he wanted fame and fortune, didn't want to be a traveller anymore with fucking nothing to his name, seeing how Tommy lived whenever he visited the Shelby manor, made him question whether he really wanted all those things afterall. There was something about that manor that made Bonnie uncomfortable, perhaps it was simply that wherever the Shelbys were involved there was trouble.

🍀 And that was why he had had mixed feelings about bringing you to this party...

🍀Thered been so many reasons he'd wajted to... Naturally... He'd been excited to show off his girl, to have all the other Peaky Boys see you in all your beauty, for them to see that the shy and somewhat reserved Bonnie Gold, could do just as well as them when it came to women...

🍀And he'd wanted to show off to you too, show you how different the Shelby family seemed to live. The wealth that Bonnie was being introduced to. He wanted to show you it all so he could show you all the things he was going to work to win for you with his boxing.

🍀And he wanted to treat you. In comparison to the other Peaky lads like Isaiah and Michael and Finn, Bonnie led a far more simple life. The other boys were always taking their girls out to fancy parties, clubs and restaurants but you and Bonnie didn't live that kind of life...

🍀So when Tommy told him to bring a girl if he liked, Bonnie knew he would be taking you...

🍀Even if he was a little apprehensive to let you so close to the darker half of his life which so often put him in danger and could put you in harms way too if he wasn't careful..

🍀But it was worth his nerves to see you smiling the way that you were now, dancing with him, drinking and laughing with Isaiahs girlfriend and Michaels too. You looked so happy, so beautiful under the twinkling candle glow which lit the ballroom. And he was happy that you were happy. He was proud that everyone could see how you shone like a little star in that room. How you fitted in perfectly...

🍀But neither of you saw that stranger slip something into your drink. A drink that had been intended for Ada Shelby who had been talking to you by the bar, your glasses side by side on the polished marble top.

🍀 At first you just felt a little odd, a little dizzy as though you'd done ten shots of gin without realising it and they were all hitting you at once and when you found Bonnie and told him you felt strange he smiled at you and teased you telling you you'd had one too many trying to keep up with "us big lads"

🍀 He tucks you under his arm and leads you out to the terrace for some air, kisses your cheek and scrapes your long hair back from your face and neck so that the cool night air might dust you and ease your dizziness.

🍀You make the mistake of asking for some water and Bonnie makes the mistake of leaving you alone outside to go and get you some.

🍀And by the time either of you realised whats really happening its too late. Your little world is blurring and spinning and you feel suddenly so unbelievably sick.

🍀So you stand up quickly, too quickly, desperate to get back to Bonnie because you have that worrisome feeling in your stomach, that instinct telling you that something is really wrong.

🍀And you bump into a stranger who holds onto your arm for a moment too long, making you feel even more like you might be in serious trouble.

🍀You call out for Bonnie, your voice much quieter, your words more slurred than you expect them to be. And of course when Bonnie hears you he recognises that something isn't right because you sound so distance. Suddenly he feels very far away from you...

🍀When he turns and sees you he drops the glass of water, not even noticing it shatter on the floor causing a stir. He rushes to you concern lacing his brows together, his young face grey with worry when he recognises all the tell tale signs of something he'd hoped would never happen to you...

🍀 You open your mouth to call out to him but as you do you falter, stumbling forward. You're lucky your boy is a boxer, agile and quick on his feet, because he manages to catch you just before your vision fails and your body falls limp everything feeling heavier and heavier until finally you find yourself completely lost under a thick hazy quilt.

🍀 You can feel that sensation of impending doom grip you then, the fear building inside you, your heart racing as you struggle against the lethargy and confusion which is dragging you down into the dark. You want to cry, want to cry out for your Bonnie to help you but you can't even move let alone speak.

🍀Bonnie is shaking, looking down at you where you lie limp in his arms, your body slumped against his. You look so pale, so washed out. You feel cold too. Its as if you're dead but he knows youre not. He knows exactly whats happened to you because he's heard stories from Isaiah about some of the shit that goes on in the city these days. Girls getting attacked by sleazy gits. Ones who can't charm women (or perhaps dont even want to) so they use drugs to make them vulnerable, to make them easy targets.

🍀He's livid. Pale with anger. His heart beating fast because he knows how dangerous these kinds of poisons can be. How much damage they can do. He's scared for you but he's fucking livid too. Who the fucks Tommy Shelby inviting into his home these days... How the fucks a gang leader as infamous as Tommy Shelby cutting about letting young girls get spiked under his watch.

🍀He kisses your forehead, whispering to you that you'll be alright, saying a little prayer, a hail mary for you, hoping you can hear him. Hoping that it'll bring you comfort wherever you are just then.

🍀And then he surprises not only himself but everyone else in the room, all the other young peaky lads watching him astounded.

🍀Because he walks straight back into the ballroom, still holding you in his arms, bundled up against his chest, the most precious cargo hes ever had to carry. He kisses you on the forehead again and he says another little prayer for you, and then he carries you right up to Tommy Shelby himself, Bonnies eyes full of a cold determination, his anger apparent in the grinding of his jaw, the complete disgust with which he looks at Tommy.

🍀 It must be the adrenaline shooting through him, it must be the funny way emotions like fear and heartbreak show themselves when youre young and impulsive, but god knows where the confidence to do what he does next comes from...

🍀"You need to sort your fuckin men out Thomas Shelby, I dont know what the fuck kind of lowlife bastards you associate with..." 🍀his dad tries to cut in and apologise to Tommy on Bonnies behalf but when he sees you he frowns too and steps back wincing when his son carries on.

🍀 "You need to be a bit more fuckin careful about who you call your fuckin friends Tommy, cause when I find the sick cunt who's spiked my lass am gonna slit his fuckin throat from ear to fuckin ear..."

🍀 "And you say we're the fuckin savages..." he spits on the ground at Tommys feet but he doesn't wait to hear the older mans response.

🍀Instead he leaves with you immediately, doesnt stay to realise the true extent of the drama which kicks off after he leaves and even when he hears about what went down in the end he doesnt care. All that matters to him is you. When he's leaving with you all he's thinking about is how he's going ti get you home safe, how he's going to take care of you...

🍀All in all the attackers are going ro regret their mistake because had they hit Ada there might have been a bigger fight kicked off, her brothers picking any poor sod in the crowd of guests to fight with. But because they hit you its all over much quicker. Bonnie doesnt let you become a distraction, he really does just carry you all the way home where he can keep you safe, watch you through your unconsciousness and make sure youre alright.

🍀He spends all night sitting up with you, talking to you quietly, kissing your hair, cradling you to his chest, worrying about you. Saying those little prayers for you hoping that you can hear him or at least feel his presence. Hoping that you can feel his love for you, hoping you know that hes got you, that youre safe.

🍀 "S'alright little dove s'alright my girl ive got you you're safe sweetpea, won't let anything happen to you lovely..."

🍀When tou come round you wake in his lap, his hand in your hair, one hand on your wrist as he counts your pulse. He's so worried about you, the longer you've been out for the more stressed hes become. His dad came home not long after he did, Aberama had had to stick around and help when the fight had broken out, he'd also had to try and save face on behalf of his son and his short temper...

🍀 "My my bonnie that was quite the performance..." "I'm not gonna apologise so don't even try it..." Bonnies still absolutely seething and will be for some time, he's angry that Tommy would let those kinds of men into his house and he can't be reasoned with. He's definitely going to hold a grudge.

🍀But when you come round properly he drops his temper and shows you only gentleness ans care, ever so sweet as he dotes on you. Doesn't try to hide his relief, doesn't try to play it cool. Tells you how worried he was, how scared he was he might lose you...

🍀He asks you how you're feeling, tells you not to lie to him or play it down. "What do you need little dove, anythin at all yeah you tell me, gonna look after you i promise..." but you don't really need him to promise you that because you know it already.

🍀In the end you have to try and talk sense to him about the whole Tommy issue, you remind him what hes working towards, "Don't throw all that away over some stupid accident Bon, you're gonna be a star remember, gonna be my champion..."

🍀"Come in Bon, forgive and forget, what is it they say... Bury the hatchet..." "Aye I'll bury it alright... In the back of his fuckin head!" "Bonnie i mean it! Please!" and eventually he has to give in and take you seriously but not without that boyish smile, not without joking about his grudge from time to time and not without making it very clear that he isn't going to apologise for what he said that night, or for leaving before he could help thwm fight. "Alright, alright sweetpea, no bad blood i promise alright if thats what you want I'll forgive him... But am not apologisin to him... I did exactly what any good lad would do eh, got to look after my girl, gotta protect her first, shes the most important thing in the whole wide world..."

🍀He does feel like he should have done more, he regrets not realising sooner, regrets even taking you to the stupid party in th3 first place. From then on he's far more protective over you, hyper alert whenever hes out with you, doesn't ever let your drinks out of his sight, doesnt ever let anyone else buy you a drink. Doesnt ever leave you on your own, not even to get you a water when you really have had one too many. Certain he wont let anything like that happen to you ever again.

Isaiah

🐀 Similiar to John, Isaiah doesn't realise somethings wrong until its really really wrong and the fights already kicked off.

🐀The two of you would have been trying to outdrink one another all night. This was one of Tommys parties, one for all his legal business contacts and endeavors and Isaiah wasnt exactly expecting to be pulling his gun on anyone or getting into any serious scraps.

🐀However when a fight does break out, when some uninvited guests turn on Arthur and pull a knife, Isaiah's first thought is of vulnerable drunk you somewhere on your own in the party, perhaps off with Ada in the bathroom or with Lizzie at the bar.

🐀He only realises the depths of the danger you're in when he shoves a half concious thug to the floor and out of his way, pausing amid the choas to look for you, to see whether you've returned from the bathroom. But instead he sees Ada, sees her with tears in her eyes, her face white as a sheet. She looks terrified and although there could be any number of reasons the Shelby sister looks so scared Isaiah knows in his gut that shes crying because of you. Somethings happened to you.

🐀"Ada what is it whats wring where the fucks y/n..." and when Ada shakes her head and bursts into tears he fears the worst. Thinks something fucking awful has happened to you.

🐀He has this moment of hesitation, torn because the fights still raging and he knows the peakys need him to stay and fight. But he's terrified, so scared that you might be lying on the floor somewhere wounded or worse, dying, without him...

🐀"Ada tell me what the fucks happened," he snaps because hes panicking. Later he'll feel guilty for scaring the young lass but just then shes the least of his worries. He can think only of you. Total tunnel vision panic. When Ada manages to tell him whats happened she starts crying harder and Isaiah feels his blood run cold. He wants to run to you but he knows there's nothing he can do fir you, knows the only way he can keep you safe now is if he makes sure not a single one of these intruders gets out alive.... So he tells Ada to go find Polly, tells her to make sure she geta you help tells her to keep the both of you safe.

🐀He's in a blind panic, his adrenaline rushing him making it hard ti focus, hard to think and all he can do is launch himself at an attacker and take all his anger and fear out on them.

