#missus flood

[sectoralchromatics]

worst case scenario happened guys .... this fuck ass typhoon is not going into the mountains. it is going STRAIGHT directly into where i live AFJDLSJALKFJL😭the rain will hit my city THIS MIDNIGHT.

[jwhitewolfbarnes]

the only time John ever cums before you do is when he’s first arrived home from deployment.

he shoves his way in your body, apologizing for the slight burn because it’s been a while but he “just can’t help it baby, been waiting for this. dreamin’ bout her for two months, I just need one.” he likes to have you the first time in any position that has you facing one another. he needs the eye contact, the unspoken conversation the two of you have that grounds him, lets him know that he’s back home. not in four feet of fucking snow or knee deep in swamp water somewhere in bumfuck nowhere hunting slivers of information.

the first time is usually fast, he mutters about how much he missed you- you’re sometimes unaware if he’s talking about you or your pussy- how he’s glad to be back home buried deep in you where he belongs. yes, it feels delectable but it’s not enough for you to cum. you’re too high strung on the emotions of his return and he isn’t quite giving you the amount of stimulation you so desperately crave from him. you know he’s about to cum when he starts mumbling about how much he loves you and how good it feels and then “sorry dove, I just can’t hold it. you’ll get yours, promise- fuck” he groans as you feel that flood of warmth you’ve been missing. once he collapses on top of you, careful to allow for adequate breathing, you just await the next step of the routine.

after a few minutes of scratching his scalp softly, you feel him twitch back to life. “olright dove, promised you’d get yours and I’d never break a promise to the missus” then he slowly makes his way down to guide you to fulfillment of that promise, the first of many for the night

[mysunshinetemptress]

Jealousy,Jealousy

Leah Williamson x reader

Warnings: Not my best, but also my first work back in a while

Your relationship with Leah was still new, so new that the only people who knew about you were your teammates, close friends and both families.

This was the argument you used against Leah whenever she thought someone was hitting on you. A statement that couldn't save poor Grace from Leah.

It was a cold afternoon when Arsenal faced off against Tottenham at the Emirates. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation as the rivals clashed on the field. Leah’s gaze wandered up to midfield where she found your eyes softening as she caught you already looking at her, you were a source of comfort amid the fierce competition.

As the final whistle blew, signalling Arsenal's victory, relief flooded both the players and fans across the stadium. You however happy with the victory went around the Tottenham girls congratulating them on a well-played game amongst the players, Grace Clinton, Tottenham stargirl, approached you with a charming smile. "Hey, great game out there." You thanked her before pulling the younger girl into a hug "I could say the same soon you'll be coming for my starting spot on the senior squad" Grace laughed grabbing your arm "I'd prefer to play with you not in your place" You couldn't help but smile wider at the compliment "Thank you" Grace squeezed your arm her eyes looking you up and down as you turned oblivious in search of your girlfriend. "Hey would you fancy going out with me sometime?" she asked, her eyes lingering on you as you turned back to look at her. You politely declined stating you didn't see her like that but you would love to be better friends, but Leah's keen eyes caught every exchange and she couldn't help but give in to the tiny green monster you often called it, jealousy ran through her as she felt herself getting more annoyed the longer you talked to the younger midfielder. In the changing rooms, Katie, the lively midfielder, wasted no time teasing you about the encounter. "Looks like someone's got an admirer," she chirped, nudging you playfully you hit her arm lightly "Fuck off Katie please." Katie laughed "what I think it's cute but i don't know how your missus would feel about the competition." you turned looking to your girlfriend.

Leah, usually composed and confident, couldn't shake the nagging feeling of jealousy. Her usually bright demeanour dimmed, replaced by a subtle pout. The protective instinct surged within her, igniting a fire fuelled by possessiveness and affection.

