#John because. this ain’t about him.

[quietwingsinthesky]

the Gabriel/Loki episode of the winchesters was good though. That one can stay.

[voilaammayi]

John Watson saying you join me and my companion/colleague/friend/flat mate while the only thing I can think of is oh please cut the bullshit.

Companion is already the gayest word in existence and yet you want to salvage yourself by flat mate in a desperate try of not using roommate which is actually nothing more than just the second gayest word in existence and you and I both know it.

Who do you think you’re fooling John, my beloved sweet summer child, only yourself I’m afraid.

[queenheritageposts]

chat i have a question because it’s been bugging me for years

[elysianightsss]

He laughed so bostrously, lips closing around his cigar while he did so, blue eyes not leaving yours as you got out your keys ready to enter your house, white picket fencing the only thing separating the two of you.

“Thank you.” You smiled his way, ecstatic with the compliment. You’d only been driving a little while so to hear how good he thought you were at parking made your chest swell with pride.

“John Price.” He spoke again coming closer this time, blowing the smoke from his mouth, head turned so as not to blow it in your direction. You gulped watched a single bead of sweat roll down the skin of his thick neck.

You have to blink yourself back to the present as he’s extending his hand to you over your side of the fence, only coming up to your waist.

You grabbed his hand, a little suprised with how hot it was, slightly sweaty too. You told him your name in return, cheeks flushing slightly, more than they already were from the heat of the day when he hummed approvingly repeating it like he’s testing it out so he can use it more often.

“God it’s hot today ain’t it.” The question was obviously rhetorical as the sun was beating down on the both of you as you spoke. It was so far what they called ‘the hottest day of the year’ and this time the weather girl wasn’t lying. You’d had to put sun cream on before you left the office because of how hot it was.

Thank goodness your office building had air conditioning because you don’t know how you would have survived otherwise. As soon as you walked out the hot air was choking and the sun’s heat was awful after being in the nice cold all day.

“It’s better than it raining though.” John spoke again almost trying to fill the gap where he thought you may have commented.

“I don’t know, I kinda like the rain and the cold. It’s nice when you get to have the fire going and cuddling up on the sofa with an old movie or book, maybe some hot cocoa-“ you began to ramble on all the things you like about autumn and winter. All the while John is watching with a smile on his face, picturing doing all those things with you.

He’s more distracted than you are that there’s an awkward pause when you stop rambling, he’s still in a trance while you stand there biting your lip nervously as he simply stares at you.

“Doing some gardening?” You try to break the silence to which he slightly jumps, eyes regaining their focus on you.

“Yeah, thought I’d do the front of the house up a bit, make it look somewhat presentable.” He chuckled looking back at his handy work, it didn’t look half bad. The lawn was mowed and he had started to plant some seeds by the looks of it.

“Looks a lot better than my dump, I never have time for it.” You say with a laugh, glancing over your shoulder at the overgrown grass and dying flowers you’d planted last spring to try and making the place look better. Fail.

“You work a lot huh? I see you coming and going most days. Barely ever home.” He tilts his head, arms folded over his chest bringing his cigar up to his mouth once more.

“I only get weekends off, and they’re really the only time I spend at home if you don’t count coming home to sleep at night.” You sigh thinking about how hard you had worked today, always taking on problems that maybe you should let others handle but then you wouldn’t be paid as much as you get.

“I’m glad I’m retired, but I must admit it’s rather boring.” He inhaled the smoke, a thinking look clear on his rugged face.

“You don’t look old enough to be retired.” You comment, not meaning to say it out loud. Your eyes widening once you realise you have.

“I’ll take that as a compliment love.” He laughs, the corners of his eyes creasing when he does. His thick beard surrounding the way his lips curve up in smile. Your face burns and you definitely look like a tomato right now.

“I best go inside and shower off today.” You smile at him with a small wave before turning on your heal and heading inside. You slump against the front door cursing yourself. “Stupid stupid stupid.” Heading upstairs you do exactly what you said you would, shower.

That’s why you don’t hear the lawnmower turn on again, that’s why you don’t notice it’s right outside your house, that’s why you don’t notice that John Price is mowing your lawn as you scrub your white loofa over your legs. But when you’re done and you look out your bedroom window, your heart stops.

Your handsome neighbour, is cutting your grass in the hot sun, without a shirt on. He spots you staring a sends a wink your way…..that man will be the death of you.

[letsnotperceive]

Okay, I just can’t stop thinking about John Price honestly. Especiallyyy after he’s *retired*!!

Here is a little drabble (is that the right word? Can’t remember, I’m new here). It gets a little 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 (18+) towards the bottom but nothing crazy. F!Reader

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢

﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉ ୨ᰔ୧ ﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉

✧.* Because sure, big buff military man who’s puffin’ more smoke than a chimney is cool and all. But give me sleepy, squishy, human teddy bear Price. Give me Price who’s perpetually exhausted after carrying the weight of the world on his back. Price that just wants to hibernate for a while with his luv.

✧.*Im thinking he’s all softened up around the edges. All that muscle mass doesn’t disappear over night, but as time passes and he’s no longer on an extensive workout routine, it ain’t sticking around forever. Big ol’ pecs that you can squish your face against, a little padding to his stomach. Hold on, stay with me now 🤤

✧.* Of course, he’s still got that grizzly sort of appearance. All mapped in scars and maybe the occasional burn from those late nights spent at his desk with a cigar between his fingers while he’s drifting in and out of consciousness with exhaustion. The damn workaholic! Hairy too; least we forget—that beard and those arms. Oh lord.

✧.*Maybe one day you realize in that post retirement laze of his (which is well deserved, mind you. Don’t give him a hard time now) that he’s looking a lil’ extra scraggly. You sit on the bathroom counter, and with a delicate hand and a very distracted focus, you give his beard a shave. All cute and romantic, the room still steamy from your shared shower…

BAD. Mistake. You both agree to never let it happen again. An angel just lost its wings!! Leave his beard alone 😭

✧.*Treat this man so good, he deserves it. Whether you like to cook or not, you find yourself gravitating to the kitchen on occasion to make sure he’s eating well at least some of the time. Some home-cooked meals to cancel out all those shitty MREs he’s consumed in his lifetime.

✧.*Bet he will reward you for it too; he’s got a soft spot for good girls. He is tired of yelling commands and barking out orders, he’s too worn out to deal with a brat. Be a sweet little thing now and show him some love. Offer to climb into his lap and take over when his bad leg starts acting up, see where it gets you.

✧.*Rolling your hips to a steady rhythm only you hear, he lets you have your fun until he’s ready to set the pace. Big hands pawing at your waist, clutching at you just tight enough his fingers are going to leave red marks for him to soothe away after. He doesn’t even have to roll his hips up against you, he can just move you as he pleases with his strength.

✧.*You don’t even have to try to give him a show—he drinks in every little reaction you give him. His heart skips a beat when you mewl, your eyes threatening to roll back in sheer bliss. The sticky sound of your thighs, drenched in arousal, meeting his skin. The way your lips meet his neck and shoulders, kissing and nipping love bites against his body. The mattress springs squeaking from underneath you two. It’s a performance, and he’s dedicated to appreciating every moment.

✧.*He’ll send you melting with his words, too—

“Mmm, is that good, little luv’?”

“You like that, baby? My darlin’?”

“Such a good girl—doing so well f’me.”

“F-fuck lovie, do that thing with your hips again~”

✧.* Aftercare is top-tier with him too, no questions asked. He may have gotten a little lazy in his retirement, but never when it comes to you. Water, a snack, a quick clean up. Him putting his entire weight over you like a human weighted blanket. Whatever you need, Lovie.

﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣

Wrote this quickly after doing an online job interview, I don’t think it went very well bc I have awful RBF but wish me luck :,)

Should I do a full fledged fic about this? Anyone interested? Okay, bye <3

[zepskies]

Lost on You - Part 1

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: Welcome to Part 1! You guys have really warmed by heart with all the anticipation for this series, so thank you so much. I think it's going to be a fun ride. 😉

Song Inspo: “Magic” by Olivia Newton-John. And check out the full “Lost on You Playlist” here. There’s going to be lots of ‘80s music in this series!

Word Count: 4K

Tags/Warnings: SB being an entitled asshole (strap in for a lot of that), misogyny, bullying, and a “meet cute” of sorts…

🎙️ Series Masterlist || YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

Part 1: Siren Song

April 3, 1983

“Why the fuck wasn’t I consulted about this?” Soldier Boy groused.

Arthur Cohen, otherwise known as “The Legend,” released a heavy puff of his cigar within the relative privacy of his office. Vought afforded him a great deal of luxuries, at the cost of days like this.

So, he’d offered the supe one of his most coveted Cubans to pacify him. Because true to form, he was edging closer to a temper tantrum by the minute.

“This decision came from on high, my friend,” Arthur said, with a smile that hid his inner anxiousness. He tapped some ash off his cigar with a finger adorned by a gaudy gold ring. “Stan Edgar, Stillwell, even the entire board of directors signed off on this one.”

“I don’t give a fuck who bought into this PR bullshit,” Soldier Boy postured, crossing his arms across his dark green supe suit as he leaned into the plush seat adjacent to Arthur’s desk. He raised a solid boot on the edge of the newly polished mahogany, and then another, crossing them at the ankles. His cigar was balanced between his teeth in the corner of his mouth.

“The last thing we need,” he said, pausing to inhale. Then he took the cigar from his lips to blow out smoke in hot annoyance. “Is another broad on the team.”

Arthur inclined his head. “I understand your concerns.”

“Do you?” Soldier Boy snorted. “Countess is bitch enough to deal with, believe you me.”

Arthur sympathized. He knew Crimson Countess’s attitude well, but he supposed Soldier Boy had license to say so more than anyone else, considering she was his girlfriend.  

“Look, I could give you the numbers: expected profit margins, demographics, etcetera, but you don’t get paid to hear that from me,” Arthur said, with a magnanimous hand gesture and a fair bit of old Jewish charm. “I’m askin’ you to trust me. This girl’s good, okay? Not just a wig and a pair a’ tits. Nah, she’s got talent. Got a set of pipes on her too, my God.”

Soldier Boy gave him a sly look. 

“Not like that,” Arthur said. He shook his head in amusement, but not with the face of a man who hadn’t already thought about the girl’s pretty mouth. He stroked his chin.

“She’s…interesting. Well, you’ll see. If she brings up the ratings the way we hope, we’ll be able to relocate Swatto. Hopefully to Siberia. He’s a fucking PR nightmare waiting to happen.”

“All right, the guy’s a moron, but he’s fucking hilarious,” Soldier Boy said, smirking. “Like one of the three Stooges.”

Yeah. Arthur wondered if that homeless man Swatto almost split open in Central Park after a sneeze thought he was funny. 

“And her powers. Really?” Soldier Boy went on. His brows drew together then, as he frowned. “Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”

“Trust me, that’s the real deal too,” Arthur assured.

But he could see that Soldier Boy wasn’t convinced. The supe rolled his eyes and released another puff.

“Anyway. I’m fucking bored. What’s the next project?” he said. Arthur took an unfiltered breath and peeked at the files strewn across his desk.

“Well, Red Thunder is coming out this fall. We’re pretty sure it’s gonna be the blockbuster of the year,” he replied. “After that, we’ll see about writing a sequel.”

If it makes back the millions we spent in production going over budget, thanks to this asshole’s weekly benders, he mentally added.

“I don’t care about a bullshit sequel,” Soldier Boy said dismissively. “I want to do something new.”

“Something new,” Arthur intoned.

The supe raised a brow. Again, the cigar was balanced between his teeth.

“Yeah.”

He really must be bored, Arthur thought, if he actually wants to work.

“All right, let me brainstorm on that for ya,” Arthur said. “Matter of fact, tell you what. Give me ‘til the end of the week. In the meantime, we’ve got the security team monitoring the police scanner for potential saves.”

The supe didn’t look impressed. His brows furrowed, as if he was irritated that he didn’t get an immediate answer, but his slight nod signaled his agreement before he finally got up from his chair. His boots dragged off Arthur’s desk, knocking over a framed picture of his kids with it, and thudded heavily on the ground. He left the office thereafter.

Arthur heaved a breath of exasperation. He didn’t get paid enough for this shit. 

Fucking supes.

But he didn’t dare utter that thought out loud.

It was days before Ben finally crossed paths with the new girl. Not that he’d been giving the idea much thought.

After that day in Arthur’s office, Ben became engrossed in his own devices—namely one of the assistants, Joanna, his stylist, Angela, and Rachel, his maid, after Donna blew him off for dinner for the third night in a row. This time for some tree-hugging conservationist gala of some kind. 

Frigid bitch, he thought, shaking his head. 

On his way to the gym, he passed the T&T Twins gossiping. Just the sight of them irritated him. Tommy was a kiss-ass, and Tessa shared a brain cell with her brother, so she wasn’t saying much for her gender either. 

“Would you pick your tongue off the floor already! You’re so disgusting,” Tessa said, shoving her brother.

“What? She’s fucking hot,” Tommy snapped in defense. When they finally saw Ben coming, Tessa piped down with her attempt at a “demure” greeting.

Tommy came in hot with a too bright voice and a, “Hey, boss!”

Ben gave them a stoic nod, fully intending to blow past them.

“Have you met the new girl yet?” Tommy asked, with an unmistakable pop of his brows and indecent smile.

Ben nearly rolled his eyes. “No.”

And don’t fucking care, his tone conveyed. He continued on his way to the gym. Behind him, the twins gave each other a look, and a shrug.

When he got to the gym, Journey was playing overhead. Ben frowned as he saw Black Noir working out by himself. The young man wasn’t wearing his suit. Instead, he was bare-chested and running on a treadmill with a nearly 90-degree incline, sweat glistening on his skin. 

Fucking show off, Ben thought. 

Then there was Gunpowder, his young sidekick, practicing his archery. Ben went to him and slapped a hand on his back in greeting, none too gently. The teen stumbled, his arrow landing into the wall instead of the target. 

“Spot me at the bench, ey kid,” said Ben. “And grab me a towel while you’re at it.”

“Uh, sure,” Gunpowder replied, ducking his head as he went. Ben got settled at his usual bench press machine, sliding his back down the thin leather cushion. He waited for the kid to add on his fifty-pound weights on either side, until it reached two hundred pounds. That was just the warm-up. 

“You met the new girl yet?” Ben asked, after he began lifting his first rep. Gunpowder stood behind his head.  

“No, sir,” he said. “Haven’t seen her yet.”

“I haven’t either,” said Noir. He’d come over on his way to the showers, regaining his breath all the while. Ben gave him a sharp side-eye.

“Did I fucking ask you?” he said. 