🐀Knowing that one of these men has hurt you motivates him and unlocks something plain sadistic inside him, he doesnt stop fighting until hes sure theyre all dead and even then with some of them he goes overboard, cutting people who are already dead/as good as dead. Kicking at their limp bodies until their blood stains his shoes and the walls, until its splattered over his body and the other bodies which now little the floor.

🐀John has to drag him away from the body of a man who's barely recognisable anymore reminding him of you, reminding him that you need him, "Come on Saiah, enough... She'll be coming round soon and when she does she's gonna need her man eh? You gotta be there for her mate, you've got to calm the fuck down, clean yourself up... Last thing she wants see is you covered in all this blood..."

🐀Then all the fight leaves him, hes stressed, can't control his ragged breathing, can't control his shaking. Suddenly he doesnt know what to do with all that fear and upset and for a minute he's scared he's going to cry in front of everyone. Isaiah definitely puts a lot of pressure on himself to be as tough as Tommy and the older Peaky men and the fact that his response when his girl is unconcious is to cry rather than rush to protect her makes him feel sick and a little disgusted with himself. Which obviously translates to more anger...

🐀So his temper flares and he can't calm down and even when Pol tells him to breath, to relax because youre going to be fine, Isaiah cant and doesn't accept that. He just gets pissed off that anything bads happened to you at all. And when he snaps at Polly all "Don't tell me to fucking calm down woman! Thats my fuckin girl there, fuckin out cold don't tell me to be fuckin cold!" he gets a hard slap off the woman in question. "Watch who you're callin woman peaky boy or it'll be you on the fuckin floor alright..."

🐀Only then does he come to his senses, suddenly apologetic and a little more meek. A little humbled by that stark slap to the face. It was what he needed in the end to calm him, to remind him who needed him and who he needed to be in that moment.

🐀And then Lizzie and Ada start wishing they could give him a slap too because he's fussing around you and getting in the way and he isn't helping at all...

🐀"Sit down for fuck sake Isaiah, fussin like that ain't gonna help her..." Ada trying to shoo him away, Isaiah straight up ignoring her and hovering around you anyway.

🐀Will be there when you wake up, will say sorry a million times, will not be able to handle the guilt. Makes a lot of very murderous promises. But youre actually kind of fine, just tired and achey, all you really want is for him to lie diwn with you and hold you whilst you rest.

🐀"saiah please," you yawn making grabby hands at him, lethargic and sleepy with little tears in your eyes, "just want a cuddle, come here calm down be alright just want... Cuddle..." him chuckling at you, a smile painted on his lips by your sweetness despite the stress he still feels.

🐀When he climbs into bed with you and holds you in his arks you hold onto him too, you can feel the adrenaline still pumping through his body, can feel his fast heartbeat and the way hes trembling. Youre not so naive as to point it out or ask him about it, instead you kiss his chest and nuzzle into his hold and you thank him for saving you and for being there when you woke up.

🐀Youre a sweet sight to behold and Isaiah is overcome with relief, a rush of emotion hitting him as he realises just how seriously he feels for you, how much you really mean to you. He loves you so dearly and as you're lying there held close to his chest he really realises for the first time that if anything were to happen to you he wouldn't be able to live with himself.

🐀So he makes a silent vow to you and himself that from then on hes going to be your protector, hes going to be there whenever you need him. That hes never going to let you get hurt again, never going to put you in harms way. He stops messing around so much, stops getting as drunk as he used to, really grows up and starts viewing everything to do with the peakys as serious, as a potential threat to you.

🐀Later you ask him to tell you exactly what he did to the bastards that gave you such a sore head and he lights up telling you about it, very satisfied to remember that he made sure they got what they deserved. And you're kind of delighted to hear it too, the kind of story that just make your stomach turn, your body cringe in empathy when he describes the injuries those gits suffered... Instead it makes you feel safe and secure knowing that you have a man who would do literally anything to protect you.

Michael

☘️ He's always enjoyed these parties, theyre so wildly different from anything he ever knew when he was living in the countryside... They make him feel like a real man, like an adult... They're so far from anything he ever expected for himself growing up

☘️And its even better now he has you to spend the evening with, to have on his arm looking beautiful, the most desirable woman in the room. He loves the feeling of entering a room and feeling jealous eyes on him, or shocked eyes. Women who look at him and see his girl and know they don't stand a chance. Me who instinctively drop the hand of their girlfriend when they see you. Michael loves to see it, the attention the two of your draw, the power you have over a room without even having to try.

☘️But that night he finally sees the flipside, the dark threat which looms like a shadow, which follows the shelby men and their partners wherever they go. The truth of the matter is that wherever you go, no matter who you're with, no matter what who is there to protect you, there always a chance that someone out there, someone nearby wants to harm you.

☘️ And tonight it so happens that that is the case. That someone in that crowd of giddy tipsy party goers, has their eyes on you, has foul plans for you...

☘️When it happens, when the 'poison' hits you don't really know whats happening but Michael does. He recognises the signs imediately, the way your eyes cloud with fear and confusion, the way your lips tremble and slope downwards as if you were suffering some kind of turn. He realises that somethings wrong but he doesn't know what to do and when you fall limp into his side, your body heavy against his, the poor lad panics. He freezes.

☘️And this panic is something he will never be able to forgive himself for. Something he'll curse himself for everyday for the rest of his life.

☘️But thats what he does. He panics. He freezes just clutching your lifeless body to himself, staggering back a pace or two, feeling like he might be about to collapse too.

☘️Honestly he thinks you're dead or dying, he thinks he's already lost you, that theres nothing to be done and when he drops to his knees holding onto your body like his life depends on it, he doesnt realise he's shouting for his mother until she rushes to him in a panic herself.

☘️ "Mum!" its that shout that stops the party, but its his next words, words which fall on a hushed and confused low murmuring crowd, "I think shes fuckin dead mum i think shes fuckin..." which cause the evenings downfall.

☘️In that sudden silence a scream is heard somewhere else in the house. It shatters the concerned murmur hum of whispers from onlookers and suddenly sobering perty guests, the scream ricochetting around the ballroom. Honestly Michael hardly hears it over the thrum of his petrofied heart beating in his ears.

☘️Tommy and the other peaky men all rush to find the source of the scream and when Michael doesnt move tommy stops and yells for him...

☘️ "Leave her Michael come on get up, fuckin get up!" he shouts to his younger cousin, no heart for you the girl passed out in Michaels lap, no consideration for Michaels world which is shattering around him in pieces on the ballroom floor. "Fuck sake Michael fuckin move!" he yells his voice carrying across the room, other guests watching in fear when still Michael doesnt move, still clutching onto you, still mumbling to his mum in a blind panic that he thinks youre fuckin dead...

☘️He's so torn because he knows he can't stand up to Tommy, he can't shout at him or put up a fight - even though all he wants to do is tell his older cousin to get fucked - but he also can't stand the thought of leaving you. Can't bare to hand you over to his mother when he really believes that if he does he'll never get to hold you again.

☘️He's so scared and he just sits there on the floor, on his knees, still holding you, your head hanging lip, your eyes shut, your body so unbearably still. He just sits there distraught looking between you and Tommy until tommys temper flares. "fuckin move michael..."

☘️ "Go on love go with your cousin," Pol tells him, "you go and you fuckin kill em for this eh, fuckin kill em... Ive got her, she'll be alright i promise you Michael, you fuckin kill em alright?"

☘️So he pulls himself together, stands up shaking, fighting back tears, a looming sense of dread and devotion, a doomed feeling taking hold of him from the inside as he follows Tommy through the house to the fight which has broken out, which is raging on.

☘️ But he's distracted fighting because you're all he can think about. He's so worried about you and it means he misses a couple of tricks, taking more of a beating than he should have done. Getting cut by a blade, getting a kicking that leaves him feeling weak and full if self loathing. He feels humiliated, even after the fight when he's had his fair share of little victories. Even when hes headbutted another lad out cold and sent his unconcious body staggering back and falling with a thud to the dining room floor. Even when hes plunged a kitchen knife into the back of another.

☘️By the time the fights over he's bruised and bloody and he looks worse than you. Hes in a foul mood, his temper thin and stretched tight because he feels that shame looming over him.

☘️He's genuinely humilated by everything, the fact that he let that happen to you, the fact that he was so scared, the fact that he didnt put up a good fight, that he's ended up battered and looking like a man who can't defend himself or his woman. A man who is only really half a man. He feels pathetic.

☘️ And that gives him a foul temper which he almost takes out on you. Earns himself a slap from his mother who tells him not to be so fucking childish, "Wipe that fuckin sullen look of your face Michael you stupid stupid boy... Y/N fuckin needs you so stop your sulking and step up for her!" "She needs you Michael, more than your fuckin ego needs you now get in there and promise you'll never let anything like that happen to her again..."

☘️And that's exactly what he does. When he returns to you he sees the little tears in your eyes and when you try to apologise to him all, "Michael I'm so sorry, I should have been paying more attention, I should have been more careful... Oh god look at you you poor thing I can't believe it this is all my fault.." he holds his finger to your lips and hushes you. "Stop that eh love, be quiet none of this is your fault... None of this alright... Don't you dare say sorry again sweetheart..."

☘️ He holds your face in both his hands and puts his forehead against yours, closes his eyes and lets out a sigh of relief. Sheds a tear that trickles down his cheek. You're alive and thats all that matters, you're alive and he's so relieved. He hasn't lost you, you're still here. That means he has a chance to make this right. That means he can do things right from now on, be the man you need him to be.

☘️ Thought I was gonna fuckin lose you angel, thought you were gonna fuckin die... But here you are, you're alright now and I'm never gonna let anything happen to you ever again, gonna keep you safe now and always yeah?"

☘️When you ask if he's crying he denies it, then he makes you swear on his life you'll never tell a soul, and that you'll never ask if he's crying ever again. You kiss his cheek where the tear is and smile whispering that you promise. That you love him. That its going to take more than a little drink to drag you away from him.

☘️ He's far more wary around you, who you talk to, where you go, far more protective. And he starts working out more, starts going to the boxing ring with Isaiah and Finn, and when he fights he tries to tap into that panic he felt, pictures your lifeless body and channels all his emotions into every punch, the adrenaline making him ten times a better fighter.

☘️ Loves to hear you tell him how strong he's getting, loves when you run your hands over his arms to feel his muscles and say things like "How could I ever feel in danger when I've got you protecting me?"

#peaky blinders imagines #bonnie gold x reader #tommy shelby x reader #Michael gray x reader #Peaky blinders headcannons #Peaky blinders fanfiction #Isaiah Jesus x reader #John Shelby x reader #Arthur Shelby x reader

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gloryofroses19 · 22 days

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Johnny Boy

“Let’s go, let’s go. Get the lead out boys!” Major John Egan ordered as he clapped his hands together.

“Excited to see Harding that much, Major?” Ken Lemmings asked rhetorically, parking his jeep.