You thought you had settled all of Leah's jealous feelings, especially towards Grace but you were proven wrong during the latest England camp. Grace had clung to your side the minute you entered St Georges Park and your girlfriend could do nothing but sit in a huff and glare. "Leah stop staring at the kid like that." Leah turned to look at Lucy "She has stolen my girlfriend and I want her back, Y/N has told her already she's not interested and yet she won't stop swinging out of her and batting her eyes like come on take a hint." This continued on for the rest of camp and anytime Leah was set up against the young midfielder she made sure to add in an extra shove much to your dismay. Leah only seemed to relax when you both were left alone in your shared room. This however ended one night when Leah was woken to a sharp knocking on the door, you turned slightly squeezing her mumbling that you would get it before she lay back down closing her eyes. You rubbed your eyes turning the lock on the door to be met with a teary-eyed Grace "Oh Grace are you ok." Grace shook her head "I...I'm sorry I had a bad dream and I couldn't sleep and I just can I stay with you." you nodded pulling her into the room, Leah turned over sighing unable to fall back to sleep without you beside her "Who is it." Leah sat up when you didn't respond eyes turning to glare at the younger girl who was now clinging to your arm "Just Grace, go back to sleep Le, she's staying the night I'll see you in the morning." Leah wanted to protest, to say that she shouldn't be out of her room after curfew and that she was only using a bad dream as an excuse to sleep in the same bed as you but then she thought back to all the times she did the same thing for years trying to spend every second together until she finally worked up the courage to ask you out. Huffing Leah turned to look at you as you climbed into bed eyes softening when she copped her jumper you were wearing.

Leah relaxed again once camp was over and she could put distance between you and Grace, only it didn't last long as now the younger midfielder wouldn't stop blowing up your phone. Leah knew she had to do something to show Grace you were hers and with the final North London derby of the season due to be played at Tottenham Hotspur Stadium Leah couldn't think of a better time to do it.

During the next match against Tottenham, Leah's demeanour shifted. Her tackles were sharper, her presence more commanding. She positioned herself strategically, ensuring that no opponent came close to you without facing her wrath, especially Grace.

As the game progressed, Leah's protective instincts intensified. She intercepted passes meant for you, shielding you from potential harm. Her eyes blazed with determination, a silent declaration of her commitment to keeping you safe, to keep you to herself.

After the final whistle, as the team celebrated another hard-earned victory, Leah pulled you aside. Her eyes softened as she cupped your face gently. "I couldn't bear the thought of anyone else trying to take you away from me," she confessed, her voice laced with vulnerability.

You wrapped your arms around her, reassurance flooding through every touch. "I'm yours, Leah, I'll only ever be yours" you whispered, pulling her into your arms.

At that moment, amidst the cheers and the camaraderie of the team, Leah realised that her jealousy stemmed not from insecurity but from a deep-rooted love for you. And as you stood together, she knew that nothing could ever come between you. Not some random girl at a club and certainly not Grace Clinton

[forsworned]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀˗ˏˋfailed mission bluesˎˊ˗

꒰ঌa/n໒꒱ this fic was inspired by @ragingbookdragon bc holy shit they are absolutely talented and their writing style and the way they pick out little moments here and there in a chaptered fic kind of way but not quite? just a very casual yet perfect way to write idk if that makes any sense but anyways i just wanted to get out of my writers block and write this

꒰warning(s) ig suggested poly relationship???꒱

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀˗ˏˋrequests are openˎˊ˗

Nobody had anticipated today's events. The mission was a failure. Rare, but it did happen every so often when communications went interrupted, information was falsified and one slip up from one person caused a domino effect. Still, no one was at fault.

"It was bad intel, mate." Kyle softly says to Johnny.

Johnny merely stares at his scotch that had been downed a few moments ago, the ice clattered and seeped at the bottom of the glass.

"I know." He lets out a sharp exhale from his nose.

Price glances over at Johnny before making eye contact with the bartender. "Any chance of a drink sometime this week?"

The bartender chuckled at the playful jab. "Aye, 'll be ready by tomorrow night."

The bartender came over to serve a bottle Stillman's to Price, but he tilted his head in Johnny's direction and the bartender picked up the signal. Johnny's eyes flickered up for a moment and the bartender gives him a kind smile. "On th'house."

The corners of the Scot curl up into a half smile. "Ahh, thanks mate." He murmured. His mind was flooded with distracting thoughts as he watched his glass being filled. He nodded at the bartender and then caught the gaze of Simon, not quite leering, more analyzing than anything but still scrutinizing if only a bit.

Johnny turned away and lifted the glass to his lips. The fiery liquid gave a pleasant burn in his chest. It was quiet save for the sound of Irene Kral crooning over the speakers and the soft pattering of rain against the glass. The bells at the bar entrance rang and the squelching of shoes against the hardwood floors made their ears perk up.