Noir paused. He hid his frown behind a stoic front, since he didn’t have his mask to do it for him. He toweled off his face and chest as he left the gym. 

Ben shook his head, but he never broke stride on the bench press. 

You seemed to be mysterious. 

Barely anyone had seen you, and you hadn’t gone out of your way to ingratiate yourself with every member of the team, like Ben would’ve expected. Donna had set him in her sights on her very first day.

With fake demure in her hazel eyes, a flick of her long red hair over her shoulder, and a sultry smile, she’d let him take her hand and bring it up to his lips for a gentlemanly kiss. 

That same night, she’d accepted his invitation up to his suite and let him do some very ungentlemanly things. Ben smirked at the memory as he made his way down Vought Tower’s infinite hallways. She sure knew her way around some kinky shit.  

And she still did, the little minx. She’d just been putting the freeze on his balls lately, for whatever her reasons were this time. He didn’t pretend to care or keep track at this point. 

If people only knew what a royal pain Crimson Countess was.

Ben was only taken out of his thoughts when he heard someone singing in the breakroom, gently, but beautifully. He couldn’t make out the words though. He stopped and leaned inside the doorway, just to see who it was. It was early enough in the morning that he was surprised anyone but him was awake.

You were standing there at the counter, making some coffee from the percolator. Soft and dulcet notes fell from your lips in some kind of lullaby. Quirking a brow, the oddness of it managed to draw Ben’s steps into the kitchen. You were wearing a leather supe suit that molded to your every curve, not unlike Donna’s, except yours was black with violet trim lines.

You eventually noticed him with a smile.

“Good morning, sir.”

Ben gave you a charming grin, blatantly eying you from breast to toe before he noted that the coffee had finished percolating. 

"Hey there, sweetheart,” he said. “Pour me a cup, would ya?" 

You did so, and he admired the graceful movements of your hands, and the sweet sound of your voice as you continue to hum to yourself. 

"You're a little crooner, aren't you?" he asked, taking the plain white coffee mug from you. 

When your hand brushed his, he felt it.

Your power.

It threatened to overtake him, drawing you into him like the crash and current of a tidal wave, where he couldn’t help but be pulled undertow. There in that darkness, he craved your warmth as well as your body. The thought, the need gripped him at his core… 

He wanted you to devour him, body and soul.

And he finally registered that your eyes were glowing violet, along with your knowing smile. 

Then you blinked. The violet haze was gone, along with your hold on his mind. 

You went back to sipping your coffee as if nothing had just happened. Ben faltered, mentally and physically as he was forced to grip the counter. He even had to catch his breath as his mind reeled from the loss of connection. 

He covered his unbalance with a steely, angry frown. What the fuck just fucking happened?

He looked at you harder than before, drawing himself to his full height and towering over you. Still, you didn’t seem all that intimidated.

“What the hell did you just do?” he growled.

Your knowing, easy smile remained. 

“Nothing,” you replied. “Just a little smoke.”

Ben’s eyes widened.

“Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”

How the hell had you heard about that?

He quirked a brow, but you just sipped your coffee with a gentle slurp. Your gaze moved away from him as you went to the fridge to take out a carton of eggs.

“Want some breakfast? I’m thinking of making some eggs, sunny side up,” you said.

Ben’s hand clenched at his side, but then, he forced himself to relax. Or at least, to look relaxed. You had some fucking audacity to try toying with him…but he had to admit, you were something new.

Interesting.

“What’s your name?” he asked, in a tone that demanded.

“Sirena,” you answered. Your superhero name, which he’d already known when Stan Edgar told him about you a week ago.

Ben’s frown deepened, but he reminded himself to retain some charm. He took your chin between his fingers. His grip was light, but his green eyes were intense, and focused on you. 

“No. Your real name, sweetheart,” he said, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

You blinked, but you obliged him with your name, and a smile that edged at flirtation.

“What’s yours?” you returned.

He had to smirk. He knew you knew full well who he was.

“Call me Ben,” he said.

Three Days Ago…

You tried not to be completely overwhelmed by the sight of this huge tower as you pulled your suitcase behind you. Vought-American was an institution of superhero production, and Payback was the face of it all. The absolute pinnacle.

I still can’t believe they chose me, you thought, but you tried not to let that show. You needed to make it seem like you knew what you were doing. You belonged here, and you were seizing this chance.

Madelyn Stillwell, the head of Superhero Public Relations, personally greeted you at the gate and showed you up to your room. However, you’d barely gotten a chance to step inside and look around before her pager went off. She wore a certain smile when she saw the number on the screen. She tossed a strand of strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder and glanced up at you.

“Sorry, sweetie. I have an appointment to get to, but the directory is there on your desk if you need anything. Feel free to get comfortable,” she said, gesturing at you with her pager in hand. “I’ll be back in an hour or so to give you a tour of the building.”

“Okay, thank you so—”

The door closed behind her before you could even finish your sentence. That deflated you a little, but you tried not to let that small exchange bring you down. Your apartment was huge. Or at least, it was much bigger than the shoebox you left in the Village, let alone the Brooklyn brownstone you grew up in, sharing with two other families on each floor.

You hefted your suitcase onto the bed and began to unpack your clothes, makeup, and toiletries. 

You also took out the only framed picture you had—one that housed your parents and your older brother Chris. You were both grown already, but in this picture, you were barely twelve years old. That little girl didn’t know that her entire world was about to change, when her powers manifested for the first time. 

That thought did succeed in dimming your mood for a moment, but you sighed and set the frame down on your new dresser. You’d have to remember to call Chris. His son was turning four years old in a few weeks. 

Though your attention shifted to a black shape in the corner of your eye. It was a garment bag hanging on the closet door. You went over and unzipped it, revealing your new super suit. It was all black leather and violet accent lines down the sides, along the collar, and down between the breasts in a V-shape. It was strategic to accentuate curves and bust. 

You whistled lowly. It was beautiful, but Jesus did it look tight. 

“Wow,” you remarked, trying out the zipper up and down. “They really like their leather, huh?”

Still, you itched to try it on. After a few minutes of struggling and wiggling, you managed to get into the suit. They’d taken exact measurements, so it did look good. You felt like a new person…a superhero.

You smiled at yourself in the bathroom mirror. But then, you forced the smile off your face and shook your head, schooling your expression into something less doe-eyed and pathetic. More in control.

There you are, Sirena, you thought. You had long ago trained yourself with that enigmatic look. You knew how it felt on your face. The easiest way for you to get what you wanted in this world, the way you’d gotten this far, was with this exact face.

Only show them what you want them to see.   

Almost two hours later, you’d finished unpacking your belongings and explored every corner of your new beautiful apartment, but still, Miss Stillwell wasn’t back yet.

You checked your watch and hummed to yourself. Your curiosity getting the best of you, you decided to leave your apartment and explore the tower by yourself. You took off the suit as well, so you could make your way around more anonymously. You were sure no one really knew who you were yet. 

Your theory was proven true when you walked through the halls, passing Vought employees without even a blink in your direction. That was okay though. Soon enough, all these people would know your face, as well as your name. 

You reached one of the top floors, where you thought you remembered The Legend’s office was supposed to be (according to the directory). Maybe you could meet him and get a jump start on your schedule.

You stopped short, however, when an office door slid open. Out came a slightly disheveled Miss Stillwell. Her blouse was hastily tucked into her gray pencil skirt, and strands of her blonde hair were a bit frizzy as they brushed her shoulders, as if she’d combed them down with her fingers. You plastered yourself to a wall around the corner, only peeking around after she passed by.

Your brows popped up incredulously when you read the name plate beside the door she just came out of.

Stan Edgar…holy shit. His signature was on my contract!

Along with Arthur Cohen, or The Legend, as Stillwell had told you when she welcomed you in. He was the Senior Vice President of Hero Management, so who the hell was Stan?

Well, whoever he was, he was giving it to the head of PR.

Okay then. You shook your head and continued on your way. At the end of the hall, you finally found the right office. You were about to open the door, when you heard male voices coming from inside—one older and dry, and the other deep and strong.

You reached out with your awareness and allowed your powers to engage, likely making your eyes glow with a violet hue.

Sure enough, you sensed two men in the room. And as the voices raised, you recognized one of them. It was unmistakable; you’d been taking the time to binge all of his movies for the past month, ever since you auditioned to get into Payback.

Soldier Boy. 

A smile spread across your face. For a moment, you were incredibly excited…until you actually heard what he was saying.

“The last thing we need is another broad on the team.”

Your mouth fell open in shock as your brows drew together. You carefully pressed yourself to the door and kept listening.

“And her powers. Really?” he said. “Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”

“Trust me, that’s the real deal too,” Arthur assured.

You glared at the door furiously, as if you could burn lasers out of your eyes. You crossed your arms, but you breathed evenly as you strived to keep your emotions contained. 

Control, you reminded yourself. With another deep breath, you managed to let go of your ire, but the more you listened to the conversation, the more impossible that became. You turned away from the door and made clipped strides down the hall.

You knew you had to tread carefully here. You’d heard some of the real stories about Payback, because you’d taken the time to listen. You weren’t about to enter Vought Tower without having some idea of what you were getting into, and you knew you’d have to prove yourself as the rookie on the team. You just hadn’t expected their leader to be such a chauvinistic asshole. 

Though inwardly, you snorted. Well, the guy is from the ‘40s. Best generation, indeed.

You rolled your shoulders and shook it away, like water off your proverbial feathers. Your mouth set in a firm line as you held your head high.

The game begins, you thought.

For the next few days, you watched. You studied each member of your new “team” as you encountered them, and you quickly realized that this team wasn’t much of one. 

They looked out for themselves, and bickered amongst themselves, in the case of the TNT Twins. Crimson Countess had given you a lovely, polite face that still somehow mocked you when she walked away, along with the bounce of her red hair. 

Your powers didn’t allow you to sense or read women, but you recognized a diva when you saw one.

Clearly, she was used to being the woman on top, especially as Soldier Boy’s girlfriend. You wanted to roll your eyes at the thought. From what you’d heard (and the masculine cologne you smelled on Arthur’s assistant Joanna yesterday), Soldier Boy got around. His relationship with Countess was either very open, or it was well-crafted PR.

You had another growing, unsettling thought. The more information you gathered just by observing the team, the more you had a hard time believing that you were ever going to fit in around here. 

It was only your third day in the Tower though, you reminded yourself, as you got dressed for the day in your suit. That kind of negativity wouldn’t serve you here. 

So you left your apartment in search of coffee and breakfast at the breakroom and lounge area, exclusive to the team. You supposed these guys were either late sleepers, or they got their food brought to them. You were relieved to find the room empty, and you let out a deep breath.

Remember why you’re here, you thought. It’s not about you. 

It had never been about you. 

You rummaged through the cupboards in search of the one thing that would perk you up—good coffee. You found it near the top shelf and began to prep the coffee maker. You hummed to yourself while your hands moved on autopilot. The tune strengthened, deepening and then sweetening on higher trills. 

Suddenly, your spine prickled. Your mind buzzed faintly with awareness as you sensed a presence.

It was familiar and overwhelmingly male, with heavy, confident steps coming down the hall. You tilted your head and frowned. 

Soldier Boy, that asshole. 

But then, your lips curved upwards. This could be fun. 

When Soldier Boy walked into the breakroom, he noticed you. You pretended not to realize he was there, but you felt the heat of his gaze roaming over your body. You wanted to sigh. Predictable.

Right then, you made a quiet, firm decision. Today, this man was going to learn your name. And he wasn’t going to forget it. 

You turned to him with a smile when he approached—the most pleasant one you could manage.

“Good morning, sir.”

AN: Game, set, match. 😘💚 As many of you know, this story is expanding on this Soldier Boy imagine, which I wrote almost a year ago now. In the back of my mind though, I always thought this idea could be more someday.

So please let me know what you thought of Part 1! I'm so excited for you guys to see what's coming up next...

Next Time:

“Countess, I’m not trying to replace you. I’m not trying to take anything from you.”

“Except my boyfriend,” she shot back. Finally she turned her head towards you with cool disdain. “You think I didn’t see you flirting with him last night at the afterparty?”   

You rolled your eyes, though you hid a sliver of embarrassment. You should’ve known she’d spot that.

“He approached me, okay?” you said. Maybe you were about to let your pettiness to get the best of you, but you couldn’t help it. You smiled slyly. “And from what I hear, I’m the least of your worries. Looks like Ben has quite the appetite.”

The cracks of Countess’s cool façade finally broke through to anger.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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[littlemissmiller]

Passanger Princess

Pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

Summary: (au) you love joel. he’s your everything and on a drive home you can’t seem to keep your hands to yourself so, you make him pull over…

Warning: 18+, smut, established relationship, p in v, semi-public sex, car sex, slight dirty talk

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: hello! had this one written for a while and wanted to finish it and publish it before i get back to my coryo drug dealer series (read here). just a cute quick little smutty read for my Pedro lovers ❣︎ i want to get more perdo fics, but i need more ideas so send me requests! have a lovely day beauties and enjoy ❤︎︎

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ ⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ ⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ ⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

You love drives with Joel. Especially in his truck, a 2009 Chevy Silverado. One hand on the wheel while the other is usually grazing and groping at your thigh. In the summertime, you set your feet on the dash, roll the windows down, and take in the breeze while you casually ran your fingers through his soft brown locks. The cicadas buzz loudly, and the sun is setting perfectly on his face as the cornfields fly by in the background. The golden rays highlight his most handsome features, his large chiseled nose, and perfectly cut jawline. You sit up and he squeezes your thigh. You cup his face and he turns the smile at you.

“What’s up sugar?”

“Nothing, just can’t stop admiring my favorite cowboy”

“Hmm that’s funny because I ain’t seen no John Wayne around here baby” he chuckled

You smile and rub his cheek affectionately. You can’t help but get turned on to the mere sight of him. The way his beard shaped his face so cleanly, the way his shirts hugged his muscles. And about his arms. You loved the way they hugged you too. Strong and safe. You absolutely adore him, and he adores you.

You continue stroking his face, your tender fingers delicately moving across his skin. He’s so handsome. So incredibly handsome and you want him. Your hand moves down to his jaw, then down past his neck and you start rubbing, massaging him. You keep massaging him, occasionally moving your hand back up to his cheek so he can kiss your palm.

“Why would I want John Wayne when I got Joel Miller right here?”

“You flatter me darling.”

“It’s true!” You insist

He glances at you, kissing your palm again. You feel a small heat in between you begin to grow, you run your thighs together, and your clit begins to throb. You bite your lip, giggling to yourself and massage his neck a bit more aggressively.

“What ya need babe?”

“You” you giggle, biting your lip

A devilish smile spreads across his face and he glances at you. He simultaneously squeezes your thigh.