“More like a certain lieutenant.” Blakey commented, lighting a cigarette. “All I heard on the flight back was [y/n] this and [y/n] that. Almost as if we weren’t staring down the face of Nazi fighters.”

Coming up behind Blakey, Douglass slapped Blakey on the back. “Don’t be too jealous Blakey, maybe Tatty will forgive you for saying her sister is prettier.”

“It was a joke!”

“Jokes are meant to be funny, Ev.” Crosby deadpanned from his place on the ground.

“Get in the truck, boys! This war ain’t gonna stop because of your romantic problems.” John Egan was not known for being a patient man. And at this moment, his patience was as thin as his fort’s wings, which were currently shot to shit thanks to the Luftwaffe.

“You know all about romance, right Major?”

With an eye roll, the Major squared his shoulders ready to yell at his men. However, his irritated expression softened as he watched two figures coming his way.

Noticing the attentive blue eyed gaze across the field, [y/n] smiled as she drew nearer. She had not planned to visit the airfield today. Despite knowing that the 100th Bomb Group would be out flying, she had intended to stay in her office. But when Johnny asked, with a hopeful request and a sweet smile, she knew she couldn’t say no. She seemed to have soft spots for Johns she mused, as a pair of small hands tightened their grip on her right hand.

“She read me a book and colored with me!”

Bucky’s eyebrows raised at the British voice informing him of how he was losing the battle for [y/n]’s attention. Six year old Johnny Baker was as formidable as the Germans, the blonde had met Lieutenant [full name] on his first day moving to base and imprinted on her like any good duckling would.

“And she said that she’ll watch me play footy!”

However, Major John Egan was a flyboy and they were not so easily defeated. Crouching down to be eye-level with rival, the major crossed his arms. “Well, she told me I’m clever, funny and..." With a dramatic pause, he continued, "and handsome.”

Stomping his foot at his competitor, the blonde took on a tone of conceited immaturity. “Well she told me that I give the best hugs!”

“Well,” John mimicked, “She kissed me.” And with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes, Bucky added in a lyrical voice, “On the lips.”

With a gasp and whine of her name, the blonde buried his face into [y/n]’s stomach as her hands patted his back comfortingly .

“Are you really arguing with a child?” She asked sternly, as John stood up. “Again?” She pressed, restraining the grin trying to surface at his easy smile. The times she had found them competing for her affection were becoming too numerous to count. Just last week, she had to kiss him better when he scraped his knee racing Johnny across the blacktop of the airfield. She was thankful he was kind enough to let her kiss his lips instead of his bloodied knee.

“No, I’m not arguing with a child.” John watched Johnny stick his tongue out at him, “He’s arguing with me.” With a chuckle, he mirrored the action back at Johnny.

Alive and as charming and tenacious as ever she reflected, assessing his wellbeing . The weight of the war had become harder to bear on their shared tree branch as more flyboys left and didn’t come back. She hadn’t realized her breath had been stalled in fear of his safety until she felt herself lose it again by his adoring look.

John ran a hand through his hair, enjoying the evaluating look on her face “So where’s my reason?”

“Where’s my souvenir?” She responded, meeting his unwavering gaze. It had become their greeting, a promise of a gift that kept them both grounded.

Removing his head from her stomach, Johnny looked up. A pout sprouted on his lips as the adults seemingly ignored him, focusing instead on making what his big cousin Susie called “googly eyes”. With a tug to her hand, Johnny whined. “[nickname]!”

John watched as [y/n] turned her attention to the baby duck calling her name. The blonde’s hair had become ruffled as feathers from his fight for her attention and John knew like any mama bird she would fix it. However, she wasn’t a duck, she was a different bird. His bird to be exact so the only hair she would be fixing would be his curls. Therefore, before her raised hand could fix the strays, an Army Air Corps Officer cap covered Johnny's head.

Taking advantage of his enemy’s distraction, John’s hand gripped [y/n]’s face and momentarily brushed his lips against hers. While a moment on the lips, it spoke of tenderness, love and promise for more.

“Hey!” Removing the cap from his head, Johnny glared at the taller male who seemed wholly unperturbed.

“What?” The innocence in his smile and tone betrayed the mischief inside. The bashful smile he sent her all but confirmed [y/n]'s suspicions. That he did always love when she ran her hands through his curls. And that he was jealous, even of a child.

“Interrogation, Egan!”

Bucky sighed theatrically at the commanding voice behind him. Though the sigh was a sign of acknowledgement, he made no move to leave. If anything it made him more resolute.

“Jack,” Facing his fellow major, John motioned toward the pair at his side, “The good lieutenant and this fine soldier need a ride back to the HQ.”

Major Jack Kidd could use many adjectives to describe John Egan, however, since becoming Air Exec the most he would offer was 'a royal pain in my ass'. “Now, John!”

Though Kidd didn’t seem to be moved, John pressed on. “We can’t just leave them, Jack.”

Biting her lip, [y/n] attempted to maintain a neutral expression. His baritone voice was as pleasant as ever, but the tone of pleading reminded her of times when he pleaded for other things. Some which he had no shame in doing in front of other people, like a dance or smile, and some that were reserved for just the two of them, like a kiss and other intimate notions.

Turning towards the gentle tug on his sheepskin’s sleeve, John leaned down.

“Can we ride in the truck?” Johnny whispered poorly, allowing those close enough to hear.

“If you look sad you can.” John replied conspiratorially, enjoying the giggle it elicited from [y/n] who’s attention had been off him for far too long.

“Get in the truck, Egan.” Though Kidd offered John a look of utter lack of amusement, he sighed. One day he’ll learn to not wipe John’s ass, Jack promised himself. “You too,” he finished gesturing toward the pair.

Breaking out into a wide smile, John’s hands wrapped around [y/n] and Johnny’s shoulders. Guiding them to the awaiting truck, John pulled himself into the truck bed first. With his attention on Johnny, John offered instructions where to put his feet and hands to safely enter the truck all the while, his hands gently hovering his smaller body to offer assistance if needed.

Unbeknownst, [y/n]’s expression was soft in a way she only ever let it be around John. War was not the time to think of a future full of little feet and miniature giggles, but John Egan was a man who inspired hope.

“Need help, Lieutenant?” A deep baritone voice interrupted her thoughts. Though capable and confident, [y/n] took the calloused hand that was offered to her. Allowing herself to be pulled into the warmth of the sheepskin, she brushed her lips against the corner of his mouth.

“Think Cros can take him?” He whispered, nodding to the navigator currently being interrogated by the Brit.

With a laugh, she guided John by the hand to his rightful place next to her on the truck's bench. Bumping her nose against his, she whispered, “You certainly weren’t.”

John laughed gently and easily as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders before taking her hand in his again. Pulling her as close as they could, he leaned into her ear. Planning to defend himself, the pilot opened his mouth but stopped when a sudden weight dropped on him.

“Johnny!”

Ignoring the scolding tone, the blonde pushed his body weight against Bucky and wedged himself between the pair. “You forgot your hat, Major.” Johnny mocked, throwing his hat at the elder.

“Why you little….”

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy! I appreciate all the positive feedback from my other works!

#john egan x female reader #john egan imagine #john egan x reader #major john egan x reader #masters of the air imagine #masters of the air x reader #mota drabble #bucky egan x reader #mota fanfic #mota x reader

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cntloup · 3 months

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SUGAR

Mafia!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Rival's Daughter!Reader angst, toxic relationship

Simon was never a man for fancy ball events but as the right hand man of John Price, had to be by his side at all times especially at times like these, meeting with the rival. As they arrive at their destination and get the formalities of greetings and introductions out of the way, he goes to settle by the bar where he can have his eyes on the whole room, just in case. He orders his usual Kentucky Bourbon. As he stands there, drink in hand, his eyes searching the room for any kind of threat, that’s when he sets his eyes on her... and he should have taken her for what she really is... a threat; he should have ran right then and there but he never did. He had heard about her, the daughter of their rival, but never seen her beauty and grace up close. She looks elegant with a charming smile... and that’s when he knows he’s fucked. She feels a set of eyes on her and looks for them in the crowd and finally faces him. She's heard about him too. She starts walking towards him to greet him properly and that’s when it all started.

“This can’t happen.” he mutters in between kisses as they hide in the hallway “Why not? Cause we’re rivals? Who the fuck cares? If anything I’d be happy to fuck him over.” “who?” “My dad of course. Who else? I hate his fucking guts.” he’s surprised to hear that then replies with a chuckle “Why? Not the lifestyle for you?” “Fuck no! I feel like I’m in a cage. His puppet that he gets to play with and show off whenever he pleases.” he thinks that he can understand her struggles as he has his own trauma too.

And you play a twisted little game, But I know in a way, You need to complicate it, Believe that though we never eat, We still know how to feed, We still know how to bleed, oh

At that time he thought that she’s too sweet and innocent for this life, but that’s where he was wrong. The arguments, the push and pull, the manipulations started not too long after they first felt something for each other which he thought of as pure. He felt used and abused, he started to feel paranoid even more than before, never trusting anyone, even doubting his peers, sometimes even Price. His head full of thoughts like ‘Is she just using me for information?’ ‘Am I just a guard dog to him?’. But there was another side to her; so loving, patient and understanding of his pain and torment... also she was an enchanting seductress. Fuck, she was intoxicating. She had him completely wrapped around her finger.

My arms keep you in the room, Barely let you move, Show me what you do, oh, Tonight, we're second-guessed again, Let me wrap the chains, Addicted to the pain

As he pulls her into his room, never taking his lips off of her, nibbling and kissing any part of skin he can reach, he kicks the door close and corners her against the wall, not letting her move an inch. “What the fuck are you doing to me? My mind is in shambles cause of ya! Do you hate me or love me? One day you stay by my side through everything even when I’m at my worst but the next day you act like I don’t even exist as you come to the meeting with another guy on your arm!” he grunts as he puts one hand around her throat squeezing just enough to make her dizzy, just how she likes it. She smiles devilishly with no reply and pushes her lips against his and he can’t stop her, he never can. He’s addicted, fucking addicted to the pain she puts him through, addicted to her taste, everything about her. If she wants to see how far he can go, if she wants to test him, he’s more than willing to play this game with her.

Do you wanna see how far it goes?, Do you wanna test me now, my love?, You must be crazy if you think, that I will give in so easily, Things we buried low, Coming to the surface now, my love, You must be crazy if you think that I will give up the game, Oh, whoa

Sugar, I've got a taste for you now, Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now

comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥

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alwaysshallow · 2 months

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prompt: ghost retired from task force 141. soap takes a journey through their whole relationship, thinking where it went wrong. part 1 of ?

John MacTavish is a brave man.

At least, he likes to think of himself like this. He has proven multiple times that he is brave. First and foremost, he tried to enroll to the SAS a few times; and it wasn't important that every time he was caught lying about his age, it was the fact that he still tried, despite the amused looks on the recruiter's faces. He remembered all of them, including that damn question he had to answer thousands of times: why do you want to be in the army so early?