"Hey." She beamed at them, a little glint of light on the gloomy day. Her clothes are drenched as she removed the hood of her rain jacket. Lips glossed, skin dewy and her eyes shining under the dim light. The light frangrance of rosejam and vanilla permeated the air that she stood in.

"Lil late to the party, don't y'think, lass?" Kyle's smooth voice lightened the mood, as if her presence hadn't made them find oxygen once again.

She chuckled. "Yeah, sorry, was--"

"Feedin' that damn cat again, weren't ya?" Simon piped up as he sipped at his scotch and casted a quick glance her.

Her grin grew. "Oh don't be such a--"

He put his hand up to stop her. "'m not drunk enough for this conversation yet."

That earns a laugh from everyone. An impish quip from Simon was nothing that they were a stranger to, although, it happened more often than not when she was around. The mood lifted once more as Price grabbed a barstool and dragged it between him and Simon.

"Hava seat, duck." Price licked his lips as he sipped at his drink and he peered over at the bartender once more as he raised a finger at him.

She smiled at the bartender and waved her hand around and shook her head. "No drink for me tonight, Archie."

Archie raised his brows at her. "The missus doesn't want a drink, t'night?"

"Expectin' a wee one soon." Price larked with a grin as he patted her playfully over her womb.

She laughed and swatted his hand, peering up at Archie. "Not a chance. I'm not in the mood is all."

Archie nodded and went to tend to other patrons that entered the pub. There was a small moment of silence as she huffed a bit and set her bag on the bar. She unzipped her jacket and a pair of hands were on her shoulders.

"I'll take it." Johnny's voice was subdued as he peeled it off her form. She thanked him with a smile and he may have melted at the way she looked up at him with those eyes. He padded over to the other side of the room where the coat hanger was at.

"Taking it a bit hard?" she murmured to Price and Kyle and they gave nods and half smiles.

"Poor thing." She said as Archie brought over a ginger beer, popping open the cap and she laughed. "Thanks."

Another silence as Johnny joined them again. It was a numbing feeling. The feeling of something so grandiose slipping right through your fingers.

Her jaw ticked in annoyance. The sound of molars gritting hard against each other was loud as they glanced over at her. "We were right there."

Johnny hung his head.

"Not your fault, y'know." She fiddled with the cap that was left behind as she sipped at her bottle.

"It's not, Johnny." Simon agreed.

That struck a cord in him. His hand tightened around the glass and he felt a baseball sized lump gathering up in his throat. He decided on keeping his mouth clamped shut.

"Jus' glad you're alive, mate." Kyle clapped the Scot's shoulder.

"Otherwise we'd have to kill ya ourselves." Price chirped up. Another wave of laughter. A small smile adorning Simon's lips as he took another sip of his scotch. The solemn mood overcoming all of them once more as they sat there in silence. Indeed there was nothing they could've done, but the deadened feeling of a failed mission was unmatched.

[syoddeye]

Can you tell us what happened when price found out that she had stolen his radio? In way too curious👀 love your content you are such a good writer 💞

oh boy. the radio. | continuation of this and this. this one got away from me. ~1.3k words. banner by @/cafekitsune.

tags: food, smidgen of dacryphilia, noncon, cockwarming, throatfucking.

price knows something happened. the moment steps inside, quiet, hoping to catch his wife off guard, he knows. after all, he expected to see his wife dutifully working on the cherry pie she promised to make if he allowed her to remain indoors. (she’s been on her best behavior since the flower bed incident.)

instead, he finds the pastry half-pressed into the tin and washed cherries abandoned in a bowl. beneath his ragged breathing, he hears sniffling from the hall. the washroom. at first, he thinks she hurt herself. but that’d be mighty difficult. all she has are her fingers and spoons to bake with. anything sharper is secured. 

he edges down the hall, stopping at a faint crackling, and an even quieter voice.

— ...beg me again, sunshine, and maybe i won’t tell.

ah, nikolai. so the minx snooped around and found his radio. he’s half a mind to barge in and let nik listen in on his latest lesson. but with nik’s laughter mutedly echoing beyond the door, he gets another idea. he silently creeps out of the cottage, waits a few minutes, and then announces himself.

big, clomping steps. whistling a tune. sure enough, the missus hastily scrambles out of the bathroom, smoothing the borrowed shirt she wears—she hasn’t earned bottoms back quite yet, and she’ll probably lose tops now, too—and gives him a tight smile. ekes out an apology and explains she wasn’t feeling well, so she’s behind on baking.

and being a paragon of mercy, john merely drops a kiss to the top of her head and tells her he’s going to wash up.