“We’ll be home soon. In ten minutes”

You frown and he squeezes your thigh again. Too eager and impatient, you move your other hand over his leg, slowly trailing it to his crotch. You squeeze it and he turns to look at your actions.

“Pull over…” you bat your eyes.

With his mouth agape he sighs in disbelief and awe. Are you really gonna make him pull over? The expression on your face tells him just how serious you are. You squeeze his pants again and Joel places his hand on yours, encouraging you to rub him over his pants. He searches for a place to pull over with some cover, but the long gravel road with crops on either side made it hard to find a good spot. Then, some trees come into view and a little path leads to an abandoned barn. Joel pulls over.

He drives onto the pathway until the car is more covered by the trees. He parks and immediately turns to you, hand roaming up your thigh more and under your skirt. Wasting no time, you climb over onto his lap and across the seat. You grind up on his crotch, his large, calloused hands splaying over the meat of your ass. He slides his hands under your panties, feeling how soft your flesh is. You smash your lips onto his, holding his face and he moves your hips against his lap. He moves his mouth with you fiercely, the kiss burning your lips.

It was safe to say you absolutely love this man. Everything about him, which you don’t feel like you could express through a mere kiss. You push your tongue past his lips and down this throat. He lets you in, swirling it with your own. You can’t get enough of him and his sweet lips aren’t the only thing you desire.

“Mmm someone was just too eager weren’t they.” He muffled against your mouth.

“Just shut up and kiss me Miller…” you muffle back, your words turning into a moan as his lips and tongue meet yours again.

You move with his mouth, fighting for dominance but also digging for more. You start unbuttoning his shirt, eagerly in need of wanting to touch his bare chest. You love to feel his muscles and how toned he is. He grins at you, thumbs hooking around your hips.

“I mean we could take this home if you really wanted.” You giggle, slightly out of breath

“Might as well finish what we started.” He smiles, squeezing your cheeks firmly.

You giggle again which turns into a soft moan as he sucks on your neck. You tangle your fingers in his hair, pushing his mouth against you more. He pulls back for a moment to take off his shirt fully, undoing the rest of the buttons and you pull yours off as well. You quickly unhook your bra, letting it fall gently off your chest and shoulders. He takes in the sight of you, and you him. You flatten your palms on his chest, rubbing up and down. He cups your breasts, not too rough, but just enough to turn up the heat from your core. He massages them, playing with him slightly and admiring the way they bounce.

You lean in to kiss him again, hands cupping his neck and lips wasting no time to show him attention. You feel like you’re practically addicted to his lips, like they were made to be on yours. And making out with Joel got you so worked up. The rhythm of your lips and his hips move in sync, your moans spilling out of you. Joel sloppily moves his hips, unbuckling his pants and sliding them down along with his boxers. His cock sits stiffly on his tummy and he starts to stroke himself. He snakes a hand under your skirt and pulls your panties to the side. Giving his hand a quick lick, he places it on your core, making you ready for him. Joel loves playing with you like this, he loves feeling the little bundle of nerves in-between your legs and how he can manipulate it. You buck your hips, gasping and clutching onto his shoulder. You smile and moan and he speeds up, kissing him messily and moaning into his mouth.

Wasting no more time, you move your hips and place his cock at your slit. You sink down, watching his eyes fill with lust. He feels up your body, groping your chest again, massaging you and you grind down on his hips. You start to bounce on him, causing the truck to shake slightly and when your ass hits the steering wheel, honking the horn slightly, you both jump. You fall onto his chest and slip out of him, he grips your ass, laughing against your cheek, kissing you sloppily.

“You sure you don’t wanna just take this home baby? More room in my bed, or the shower…” he huffs

“Mmm we could or…” you start as he moves his lips to your neck “you could open the door and bend me over the seat.”

“Baby girl, that’s so fucking tempting…fuck…”

You smile, taking his length into your hand and pumping slowly.

“C’mon Joel. Don’t you wanna see my pretty little ass sticking out the side of your truck.” You speed up your hand. “Hmm babe?”

He groans and starts to look past you and around at the area you are parked. Then he grips your hips, kissing you harshly and starts to move you off him. You shift back into your seat and Joel opens his door. You slide your panties off and toss them in the back seat. You open your passenger door, sliding your skirt above your ass. You slide onto your stomach on the seat, feet barely touching the ground. Joel comes up from behind, admiring the view you had described to him in the car.

“Fuck…” he whispers

He splays his hand out on your cheek, taking his length and rubbing it along your folds. You moan as he teases you. Then, he slides in, his pace tempered at first. He grabs your waist, pushing in over and over again, his hips meeting the flesh on your ass. He loves the way you bounce on him like this. His mouth falls open, his own moans mixed with small curses under his breath.

“Fuck Miller you feel so good. Harder…please I want more.” You whine

He ruts into you, picking up his pace. The grip on your waist tightens. You hold on the seat more tightly as well bouncing forward and back with the rocking of the truck. Just as you’re about to cum, he spins you over, pulling out. Joel picks your leg up, pushing your body up against the seat. He quickly pushes back into you, cupping your face so he can fully watch your expression. He loves how needy you look, your eyes wide and full of bliss. He captures your agape mouth, swirling his tongue with your own. You are practically clinging to him, totally trapped between his broad chest and the truck.

He pumps into you a few more times and you feel your high coming back. Your stomach clenches and you pant his name.

“Cum for me baby…” Joel whispers

You fall apart, arching your back, he holds you close to him. With a few more pumps from his cock he pulls out spilling his load onto the ground. You catch your breath, resting your forehead against his. He keeps holding onto your face, placing soft, small kisses to your lips. He stuffs his cock back into his jeans and you slide back into your passenger seat. Joel walks around to the drivers side, finding his shirt, putting it back on and starting the car. He shuts his door and backs out while you put your own shirt back on. He slings his arm around your seat and looks behind him, turning his body.

“So what were you saying about your bed and a shower?”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

[bruciemilf]

Need a no capes! AU where Clark is Just A Guy trying to help his folks keep their farm going. It’s not easy under the Luthors.

Having to sell their property rights because their farm is on a purchased land wasn’t an easy choice. But if Clark knows something, is that Kents don’t go down easy.

Once Thomas Wayne buys it from Luthor Senior, — Clark doesn’t know the specifics; He just heard the words “old college teammate” and “lost bet” and “fuck you, John” and put it together.

So, Thomas Wayne buys their farm. They have peace, for a while.

Except one day the man himself knocks on Clark’s apartment, switchblade smile bright and fraudulent. Clark quickly learns Thomas Wayne can either be your best friend, or your biggest fear.

“It’s really nothin’ personal,” Thomas shrugs. Maybe, to him, it’s a good apology. “Luthor just found out some…Nasty lies about me. And it’d really affect the cancer research fundraiser if they got out. “

People don’t fear lies, Clark thinks.

“So, your daddy ain’t answering me, and your mom threw a bottle at me when I went over there, so I figured you’re my last resort. I can’t buy if they ain’t sellin’, son.”

“We don’t appreciate being bought, Mr. Wayne.”

“Right, but the other alternative would be kicking ya’ll out on the street, and it’d make me feel like a real asshole,”

You already are, Clark wants to say, but decides it wouldn’t be a good idea.

“ So we have two options: Either you sell me the farm and everyone’s happy; Or you get the best bed at Gotham’s homeless shelter. I’m sorry, Clark. Really.”

He swallows an angry gulp. World’s strongest man and he can’t help but feel such sorrowful helplessness. “And what’s option 3?”

Thomas knows that’s a challenge, and knows Clark has a right to it. Something just clicks in the man’s eyes, thought. Clark isn’t sure he likes it. “Option number three…I deal with this my way. But you gotta do something for me.”

And that’s how Clark ends up babysitting infamously anonymous Bruce Wayne.

No paper touches him; He successfully evaded and escaped any journalist that ever approached, hunted, or tracked him down.

The man is awfully quiet, lilly pale skin glowing pink in Kansas sun. Clark studies the wide, impressive curve of his shoulders, surprisingly thick and strong for such a pretty thing.

The way his eyes are alert and focused and the color of watercolor rain. Mostly, he’s crushed by Bruce’s timidity. God, he’s so beautiful.

“Imma need a week and Brucie’s outta your hands faster than a devil in a church,” Thomas jokes, affectionately ruffling chestnut hair. Clark can see the resemblance, but not the relation. “You be good for Clark, ya hear?”

Bruce doesn’t give a verbal or physical answer. He seems awfully angry about something. He picks up his bags, storms past Clark and stomps off upstairs. He has a feeling this week will be hell for all of them.

“Well, you have fun! And Clark?” Thomas’ voice lowers, “You take care of my boy, now.”

“Oh, I will.”

It’s not a lie.

He’ll take care of Bruce so good he won’t ever want to leave.

[stargirlinterludefr]

YES TO HEAVEN: jj maybank x reader

Synopsis: Three times JJ is told you love him (+1 time he finally says it back.)

TW: mentions of physical, emotional and verbal abuse, mentions of drug usage (weed), alcohol consumption, mention of Luke Maybank, mention of child abuse, angst to fluff, use of y/n

If there is one thing everyone in the Outer Banks knows about JJ Maybank? It’s his ferocious loyalty. He’s probably the most loyal man to walk the planet. The boy would walk into a fire blind to save the people he loves even if he only had a 0.99% chance of doing so, he’d rather take that chance over anything else.

But, there was one thing you knew about JJ Maybank and that was the fact he was terrified of love. The irony right? A boy so full of love that he’s nearly bursting at the seams, petrified that he isn’t worthy of the very thing.

And yet…you love him as though it’s as easy as breathing.

A fact that he can’t seem to except, no matter how hard he tries.

-

1st Time: SHARING A JOINT

The first time you tell JJ you love him, and not in the friendly way, is when you are both high as kites.

And that’s exactly what JJ pins it down to, the fact that you’re only saying you love him because you’re high. There couldn’t possibly any other reason you love someone like him, right?

“It’s crazy as shit to think that the stars…they’re just like a bunch of dead suns but they’re still vibin’ it up in the sky man.” JJ rambles, intoxicated brain running at a slower pace than usual but still managing keeping up with his everyday hyperactive sober brain.

You stare lovingly, not at the dead suns, but at JJ. Despite how much you’d smoked, your eyes held so much adoration that the Maybank boy could feel it burning into the side of the face and he didn’t dare turn you’re way because he’s sure he’d up and bolt at the sight of such love.

“I wish I could be a star, just chillin’ light years after my death and being some beautiful light in the sky it’s so-“

“I love you.” You blurt out, mind not catching up to the words that had slipped past your lips and perhaps not even realising you’d said them out loud until JJ’s head snapped in your direction at the speed of light.

The look on his face nearly made you cry, the look of utter terror that flashed on his features would be enough to make anyone cry because how could anyone hurt this boy? A boy so special, kind and loving.

A boy who currently looked at you like you had three heads.

“W-What?” JJ splutters, he’d planned to play it off jokingly, as though you were saying it in a friendly way. But he wasn’t stupid, sure he’s had a lot of cuncussion due to all the blows to the head he’s taken, but he wasn’t stupid. Nor was he blind.

He knew the way you looked at him and he knew he looked at you that way too.

You cheeks flush slightly, JJ also tries to downplay that as you being high outta your mind, “I just…I love you, Jay.” You whisper, so earnestly and full of meaning that JJ laughs.

He actually laughs.

You feel sick.

“Nah, you don’t love me man.” He throws out, mind sobering up so quickly that it almost gives him whiplash with the speed it happens. He sits up and shuffles away from you slightly, the feeling of rejection burns deeply in your gut.

You don’t feel so high anymore.

“But I do, love you I mean.” You state, beginning to anxiously pick at your nails as JJ scoffs, tongue rolling on the inside of his cheek as he pulls himself to his feet.

It’s almost embarrassing how quick you are to follow.

“Why’d you-“ He starts, throwing his hands up before slapping them back to his thighs, his glare cutting you in half like a sharp knife. “You- you’re high, y/n, you prolly’ ain’t gonna remember this in the morning.”

You try to speak, but your mouth is hoarse and you wonder if you even have the strength to open it.

“Let’s just forget about this, yeah?” He sighs out and you nearly cry at how you nod, forcing a smile for his benefit.

2nd Time: JOHN B

JJ is sat in the hammock at the Château, blue eyes intently watching as you, Kiara and Sarah giggle like three little girls as you share stories animatedly between one another.

The boy doesn’t even realises he’s smiling at the sight until John B speaks from beside him, “What’s got you looking so happy, and if you dare say you’ve jacked off in my hammock I swear to god…I’ll kill you.” JB warns jokingly, bringing himself to sit across from the blonde haired boy as JJ’s cheeks basically flush.

“Nah man, you know I wouldn’t do that shit infront of impressionable ladies.” He mocks, eyes darting to you and back to John B who looks at JJ as though he’s got him all figured out.

“What’re you doin’ anyway? Thought you, Pope n Cleo were off gettin’ some beers?” He then quizzes, trying to play it off, he can essentially feel John B’s interrogation looming.

The Routledge boy shrugs, “We were, we got back like ten minutes ago, you not hear us call out?”

Busted. He’s so fucking busted.

JJ clears his throat as he leans back on his arms, “Was probably nappin’ the sun has been killin’ me off, bro.”

“Uh huh, you sure it’s the sun that’s been making you all…distracted?” John B quizzes, eyebrow raised as he stares intently at his best friend who refuses to look him in the eye. Completely out of character for JJ’s golden retriever like nature, he never avoided eyes with anyone unless he was afraid.

JJ clenched his jaw, his eyes unknowingly travelling to you once more and this time, John B follows his line of sight and his mind clicks into place.

“Ah.” He him making JJ’s head snap toward him as the Maybank boy narrows his eyes toward his best friend.

“What? What does ‘ah’ mean?” JJ interrogates quickly, nudging JB with his knee so the boy would answer him instead of wearing a very annoying smirk on his sun kissed face.

“Ah means that you have feelings for y/n.” John B states bluntly, deciding to not beat around the bush because he knew better than anyone that beating around the bush is exactly the thing that has prevented you and JJ from confronting your feelings for this long.

JJ shifts uncomfortably and shakes his head, “The fuck? Only feelings I have for y/n are like the same ones I have for like…Kiara and Cleo, hell even you man.” JJ quickly defends and from the corner of his eye, he tries not to watch as you laugh so beautifully at something Sarah said.

Your laugh was like JJ’s own personal drug, if he could bottle the sound and get drunk to it every night he would.

John B laughs dryly before saying, “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Jay, she obviously likes or even loves you back so why not just…you know?” He says, imitating kissing motions with his hands as JJ’s face scrunches up.