Stupid question. Question that, every time, he answered with: why not? In his eyes, he was way more mature than most of the boys his age (an obvious lie, he was maybe even less mature), more skilled than them and would make a perfect fit for the army. What was important too, he could stand his ground without any troubles - besides the one, the one that his mother always scolded him about. His mouth was way too honest, causing him many problems.

Thankfully, those problems weren't military ones; men actually dismissed him with a small smile on their face and a reminder that he could "join later" and be useful then. Obvious bullshit, but after some time, John took that seriously and started training on his own to be prepared.

And he was prepared. Still is, due to strict training in military and at bootcamps that he worked his ass off, trying to be the best of the best, trying to be the best sniper, demolitions expert. He thought of every detail, knowing that if he wants to be remembered, he has to be remembered for something good. For something that people will be envious of.

Paid off, since he passed it with the highest marks on all 3 phases; he cursed in his mind at Gaz being a few seconds quicker than him with the record, but he was the youngest to pass the SAS selection in history, so he guessed it was good to give his rival – later best friend – the first place in something.

He was also brave on the missions; he still remembers his first one, even if he has actual two first ones. First one as a soldier, and first one as a Task Force 141 member.

Soldier one was tough. He didn't really know what to expect at first, if he's gonna be more engaging with civilians, or put into the crossfire; and he quickly understood that right in the middle of war, there's no such thing as knowing what's gonna come.

Death, feeling like a failure, trying to bottle everything up for the sake of the mission just to slowly rot inside, if you're not gonna keep up with it. Thankfully, John somehow knew what he was signing up for, so it came easier for him, but he saw guys that didn't make it far as he did.

In moments like this, he is thankful.

Johnny definitely prefers to think of the first mission with the Task Force, though. He waited for the time like this enough to be excited like a kid on Christmas day, jumping around to unwrap all the gifts. For him, gifts were new adventures to get, goals to accomplish, things to prove, since he was the youngest on the team. Price told him that, when he called him, Soap immediately sent his mum a text about the team he became a part of.

He came back home wasted, but it was for a good cause, after all.

For those who know Johnny enough, it isn't a surprise that he remembers everything about his first day. The weather, how he almost thought he's gonna be late for the first meeting because some moron bumped into his car, his nervousness, how he almost vomited, greetings with everyone on the team.

Over time, Kyle Garrick quickly becomes his best friend, and a keeper of secrets that Johnny has. Maybe it's because he's closer to age with him than with others, maybe similar experiences, but he really is someone that he can talk to without feeling any boundaries between them. Even if he is the holder of the record that he felt envious of (for a moment), somehow MacTavish doesn't feel like this anymore, he's more impressed, if it's possible.

Over time, John Price is easily his mentor. Someone that he looks up to, someone that he remembers from his past, when he was only training. A living legend that he wishes to be in the future, and now he's in his team. Johnny knows that if he'd tell anyone from his previous unit where he is, they'd be jealous. And for a reason; Price isn't just some captain that exists, he's a captain that everyone respects, and that's what matters.

Over time, Simon Riley… is still an enigma that Soap wishes to understand more, if it would be even a possibility. It's not – the man speaks less than a monk, wears his skull face all the time so he can't even take a peek at his face (he thinks it is pretty, though), but cracks jokes that usually belong to dads or uncles at weddings. Every time he thinks he knows something about his comrade, it collapses right in the moment.

No matter how MacTavish tries to talk with him longer, no matter how he nudges him so he sends him judgy looks, it's not enough. He's not the problem, he knows, Ghost is like this to everyone, but somehow that infuriates him even more, since he always found a way.

To everyone, and yet somehow isn't adding.

First serious interaction, where Soap can feel like he cares, happens where Graves betrays them and he's on the run. It feels like playing with death, after being shot in the arm, after feeling like he's on his own. After feeling like something that he finally had control of, it turned into ashes really fast. They weren’t even comrades for that long, they had so many things to live through together, and—

"Johnny, how copy?"

His heart nearly skips a beat when he hears that. Suprassing a groan of pain, he moves his arm a little; it fucking hurts, but it's good. Nerves are still there. "Missed my ass, LT?"

He hears scoff on the other side of the line. "You're the only one I can trust right now, sergeant. Thought you're dead in the ditch somewhere."

He knows It's probably better to ignore that warm feeling in his chest. "Never."

Everything after this, feels like a video game that he likes to play from time to time, not real life. Trying to get to church, trying to survive while Shadow Company is hunting not only his ass, but also Ghost's – and on Johnny's mind is also Alejandro. Is he alive?

He has many questions, and no one to actually answer him, but having Simon on comms somehow eases his mind, especially when he serves all those dad jokes. For the first time, it's Soap that doesn't know what to tell him, he is the one who speaks less, and it feels like a good break from the usual routine.

Surely, it would be even better if the conditions of the whole banter would be a little… calmer, without anyone on their back, but he had to cherish what he has. He supposes it won't last long, probably after everything will be right he'll get back to his usual, grumpy self, but it's the thought that counts.

John is quite pleased to see that he was wrong, when they're in the bar, after a mission; Task Force 141 back together, as well as members of Los Vaqueros back in Las Almas. Thoughts about how he would want to stay there for a longer time to help flood all over him, until the seat next to him cracks under Ghost's weight.

Soap bites his tongue before he says a joke about this. Bad habit, but he learned the hard truth over the years that sometimes he needs to shut up, especially if he cares about having his relationships in check. And, to be honest, he don't want to upset his lieutenant after he was so… caring for him.

"Everything's good, LT?" He tilts his head, observing how Simon sips his whiskey without even frowning at the strongness of the alcohol; couldn't be him.

"Tired, MacTavish," he replies, eyeing him up and down; lazily, like he doesn't really have the power to do this, but he wants to. At least, Soap thinks this way. It's a giddy feeling. "Your arm?"

"My arm?" he fires the question right back, without much thinking about it. Riley's one look gets him back to shape, and he suddenly knows what he was asking about. "Eh, 's… good. Hurts still, but should be good. Doctor told me 's nothin' too serious and—"

"—Why you thought 'm not gonna help you?" Ghost interrupts him.

It's not harsh like usual, when Johnny blabbers too much, and irritates his lieutenant with information that doesn't need to be said out loud. This one feels like a genuine question that he thought of for a while, and it makes sergeant all tingly inside.

Weird; because why Simon needs to know this? Does it bother him that Scot felt like he wouldn't help him, and he'd die on the streets like a dog? Or, worse: be tortured by Shadow Company, then he would eventually die, if Graves would feel generous enough.

"It's…" he gulps. His grasp around glass tightens, he doesn't even realize that only ice is left here, when he plays with it. "You didn't have to. Situation was rough, everythin' blew the fuck up. Wouldn't blame ya if you would leave me, happens."

Guy with the skull balaclava hums, like he gets his way of thinking. For a few seconds, there's an awkward silence between them, chatter from other people and music being the only sound. "We're a team, Johnny. Not gonna let you die on me anytime soon, do you hear me?"

He nods, but it's not enough for Simon. Johnny almost squeaks, when he grabs his chin unexpectedly, forcing him to look into his brown eyes. Dark, darker than the beer that he's currently drinking. "What the—"

"—do you hear me, sergeant?"

It takes all in his will not to kiss him, but Johnny knows that's not the situation like in the movies he watched with his sister; not like the movies, where the main character is adored by a silent, grumpy guy just because he loves them. That's just another situation with his lieutenant who should really seek therapy to talk better with people that he cares about because grunting out answers ain't really the way.

Johnny at least thinks he cares about him a little. He wants him to. "I do hear."

"Good."

And this is how the whole story gets interesting. Tracing Makarov, figuring out what they should do about Shepherd being an asshole, but first and foremost, interacting as a team. As Task Force 141.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x john mactavish #ghost x soap #soapghost #soap x ghost #ghoap #ghoap fic #john soap mactavish #soap/ghost #simon riley fic

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julianalvarez9 · 11 months

Text

three of us / john stones

summary: keeping secrets from john is never easy, but telling the news is much sweeter after the treble. wc: 900 words mentions of: the ucl final, kinda planned pregnancy, established couple.

today was the day: the champions league final.

john had been waiting for it ever since that dreadful match against chelsea in 2021, when the other english team got crowned. they had to swallow the bitter taste of the loss, while seeing their rivals bask in the rays of victory and history, in equal parts.

this time around, though, it was different.

not only the vibes were different -the entire club had this strange aura only winning teams had, which was backed by their evergrowing cabinet they were filling with trophies almost every week now-, but the players, too. they trusted each other, knew each other by heart, almost having the capacity of anticipating what the other would do, and thus, being able to cover for them in case things got out of hand unexpectedly.

but you didn't really see john in a different light until recently, when you found out you were expecting your first child.

after finding out you were pregnant two weeks ago, you figured it would be better to keep it quiet. at least, after the finals: john was too focused on it, anyways, and you didn't want to bring him any more pressure he didn't need. but also, you wanted to tell him in some meaningful way, and you were too busy right now to figure out how to do it.

luckily, your symptoms weren't strong; you didn't have any food aversion or morning sickness that could alert your partner. but today, after the 95 minutes ended and the whistle was blown, signaling the end of the match, your eyes started to pour.

truth be told, your eyes had started to get a bit glassy when you saw kevin fall to the floor in the first half. you knew the functioning of the team by having seen them almost every weekend when you were cheering for your boyfriend, so you knew something was wrong when the belgian didn't quite have the ball on his feet as much as usual. obviously, it could have been due to inter's plan in defense, but you just knew something was off.

when the whistle was heard across the stadium, all emotions got loose. it truly felt like the stars all aligned, and it couldn't have gone another way. the family box for the man city players started getting empty soon enough, and you knew everyone was running towards the pitch, to give the champions of europe their deserved congratulations.

it wasn't long until you found your boyfriend, the biggest smile on his face that only seemed to grow ten times bigger when he saw you getting closer. his long legs helped him reach you even before you could take two steps to get to him. "you did it!” you squealed, engulfing him in your arms. he had to hunch a bit to get himself to your size, and do what he meant to do all along: grab your head in between his hands to plant the biggest kiss to your lips. “you don't know how proud of you i am!" you get to say, before he’s bringing you back in for another bone-crushing hug.

"you're part of this, you know?" he says, his big, blue eyes boring into yours. his forehead is resting against yours softly, and it feels like it’s only you two inside the stadium where the match had taken place. "should i start calling you champion of europe now?" you joke, and john laughs at your quip, head tilted back and all.

"i think it'd be fine if you continue calling me love, sweetheart".

that’s when it occurs to you. you won’t get a better moment than this to announce the sweet news. you two wanted this for so long, it doesn't make sense to wait for another occasion, planning a big announcement when it feels like the correct timing is right now.