(he suppresses a laugh at how stock-still she goes at that. poor thing clearly didn’t think that far ahead. probably hid the radio under the sink.)

he doesn’t even look for it when he rinses off. it doesn’t matter, because she’s not going to try it again.

john goes about the rest of his day, feigning cluelessness to his wife’s transgression. he lets her stew. like a guilt-ridden dog who wants its owner’s hand, like a penitent sweating in church. she unravels. more skittish than usual, flinching when he moves through the house, pretending not to stare when he lingers near the washroom.

at dinner, she squirms and barely lifts her eyes from her plate. pushes her food around. no appetite for your own cooking, darl? he teasingly admonishes. can’t let you have dessert if you don’t eat. and you worked so hard on that pie, didn’t you?

it’s the tipping point. the final straw. big, glossy tears flood her eyes and stream down her cheeks. her lip quivers, her chest heaves—she looks so damn pretty when she cries.

what’s the matter, sweetheart? c’mere.

he pushes back from the table and offers his arms.

she can’t refuse. it may be fear that guides her around the table, but it’s hope that plants her on his thigh. hope that he’ll forgive her. (he always will.) hope that he won’t punish her. (he always will.)

poor thing can’t get the words out, so john tucks her into his chest, and waits until she simmers. waits until he thinks she’s mustering the courage to confess.

this wouldn’t be about the radio, would it?

a beat, then a torrent of emotion. all that pent-up energy surges out in a rush of tears and babbling, fidgeting on his lap. to her credit, she skips denial this time and veers straight into confession. she apologizes profusely, curling her fingers in his shirt, beseeching him to not be mad. he’s not. blood rushes south, molten as he swipes a thumb over her wet cheek.

serve me a slice of pie, darl.

the confusion that passes over her face doesn’t stop her feet from moving. he adjusts himself while her back is turned and scoots his chair in. she hovers after setting the plate down, sniffling. 

he digs in. the crust crumbles, giving way to a burst of tart sweetness of cherries. juices mingling with cinnamon and vanilla. not too different from his wife. complex and piquant. a tasty thing in need of refinement and experienced hands. wherever she’s from, she’s clearly accustomed to running wild.

with a crook of his finger, she sinks to her knees just as he sinks his fork into another bite. he spreads his legs to let her crawl between them, eager for the forgiveness that only comes from his cock. once he’s freed, hot and heavy in her palm, he tempers her zeal, holding fast to the roots of her hair.

just hold it in that mouth an’ savor it. s’all the dessert you’re gettin’. 

john’s grip loosens as her mouth sheathes his cock, not bothering to shove her down yet. there’s pie to eat, his favorite, and he plans to relish every bite. take his time eating. he luxuriates in the warm heat of her mouth, the twitches of her tongue against the underside of his cock, pinned flat and pliant. feels her subtly negotiate the muscle and organ for better airflow. soft puffs from her nose. drool gradually leaking from the seal of her mouth, dampening his hair.

she flinches when the fork clatters onto the plate and again when he leans back. he groans at the sight of her. tears and snot and spit mess her pretty face. his cock throbs at how debauched she looks already. her soft lips cushioning him in a gentle hold, slick and shiny. her eyebrows curve up in question. a useless one.

his free hand joins the first in her hair and yanks. burrows his cock as far as it’ll go in one swift motion. the sensation of her throat immediately constricting, the jumping panic—it sends a bolt of pleasure down his spine. he holds her nose flush to him for a prolonged moment, admiring the view and picturing the spots dancing in her vision. her fists curl against his knees. she knows better than to hammer them.

he gives her no more time to acclimate. it is a punishment, after all. it’s supposed to hurt. supposed to be scary. something hard and cruel to make her appreciate all he’s done. his endless kindnesses. nik might’ve collected her, but she’s his responsibility now. No life for her outside these walls, outside of him.

this how it’s gonna have to be? Hm? Am i gonna have to keep this mouth busy?

his hips roll off the chair, hands engulfing the back and sides of her head. each thrust pulls a wet gag, sputtering whines and whimpers. his bucking grows more erratic as he chases release, throwing himself after the tight coil in his belly. the chair scrapes. his heels dig in. her face disappears in the thatch of hair. padding for a soft landing after a mean push.