“First of all, that makes you look like your a puppet bein’ controlled or some shit,” JJ begins, sitting up slightly in the hammock “And secondly, she obviously doesn’t like me and I don’t like her, we’re just friends.” He stresses, shrugging despite the desperate look in his eyes that always tells John B the truth of it.

And to prove himself wrong, both you and JJ turn your heads at the same time, catching each other’s gaze for a few moments. You always felt as though the world comes come to a halt when this happens, as though both you and him were the only ones in the world but then you feel Kiara nudge your shoulder and you remember JJ said he basically wouldn’t feel the same way about you, ever.

John B shook his head with a small laugh as he watches the interaction, standing up from the hammock as JJ’s eyes dart from yours and up to John B who gives him a quick pat to the shoulder.

“I don’t know what you tell yourself, bro, but…friends don’t look at each other like that.”

3rd time: AFTER A FIGHT WITH LUKE.

The third time that JJ is told you love him probably goes down in the worst way possible.

JJ had just had a huge argument with his father, the reason for which he couldn’t even remember now, all he knows is Luke had punched him square in the jaw and followed it with a kick to the ribs for good measure.

So, JJ was bottled to the brim with anger. And to make matters worse? You were looking at him with so much love that it made him feel sick, he didn’t deserve that love. He didn’t deserve you.

He was currently sat on the dock of the Château, face tensed and twisted with anger as he stared out at the water and you sat beside him…face twisted with anguish at the fact this had happened to the boy you loved.

JJ couldn’t look at you, again. But not because he didn’t want to but because he knew that if he did, he’d likely flip the top off the bottle that was holding everything inside of him and the thought of doing so absolutely terrified him.

“Do you want me to get some ice for your cheek? It’d probably help with the swelling.” You ask softly, eyes trailing down the side of the boys face as he doesn’t respond.

JJ really wanted you to be quiet but your love and care was overflowing and his was overcome by a blinding anger that he was struggling hard to contain, the anger that was hanging loosely by a thread which he sensed was about to be snapped at any moment.

“Or maybe a beer? Or I could roll a joint? It might be good if you-“

“God, would you just shut the fuck up!”

Snap.

Your face subtly drops but you’re quick to pick it back up, you know you have no right to be upset, he’s just angry at his dad. He’s not angry at you, right?

“All you ever fuckin’ do is yap down my ear, ‘oh do you want some ice JJ?’, ‘do you like this new shirt I got JJ?’, ‘I love you, JJ.” The boy mocks and you feel as though you’re being sliced open, your feelings laid bare like a wounded animal.

JJ scoffs out a dry humourless laugh as he raises to his feet, you are once again embarrassingly quick to follow. “I mean, it’s so fuckin’ tiring, you spout so much worthless shit down my ear like how am I supposed to get a clear thought when you’re clinging to me like I’m some sort of lost limb! It’s pathetic as shit, bro!”

His chest heaves in pure anger, anger you desperatley try to believe isn’t directed at you.

“This is just your anger talkin’, Jay, it’s not me you’re angry at its-“ JJ groans loudly enough to cut you off as his hands gesture to you wildly.

“And here you go again! Wafflin’ bullshit that I don’t give a fuck about, dictating to me how I should feel! Is that what you hoped? When you told me you loved me? That you’d get the same thing said back?” Your heart beat is sickeningly fast in your chest and you try to will your voice to come out as strong when you mutter;

“I mean, maybe? I-I never expected for you to say it back-“

“Damn y/n, I mean I know you’re smart but I never took you to be blind as shit! You and me? We ain’t gonna happen!” As JJ’s fuse burns out, his chest heaving and his words all but escaping him your heart shatters.

You both stand there, staring widely at one another.

Regret seeps into JJ’s eyes so quickly that you don’t have time to notice, your own eyes holding so much hurt that it cuts right through JJ’s anger and grasps harshly at his heart. Tugging roughly at the love he has for you, his blue eyes sweeping over your soul shattering expression.

JJ wants you to scream back, he wants you to hit him, he knows he deserves it. But you’re not his dad, and he’s unleashed his anger on you like you were.

You’d never lay a hand on him, the thought of doing so would likely make you keel over and vomit. You’re probably the most gentle person he’s ever come across and he’s just thrown whatever gentleness you’d extended to him, through your love for him, right back right into your face. Harshly.

And all you say in response?

Nothing at all.

You nod, tears now horrifically slipping down your face as you simply turn and walk away.

JJ’s ashamed to admit he doesn’t go after you, he remains frozen in place. Mind whirring at the fact that for a second, he’d acted exactly like his father.

+1: JJ SAYS IT BACK.

You never claimed to be an expert on love, you actually found it incredibly hard to believe in. Growing up and not seeing your parents love one another is a harsh reminder that you don’t actually know what love is supposed to be.

Or, maybe you do.

It’s the love you hold so dearly for your friends, the small things you love like the music you listen to and the mismatched socks you wear.

Love is how you’d define what you held in your heart for JJ, despite all the cruel words he’d hauled your way.

There is one thing your parents taught you about love…the fact that it hurts.

You’d never seen your parents actively be happy together, but when you looked upon old photos and gazed at your older siblings you knew they must’ve loved each other once upon a time. You and your siblings were a product of that love, the proof that danced in front of their faces to ensure they don’t forget. Proof of a love that burned out.

You don’t think your love for JJ will ever burn out and that’s what hurts you the most. You can’t even bring yourself to be angry at him for what he said, because he was right.

Why did you expect him to feel the same way? Why did you even hold out hope?

You hadn’t seen the Maybank boy since your fight, Sarah had told you that he was searching high and low for you but you’d somehow managed to stay out of his path.

In other words? You were hiding on the beach where you first told JJ you loved him. In a very cliche movie kind of way, you knew he wouldn’t think to check this particular spot until the last minute.

And you didn’t intend on being here when he did figure it out, but, in the aftermath? You’re insanely glad you were.

You hear him approach, you don’t acknowledge him but JJ approaches anyway and he stands still just watching you for a few moments, clearly undecided on what he could say to you.

JJ had come up with a million different speeches and scenarios of how this would play out but he didn’t expect to be tongue tied the minute he caught sight of you laying on the beach, simply gazing up at the stars.

So, he brings himself to lay beside you. He keeps a respectful distance but the fact you aren’t maiming him to death or screaming for him to leave gives him the slightest flicker of hope.

“You know, it’s uh crazy as shit to think about the stars, they’re just a bunch of dead suns but they’re still vibin’ up in the sky.” JJ quotes and he swears he sees the corner of your lip twitch, you just won’t give him the satisfaction of a smile.

“I always liked the stars, in a sort of fucked up way, they remind me that i’m not alone. That there’s billions of people under the same exact sky livin’ and breathin’ at the same time as me.” He rambles, his head now turning to you so he can gaze upon you.

This time, you’re the one who can’t bring yourself to look back.

“What I’m tryna say is, the stars…they remind me of you.” At that, your eyes find his, JJ smiling softly as he catches your gaze.

“Stars are so beautiful, they can direct you on the places you need to go a-and they remind you that no matter what, they’ll always be there, so insanely gorgeous.” You sit up and JJ is proudly fast to follow you this time.

“Wh- why are you saying this, JJ?” You whisper, voice so gentle that JJ’s heart aches at the fact he said all those cruel things to you.

“I’m saying this because…I-I love you, and i’m sorry i’ve been such a fucking idiot and i’ve been hiding behind this stupid ass wall I put up but i just know that ever since I met you…no one else has been worth even thinkin’ about.” He rambles desperately, hands coming to clasp your own as you stare up at him.

You’re so beautiful that JJ has to physically restrain himself from simply smashing his lips onto yours before you can take the time to respond.

You stare at him with so much fear in your eyes that JJ imagines it’s exactly what he looked like when you told him you loved him that first time.

“B-but what if things get like complicated? What if we fight? I-I mean-“ You start but JJ is quick to cut you off.

“I don’t care how complicated this gets, baby, I want you.” He says so earnestly and full of meaning that it takes you all but two seconds to lean forward and kiss him.

JJ happily excepts your kiss, the two of you breathing a sigh of relief at the feeling.

And from the corner of his eye, JJ thinks he sees the stars shine a little bit brighter.

[sleepyjuice]

r u mine? — jj maybank

summary: you weren’t sure what to call you and jj. friends with benefits? a situationship? either way, the two of you certainly acted like more than friends.

word count: 4181

warnings: lowkey toxic!jj but we love him, jealousy, smut 18+!!!, unprotected p in v sex, squirting, creampie, some fluff

a/n: i am quite proud of this one so I really hope y’all like it! let me know what you think! <3

“Ugh, I hate that word.” You shook your head, taking a swig of your nearly lukewarm beer, grimacing at the skunked taste on your tongue.

“What else would you call it?” Sarah scoffed, raising her eyebrows inquisitively at you as she playfully shoved your knee.

“Hanging out, I don’t know…” you mumbled, your feet playing absently with the sand below you.

“Yeah, okay. It’s okay to call it what it is. A situationship.” Sarah grinned, nodding her head oh so matter of factly at you.

You and Sarah somehow ended up at a kook party. It just kind of happened. It had been awhile since the two of you had been to one, but seeing as the rest of your friends either had plans or were working, it was either this or another night at home, but the former somehow seemed only slightly more appealing.

You didn’t like labels, but if you had to pick one, you were a pogue. You were in a similar boat as Sarah and Kiara. Rich parents, but you hated nothing more than the snobby, ‘I’m so much better than you’ lifestyle the people on your side of the island lived by. By no means were you ungrateful for the life you were given. Your privilege was not ignored. But it was the country club luncheons and the uptight fakeness and the general attitudes of those you grew up around that you wanted no part of. So one day, you met Kiara, and the two of you clicked almost instantly, both of you finding solace in someone who shared the same views. Next up you met Sarah, and the three of you were inseparable. Your friendship was great until it wasn’t, and you and Kie found home in a group of boys from the cut while Sarah completely turned the other way.

But that was old news, history. Sarah came around, started macking on John b, and the three of you eventually made up. Shit happens.

So here you were, on your third beer, sitting on the beach next to Sarah, the full blown kook party going on only a few hundred feet behind you. The two of you tried to mingle, but that lasted for a total of about five minutes before you took advantage of several coolers stocked to the brim with beers, each of you grabbing a few cans before making your way down to the mostly empty beach in front of the Oceanside home holding the party.

You found comfort in the peace and tranquility of the ocean, the soft glow of the moonlight illuminating your senses could have very well brought you peace, if your phone wasn’t blowing up with messages every few minutes.

jj maybank: you really ain’t gonna text me back? got me over here double texting and shit??

jj maybank: knew you’d go back to full kook eventually. my lifestyle ain’t enough for you huh?

jj maybank: alright that was out of pocket I can’t lie my b

You and jj had gotten along since the second you met. Apparently Kiara had been hyping you up, because surprisingly, jj showed zero apprehension to letting another ‘kook’ join his circle. The attraction was also immediate, on both ends, but that took a bit longer to come out. Shared glances weren’t uncommon, neither were legs brushing against each other on the boat, even though there was more than enough room for the two of you to sit apart.

You and jj were friends for about a month before you hooked up the first time. It wasn’t anything crazy, you were both drunk and horny and one thing led to another. It was sloppy and pretty quick. But instead of it being a one and done deal, it kept happening, no alcohol involved.

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment where it went from purely sex to more, but it just happened. You and jj would spend time alone without the rest of your friends, cuddling on the couch at the chateau while everyone was out, or you calling jj late at night sobbing after a particularly nasty argument with your parents, which led to him climbing through your bedroom window and staying the night, sneaking out before you woke up the next day. Since that night, you would keep your bedroom window cracked ever so slightly, and most nights, like clockwork, jj would make the familiar climb up and through the window to be with you. Sometimes this led to sex, but other times it didn’t. That’s why it was weird.

You had both agreed that you weren’t in a relationship. jj for one didn’t want to commit, and you didn’t either. Several shitty relationships prior to meeting jj would taint your view on love. So it seemed like you were on the same page, but both of your actions proved otherwise.

This is why it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence that jj was currently blowing up your phone. For two people who are not in a relationship, you both had your fair share of jealousy issues. But you shouldn’t, because you’re not in a relationship.

“He’s freaking out right now,” you groaned, turning to Sarah with an exasperated sigh as your eyes glazed over the messages on your phone, “he’s mad that I’m not responding and that I’m here, but he knows it’s Kelce’s birthday party and so he assumes Jake is here since they’re best friends… but he’s acting like I’m gonna do something, like are you serious?” You vented, finishing off the last few drops of your beer.

Jake was your most recent ex. Total asshole. You cringed every time you thought about your time shared together, hating the fact that you ever gave him the time of day. He was overly preppy, but also overly possessive, yet he still cheated on you. Imagine that.

“He’s mad about Jake?!” Sarah gaped, leaning in closer to you as she glanced down at your phone, not missing the texts flooding through from jj.

“That’s what I’m saying… I hate him, and it’s not like I’m gonna cheat on him —“

“Ah, you can’t cheat on someone you’re not dating.” Sarah hummed, shaking her head at you.

“Ugh, you know what I mean. This situationship bullshit is so stupid. But either way, that’s a valid point. Not only do I want nothing to do with Jake, but even if I did, jj isn’t my boyfriend, so he shouldn’t even be mad,” you rambled, pausing for a moment before looking back down to your phone, “yeah, no, that’s a good point, that’s what I’m gonna say.” You mumbled as you began typing out a response to jj’s multitude of texts.

you: you say it’s about the kooks but seems to me like it’s one kook in particular you’re mad about

you: yeah, jake is here. I ain’t dumb jj, you’re transparent as fuck lmao

you: also I’m just trying to figure out why you’re mad bc you know I hate him but even if I wanted him, why would that be your problem? We’re not dating soooo??

you: have a good night at work! <3

You locked your phone, but not before putting it on do not disturb and shoving it in the back pocket of your denim shorts.

“Oh, well now he’s gonna lose his shit even more.” Sarah giggled, having watched you type out your messages.

“I don’t care, let him. He’s pissing me off.” You shrugged, rolling your eyes, but you couldn’t help but laugh along with Sarah. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but the thought of jj freaking out with jealousy over you made your stomach tingle. Just a little bit though…

An hour had passed since you had texted jj and you haven’t checked your phone once. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t the slightest bit curious to see his response, but your stubbornness was strong, outweighing your curiosity for the time being. The four beers in your system helped too, lightening up your overall mood and somewhat helping you forget about jj for a little while.

You were only a little tipsy at this point, but you and Sarah had mutually agreed to call it a night and start your trek home.

You both felt generally safe walking home. Streets were pretty well lit and it was figure 8, all the drunk creepy frat guys you had to worry about were down the street at the party.