"what if i have another nickname for you in a couple months?".

john tilts his head in confusion, backing off a bit to see your face and reactions more clearly. "in a couple of months? why not now?" he asks, and you grin at his dumbfounded face. "they're a bit small now,” you begin, and he opens his eyes wide. “they won't use it for a couple of months…".

"they?" he smiles, while bringing you closer to him, hiding your stomach by his larger frame. he was gripping at your waist before, ever since he caught hold of your figure, but now he's drawing little circles with his thumbs. you don't really know if the loving gesture is due to the implication, or he's just mindlessly doing it. still, it warms your heart, just like the way he's looking into your eyes with his bright, hopeful blue ones.

you nod, and his smile can't get any bigger than it is. "you've just made me the happiest man in the world, you know?" john grins, as he fixes a string of hair behind your ear, that had previously fallen over your eyes. his big hand rests there, on your cheek, softly caressing it and enjoying the soft moment shared between you two.

"thought you already were, with getting the treble and all" you joke, reminding the greatness of what they had just achieved. "good that we won it, then,” john says, heavy barnsley accent clear in his voice. “three trophies for the three of us".

#john stones imagine #john stones x you #john stones x reader #football imagines #football imagine #football x you #football x reader #football fanfic

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floydira · 4 months

Note

Hello there!! Sorry to bother you. I wanted to request a Floyd x Male reader (preferably transmasc but if not it's fine!!) fic. I was thinking maybe the reader was another singer in a band and had beef with brozone but ended up falling for Floyd? (If this is too much it's totally chill, but thank you anyway!!!) - anon ☆—(≧⁠▽°)★~

₊˚﹒✶﹒Love in the Line of Fire .ᐟ

floyd x transmasc reader.

note ; ah no worries anon! it's never a bother when I see anons requests in my inbox. I'd honestly love it more if I keep being drowned with more requests in my inbox. also, your usage of kaomojis is so cute! hopefully this is to your liking <3

the beef probably started because of john dory, riling up your band because he kept blabbering about how brozone is gonna hit the perfect family harmony and playfully belittling your band.

even though you didn't know brozone that well personally, you held a slight grudge towards the said band because of john dory. your band mates grudge towards john dory is much more than yours.

you're not really one to care about problematic matters at hand when you can use that focus to improve your own skills. that's why your grudge wasn't as big as your bandmates. they were quite competitive.

you do admit that brozone's tracks are catchy and pleasant to the ears, but you would be caught dead in a ditch before ever admitting that out loud.

when your band and brozone had to go back to back once, tension was in the air before the performance.

you were focused on your vocal warmups when you noticed a pink haired guy staring at you from across the room. slightly flustered by being caught, the pink haired guy gave you a bashful smile before looking away, putting his focus back to his brothers.

you found out after you finished your performance that his name is floyd, you kept a mental note in your mind to observe him more when you do see him.

little observations turned into fullblown admiration towards floyd whenever you had the chance to meet him in events.

by this time, the beef between brozone and your band died down, so there wasn't really anything stopping you from confronting floyd about your feelings.

except...that performance was his and his brothers last, before he traveled away from his place and away from his brothers. before brozone disbanded completely.

after a few years passed by, your band also disbanded but you were still waiting on floyd to come back, a slight tinge of hope in your heart says that he would. after a few more months pass by and no trace of floyd, your patience for him to come back went to waste. you start to give up and forget about your feelings for him by distracting yourself with other stuff.

that is, until you hear from the chatter around you that brozone is back after 20 years.

you restrained yourself from caring about the news before poppy told you all about what happened and invited you to watch their come back stage. that made you lose your restraints and let curiosity take over you.

you went to the place poppy told you to go to, the first performance were performed by NSYNC, a group you just found out about.

afterwards, brozone members were on stage and after that, poppy got invited to join the band on stage.

poppy brought you and viva along with her to perform.

feeling like there's nothing to lose, you performed perfectly. thanks to your past self secretly watching every brozone performance you could see.

during the performance, you made eye contact with floyd. his face showed a subtle shocked expression, before it turned into a warm smile. you changed your spot to be beside him, so you both performed side by side.

after the performance ended, you confronted floyd hesitantly.

"hey...I know you went through a lot before this and that our bands were technically rivals in the past," you emphasized the 'a lot'

"but I just- I have to let you know that- i- uh- I liked you. well actually, Idostillkindoflikeyourightnowbutidontknowifyoufeelthesameway!" you quickly said the last sentence in one breath.

floyd was surprised. his brothers, viva and poppy all watched you on the sidelines. you can hear poppy cheering you on.

"you...like me?" floyd repeats back

"duh! I spent years waiting and waiting for you to come back just so I could let out my feelings. I waited and waited, yet you didn't come back...I was worried, but more disappointed in myself that I even thought you would come back."

"I was frustrated! frustrated by my own self and by you, until poppy told me everything. that you were kidnapped and getting your life literally sucked out of you just for some teens to get fame with fake talent." you finally uttered out.

you hug floyd and he reciprocates the hug back.

"actually...I like you too. as funny as it sounds, I think I really did fall in love with you when I made eye contact with you the first time. I felt sparks and everything" he chuckles at his own words.

you were now the one surprised

the brothers, viva and poppy all cheered for the both of you.

john dory could be heard in the back saying, "well damn, my brother really is gay..."

you two officially dated afterwards! hooray!

if you decide to tell him about being transmasc, he's super open and supportive about it.

your dates consisted of duetting together, dancing (a fun tango every wednesday? how lovely.), baking together, anything you both mutually like to do.

floyd would definitely love doing your eyeliner for you(since he canonically does his own and wears eyeliner)

#dreamworks trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #trolls Floyd #floyd x reader #trolls Floyd x reader #x reader #imagines

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lazybutsmexy · 7 months

Text

To good use

John "Soap" Mactavish x teacher!Reader

Johnny's mind works at breakneck speed, and you know how to slow him down.

Warnings: none! pure fluff, Johnny has ADHD. GN!Reader.

Words: 700~

A/N: Just a thing I came up with while preparing my lesson plans.

He stands up from the couch, completely disregarding the current football match. His team wasn’t doing well and he grew restless. His bare feet thudded on the wooden floor and took him to the kitchen, from where moments later the scent of freshly made coffee waltzed to you.

You simply let out a soft puff of air, too focused on your task at hand - making sure your scissors didn’t stray a millimeter from the lines you had carefully designed on the brightly coloured craft paper.

A soft ‘thunk’ signaled the presence of a steaming, fresh cup of coffee in front of you. “Thank you, Johnny,” you smiled up at him as he leaned down to peck your cheek. Immediately after, he shuffled over to the large window overseeing the front yard.

The rain smacked heavily into the glass, as if attempting to break in. It wouldn’t - Johnny had made sure that the flimsy single-glass panels were replaced by bulletproof glass the moment you had agreed to date him all those years ago. He loved you and cherished you that much.

You peered at him out of the corner of your eye. The sports commentator shouted another goal for the rival team, but you had a sneaking suspicion he didn’t hear it.

His fingers twitched, and he clenched his hands a few times to relieve the tension. Soon, his fingers found themselves combing through his mohawk. The hair was soft, freshly conditioned after weeks.

You could see the signals. He was itching for something to do. He couldn’t go on a run to wear himself down, nor even to smoke a cigarette in his storm.

It was the part of his character that made you fall in love with him. His romantic spontaneity was born from his ever-working mind, and all the ways his thoughts zeroed in you. It was also his greatest flaw - if you could even call it that. When he lived with a mind that was always speeding at breakneck speed, left unchecked would give him - and you - whiplash.

You snipped the last bit of paper in your hand and glanced at the rest of the materials on your workspace with an idea simmering in between your eyebrows.

Forcing out a yawn and a stretch worked like a charm to bring his attention back to you.

“Tired, bonnie?” he smiled, and by God, you could watch him smile for the rest of your days and be happy. He glanced at the clock on the wall and frowned slightly. “‘s pretty late, you almost done?”

“No,” you moaned pitifully, and drove the point home with a pout and batting eyelashes, “I need help with this if I want to go to sleep before midnight.”

Immediately Johnny was dragging a chair and sitting down in front of you. “Tell me what to do, I’ll help.” Even though he tried to show a finality in his decision to help, you caught the hidden eagerness in his voice.

Your beaming smile seemed to punch all thoughts away from his head as you handed him a stack of colourful paper strips. “Use that glue to stick the tips together to make rings, please,” you instructed him, and he immediately took the tiny tub of glue, “I need them arranged into a chain, the colour order isn’t important.”

Johnny nodded once and muttered a soft “copy” before carefully getting to work. The way he delicately handled the strips showed you that your little plan had worked wonders. You turned your attention to the ornaments you had been working on - only half-made, so the kids would finish the work and get the credit, of course.

“Thank you, Johnny,” he barely glanced up at your voice, obviously fully focused on his new super important task, “you’re a life-saver.”

His little chuckle and the bump of his ankle against yours under the table filled you with warmth, “‘course, can’t leave my bonnie struggling.”

You somehow held back an eyeroll and swallowed the ‘likewise’ that almost escaped your lips. You’d let him take the credit too.

Taglist: @warenai @embers-of-alluring @queen-of-hearts-lemon-tarts

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#john soap mactavish #cod soap #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #civilian!reader #teacher!reader #john soap mactavish fanfiction #soap fanfiction #john soap mactavish imagine #soap imagine #john soap mactavish fluff #soap fluff #soap has adhd #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader

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hockeylovee12 · 16 days

Text

Crossing Enemy Lines

Chapter One

Luke Hughes x Original Character

Summary: When Luke Hughes got drafted by the New Jersey Devils he knew he was entering one of the most intense rivalries in professional hockey. But what he didn't bargain for was falling in love with a Rangers player's sister during his first year in the show.

OR Luke Hughes meets the right girl with the wrong last name.

Warnings: Cussing

November 10th, 2023

Inside a dimly lit bar tucked away in Jersey City, Luke occupies a corner seat surrounded by some of his teammates. His shoulders hunch inside the navy jacket he wears, while a grim scowl tugs at the corner of his mouth.

Around him the sounds of clinking glasses, rhythmic thuds of billiard balls, and lively chatter echo off the walls, creating a cacophony of noise as he tries to drown out the bitter feeling of defeat.

John, slides into the empty seat beside him, nudging his shoulder lightly, "Come on Lukey, Just shake it off, it's not the end of the world" he urges, allowing a smile that doesn't quite reach his warm brown eyes to cross his lips.

Luke turns towards John, his scowl unwavering.

If Luke was a Swiftie, he could point out the irony of John quoting Taylor Swift after they lost to the New York Rangers. But he's not so instead he settles for a half-hearted shrug.

"Seriously, man, you can't let one loss get to you like this," Jack cuts in, placing a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. "Just forget about it. It's one game. We still got three more against those assholes" He adds with the same persuasive tone he used less than an hour ago to convince Luke to come to the bar in the first place.