long, thick spurts to paint her traitorous mouth and obliging throat. 

that’s it, that’s it. don’t waste—none of that, keep those eyes open.

he snarls, cock pulsing as the last of his cum spills. waits until he’s soft, gritting through the stimulation to prolong the indignity. to watch her cry a little more and listen to the garbled apologies. the ingrained gratitudes.

don’t speak with your mouth full, sweetheart. he says as he pulls out with a pop. reaches down as she sucks in air, pulls on the front of her apron until it gives, and wipes his cock. holds it like a leash while she sits on her haunches, cleaning her mouth with her hands. 

john doesn’t excuse her from the table yet. tucking himself away, he holds her watery gaze, and the claw where his heart’s supposed to be uncurls a fraction.

what am i gonna do with you? he opens his palm on his knee and turns it palm up. her cheek presses to it automatically.

are you ever gonna try the radio again? he chuckles fondly when she shakes her head against his hand. good. i like your tongue too much to cut it out.

[closets-closet]

THIS COULD WORK WITH EITHER PRICE OR GHOST AND I LOVE BOTH SO MUCH SOO U PICK 😖

141 finding out on accident that ghost/price is married?!?! BEEN married. They bug him to introduce them to the missus, and he finally does it so they leave him alone, he takes them to his house made a home by the sweet bundle of light, shes a absolute darling, gorgeous thing. They’re kinda shocked how he pulled that

IM MELTINGGHFBDBSBZK

I LOVE THIS, could you imagine the chaos on base when Johnny or Kyle finds out about this mystery woman. Because we know damn well Simon pulled a drop dead gorgeous wife. Anywhosie here’s my take on this amazing prompt.

“Simon Pleaseeeee” Johnny trails out his arms dramatically spread out infront of him. It was just recently Price slipped up and revealed to the team that Simon was married and has a Missus at home, and that’s all it took for Johnny and Kyle to lose their minds. “Simon” Kyle dead pans “Why won’t you let us see the lady” Simon huffs, before looking at both of them, frustration bubbling in his chest. “Not happening mate, work and personal life stay separate.” He grumbles one more time before pushing out of his seat, slinging his duffle bag over his shoulder and making his way to the door. “Now if you don’t mind, i’ve got my lady waitin’ for me at home.”

-

“Dove?” You hear your husband call from the front door of your shared home “I’m back” You appear from around the door way to the kitchen, apron tied around your waist and hair up “Welcome home” You smile “I’ve almost finished dinner for you” He walks into the kitchen immediately circling your waist with his hands burring his face in your neck “I’m conflicted” He admits quietly as he takes you in “The boys want to meet you, but I don’t want them to know how lucky i’ve gotten.” You sigh gently hooking your fingers under the black balaclava that covers his face, slowly pulling it off. “It’s your choice, but I don’t mind having them come by, I’ll make them dinner and everything” You hand brushes over his cheek before planing a small kiss across his lips. “Okay then” He whispers leaving into a little bit more “We’ll have them over”

-

“Finally” Johnny cheers excitedly as they walk up the drive to your shared home, a modest one story at the end of a small residential street. “Got you a quaint little place here” Price comments as they stand at the door, the smell of food wafting out from behind it. “Come on in fellas” Simon says as he pushes open the front door.

“Hello everyone” you greet, voice floating towards them. “It’s so nice to finally meet you all, Si happens to talk about you guys a whole bunch.” The smile you gives them melts the boys all to puddles. “Please come in, make yourself at home” you step aside letting them all in.

“Beautiful home you’ve got here ma’am” Kyle says stepping further into the house that’s littered with framed pictures of you and Simon together. “L.T never told me you clean up so well” Johnny teases as he examines a wedding photos that hangs over the kitchen bar. Simon moves to stand behind you, hands resting on your waist gently. Price moves to stand infront of you extending his hand “John Price” He introduces, You meet his hand shaking it firmly “Thank you for keeping him safe” You respond giving him a warm smile that melts him. “How long ye been married” Johnny pipes up from the living room where he’s petting yours and Simon’s cat. “About 3 years” you question out trying to remember exact dates. Simon lets out a long sigh, a symbol this is going to be a long night for him.