“Hey, text me when you get home, okay? And keep me updated on jj whenever you check your phone. I’m honestly surprised he didn’t show up at Kelce’s after that exchange.” Sarah giggled as the two of you approached her house, giving her a quick hug goodbye and promising to update her. You only lived one street away from her, and she had plans with John b early the next morning so you decided to not sleepover this time.

You continued your journey home after seeing that Sarah had made it inside safely, sighing to yourself as the soft island breeze gently blew against your face, cooling down your slightly flushed cheeks.

You arrived home only five minutes later, tiptoeing through your dark home so as to not wake your sleeping parents, humming softly to yourself once you made your way upstairs and into your bedroom, pulling your shirt over your head and letting it fall onto the floor before fishing your phone out of your back pocket and tossing it onto the bed as you went to unbutton your shorts.

“Oh, so you do have a phone.”

You gasped, nearly screaming as you scrambled to flip your lights on, immediately spotting jj laid back on your bed, hands behind his head as he leaned seemingly comfortably against your headboard.

“jj what the fuck?!” You whisper yelled, wishing more than anything that your parents weren’t home so you could truly yell at him. You didn’t have to question how he got in, though. You had left your window cracked like you always did, as jj would have more than likely came over tonight anyways, but that was before you had started bickering over text. He had done this before, too, surprising you in your bedroom while you were at work or out with friends, coming home to the boy waiting for you in your bed.

“You put your shit on ‘do not text’ or whatever and I couldn’t get ahold of you. I was going to go straight to Kelce’s party, but I took a moment to consider the fact that that wouldn’t be a good idea, so I decided to wait for you here. Were you just gonna ignore me all night?” He sat up once you had acknowledged his presence, his hands playing with one of your pillows as he looked at you.

“First of all, it’s ’do not disturb’ and second, you were blowing up my shit and being annoying. Therefore, you were disturbing me.” You rolled your eyes, feeling jj’s eyes on you as you grabbed a sleep shirt from your closet and pulled it over your head before sitting on the edge of your bed as you worked to untie your shoes.

“Why do you do this to me?” jj whispered after a few moments of silence, scooting himself closer to where you were sat.

“What am I doing to you, jj?” You asked, not looking at him as you removed your first shoe, now untying the other.

“You — fuck. You make me fuckin’ crazy. I don’t like that I feel like this.” He muttered, and you could feel by the movements in the bed that he was anxiously adjusting and readjusting his hat, an anxious tick you had picked up quite early in your friendship with him.

“I make you crazy?” You questioned, your brows raising as you kicked off your other shoe and finally turned to look at the boy sat behind you on your bed.

“Yeah, and I hate it. Got me… got me checking my phone every two seconds to see if you texted me, fuckin’ — picturing you with that douchebag ex of yours… literally has my heart pounding. Like I can’t think about anything else.” He admitted, and you couldn’t miss the way his knee was shaking anxiously, his fingers playing absently with your blanket, yet he still kept his gaze on you.

“jj…” you breathed, your voice softening now. You felt for him. You knew it wasn’t easy for him to express his feelings, and you didn’t want to dismiss the way he was feeling just because you had argued. You would also be lying if you said you wouldn’t be jealous if he was around his ex all night… but you can blame that on your shitty past relationships, not because you didn’t want jj around girls he used to call his… definitely unrelated.

“Listen, I get what you’re saying, okay?” You sighed, slowly placing your hand on his bouncing knee. “But… we aren’t dating. We’re just friends who sleep together, you know?” You added quietly, hating the words that left your mouth, but it was the truth. There was no gentle way to say it.

“You’re right, you’re right. But let me just,” he reached for your hand over his knee, moving it to your side, “let’s just not talk about that right now, okay?” He licked his bottom lip, his hands now finding your thighs, rubbing the soft skin slowly, his fingertips inching their way up past the top of your shorts and underneath your shirt.

You didn’t speak as he took a hold of the bottom of your shirt, lifting the fabric over your head, leaving you completely bare from the waist up. You didn’t protest, your body heating up at his touch like it always did. He let out a long breath as he took in the sight of you before him, his hands quickly grabbing your tits, squeezing the soft flesh in his calloused hands, causing your back to arch slightly, your lips parting as an almost inaudible gasp left your lips.

His eyes found yours quickly following your reaction and you nodded at him, no words spoken between the two of you as you fully gave into his touch, crawling all the way onto your bed and scooting yourself back towards your pillows.

“So pretty..” he cooed, his fingers pinching your hard nipples, making you whimper softly, fully giving into him. You reached forward, pulling his hat off of his head and tossing it onto the floor alongside your shirt, your fingers entangling in his messy locks as you pulled him closer to you, wrapping your legs around his middle, bringing his face right up to yours before you connected your lips.

You hummed into the familiar feeling of your soft lips against his, and only a few seconds passed before your mouths had both parted and your tongues were moving sloppily together, his soft groans sending vibrations into your mouth and through your body, your core feeling even hotter and wetter as the seconds passed.

His hands continued to toy with your tits, but they eventually began to trail down your stomach, unbuttoning your shorts blindly as you continued to kiss. You lifted your hips up as he tugged the denim down your legs, leaving you in just your underwear.

You opened your mouth in protest when he suddenly pulled away from the kiss, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you caught your breath, about to say something about him pulling away but stopping once you watched as he pulled his shirt over his head, and your attention was now turned to his naked torso.

“Shh, I got you, I got you.” He murmured, his hands now tugging the zipper of his cargo shorts down, ridding himself of his shorts entirely, the two of you now only in underwear. Your eyes flew immediately to the ever present bulge in his boxers, and you didn’t miss the wet spot right where the tip of his dick was, no doubt leaking precum. You had almost an identical wet spot in your underwear as well, your arousal practically dripping out of you as each second passed, eager for his touch.

“jj, please.” You grumbled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lowered himself back down to you, your lips connecting again, this time moving a lot quicker and more sloppily than only moments ago. Your centers both connected within seconds, you bucking your hips up to grind against him and him grinding himself down against you. Who had gone for it first, who knew. You were certainly on the same page.

“Please what, baby? Hm?” He breathed, holding himself up above you with only one hand as his other wriggled its way between your bodies and down to your wet core, fingers barely even teasing at the waistband before he slipped them inside, cupping your pussy.

“Fuck —“ you moaned, shamelessly grinding yourself against his hand, desperately aching for more of him. The feeling of just his hand had you crumbling, any thoughts of your disagreement from earlier were long gone and forgotten in this moment.

“Use your words, baby. You want my fingers?” He questioned, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, yes, please. Touch me.” You answered immediately, and that was all it took for him to yank your underwear down your legs and push his middle finger inside of you, effortlessly sliding into your slick yet tight walls. Your head fell back onto your pillow, a long exhale leaving your swollen lips as he pumped his finger quickly, adding a second after you began to adjust.

“Goddamn, you’re fuckin’ soaked, woman.” He spoke lowly, quickening his pace once he found a good rhythm, curling his fingers into your g-spot, emitting soft whimpers and curses from your lips, you still being half mindful of your sleeping parents down the hall.

The sight of jj’s furrowed brows and parted pink lips had your stomach turning, and you watched as he watched intently at the sight of his fingers moving in and out of your pussy, a look of concentration mixed with arousal evident upon his features. That and the spots his fingers had found inside of you had you crumbling quickly, your fingertips that were lazily resting in his hair now gripped tightly into his locks, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your orgasm approaching quickly.

“jj, gonna cum, oh fuck, oh — oh god.” You panted, head flat on your pillows now as you felt him quicken his pace, hearing his own moans as you pulled on his hair.

“Yeah, let go for me, baby, come on now.” He urged, and that was all it took for you to let go, your orgasm hitting you at full force. He quickly shot his free hand up to your face to cover your mouth, quieting your loud cries of pleasure. He loved the sound of your sweet moans, but being caught by your parents would be less than ideal. You cried into his palm, your juices gushing out of you and all over jj’s hand and torso, dripping down and soaking his stomach and boxers.

“Oh fuck, that’s right, so good, so good, huh?” He cooed, his fingers slowing down as you rode out your high, uncovering your mouth once you had fully finished and planting several soft kisses all over your parted lips as you worked to catch your breath.

You lifted your head after a moment, your eyes opening to meet his hungry gaze, untangling your fingers from his hair to reach for his boxers. You needed more of him.

“Need you now.” You spoke, voice still a bit shaky as you had just caught your breath. You removed his boxers with his help, his leaking cock springing free from the restraint of the tight fabric. Your mouth watered at the sight, watching as he pumped himself slowly, finally giving himself some relief.

“Need me inside you, sweet girl? Hm?” He licked his bottom lip as you nodded eagerly, a smug grin present on his lips at your neediness. You didn’t care, he could be cocky after the orgasm he just gave you. He could have his moment.

“Please. Please fuck me.” You pleaded, pushing your hips up to rub yourself against his cock. He groaned at the contact, giving himself a few more pumps before tapping his tip against your sensitive clit, causing you to gasp and push your thighs together purely out of reflex.

“Ahh, keep those legs open for me. Gotta open up so I can fuck you, sweet thing.” He tisked, pushing your thighs open with his free hand, positioning his cock against your entrance, slowly pushing himself in. Once halfway inside, his hand trailed down from your thigh to grab your ankle, lifting your leg to wrap around his back, quickly doing the same with your other leg.

Finally getting you positioned like he wanted, he pushed himself all the way in, jaw going slack once he bottomed out, grunting at the depth he reached inside of you.

“Fuuckkk,” he breathed, his messy hair falling onto his forehead as he looked down at the two of you, fully connected. He inhaled sharply before he began moving, struggling to keep his eyes open as your tight pussy hugged his cock perfectly. But he wanted to watch you, that was one of the best parts.

You did everything in your power to not scream, his cock immediately hitting all the right spots inside of you, his pelvis hitting your clit with every thrust. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning however, your arms wrapping around his neck to hold you up, keeping your body somewhat up. Your fingernails found home in the soft skin of his back, each trust and movement he made surely forming scratches into the skin.

“So good, so good,” he moaned, sweat beading past his hairline as he found the perfect pace, his balls slapping your ass as his cock disappeared inside of you, “you’re fucking perfect, yeah, oh fuck.” He breathed shakily, almost whining as you squeezed your legs tighter around his torso, his body pushing closer to you if possible, his dick hitting deep inside your wet pussy.

You were a mess beneath him. The tension throughout the night and the way he was fucking you perfectly was not doing anything to prolong your orgasm. But you could feel by the way he pulsated inside of you that he wasn’t going to last long either.

“Shit, I’m close, baby. Where d’you want me to cum?” He asked, slowing his thrusts for a moment as he attempted to gain composure of himself, wanting to give you one last orgasm before he finished.

You didn’t even hesitate before responding.

“Inside.” You answered, eyes looking up to meet his.

He cocked his head in confusion, stilling his movements following your words, almost unsure if he had heard you correctly.

“Don’t fuck with me —“

“I’m not, jj. Please. Want you to cum inside me.” You assured him, pushing your hips up, urging him to move again.

“You… okay.” He resumed his movements, each thrust bringing both you and him closer to the edge.

“Oh fuck jj, I’m gonna cu-“

“Say you’re mine.” He cut you off, not stopping his movements, his breathing was shaky but his voice was steady, and he was serious.

“What?” You panted, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Say you’re mine.” He repeated himself, soft grunts following his words as he watched your face below him.

You knew what he was saying, and maybe it was the impending orgasm, or maybe it was the fact that you had never felt this way with anyone before him. Maybe after you said it and you both finished you would both get hit with that post nut clarity and go back on your words, but you could figure all of that out later. You could be his. You wanted to be his.

“I’m yours.” You spoke, and that was all it took for him to reach his end, his balls tightening, thrusts sloppy but still quick as he released inside of you in hot spurts, his face falling forward as he moaned, triggering your own release.

The wet sounds of his cock pushing into your cum filled pussy filled the room, his movements slowing down as you both rode out your highs together, eventually stopping completely before he slowly pulled himself out of you.

His cum leaked out of you almost immediately, but jj was quick to reach over the side of the bed and grab his shirt, placing it under your leaking pussy.

“Shit,” he breathed, rubbing your lower stomach gently as your bodies both began to relax, leaning down to kiss your swollen lips gently.

“You still mine?” He asked after a few moments of silence, mentally preparing himself for your rejection, nervous you had only said that in the heat of the moment. He meant what he said though.

“Mhm, I’m still yours.”

[bloomingdog]

Price with an ADHD reader

So self indulgent!

John Price who feels self-conscious thinking you like Soap more because of your similar personalities.

Soap and you are a tumultuous pair, feeding off each other’s energy, you’re good friends, you hang out together just the two of you. He’s not jealous, especially not of Johnny, but he does feel a pang of self-consciousness at times, feels bad about not being able to keep up with you sometimes, about not being enough. He wouldn’t share those thoughts with you, more of an inside thing, he feels silly. Of course those doubts melt away as soon as you’re telling him about how your day went, about how much you missed him, about what reminded you of him. All the possible doubts he had leaving as he gets showered with kisses.

John Price who just stands and watches when you get the zoomies.

A sudden burst of energy has you walking up and down the house following John around, jumping from topic to topic to the latest song lyrics or idle dance move stuck in your head. He watches in amusement and tries to engage in your jumping conversation.

John Price who falls asleep during your late night yapping and still responds with nonsense answers while asleep.

“-And yeah apparently emus can’t walk backwards, don’t you think that's weird? How can an animal just not do that?” Your before-bed rant has been going on for longer than usual, inspired by a Wikipedia rabbit hole that still lingers in your phone’s history.

“Does Laswell know?” He mumbles.

“About emus?”

John Price who’s reluctant to lay on top of you if you ask. 

“Please, please, please it’ll feel good!”

“Love, I’d crush you.” He had gotten you a weighted blanket for this exact reason. “Ain’t the blanket enough?”

“No! Because the blanket’s cold and you’re so much better better!” He’s reluctant, your puppy eyes are working overtime getting him to agree, which he does, of course. 

John Price who just sighs and plays along when you ask him to wrestle you.

In your defense, it' was's a good way to get rid of extra energy or help while understimulated. He’s currently got you in the loosest headlock he can manage while you kick and thrash. 

“Are you tired yet?” No answer comes, just more kicking that makes him release you.

As you try to attack him again, John effortlessly picks you up and throws you on the bed, which earns him a fit of giggles followed by an attempt to tackle him that ends you back in bed.

John Price who comforts you if you ever think you’re too much for him.

Big tears are coming down your eyes and wetting your face, you couldn’t pinpoint where all these feelings came from. You’ve got your face against his chest, voice shaking as you explain how you feel.