A heavy sigh escapes Luke's lips as his shoulders slump further.

He can't just forget about it. They lost 1-7 to the New York fucking Rangers, their literal Rivals. The same team they managed to kick out of the playoffs last season, the same team they beat several times in preseason, and the same team they couldn't fucking score against.

It was a complete shit show from start to finish.

A stupid hooking call cost them the game's first goal. Then a series of shitty defense decisions, put them in a hole they couldn't climb out of. And then there was Igor fucking Shesterkin, standing on his head and making 23 saves out of 24 shots like he was some kind of brick wall. The one goal they managed to squeeze past him was a lucky bounce that barely counted.

It was infuriating to watch Panarin and Zibanejad dance circles around their defense, while they couldn't even get a decent scoring chance on the other side.

Luke is momentarily pulled away from his bitter recounter of the game, as the loud laughter of his teammates, Nate and Dawson echoes throughout the space, as they return to their table with a fresh round of drinks.

"What's with the long face, Rusty?" Dawson asks, as he sets down the glasses, with a clink, and claps Luke on the shoulder.

"Don't tell me you're still moping about tonight's loss" Nate jokes, his tone light and teasing, as he sticks to his well-known game philosophy of 'play and move on'.

A sentiment clearly not shared by every member of the Devils.

"Shut it, Bass" Luke mumbles, shooting him an irritated glare.

A small chuckle rumbles from Dawson's chest, "Come on man. Don't be like that" he says as Luke's lips return to a scowl.

"Alright fine, if you're gonna pout about the game at least do it well drinking so you're not a buzzkill" Dawson boasts as he slides a fresh beer across the table to Luke, which would otherwise be inaccessible to him seeing as how he's still got 10 months till he can order one for himself-at least legally.

Luke accepts the beer with a resigned sigh, his hazel eyes somewhat softening for the first time tonight, as the crisp, tangy scent wafts towards him "Easy for you to say, you weren't the one getting ragdolled by fucking Trouba every damn shift."

"Tell me about it," Nate shakes his head in dismay. "Did you see the way he drove Jonas into the boards in the third? Could've broken some ribs with that bullshit cheapshot."

"Jacob Trouba's a fucking punk, can't believe he wears the C" Jack adds

"They're all fucking punks" Luke mutters

"At least our rookies' loyalties lie with the right team" Nate jokes, as he reaches across the table to ruffle Luke's hair, much to his annoyance.

"Their dirty fucking players" Luke adds, taking a sip of his beer

"Ok true, but we can't let them get in our heads" John states with conviction. "They can play as dirty as they want, alright we just gotta focus on our game"

"Mr. Harvard's right" Nate says confidently, raising his now half-full beer "Next game, we return the favor and shut up those loudmouths"

"That's not-"

"Alright guys enough dwelling on that shit show," Dawson states, "We're supposed to be blowing off steam tonight, not sitting around feeling sorry for ourselves."

Jack nods in agreement "Daws is right, we won't seem em for a while anyway, so let's stop talking about the Rangers"

The group mutters in agreement before falling into silence, waiting for a new topic to arise.

"Did you guys see Haula's reaction to the prank Nate and I pulled on him yesterday?" Dawson asks

"That was you guys, Damn he was pissed" John says

"Hey payback bitch he shouldn't have put shaving cream in our skates. Piece of shit" Nate claims, his voice wavering with some degree of platonic affection for one of their older teammates.

Most of the group chuckles at Nate's anecdote, except for Luke, who's still stuck in his own head.

"Remember that time, we triple knotted every pair of Quinn's shoes" Jack asks, gently nudging Luke's arm.

A faint smile tugs at the corner of Luke's mouth as the memory surfaces "Ya, he tried to shove his big ass feet into my Vans"

"And then he spent the next week trying to get us back" Jack adds, grinning "And failed miserably every time."

Luke let's out a soft chuckle, it's not his usual boisterous laugh, but hey it's a start.

*****

As the night wears on, the lively conversation and laughter enveloping their table slowly eases the weight of the loss from Luke's shoulders.

Then in the midst of a lively discussion about fantasy football with Dawson, Jack and John, his attention absentmindedly drifts towards the door, and his gaze suddenly locks onto the captivating sight of a stunning girl with cascading locks of dark-chocolate colored hair, and a warm smile, gracefully stepping into the bar.

"Hey, where did Nate disappear to?" John's question floats through the air momentarily anchoring Luke back to the table strewn with empty glasses.

Their eyes wander around the bar, until the spot Nate weaving his way through a small crowd an impish grin plastered on his face.

"Big news boys! Guess who's got a date tomorrow!" he boasts, wavering around a paper napkin that seemingly has a phone number written on it-whether it was actually the girls or a random one made up on the spot, we may never know-prompting a chorus of laughter to ripple across the table.

Luke cracks a smile too, but it's not one that reaches his eyes. They've wandered off already, tracking the girl he spotted moments ago, who now leans casually against the bar counter, her fingers drumming a silent rhythm on its surface as she waits for her drink.

"Luke?" Jack's voice cuts through his thoughts, sharp enough to draw attention, yet laced with a hint of concern "You okay, man?"

"Uh, yeah" Luke stammers, trying to mask how his focus had strayed. He forces himself to lock eyes with Jack hoping to convey a sense of normalcy.

But Jack knows him too well, reads him too easily and one look at Luke's face tells him where his brother's mind had wandered off to.

Luke's eyes quickly shift towards the girl again, who's retrieving her drink from the bar, and takes a small sip.

"Earth to Luke," John teases.

All heads subtly turn to acknowledge the object of Luke's distraction, watching as she walks towards the vacant pool table.

"Looks like someone caught your eye" Dawson says with a wry smile, elbowing Luke playfully.

"Looks like your type too," Jack adds, a sly grin crossing his lips. "Why don't you go say hi?"

"Come on, man" John's encouragement is gentle, persuasive "Take your mind off things for a bit"

"Go ahead rook" Nate prods "Show us what you've got"

Luke hesitates for a moment, allowing the suggestion to linger in the air.

Before a not so subtle shove to the shoulder by Jack, causes him to push his chair back and stand up.

"Alright wish me luck" He mutters

"Attaboy!" Nate exclaims, clapping his shoulder.

The cool air circulating inside the bar brushes against the small amounts of exposed skin, as he crosses the short distance to the pool table.

"Hey," he says, flashing a quick grin that hopefully looks more charming than nervous.

"Hi," the girl replies, her voice a melodic hint of intrigue. She looks up, a smile teasing at the corners of her lips. "I'm Jordan"

"Luke" he offers back, a tentative smile of his own forming.

"Want to play?" she asks, gesturing to the table with a cue stick.

"Sure," Luke responds, retrieving a cue from the rack on the wall.

"So are you any good?" Jordan teases, as she lines up for her shot.

"Depends on the day," Luke admits, watching as she sinks a solid ball into a corner pocket.

"Looks like today might be my day then" she quips, with a soft smile on her face as she steps to the side.

Luke chuckles as he takes his shot, cleanly sinking a striped ball into a corner pocket. "Guess we'll see about that."

*****

As the game plays out, the rhythmic clack of pool balls blends nicely with their voices, providing a backdrop as they learn more about one another.

"So, Jordan," he asks curiosity gleaming in his eyes, "what brings you here tonight?"

Jordan leans against her cue, "Just wanted to explore a little"

Luke lets out a soft laugh as he lines up his shot, expertly guiding the striped ball into the middle pocket "You from around here?" he asks

Jordan leans forward, cue in hand and takes her shot. The satisfying click of the pool balls echoing in the bar, signaling another point for her.

She straightens up and glances at Luke with a smirk, "New York City" she replies

"Let me guess, you're a secret pool shark, got bored of the games up there?" he asks, his tone laced with a sense of humor, as he takes his shot and the ball ricochets off the side and misses sinking into the pocket by an inch.

"Close I'm a student at NYU" she answers

"NYU, wow that's really impressive. What's you studying?" Luke questions watching as she sinks another ball

Jordan shrugs, a modest smile on her lips "I just started up a few weeks ago, but I'm majoring in English Lit" she replies

"English Lit, huh, you a big reader?" Luke asks

"Yeah, there's just something about getting lost in a good book, you know?"

"Yeah I do" Luke agrees "Although I probably don't read as much as I should. Maybe you can recommend something for me?"

"I'd love to," Jordan says, her eyes sparkling. "But only if you promise me you'll actually read it."

"Cross my heart," Luke grins, making an exaggerated gesture.

Their eyes meet, a spark of connection passing between them as they share a smile.

Jordan leans against the pool table, studying Luke for a moment before asking, "So, what about you? What's your story?"

Luke hesitates, his mind racing as he considers how to respond. His eyes briefly flicker to his teammates, still laughing and joking at their table.

He's seen it before, seen it a handful of times over the past few months since he's become an NHL player, hell he saw it before too, with both his brothers being in the show.

The way people's perceptions change when they learn of his profession, or his last name, the way their eyes widen with awe or narrow with skepticism, or the way the conversation shifts completely and suddenly their no longer talking to him, their either talking at him telling him their thoughts and opinions about him, or they throw questions at him like a round of rapid fire, wanting to know what life in the NHL is really like.

And so, in this moment, with Jordan's eyes on him, warm and inviting. Luke decides tonight he's not a hockey player, he's not Hughes, he's just a guy enjoying a night out and connecting with a beautiful girl over a game of pool.

"Well, uh-I'm originally from New Hampshire" he begins, the half-truth rolling off his tongue "But I moved out here for school. Studying sports business"

He sinks another ball, the satisfying clack echoing in the bar.

He was born in New Hampshire, even if he hasn't lived there since he was 3, and technically, he's doing something with sports business, just not studying it, so it's not completely a lie or at least that's what he tells himself.

"What made you interested in sports business?" Jordan remarks, her eyes sparkling with genuine interest.

"I've always been pretty active, played a lot of sports growing up," Luke explains, watching as Jordan takes her turn, expertly maneuvering the cue ball. "I guess I just wanted to find a way to stay involved, even if I'm not playing, you know?"

Jordan nods, understanding in her eyes. "That makes sense."

As they continue to talk, the game progresses, with Jordan maintaining a slight lead. She sinks her last solid ball, leaving only the 8-ball and one striped ball remaining.

"You're pretty good at this," Luke says, lining up his shot.

"Ya well growing up with an older brother has its perks, taught me how to handle my own" Jordan replies, brushing a strand of brown hair from her face.

"Sounds like a good guy" Luke says just before hitting his last striped ball into a middle pocket

"Most of the time," she admits

A small smile tugs at Luke's lips as he watches Jordan ready herself for the final shot, "Your form could use some work, though" Luke teases

"Is that so?" Jordan smirks, glancing up at him.

"Maybe just a little" Luke grins, with a playful glint in his eyes "Care to prove me wrong?"