“I’m just a lot, you know? And I need you all the time and you like being alone and i want to give you space and I try, but I’m too much and-”

“Okay love, c’mon, none of that.” He cut you off after probably the thirtieth ‘and’. “We need what we need, and we work ‘round that all the time, don’t we? You’re not too much, you’re good just the way you are.”

John Price who lets you use him as a human fidget.

You’ve been waiting in this queue for no more than 5 minutes and it’s still getting you impatient, he notices, of course. The rapid looking-around, your foot tapping are all tell-tale signs of it. He extends his hand to you, which you take, and begin fidgeting with his digit and gloves, it keeps you well occupied, concentrated in the repetitive moments as time passes.

John Price who <3

[rebelliousstories]

Ex Lover’s Lover

Relationship: Cooper Howard x Reader

Fandom: Fallout

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Angst, Strong Language, Suggestive Themes

Word Count: 2,093

Main Masterlist: Here

Fallout Masterlist: Here

Part Two: My Baby Shot Me Down

Summary: Cooper Howard gets introduced to a new up and coming actress after his divorce is finalized. What happens when Barb finds out that Janey has been spending time with the two of them?

The sound of giggles and laughter filled the beautiful California ranch home. It was a sound that had almost never existed there again, but that all changed. Two adults were running around their dinning room in just their bathing suits because someone decided to tickle the other one.

“You ain’t gettin’ me, Coop! Not gonna happen!” The sweet accented voice rang through.

“Oh yes I am, darling.” He replied, darting around the table just in time to catch the woman. Wrapping his arms around her, Cooper began to drag her back outside to make use of their hot tub. She giggled the entire way back, and laughed when Cooper picked her up in a bridal hold to set her in the warm water. There was a tray of drinks waiting for them from before they had gotten side tracked.

“Now that we aren’t goin’ to be distracted any longer,” he groaned as he slipped into the warm water. “Here you are, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, hun. Ugh, this is just what I needed. You have no idea the day I have had.” She took a sip of her martini and relaxed further into the water. Cooper squeezed her thigh underneath the water to prompt her into talking about whatever it was.

“So the new Nuka-Cola ads ran today, and I get it, they want the prettiest image out of the bunch. But the retouching they did afterwards made my lips look twice their size. I look like I have clown lips,” pausing to take a sip, “and when I brought up my concerns to John he said, and I quote, ‘that’s what the people want. They want sex appeal.’ I’m selling a drink, not myself for a few bucks for the hour.” She ended her long rant with another sip of her drink.

“Darlin’ why don’t you find a new manager?” He asked, following her lead with his own martini.

“Cause John is a family friend. If I didn’t use him as my manager, my family would freak out. I’m tryin’ to get them out of the slums in Dallas.” Her voice wavered as she thought about it.

“Well, baby. What do you wanna do about it?” Cooper set down his glass on the ledge and turned his body fully towards his lover.

“I don’t know, Coop. I’m just hopin’ this bullshit dies down before the new movie. I’m just so stressed all the time right now. And I wanna go back to when I was actin’ for the love of it. Not just the love of a paycheck.” Downing the rest of her glass, and eating her olive, her hands were relieved of its glass by Cooper. He maneuvered her from her seat to his lap, and wrapped his arms around her middle.

“Darlin’, you can do whatever the hell you want. If you wanna get back into acting for the love of it, you can. If you wanna change a manager, let your family be mad. You’re gonna take over the world one day. I just hope I’m round to see it.” Howard started to press kisses to any and all skin he could get access to. He was briefly interrupted by her hand hitting his own shoulder, and he began to chuckle.

“Shut it. You’re not that old. You’ll still be around to see me reach your level of stardom.” She teased, pressing her lips against his. Their lips moved against each other as hands began to roam. The couple lost themselves in the moment, and did not pull away for anything. That was, until, someone’s stomach growled loudly.

“You hungry there baby?” Cooper teased, rubbing the front of her bathing suit, right over her stomach.

“You know drinking makes me hungry.” She whined, hitting her lover again when he laughed at her.

“If you think it’s so funny, you can go get food to bring out. How about that?” And she scooted off of Cooper to the bench seat of the hot tub. The man groaned, but made the move to get out of the warm water.

“Alright. What you want, baby?” He asked, wrapping his robe around him to make his way to the house.

“Can you get the cheese board from earlier? That sounds wonderful.” She leaned up to give him a kiss as he passed by, before settling back into the water. Cooper walked into the house and quickly found the board that she had made for an appetizer before their dinner. He was about to leave with the board when the phone rang. Setting the food down, Cooper padded over to the phone, and answered.

“Hello?” He asked, waiting to hear the voice on the other end of the line.

“Coop, hey. It’s me.” It was his ex-wife, Barb, on the phone.

“What do you want, Barb?” As much as he tried to sound indifferent, he was worried it came across as rude.

“Listen, I need you to take Janey. I have a big meeting at work tomorrow morning and my babysitter can’t make it. Please, I really need this favor.”

“It’s a Saturday tomorrow, Barb. What the hell you doin’ that’s so important?” He questioned, leaning against the wall.

“It doesn’t matter. Please, Cooper. Will you come take her for the weekend? You guys can start your week early this way.” She pleaded over the phone. Cooper scrubbed a hand over his face while the other held the phone.

“Alright. Alright, I’ll come get her. Be there soon.” He hung up the phone before she could say another word. With a deep sigh, he opened the door to the backyard and made his way over to the hot tub where his lover looked like she was about to fall asleep.

“Darlin’,” he shook her and watched her slowly come back to the land of the living. “Gotta go pick up Janey. Wanna come with me?”

“Yeah. I’d love to. You know I love that little girl.” She stretched and made her way out of the tub where Cooper waited with her robe. They made quick work of getting dressed and ready for the evening drive. The sun was just about to set when they left their house and got in the car.

It was a little over an hour before they arrived at Barb’s new house where the lights were still on. The entire drive over Cooper kept squeezing her hand, thigh, or really and part he could hold. There was something nerve wracking about seeing Barb knowing what he knew. He was not looking forward to it, but she was the mother of his child; that would never be taken away.

Getting out of the car, Cooper ran around and opened the door for his lover, before grabbing her hand to walk themselves up to the door. He knocked, and waited. The door opened up to the face of his ex-wife. She relaxed upon seeing Cooper, but was shocked to see the woman beside him.

“Hey,” Barb turned back to her ex-husband, “thank you for coming to get her. Come in. She’s just getting her things.” The couple walked inside the luxurious home. Everything in it looked like it was from a magazine.

“Cooper, may I talk to you?” Barb whispered, beginning to drag the man into the kitchen. He turned to his girlfriend, and only went when she nodded. Walking into the kitchen, he placed his hands in his pockets, and waited for her to speak.

“What is she doing here?” She just came out and said it.

“What do you mean?” Cooper responded.

“Don’t give me that, Coop. I thought it was just her imagination, but now I can see that Janey wasn’t lying.” Barb continued, placing her hands on her hips.

“The hell do you mean?” He asked once more.

“What are you doing with a girl young enough to be your daughter?” It was finally out in the open.

“Barb,” Cooper began, “she is a wonderful lady and I’m really happy with her. She’s of legal, consenting age. I didn’t coerce her into anything. She makes me happy and she makes Janey happy.”

“But she is so young. What’s gonna happen when she decides she doesn’t want to be with you anymore and leaves? Then you and Janey are heartbroken.” Her stern words caused Cooper to reel back as if he had been slapped.

“Wow. You really think that she is going to leave me just like that? Because of my age?” He watched as Barb stammered and tried to back pedal on her words. But Cooper just held up a hand, and silenced her.

“Listen, we’ve talked about our age difference. Hell, this is not the first time that I’ve thought about that. But every time I try and bring it up, she’s the one that puts me in my place. We love each other, of course I want her to be around Janey. And they love each other.” Cooper had stunned Barb into silence. The sincerity in his words was shocking to his ex-wife. All she could do was nod without a word as she tried to think. But before she could get another word in, footsteps ran into the kitchen.

“Daddy!” Janey yelled, happily throwing herself at her father.

“Oh, hello sweet pea! You been good for your momma this week?” He pressed a kiss to her cheek as he set her back down. She nodded eagerly, and smiled, which prompted her parents to smile. Another set of footsteps came in the room.

“Sorry, I know y’all were talkin’. But she was so excited to hear daddy was here.” Cooper’s girlfriend had made her way into the kitchen. Neither her nor her lover missed the way Barb’s face screwed up at the mere sight of her. Extending her hand, she introduced and gave her name to the older woman.

“It’s very nice to finally meet you. Janey has told me so much about you.” Barb shook the woman’s hand with a firm grasp.

“Likewise,” she turned to her daughter, “alright. You go have fun with daddy and his friend?”

“She’s not just his friend. Daddy loves Cola like he loved you, mommy.” Her words held an innocence that only a child could have. The three adults looked in between each other with solemn looks.

“Come on, Janey. Let’s let momma and daddy finish their conversation. Can I have the keys, please?” She held out her hands, and offered one to Janey while the other waited for the keys to the car. Cooper handed them over and sent a smile towards his girls as they left.

“At least she’s polite. That seems to be a lost skill for this generation.” Barb commented, tapping her nails against the counter top.

“Yeah she is. Listen, she’s going to be a staple in my life and Janey’s for the foreseeable future. So just try and keep the comments to a minimum. Good luck at your meeting.” And with that, Cooper left his ex-wife’s presence.

When he left the house, he felt like he could breathe again. Letting out a sharp exhale, Howard did not notice his ex-wife watching him from the window with a mournful expression. He opened the car door and smiled at the sound of laughter.

“Now what are we laughing about in here, huh?” He pressed, turning towards his daughter and lover. They shared a look and giggled to themselves once more.

“Nothing. Just laughing about the new advertisement that Janey saved.” She replied, showing Cooper the clipped out image. It was the same one that she had been lamenting over earlier in the hot tub.

“Gotta say darlin’. Clown look is a good look on you.” Everyone laughed at that, and Cooper handed the image back to his daughter before driving out and away, back to his house.

“Can we get ice cream?” Janey piped up after a minute. Cooper looked in the mirror to his daughter, and then over to his lover in the passenger seat.

“Well, I don’t see why not. Whatcha say, Nuka-Cola? Want a Nuka-Cola float?” He teased, squeezing her thigh when she slapped his shoulder.

“Maybe a root beer float. Do you know the chemicals in Nuka-Cola?” She quipped back, holding Cooper’s hand tightly in hers on her lap.

“Alright, well, let’s go get something for y’all’s sweet tooth.” They continued driving, talking, and laughing all the way to the ice cream parlor. And it was there,the Cooper realized that he could find a second chance at love and a family.

[boolger]

A lapdog at a farm - chapter 1

AO3 link. next chapter -> Call of duty. Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. wc: 4,147

Farmer!John Price x Hybrid!Reader, hybrid! Kyle Gaz Garrick x hybrid! Johnny Soap MacTavish x hybrid! Simon Ghost, John Price x Nikolai.

Summary: When Price was young and left his childhood home, a farm in the middle of nowhere in England, he didn’t enter the military. Instead he moved to London, got a degree and a good career, earning good money. He got you, a human dog hybrid as a pet, after feeling lonely - and you lived your best life for years, spoiled and pampered, Price’s lapdog who got praised at every party. Loved and fucked every night. That was until Price decided to return to his roots and go back to farming - dragging you along to the middle of nowhere, away from all the wonders of the big city. Expecting you to accept this sudden change in lifestyle and pretend to be a farm dog. Bad luck however, because you fucking hated it, and became more and more unruly. In hopes of getting you to calm down and to keep his live-stock and farm safe, Price then got three working dog hybrids - and all at once, your life was even worse than before.

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy

author's note: Hi sinners <33 Just a heads up; the reader is gonna be a spoiled brat. If you want a smart and sweet reader who isn’t mean at times, well. Bad news. This ain’t it.🥰The reader is she / her and has a pussy and is chubby. I tried my best to keep the descriptions somewhat vague otherwise. Reader is a cocker spaniel hybrid. I will tell the others along the way. In this universe, hybrids have ears, tail, claws beneath nails and canine fangs. There will be heats and ruts but there is no omegaverse. They will have personality traits of their dog breed and so on. Now. I know there aren’t wild wolves in the UK… but in this fic there is, ok? mwah.

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The countryside was peaceful compared to the city; the absence of the bustling streets and constant traffic, created a quietness that was indescribable.

Out here, at the new farm, the noises only came from animals that lived in the stables and barn or the occasional rumble as a tractor turned on. The wind caressed the never ending fields of wheat and the long rows of fruit trees, under which the goats and sheep walked most days.

The stress here wasn’t the same kind as in the city. Sure , there were stressful moments and sometimes Price looked like he needed to sleep for more than just the few hours he got everyday.

But he didn’t have to worry about the morning traffic, waiting in a queue for an overpriced, questionable tea or coffee. There was no need for him to wear a suit, no noisy, overfilled train cars in the underground. No crowded dog or hybrid parks, no meetings or rules to follow - except those John Price decided for himself.

He was happy, so much was clear to you. It had been three months since the move - Johnhad gone back to his roots, buying back the farm that his parents had used to own a little while ago, using some of his endless wealth on renovating the place. There was no step on the stairs that was loose, like it used to when he was a kid - sure they still creaked, but you weren’t afraid they would disappear from beneath you.

It was modernized, but most of the old charm left. Price fit right in; the furniture he had inherited and never believed he would use was suddenly in the living room. His knowledge of the business world was abandoned in the city, for the knowledge of farming that he still had left from his youth. John got a couple of farm hands and workers, who helped him with the big place.

It was like he reclaimed his own self that had been buried beneath the suits, ties and paperwork. Now he didn’t smoke his cigars from stress, but from pleasure, clearly much content.

It was like the farm had truly made John Price happy once more; his smiles more genuine, his true self stepping forth. Returning to his childhood home and taking over the farm had been the best decision Price had made. There was no question about it.

… and you hated every bloody day at the farm.

The early morning hours in bed with him, being disturbed by the farm waking up, the rooster crowing and John leaving the bed, giving you a pat in between your ears, taking all the heat with him. The constant bugs, the muddy stables and the big animals, the helpers who always teased you for not fitting in, the lack of friends you had out here. The foxes’ screams in the night, the wolves howling, and the cows occasionally mooing sounded like creatures stepping out of nightmares.

You were not made for farm life. Literally. Simply not made for it.

Some would argue that you, as a hybrid pet, didn’t have a say in it and sure , legally you didn’t. But you were a lapdog, an elegant pet. Not a farm dog. Created to be cared for and cuddled, you were a purebred cocker spaniel hybrid; you weren’t made to run around on a farm, following John on his duties And doing work. 

Sure, you had the instincts to hunt a few things here and there, but it was mostly balls and the occasional bird or squirrel. You weren’t a guard hybrid, not really a working dog.

You had had enough trauma throughout your life - you deserved not to be forced into this! You had grown up being trained to be a lapdog, not a working-dog like you felt like John expected you to act like now.

You wanted John to be happy, you really did - you loved your Master! When he bought you a few years ago, when you were still aggressive and unruly (… more than now at least), you had thought he would tire of you like everybody else had. But with patience, rules, training, praise and punishment and a whole lot of sex later, you were a perfect hybrid pet for the city! People always praised how well you looked, laughing when Price said you were really a little troublemaker. You would follow him throughout the fancy apartment, on your daily walks, sometimes for meetings.

But why the fuck did it have to be a farm? He worked somwwhat the same time that he did before, genuinely seeming to enjoy himself. Forgetting about poor you!

Out here, there were no hybrid daycare that you would go to when he had long days, there were none of your playmates nearby, everything stank of animals and there were no places nearby for you to get your hair and fur styled and pampered! No nail technicians, no fancy cafes, no shops for John to buy you things in! No special made coffee or chef-made meals every other evening, no freshly baked croissants.

You felt like you had tried . You really had. 

But after the first week, you had your first breakdown - and as the weeks passed, they didn’t stop. At first, John was sympathetic, like the perfect owner he was.

Cooing at you, kissing your forehead, as he gently scratched your ears. Kissing away any tears, saying it was okay - that you were just overwhelmed, that it would be okay. That you would come to like it out here.

Big fucking joke.

He had tried every trick in the book, in an attempt to please you and made you less upset, but as days turned into weeks and tantrums began to appear, you knew his patience began to disappear.

He followed professional advice and then the advice of the neighbors down the street, Rodolfo and Alejandro (who had caught you running away at one point), tried some of the workers’ advice. He had given you your own room, and it was mostly designed like your own, perfect to the pale green paint on the wall, all your toys and dog beds, your CDs - everything. He had tried hauling you along every day, trying to give you a routine to follow - but after two weeks, he gave up, not having the energy to deal with a tantrum that got worse and worse each day. He went on walks with you, fucked you silly, tried his best — and you didn’t want it.

No, you wanted to go back to your old life. Not this country life that you hadn’t signed up for, with horses that neighed loudly whenever you passed them; they were definitely going to trample you at the first chance, you knew that. You could hear foxes scream in the night, warning you of the dangers. The goats and sheep were so fucking loud and no you didn’t want to go pick fresh apples off the trees - had he seen the size of the spiders crawling on them?

When you in one of your biggest tantrums took off and bolted from the farm in distress, Rodolfo and Alejandro had almost hit you when you emerged from the corn fields onto the road. 

You had cried the entire drive home, no matter what the two men had tried saying, especially as Rodolfo called Price in advance — your master was livid . The worst thing was, that it was not that kind of anger where he yelled at you before punishing you - no, this one was almost silent, a sharp grip on your collar as he dragged you along after thanking his neighbours.

He had belted you then, ignoring your crying and screaming, only stopping when you broke, sobbing and going quiet. He had explained it to you then, what could have happened, what dangers you could have ended in - and as you sobbingly apologized and tried to explain, that you wanted to go back to the city, John had sighed .

Said that he had pampered you too much since he got you, which had made you greedy and attention seeking. Which only made you cry more, as you hid your face in his neck, fingers digging into his shirt, ass cheeks burning.

“Spoiled rotten, little birdie,” he mused, though you could hear the softness in him, your tail wagging a little, hoping to get him to be less mad.

“‘M sorry,” you had whined in distress, upset with yourself as well, ears tipping down, “wanna be good but I don’t like it.”

Your rather dull escape attempt resulted in several things. An AirTag on your collar, so that he always knew where you were. A remarkable lack of treats, sex and then… the crate .

You fucking hated the dog crate. 

Sure, it hadn’t been nice of you to bite one of his pillows into a simple pulp of fabric, feathers everywhere. Or create chaos in the kitchen… or get drunk on his fancy whiskey (that one had ended worse for you, hangover was a bitch and there wasn’t much sympathy from John). And yes, you might have ripped most of the flowers surrounding the house up, until one of the workers had caught you. Maybe pissing yourself in the middle of the living room while staring him in the eyes and ignoring his warnings had been a little…excessive. 

But the dog crate? You hated that thing with a burning passion. 

Hated it when he locked you up, ignoring your whimpers and whines, your promises to behave, ignoring your little howls as he left. 

Mean. The farm had made him mean. Perhaps you had become a bit unruly too, but it was like he didn’t take your clear suffering seriously.

Mean and happy - unruly and suffering. What a pair you were. One of the workers, KAte Laswell, who was a big helper and often stayed over for dinner, suggested a fucking shock collar. You had growled, only stopped when John sent you a sharp look. 

You had even heard him talking over the phone with somebody, saying that he didn’t want to rehome you, but he didn’t know what to do.

That had made you melt a little and you had cried as you had crawled into his bed a couple of hours later, begging him to not abandon you. Fears of never getting to see John again or being loved again by him made you cling onto him as he kissed away your tears, gently fucking you.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

It was a random morning a couple of days later, that you found him still in the kitchen, reading the newspaper, humming to himself while smoking a cigar.

He looked nice like this. Despite how he sometimes muttered about being too old, he wasn’t really that old. Late thirties, and perhaps it was the peace on his face or the sun rays that kissed him, which made him look younger. But still. There was a decade between you, but days like this, you were reminded that it didn’t matter.

“Are you going to stare all day or are you going to join me, Darling?” He asked teasingly, pulling you from your thoughts. You let out a little huff and kissed him good morning, receiving a pat on the ass before you sat down on your own seat. It had been a while since the two of you had eaten together - often he was up at the crack of dawn, so his calm behavior and gentle humming was unusual to say the least.

“Why are you not working?” You asked carefully, as you ate some of the bread, trying to ignore how it wasn’t a fancy sourdough one - though you were pretty sure he had picked it up from a local bakery in the village which was a little drive away.

“Because,” he put the paper down, then tapping some ash off the cigar into his ashtray, before looking over at you, a pleased smile on his face, “you and I are going on a trip.”

“A trip?” You didn’t even bother to be embarrassed about how your voice got higher with excitement or how your tail thumped against the backrest of the chair as you wagged it, “where are we going? When? Can we go now?”

Price had laughed, a happy sound that you knew not many got to hear; it made your heart beat a little faster, made you feel butterflies in your stomach. 

“Well, we got to do a few things first to get ready, and you ,” he used the cigar to point at you, your tail wagging a little faster, “need to not freak out when I tell you where we are going.”

Despite the warning, tears streamed down your cheeks when he told you. John didn’t get mad as a part of you had expected; he knew your abandonment issues first hand, knew how you had been left behind before, from one bad owner to another. 

“You’re going to sell me and leave me with a mean owner and I’m gonna die of hunger and thirst - and - and —“

“Not gonna leave you, princess,” John crooned, covering your face in kisses as you hiccuped and sniffled, clinging to his clothes, “you know that. My favorite puppy. Pretty girl.”

Despite your tears and small sobs, your tail wagged at his words, “silly puppy,” he mused with a smile, gently scratching your lower back, “‘m not gonna sell you. Ale and Rodolfo are looking for a hybrid, I figured we could go look at the auction as well.”

“What if - what if - what if you’ll like them more?” You sniffled dramatically, sure that your life was only going to become worse than it already was. One thing was this bloody farm and the crate, another thing was having to share Price. You didn’t like the idea one bit. If that happened, you were going to show him how a proper tantrum was thrown - the crate would probably be the least of your worries.

As if to prove his love, John bent you over the table, fucking you in between the clattering dishes and cutlery, tea and coffee almost spilling over. Despite how many times your owner fucked you, it made you lose control of your mind every single time. His cock reached so deep inside you that it bordered on pain, your mouth open as you panted and moaned at each thrust; your soft stomach being pressed against the edge of the table, one hand holding onto the back of your collar, the other on your tail. The table rattled, John groaned and moaned, your fingers desperately trying to hold onto anything. 

“My princess,” he snarled darkly into your ear, “you’ll always be mine-“ a moan, a grunt, “- no matter what happens, yeah?”

“Yes ye-ah- yes, sir, I’m yours - ah ah - I’m yours!” you managed in between pants and wails of pleasure, fear of abandonment forgotten in the ocean of euphoric satisfaction. 

You came harder than you had for a while; the reminder of your worth, of how you deserved his worship, making you cream around his throbbing length, legs in spasms afterwards. He pushed deeper, filling you up with a loud roar like sound, his hands moving to grab onto the fat of your ass and hips as he came. Pain and pleasure made your toes curl and a content sigh left you, your tail wagging against Price as he chuckled.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

The auction hall was filled to the brim with humans and hybrids alike. Every owned hybrid followed their respective owners, all wearing mandatory leashes so no pets would be confused with the ones that were being sold. You wore your own pink one with pride, gem stones sparkling. A matching leash connected to the D-ring on it, that also bore your tags. You were convinced yours were the most beautiful in this entire place.

“They’re bonded,” Laswell pointed out, pointing to the papers that hung nearby, showing off general information about them, “gotta get all three.”

You dared to look at the little board with the informations about the three hybrids they were looking at.

“Ah, we don't have space for three, mi amor.”

“eso es una pena,” Rodolfo answered, while you looked over at John - who kept looking at the three hybrids. You dared to peek over at them.

All three of them were enormous .

Two of them wore muzzles, meaning they were biters. At least at the auction. You shouldn’t judge then, not really, but you did... Even though you had worn a muzzle five years ago, when Price had chosen you. You hadn’t tried biting people out of malice; you had been scared and angry at the world. Angry for being abandoned once more, over the fact that you were most likely being passed on to another abusive master. You leaned a little closer to Price, taking in his scent.

Even from the start, despite all the problems and your attitude problems, he had been sweet. Strict at times — probably not enough — but kind.

The biggest one looked like a Great Pyrenees breed, most likely. The fur on his ears and tail looked shorter, badly cut. Probably due to matting or if he refused to get it cut. His hair, a dark blonde almost brown, was in a buzz cut. He had scars, all over - unable to hide because of the lack of clothes most hybrids were given, only underwear. There was a lot in his face, though you suspected a bunch were hidden by the muzzle. He stared into nothing, his ears curled back, though they moved now and again, listening to different sounds.

“Hard to get sold,” Laswell commented and you looked over at her in synchronicity with John, “they’re ex-military.”

Like he had been called to them, a man who wore one of the seller badges appeared.

“They’re obedient once they fall into place,” he happily explained, going full seller-mode, “they’re just not too fond of the auctions - too many people.”

“Makes sense,” Price mused, clearly interested - much to your annoyance. The fact that he asked follow up questions made you frown, fingers tightening in his shirt. He was here to look. To help Alejandro and Rodolfo, who both had continued their walk. You dared to look over at the hybrids again. All three were staring at you and John. 

“How come they were discharged?”

“One of them got a hearing loss -“ he nodded towards them, “the one with the mohawk. And they’re a bonded pack.”

“So only retiring him was out of the question,” John concluded once more looking over at them.

You felt your tail go in between your legs. He couldn’t be seriously considering those three . you couldn’t help but let out a small whine. Price gave your leash a little tug.

“They’re working dogs,” the seller continued, his eyes flickering to you, making you huff, “so they’ll need something to do, not just be pets.”

“Oh I know. I have a farm. Need some work dogs - this one isn’t guarding much.”

They all laughed, your tail going even further between your legs with embarrassment.

“You can’t be serious,” you whined in a whisper to John, not caring that you sounded needy - spoiled would Laswell had said and you ignored her as she rolled her eyes.

“Hush, Princess.” John didn’t even look at you.

“You have animals there?” The seller asked, “one of them is a herding dog - the border collie.”

“I do - several. That’s why there's a need for guarding dogs as well, bloody wolves have been terrorizing us.”

You knew he was telling the truth; he had muttered about dead sheeps and goats several times - even a calf had lost its life to the wolves in the area, despite he and Laswell having shot two already. Even foxes had gotten into the coop, despite the fences.

“They’re good at that too, with their training,” the seller offered, clearly interested in selling them or at least getting John to bid on them. “The one with the mohawk, Soap , will have hearing aids with him, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

You looked over at this “Soap”, scrunching your nose. They were still staring, the biggest one bending down to listen to the third one, a beautiful black man, whisper in his ear. No doubt judging you.

“It says here they don’t do well with others,” you muttered, in a desperate attempt to sway John, pointing to the board with their papers. It did indeed say so, to which you wanted to argue that YOU should be his main focus in this whole thing - how would he even consider adding them to your household if these dogs could get a hold of you?

“It’s in the sense that they’re not really housetrained to be social family pets,” the seller swooped in, pushing your argument away, annoying you even more, “they’ve had missions all their lives. They need to have something to do.”

“I’m sure you’ll get along with them, sweetheart,” Price answered, giving you a small scratch beneath your chin as he finally looked over at you, a glint in his eyes, “some company will do you good.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. Hardly . Price’s smile told you that he thought this was a great idea however. You dared to look at the men again. Still staring, fucking bastards.

The black man seemed like a mix of some breeds, German shepherd and… you looked shortly at the board. Belgian malinois. Fancy. He wasn’t as tall as the big one, but broad and with scars as well. There was a more slender look to him, but his six pack proved he was strong. His curly hair wasn’t too long, probably cut not too long ago. He was looking at you curiously, making you raise your upper lip a little, as if to warn him.

The one with the hearing loss looked like some sort of border collie - covered in scars as well, some of his skin looking like it had been too close to fire. He was broad like the two others, his upper arms the size of your head. He even sent you a cheeky grin, even daring to wink at you. You just looked away, tipping your chin up a little.

“You can look closer if you want, sir?”

You were pulled back into the conversation at once and before you could argue, John had already passed on your leash to Laswell and walked towards the men with the seller. You whined, distressed that he was really, actually considering this.

“You’ll be fine,” Laswell commented calmly, with empathy in her voice for once, though she didn’t look at you, merely at John and the others.

“He is gonna lose interest in me,” you whined, perhaps a little dramatically, bottom lip wobbling a little as you could feel tears welling up in your eyes, “then he’ll leave me in the crate all day and only care about them an—“

“Calm down,” Laswell said, “you’ll work yourself into a fuss.”

“He can’t do this to me,” you argued in a sullen voice, already imagining John forgetting all about you, focusing on these three hybrids for the rest of his life, leaving you cold and lonely inside the dog crate - maybe even rehoming you, “he promised he wouldn’t get rid of me.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Laswell answered just as calmly as before, “John loves you too much, you’re just being spoiled. Hanging out with some working dogs will do you good.”