Jordan leans in, focusing on the shot. With a smooth, confident motion, she strikes the cue ball, sending the 8-ball rolling towards the corner pocket. It teeters on the edge for a brief moment before dropping in with a satisfying thud.

"Looks like I just did," Jordan grins, straightening up and facing Luke.

Luke chuckles, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "I guess I stand corrected. Clearly, you've got this game figured out."

They share a smile, the air between them charged with a flirtatious energy. Jordan takes a step closer, her eyes locked on Luke's.

"Well, maybe I just got lucky," she murmurs, her voice low and playful.

"Or maybe you're just that good," Luke counters, his gaze drifting to her lips for a fleeting moment.

The tension between them is palpable, the rest of the bar fading into the background as they stand mere inches apart. Jordan's hand brushes against Luke's, sending a jolt of electricity through his body.

"I guess we'll have to play again sometime," Jordan suggests, her tone laced with promise. "Give you a chance to redeem yourself."

"I'd like that," Luke replies, his voice soft and sincere.

Jordan smiles, a genuine, warm expression that makes Luke's heart skip a beat, as she reaches for her phone. "Here, put your number in, and I'll text you."

Jordan smiles before adding "Maybe next time, I'll even let you win."

Luke laughs, shaking his head. "Oh, you're on. But I won't need you to let me win. I can do that all on my own." he says as he takes the phone, his fingers brushing against hers as he types in his number.

There's a spark, a jolt of electricity that passes between them, and for a moment, the rest of the world falls away.

"I don't doubt it for a second," Jordan grins, the admiration clear in her eyes.

When he hands the phone back, their eyes meet once more, a silent acknowledgment of the connection they both feel.

"I should probably get going," Jordan says reluctantly, glancing at the time. "Early class tomorrow."

"Of course," Luke nods, trying to ignore the twinge of disappointment in his chest.

Luke nods, trying to ignore the twinge of disappointment in his chest. "It was nice to meet you Jordan"

"It was nice to meet you too Luke"

Luke grins, watching as she gathers her things and heads for the door.

Luke stands there for a moment, watching as Jordan's silhouette fades into the night, a grin plastered across his face. The cool evening breeze rustles his hair, but he barely notices, his mind still replaying the events of the past few hours.

With a final glance at the door, Luke turns and makes his way back to the table where his teammates await. As he approaches, he can see their faces light up with a mix of curiosity and good-natured mischief.

*****

"Well, well, well," Nate drawls, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. "Look who decided to grace us with his presence again."

"Shut it Nate" Luke replies, but there's no heat behind his words. He slides into his seat, grabbing his half-finished beer and taking a swig.

"So..." John says, a smile tugging at his lips.

"So?" Luke questions taking another sip

Dawson and John exchange a look, "Give us details?!" Dawson encourages

Luke rests his elbow on the table, and locks eyes with his teammates before letting out a simple "No"

Dawson, John and Nate's mouths dramatically drop, as if Luke just informed them that he's the notorious Zodiac Killer.

"Luke!' Dawson exclaims

"Aw, come on!" John protests, a good-natured grin on his face. "You can't leave us hanging like that. Did you get her number? Are you gonna see her again?"

"Maybe," Luke replies, a hint of mystery in his voice.

Nate leans forward, a mischievous glint in his eye. "So, what's her name? Come on, you gotta give us something, man."

Luke takes a sip of his beer, a small smile playing on his lips. "Her name's Jordan, and that's all you're getting out of me tonight."

"Jordan, huh?" Dawson repeats, waggling his eyebrows. "And what does this mystery girl do? Is she a student? A model? A secret agent?"

Luke chuckles, shaking his head. "She's a student, but that's all I'm saying. You guys are worse than a bunch of gossiping old ladies."

"Hey, we're just looking out for our boy," John defends, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "We gotta make sure she's good enough for our rookie."

"Trust me, she's more than good enough," Luke assures them, a hint of admiration in his voice.

"Ooh, sounds like someone's smitten!" Nate teases, reaching over to ruffle Luke's hair.

Luke swats his hand away, laughing. "Shut up, I am not. It was one game of pool and I had a good time, that's all."

"One game of pool that lasted, what, two hours?" Dawson teases, giving Luke a playful shove. "Face it, Hughesy, you're smitten."

Luke rolls his eyes, but before he can retort, Jack stands up and stretches. "Alright, boys, as much as I'd love to sit here and watch you interrogate my little brother all night, we should probably head out."

A chorus of groans rises from the table, but the guys begrudgingly agree. They settle their tab and say their goodbyes, each one giving Luke a final nudge or wink before heading out into the night.

As Jack and Luke step outside, the cool night air hits them, a refreshing change from the stuffy bar. They walk side by side, hands shoved in their pockets, the silence between them comfortable and familiar.

After a few moments, Jack glances over at his brother, a small smile on his face. "So, this Jordan girl," he begins, his tone casual. "She seems to have made quite an impression on you."

Luke ducks his head, feeling a flush creep up his neck. "Yeah, I guess she did," he admits, kicking a pebble along the sidewalk. "I don't know, man, there's just something about her. It's like... like we just clicked, you know?"

Jack nods, a look of understanding on his face. "I get it," he says, a note of wistfulness in his voice. "When you meet someone special, it's like everything just falls into place."

They walk in silence for a few more blocks, each lost in their own thoughts. As they approach their apartment building, Jack turns to Luke, a serious expression on his face.

"Just be careful, okay?" he says, his tone gentle but firm. "I know you're excited about this girl, and I'm happy for you, I really am. But don't forget who you are, and what you're here to do."

Luke meets his brother's gaze, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. "I know," he sighs, running a hand through his hair. "It's just... it's nice to feel normal for once, you know? To just be Luke, not Luke Hughes, the hockey player."

Jack puts a hand on his brother's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I get it," he says, a hint of a smile on his face. "And you deserve that, Luke. You deserve to be happy, both on and off the ice. Just don't lose sight of what's important, okay?"

Luke nods, feeling a surge of gratitude for his brother's support and understanding. "Thanks, Jack," he says, bumping his shoulder against his brother's as they enter the building.

As they ride the elevator up to their floor, Luke can't help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling up inside him.

Meanwhile, across the Hudson River, Jordan steps out of her Uber, the upscale apartment building looming before her. She thanks the driver and makes her way through the lobby, the click of her shoes echoing off the polished floors, as she makes her way to an apartment door.

As she enters she's greeted by the sight of hockey memorabilia adorning the walls, a New York Rangers jersey bearing her brother's name and number taking center stage.

Careful not to wake Jacob and his wife, Jordan tiptoes to her room, a soft smile playing on her lips as she replays the evening's events in her mind. She goes through her nightly routine, the familiarity of it soothing after the excitement of the night.

Settling into bed, Jordan reaches for her phone, the screen illuminating her face in the darkened room. She opens her messages and starts a new conversation with Luke, her fingers dancing across the keyboard.

Hey, it's Jordan. I had a great time tonight. We should do it again sometime :)

With a satisfied grin, she hits send and places her phone on the nightstand, letting the promise of future adventures lull her to sleep.

#luke hughes #nj devils #jack hughes #hughes brothers #quinn hughes #original story #crossing enemy lines #ny rangers #jacob trouba

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this-is-my-funny-reblogs-account · 1 year

Text

I didn't double read it or check this after writing. It's just pure - fast before I'd be too lazy to write this! So I'm sorry for any typos.

So y'all I'm typing this on my phone in English with Canadian French keyboard, before my hype dies out! This one is set in the @uselsshuman 141 families AU. I know that the idea behind the 141 wives is to keep them as blank slates for anyone to picture themselves but I can't help but give them distinguished personalities because why not 👀.

You can treat it a sort of

'what kind of girl I see each 141 guy with?'

Let's begin! I wrote those with civilian partners in mind 👀.

Warning: sex mentioned (it's a normal part of being in a relationship but minors better sit this one out)

John 'Soap' MacTavish

I picture him dating a daydreamer, someone who has imagination and a dash of wildness in her. Soap is an adventurous guy and he'd like to share this with his love. They definitely travel a lot together because world is beautiful and they want to experience it with one another.

Soap's girlfriend can allow herself to be a bit idealistic, with her mind in the clouds, because it keeps Soap's mind away from the harsh reality. In case he dies, she still will have a strong support system in his family, friends and community. She's not alone.

Their relationship is very affectionate and like a never ending honeymoon phase. Basically both of them are aware that what Soap does is dangerous and their relationship can end on a dime with his death. That's why they try to keep it constantly fresh and exciting. Who knows how long they can enjoy one another's company so they better spend it in the best possible way.

I think that they're the kind of couple that doesn't have big arguments. They're a team not rivals. Sure, Soap sometimes leaves the toilet lid open and his girlfriend tends to burn dinner a bit because she's been focusing on some random idea instead of paying attention but at the end of the day those things don't really matter - they're together for the good time and not necessarily long time (as in he can die at any moment, because those two are together for life.)

If any big arguments happen, they're regarding their son. As in "I know what's best for him" kind. Whenever arguing they do try to not yell at one another, and go to bed angry. Banishing to sofa doesn't really happen because both of them have hard time sleeping alone when they know their partner is nearby.

Sue me but I really like John dating a Polish girl 🫣 and I guess I'm not the only one. Soap surely gets protective of her and is ready to throw fists if anyone disrespects his missus. Sometimes he'd just annoy her how she's constantly grumpy because of the 'no smiling in public spaces' culture in her country. Other times he'd say she's like a model on a runway "because I'm so hot 😍? No, because you never smile 🤣. John!"

Their relationship is very physical, both romantically and sexually. They boink a lot and it is usually pretty funny. They do laugh a lot because sex is awkward sometimes and they are a playful couple altogether. Sometimes Soap will romance his way like Gomez Adams, other times he'd just put his penis on his girlfriend's shoulder while she's reading a book and say in a high pitched voice "hello" and that's his idea of charming his lady. I feel like they'd be the couple on a search for the most wacky condom. Neon green, glowing in the dark, and tasting like bacon - they've tried all of those.

MacTavish duo definitely cuddles a lot. Both at home and in public. It's not unusual to see Soap's girlfriend just nuzzling him or Johnny holding her tight and giving her forehead kisses.

Some might think that Soap's girlfriend is just a damsel in distress, waiting patiently for her prince charming - nothing further from truth. Since her boyfriend disappears for months, she has a life outside of the relationship. She goes to work, meets with her numerous friends (her skill of finding accidentally everyone's identity because she's friends with X wife is quite famous) and has her hobbies. She probably likes nature and keeps multiple plants (only after making sure those won't hurt their three cats) so her and Soap's place looks like a jungle on occasion. She might have some artistic hobbies like writing, painting or drawing. She's self sufficient on her own, but her life is better with Johnny.

She calms him down and grounds Soap in reality. After all she's mostly in Hereford so whenever Johnny gets back she informs him what has changed in the town or their house and how they're now doing certain things.

While Soap is a clown, she's his audience and even though she tends to react like she's annoyed with his antics, she loves how playful he is. Like Jessica Rabbit - he makes me laugh.