“They probably have fleas,” you said, your prejudices seeping into your words, knowing you’re being mean, judgmental against your own kind, “they’ll kill me and eat my dead body.”

Laswell laughed. “No they won’t. Worst thing they’ll do, is probably knock you up.”

A high pitched, scandalized sound left you, despite knowing you had an implant. Laswell laughed again, giving your leash a little yank and then scratching you behind your long ears.

“Settle, Princess. That won’t happen without John’s permission.”

You almost cried at the sight of John shaking the seller’s hand.

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They all met up again for the actual auction part and you sat at John’s feet, sniffling a little. Crying hadn’t helped, in fact John had just petted and kissed you, calling you sensitive. Alejandro had gotten a hybrid earlier that they didn’t need to bid on - she was for sale for a certain price. Something about being too intense without enough space to roam, having attacked others before.

Fucking great. Beasts all around you.

John won the bidding on the three working dog hybrids he had been interested in - because of course he did. He spent way too much money on them too, according to you.

One more - or well, three more fucking things to hate about this “farming life” that had been forced upon you.

Maybe John had gone mad.

next chapter ->

[princessbrunette]

jj is so funny because he doesn’t even pick up on half the looks you’re giving him.

he’s always oblivious for a little while, tugging you around with him on a pogue mission only a few hours after he made you cream on his dick so hard you cried. you’re quiet, uncharacteristically so — not even intervening like you usually would when he pipes up with a dumb idea. you physically can’t. you can’t see any of his faults like this, only latching on harder to his charisma and the way he can command the groups attention at the drop of a hat.

you’ll take any excuse to touch him, giving him the big doe eyes as you cling to his bicep listening to him ramble. “look, i’m tellin’ you guys — it’s a solid idea. we got nothin’ else so i suggest y’all listen to me, honestly.” he clucks in that slightly southern accent that makes your tummy get warm. john b sighs, turning his attention to you.

“you allowing this?” he asks and you simply nod, unable to offer anything but a hazy smile.

when arriving to the abandoned building you were meant to be investigating, you get separated for a little bit — much to your devastation. you wait outside on look out with kie and sarah, whilst the boys check out the inside. jj flips a torch in his hand, chipper as ever as he strolls through the building, looking around.

his two friends eye eachother before speaking up.

“so, uh… jayj, i hate to be the one to tell you that you’re totally blind, but i think your little fangirl out there has been craving a little something from you.” john b arrives at his side, addressing the elephant in the room that the blonde seemed unaware of.

“what are you yappin’ about, dude?” jj is distracted, lifting a cover off some old tools lying around on the floor, making a mental note of how they might help them in a jam.

“your girlfriend looks like she’s constantly about to jump your bones.” pope calls bluntly from behind, a few strides back. jj’s attention is captured and he blinks at the two boys who stare at him with knowing smiles. he glances between the two of them before shaking his head.

“oh, nah — gave it to her real good this morning. had her cryin’ on it n’shit. ain’t no way she’s goin’ again, atleast until tomorrow.” he converses casually as they continue down the creaky path. john b and pope look at eachother with clear realisation on their faces, and the brunette slaps his shoulder.

“so that’s what that face is about… okay. she’s uh… dickmatised, man.” he presses his lips together in a smug smile and jj raises an eyebrow.

“cant just make up words, dude. its not fair. some of us struggle with regular words let alone that bullshit.”

“look, all we’re saying is we are proud of you jj. you’ve clearly been putting in the work.” pope teases making john b chuckle, nudging his arm against your boyfriends.

“y’all are so weird. but yes, for a matter of fact, i have.”

once reunited with you, he can’t hold back his own smirk, tonguing at the healing cut on his lip at the way you agree with just about anything he says, constantly reaching to run your hands along his skin. he finds fun in teasing you, purposely flustering you because he can, turning his whole body to face you and imposing in your space.

“damn, lil’ bitta’ dick and you get shy on me? thats actually very cute. i’m flattered.”

maybe you could go again, after all.

[veritasangel]

do the guys get jealous?

ft. simon, gaz & price

⋆ ˚｡⋆ any pov (simon, price) fempov (gaz') ୨୧˚ warnings: suggestive in Gaz' {mdni}

wc: 1k

↣ might do a pt.2 for soap, keegan and alejandro if people want

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Jealous? No. yes

Possessive? Yes. 

There’s a difference between those two that he likes to remind you of.

Makes it very clear that you're his any time he thinks a guy's getting far too sweet with you.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

You were doing your weekly shop when you ran into an old friend from secondary school, chatting away as you searched the aisle.

Simon was in another section grabbing some essentials as he makes his way back over, a look of annoyance on his face as he saunters over.

"Hey baby, I got the bits you wanted from back there, no strawberries though, sorry." He says as he places the items in the trolley.

Places one hand atop your one that's resting on the trolley handle, the other wrapping around you as he rests his head against your shoulder, pressing a kiss or two on your neck, before you gently squeeze his hand, a silent warning to stop.

He stops the kisses but holds his gaze on the man in front of you, "Oh sorry, didn't see you there buddy." He fakes a smile, "Simon. Their partner." he greets him as he holds his hand out for a polite handshake but you know him far too well.

It's awkward but the guy politely introduces himself, shaking Simon's hand, an obvious discomfort crossing his face as he does so and you just know Simon's got a death grip on the poor man's hand.

You pull Simon back a little, and apologise to the guy who nods, saying his goodbyes as he walks off.

"Simon! What the hell was that about?" You whisper shout as you look up at him, a furious pout on your face that he just can't take seriously. "I thought you said you don't get jealous, huh?"

“I told you, baby, it’s not jealousy. I'm just showing them that they don’t have a chance…you ain’t leaving me.”

'I ain’t letting you' he thinks to himself.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

Honestly? No, I don’t think he gets jealous.

Healthy relationship without a doubt.

Knows what the two of you have is real. The connection and love is genuine and the trust is there.

He's just a sweetheart.

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“Baby, I’m heading out with some friends.” you say gleefully, leaning over the back of the sofa to look down at him scrolling on his phone.

He lifts his head, smiling as he sees you, taking your hand and guiding you around the sofa so you’re in front of him, smirking as he sees the outfit you're wearing, “Gimme a twirl then.” he teases, wolf whistling as you do so.

“You going out with the girls?” he asks as he stands up, pulling you in close as he feels you up a little, admiring the look.

“Mhm.” you nod, “Some of the guys are joining us too….” you add, trailing off a little, tempted to see if it gets any reaction

“Well that's nice isn't it? You'll all get to hangout again, been a while since you did.” He says softly, “Jus’ make sure you’re safe, yeah? Text me when you wanna come back and I’ll pick you up.”

“You’re not jealous?” you can't help but ask, eyebrow quirking curiously.

“Jealous of what?” He asks nonchalantly as he sits on the arm of the chair, pulling you with him so you're standing between his legs.

“You know, of the guys being there?” You say as you look down at him, his hands finding yours as he gently rubs small circles on your skin.

“Who are you dating?” he asks, a smug smile crossing his face.

You let out a small laugh, confused, “What? You-”

“Exactly." He leans forward to press a tender kiss to your jaw. "Jealousy's wasted energy, especially when I know you're coming back home to me, sleeping in my bed every night....Lips wrapped around my-"

"Okay! Okay, okay." You laugh, nudging him to shut up as you feel your cheeks heating up.

He grins at your embarrassment, hands moving to your hips. "They should be the jealous ones because you're all mine."

John Price

Price is a very accomplished man. Very admired and respected in his role.

Many men wish they were like him and yet he still gets jealous.

Thinks about the 'what if's?' a little too much.

I think he’s especially jealous if you’re a fair bit younger than him.

Worries he won’t be good for you and that you’d be better suited with someone your own age.

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An enjoyable, relaxing hangout with his team and partner, that's what this was supposed to be. So why is his heart clenching as you talk to Simon by the bar?

He knows you would never, knows his boys would never but the whole evening when you laugh along with them, it triggers a spiral of thoughts. What if he's holding you back? Maybe it'd be better if he let you go, find someone younger?

“You alright?” you ask softly as the two of you walk back home, hand in hand, his jacket draped over your shoulders.

“Yeah, I'm good sweetheart.” He smiles at you, one that doesn't meet his eyes and you know he's lying, but he has too much pride to say.

After a lot of prying on the walk home, he says almost inaudibly, "Maybe I'm too old for you."

It's so quiet you have to do a double take, wondering if he really just said that.

“What? No way, where'd this come from?" you ask, turning to look at him as he grabs his keys from the pocket and opens the door, waiting for you to enter before stepping inside.

“I just- Sometimes I worry that you'll look back and regret this. Us." He says, a little too shakily to sound like the usual renowned John Price.

It makes your heart sink and you pull him into a hug without hesitation, arms wrapped around his neck as you bury your head against him, "No, no, no...That's not true, love. I love this, us. Nobody's better for me, than you. I'd choose you every time, no hesitation, I promise with everything that I am." You say reassuringly to him as a hand finds it's way to his hair, gently playing with it.

You spend the rest of the evening talking through it and reassuring him and it's not long before he's back to his usual assured self, knowing damn well that you two are forever.

༄ cod m.list

༄ reblogs are appreciated if you like it

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Wet Sheets - A John Shelby/Reader One Shot Story.

Because we all love a bit of smutty John of a Monday morning. Yes, we do!

Words - 1,079

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

He wasn’t very adept at it, back when you first met him. You wouldn’t exactly say lousy, but he needed a little tutelage. Of course, John being John, he didn’t take it all too well to begin with, either. 

“What the bloody hell d’you mean? Ain’t had any complaints before. I find everything I’ve gotta find down there alright, don’t I?” 

Oh yes. With his fingers, he needed absolutely no guidance. Push in, hook over, rake, and there he’d take you right on a clear trajectory to the stars. His tongue, though? Hm.  

“What you’re seeking with your tongue, John... it’s about half an inch from where you think it is.”  

He’d huffed. He’d pulled his undershirt and trousers on, muttering about going for a smoke. You’d wondered if he was coming back at all after he’d been gone for fifteen minutes, but he did eventually return, smelling of tobacco and whiskey, pulling himself out of his clothes. His face had been set in steely determination. 

“Right. Fucking get your legs open and show me.”  

You did, showing him exactly where and how to use his tongue against you, and goodness, how you reaped the rewards of him deciding to stuff his pride down, be a good boy and listen. Now, whenever John has his mouth between your legs, you are reluctant to let him surface. Now, he has your pouring for him like warm honey without fail. Every single time.  

“Fucking hell,” he mumbles, his fingers taking over as he pauses from beating the tip of his tongue rapidly over your clit. “I need gills!” 

You arch an eyebrow, snorting softly with laughter. “Are you seriously complaining?” 

“Nah, bab. Ain’t complaining at all, just saying, like. Got a right fucking little sex puddle on me sheets already, you have.” His words are delivered with much triumph, pressing his tongue against the wet of you, flat, firm heat dragging over your bud again and again. Your hips judder, John smiling at your reactions, long licks continuing as his eyes close and his buries his mouth against you.  

His lips bathe your clit in a soft suck, kissing it, moaning around you, hands gripped tight upon your thighs as your soft cries fill the space. Each lick gilds you golden, pleasure thrumming through you, the swell of it rolling tighter the faster his tongue begins to move. Your thighs lock tight against his head, wailing as it builds, the dawn of your undoing spilling over his horizon as the glimmers burst forth.  

Yet, he doesn’t cease. 

“John... I... oh!” You whimper, shaking from oversensitivity, hands fisting the sheets. “But I already...” 

He snorts softly. “I know, but just cos’ you came, it don’t mean I’m done. I ain’t no Johnny fuckin’ half a job, sweetheart.” 

His teeth gently graze your bud, and it sends sparks glimmering through you, tongue rolling over you again firmly, heat misting your spine. His licks are gently placed to begin with, little flickers chased to skittered heat once more, the hot wrap of pillowy heat from his lips encircling your clit, your body shivering in response.  

He sucks a fever at you, tongue circling, hands gliding over your thighs, your cunt trickling onto his tongue as he opens his mouth to drag a firm lick through your folds. The fever of it rushes over you, winds tight, held in the orbit of his control as moonbeams shine through the darkest depths of you once more, coming apart again quickly. 

Those little pin pricks of ecstasy are still tingling as he kisses his way back up your body, sating you with the thick intrusion of his cock, his mouth landing upon yours as he begins to fuck you slowly into the little puddle his tongue created.  

“Like this big, hard cock, don’t ya, love?” 

“Mmm,” you groan, your nails trailing the shortly shaven sides of his head. “You know I do.”  

He gives you a few more long thrusts a little punt of his hips daggering him deep each time he pushes forth, head dipping to lay kisses over your clavicles. “Turn over, bab. I wanna watch your arse bounce as I fuck ya.”  

He slips out, lust blown eyes watching as you arrange yourself accordingly to his wishes, John giving you a little spank on the bum before returning himself to you with a lust-soaked groan. Anticipation creeps over your muscles, feeling him push against you, the stretch of him sending tingles through your walls. He splits you wide, fills you deep, his hands gripping your waist as he fills and empties you with long, even strokes, and god, if you could see the smile on his face at how good you feel.   

It rolls through you like a storm, your gangster lover not remaining contained for long before he’s pounding into you savagely, his abs trembling as his hands fist tight in your hair, pulling your head back. Mutual moans fill the room with the sexiest harmony of sin, your walls fluttering around him, heat creeping up through him like a vine ascending, taking hold of his senses in a swirling tempest. 

White hot pleasure glints through you, tumbling down your spine like a shooting star, John reaching beneath you to rub circles at your clit as his cock punches you deep, splits you wide, remakes you around him. He grits, a groan like tumbling boulders echoing through his chest as he fucks a storm of nirvana through your body, your hips pushing back against him as you cry out.   

Your voice breaks on his name, your waves flooding his shore as you come with a feral wail, his body rapidly driving against you until his cock jerks and he’s joining you, tight bliss come undone, his head resting upon your back. 

“Fucking hell,” he pants, laying soft kisses against your spine, “that’s proper done me in, that has.” 

You giggle softly, feeling him slide from you, pulling your spent body to rest against his in the messy tangle of bed linen. “Not so much that you won’t be able to do it all over again a bit later though, I hope?” 

His grin is wide and devilish. “Like I said, bab. I ain’t no Johnny half a job.  

Some of his god-given talents truly required no further instruction. The way he fucks you remains as beyond perfect as it ever was, ensuring the sheets beneath you never stay bone dry once he's done.