She's the disciplinary of the family, mostly because she knows that Soap won't be. He wants to be the fun dad for Fergus, because again he doesn't know how long he'll be there to cherish this life. Nevertheless, sometimes you have to lay down the rules and here's where Soap's girlfriend enters the scene. They're both pretty chill and loving parents though.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Simon's wife is pragmatic and doesn't accept any bullshit, she has a job to be done and that's her focus. Unlike Soap's darling, she's on her own if something happens to her husband, and she knew it upfront before getting into the relationship with him.

Ghost got serious with her because he knew that she can carry on if he's KIA, he knows she can handle his emotional baggage and his character. She's not the one to cry or complain about her life, she just gets shit done, no questions asked.

Sometimes she gets frustrated with Simon's bullshit (who wouldn't honestly) but she's the only person whose opinion really matters to Ghost. She can lift him up and knock him down like nobody else. She's equally calm and understanding person who soothes Ghost, and the force that pushes Simon to be a better person if he needs to be told off.

I think that's the main reason why he married her, she makes him a better person. She's strong but calm, patient but reasonably so, and she cares about him. He had difficult life and his upbringing was anything but perfect but this woman makes him care. She makes him feel something else than anger and pain and for that he's forever grateful.

Their love language is quality time but since they're unusual couple it's not what you think. Their home is their castle and they relax the best while at home. Even if their house is full of children they do bond together via chores. Soft conversations while folding the laundry together, sprinkled with jokes, Simon fixing the leaking pipe without being asked to do so, her making his favorite dish just because he'd enjoy this, cooking together - Simon as an ex-bucher appreciate would handle meat while his wife prepares veggies, on occasion they'd compte who can make their part of the dinner faster. Just mindlessly watching TV together with their dogs and commenting how ridiculous Come Dine with me is or how "this blonde chick should have picked Zack rather than Jacob! Zack at least tried, and prepared his dessert from scratch to impress her" while watching Dinner Date. Trash talking game shows participants is their definition of entertainment.

When his wife was expecting their first daughter Simon panicked. He was sure he'd be a horrible dad and kids aren't for him. His wife was quick to knock him down to Earth - you're a dad now so step up. She'd remind him that he's his own person and regardless of how shitty his dad was, he turned out to be a good guy and he's so caring he'll be an amazing dad.

Their sex life is a mess. I think they're the kind of couple that gets so into it that sometimes wrapping it takes a back seat. Hence the five children they have together. With brood this size, it's difficult to take time for the proper intimate time but they're doing with what they have. Unlike Soap and his girlfriend, Riley's have the bunny phase behind them. They still boink and it's still very satisfying when it happens, just with five kids it's not always possible. Sometimes they're just too tired and it's ok. There are days when Ghost doesn't feel like having sex and his wife gets it. Sometimes she's not in the mood and he's ok with that. Their need for intimacy can be fulfilled by just having a moment for themselves to cuddle and hold one another.

Mrs Riley has her own business. Idk why but I can see her having a very niche, online business. Like she's making stained glass windows and decorations. She has her own workshop and she's making money on her hobby. It lets her stay at home with her daughters (and later with her son) but she's not fully dependent on Simon's income.

I remember someone mentioning that she's an American so I'm going with that. She has the 'fish out of water' moments, even after years of living in the UK. Like the little moments of 'right, you guys do/don't do that'. She's probably fascinated how old/small everything is in England or how brick house are basically a standard instead of drywall.

Even though both she and Simon are similar when it comes to discipline, I think their children are more likely to ask her as she's a bit less strict than their dad. When her daughters start dating she's more calm about it. Simon isn't the shotgun dad, but he does feel uncomfortable that his girls are growing and he was often absent. He would do the whole "scary dad show" but it's nothing more than a show. He's not intimidating his daughters' boyfriends on purpose. It's like a by-product of him looking like a tree trunk. His wife definitely plays along and they later laugh about it together when the young couple leaves on their date. She also supports their kids no matter what and she's as proud of Lottie making a cake as she's from Aya getting an A from the test. She knows that her kids are different people and she supports their decisions and goals for the future.

Mrs Riley isn't much of a romantic soul. She'd take a practical gift over flowers any day. If Simon isn't there to fix something she'll do it herself because there's job to be done. She's a hard-working person and someone very practical. She's calm but not beyond calling her husband a dumbass if he deserves this. However, she'd never call him names when she can see he has one of his episodes. She's ultimately there to support him through thick and thin.

John Price

Mrs Price is the OG wife as a captain's spouse. She and Ghost's wife are the OG 141 wives so she's a bit like a mom-friend to the group. She's the closest to what a typical army wife would be (in non Karen way) as she's the only homemaker in the group.

She is a bit old fashioned, just like her husband she's in her late 30s. She's still a sassy lady so you better not underestimate her as she's the ultimate leader of all military wives in Hereford. Not because of her husband's position but because she's a nice person and a true leader. She's not the queen B who makes everyone bow down to her, but rather someone so helpful and wise that people are willing to follow her lead.

She's engages in her community and is always there to help, especially the new girls and guys who just learn what's like to be a spouse of a soldier. She organizes a lot of events and get-togethers for them so they'd develop a nice support system to comfort one another, whether it is because of the distance or death of the spouse. While Soap's girlfriend knows everyone on accident, Mrs Price knows people on purpose and can match friends perfectly.

She's from New Zealand so she does bond with Mrs Riley over being a non-European in Europe. She misses the Pacific Ocean, hence trips by the seaside are pretty common in the Price household. She makes sure her children are at least familiar with their Kiwi side.

She and her husband are something between MacTavish duo and Riley's when it comes to affection. They do like to stroll together, hold hands and share soft kisses, but you won't see them glued to one another like the MacTavish Turtledoves. However, she finds them adorable and likes to reflect on "young love" with her husband. Little does people know that back in the early 2000s when not-yet-captain Price was on his training in New Zealand he was quite a romantic when he tried to woo a nice, Kiwi lady. One could say that they were whipped for one another.

She's super confident in herself and her relationship, without being narcissistic. She knows where she stands with her marriage and she knows her value as a person. If anyone tries to knock her down from her throne, they're in for a surprise. Mrs Price is nice and very motherly but you don't want to get on her bad side. Remember she's a well respected member of the community and an influential figure without pulling the "My husband is a captain of an elite squad" card.

Her and her husband sex life is very fulfilling and they still keep things fresh. Just because they're reaching their 40s doesn't mean that the passion just died out. They might not have sex every day anymore but when it happens, oh boy they're definitely very VERY satisfied afterwards. Both sides try to look desirable for one another so no boredom in bedroom for sure. Price probably still keeps a sexy pic of his wife on him when he's deployed.

Even though Mrs Price is very wise and responsible for everyone she's not boring. She's pretty chill person who avoids conflicts. Like the perfect client who once told there's no chicken salad, instead of wanting to talk to the manager would just order Greek salad because people working in services have difficult job already. She likes to joke too and it's not uncommon to hear her make fun of herself or her husband.

She could run for a local politician office and would win because she's clearly the most competent person for this job. She's aware of this but we're back to her pretty chill personality - she doesn't want to. Official function would keep her busy and away from her family and friends. It would make her unhappy in the longer run. Just because she's not employed doesn't mean that she has no work experience or experience in case she'd have to/want to work. She's constantly learning new things and developing as a person. Organizing the school's Christmas Market that turns out to be bigger than the Christmas market organized by the town surely counts as management skills.

Just like Ghost's wife she can handle being left alone if her husband dies, but just like Soap's girlfriend, she has a strong community to rely on if something happens. She has been there for others so the others would be there for her.

I picture her as a very elegant lady. She'd wear pearl earrings and pencil dresses. She always looks very elegant and professional whenever she's outside. At home it's a different story altogether and Price (and their children) is the only one who gets to see her in yoga pants and a hoodie.

She's the disciplinary parent for sure but just like in case of Riley's it's 50/50 when it comes to being the responsible parent. Mrs Price does points out to her husband whenever he's not as strict with their daughter as he was with their twins.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

Now Kyle is a pretty chill guy so I can picture him as the soothing partner to his wife. Mrs Garrick is definitely the louder and emotional one of the two. Ironically she's the one that brings chaos into their lives but Gaz is into it actually.

Mrs Garrick tends to overthinking and overreact a little, and Kyle is the only person who can calm her down almost instantly. Just knowing that she's enough to him and he's proud of her, calms her down a bit.

She's a primary school teacher and she loves her job. Kyle just likes to hang around her when she's grading tests and sometimes she'd read him funny and stupid answers her students put on the tests. Yes. They're making fun of how stupid children are sometimes. Nothing against children themselves, they're just funny.

Just like Mrs Riley and Mrs Price, she's a busy woman who loves her job. Gaz support her and encourage her to develop her career. Sometimes Mrs Garrick feels insecure but her man is always there to proof to her that she's amazing. He admires her a lot and how she's putting an extra mile to help children from the poorer communities because everyone deserves good education in her eyes.

Both she and Gaz would like to see the world as a better place, that's why they're doing what they're doing. Their relationship is also very funny, as they have many inside jokes that started as something awkward. Like Kyle saying that his "friend thinks you look cute" then pointing out somewhere and running to that exact place, and the time he tried to come up with the conversation started so he asked "Sooo...do you like ducks?"

Their idea of romance is watching Bee movie together and laughing. Garrick's also like to walk together in a park, feed ducks and enjoy the outdoors. Not in a wilderness sense like MacTavish but in a nature in the town sense. They like to go on a little trips in their county and visit unusual places that they know one another would like Cider museum or The Chained Library. They can be unapologetically themselves when they're together and they embrace their weirdness. They definitely attend the annual Cheese Rolling Competition at Cooper's Hill, near Gloucester. Now whether or not Gaz actively participates and tries to catch the cheese is only for his wife to know.

Gaz didn't want any children and his wife always said that she already has 18 children in her care so she doesn't need more. So Rose was a very much an unplanned child but she was still a wanted one. Both parents were panicking once they've learned that there's a bun in the oven but in the end they decided that parenthood is yet another crazy thing in their life that they'll embrace together. Both parents love Rose and after she was born they felt even more happy and in love than before. Neither of them thought it was possible.

Mrs Garrick is a Welsh woman so her mom is a very important figure in the family. It often causes arguments between her and her husband because he feels like his mother-in-law's influence on their family is bigger than he'd like it to be. However, he understands that when he's gone for months it's good for his wife to have someone to rely on.

Garrick's are still a young couple so sex is a pretty common activity they engage in. I'd place them 2nd after the MacTavish duo (3rd place is Price's and 4th belongs to "I pity your wife if you think 6 minutes is forever" Riley's) they tend to treat the activity more seriously than Soap and his girlfriend. I'd say that they are the old school romantics in this department but whatever floats their boat is still there. They want to please one another so they definitely discuss kinks and what they want to try next time.

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