-

-

It’s about 23:30 when the boys leave. “That wasn’t so bad” You sigh taking a seat next to Simon on the couch, wine glass pinched between your fingers “They’re good kids” You mention snuggling close to your husband. “They are” He admits looking down at you, the smell of the whisky he’s drinking flooding your nose “Should have em around more often” you say looking to him “They make you smile in a way I don’t see to often” He looks to you smiling gently “I guess they do” He whispers getting closer to you pressing a small kiss to your lips.

I should be his wife *SIGH*

[writingfromasgard]

Worship [Kyle]

AN: for this reader isn't married to him. It's more of a teasing joke

gif source cw: minor cockworship, dumbly long kiss descriptions, Gaz being too hot

[Masterlist] || Requests are Open

Kyle supports his weight on his forearm, putting it up against the wall beside your head. His eyes, rich pools of deep brown, gaze at you with an amount of love and admiration that leaves you breathless. His lips stretching into a that grin that shows his smile lines around his eyes, coaxing a similar smile from your lips. Your hands instinctively land on his chest, sliding up to rest on his shoulders.

"Do you have to look at me like that?" You ask.

"Like you deserve?" He leans in, nose bumping up against the tip of yours.

It's stupid how smooth he is when he talks to you, knowing how easily his pretty words sway you. If you were half as good as he was with words, maybe you wouldn't need to be so physical with him.

Your focus narrowed onto his lips, making the rest of the world fall away, your breath warming his skin. Your hand cupped the back of his neck, pulling him back in. Your lips meet softly, a gentle brush that brings a wealth of warm over your body. He leans in, moving his hands to your sides, fingers digging into your skin.

You pressed your lips more firmly against his, deepening the kiss with an intensity that surprised even you. His lips parted, inviting you in and eagerly, you teased his tongue with yours. It became more urgent, a soft moan slipping from him. You drank it in, reveling in the noise coming from him.

Your other hand traced the curve of his back, pulling him closer until there was no space left between your bodies. The heat of his skin, the scent of his cologne, everything enhanced the sensation of feeling his lips against yours.

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, his own dark with passion and adoration. Both of you slightly breathless, a soft smile tugs at the corners of Kyle's lips. His hand still rests on your waist, his thumb gently tracing circles that send tingles across your skin.

"Missus Garrick, you can't kiss me like that. It'll give a man ideas." Kyle softly whispers.

"Maybe I've got a few of my own, Mister Garrick." You tease, "We could head home right now and I'd show them as many as I can before you're too tired."

He groans again, his head falling back to look up at the ceiling. With the rest of his team just a few feet away in the dimly lit bar, it would be easy for the two of you to slip out unnoticed. His eyes dart to their direction briefly, calculating the time needed to sneak unnoticed

He glances back at you, a sly grin forming on his lips. "I'll take lead."

He takes your hand, and you both move casually towards the door. The noise of the bar covers your footsteps, and before anyone can notice, you're outside in the cool night air. The city lights cast a soft glow on the street, making the walk to his flat all the more enjoyable. A few laughs and softer kisses shared along the way until the door finally swings open.

Kyle's slick, pushing you up against the door the minute you close it behind you. His lips crashing into yours while his hand wraps around the back of your neck. His knee nudges your legs apart, forcing you to grind on his thigh. You feel yourself lulling toward a dazed state, warmth flooding low in your belly.

You gently push on his chest, not wanting to be derailed from those ideas you had in the bar. He pulls back without hesitation, taking a step back.

"No go?" Kyle rubbed the back of his neck, looking apologetic.

"Very much go.. But I said I was going to show you my ideas." You lick your lips, pushing off the door. "Let me take the lead this time."

Surprise colors his face, "My baby wants to take lead tonight? I'm not going to say no."

Confidence sweeps over you, your hands taking his to guide him into his bedroom. You adjust the dimmer to keep the room lights low, a warm glow illuminating the space. You guide him to stand with the back of his knees touching the bed's edge.

"I might not be good with words.." You say softly. "But I can show you how much I love you."

Kyle's eyes don't leave yours as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed. There's a magnetic pull to lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before starting on your plan. Your knuckles graze his stomach as you lift up the edge of his shirt over his head, eyes taking in every gorgeous inch of him. The single scar he had on his upper chest, close to his collar bones.

You lean in, kissing it like it'll make it disappear. You two weren't together when it happened but he's told you the story. You've seen bruises and cuts on his skin; you kiss every spot you can remember until you're kneeling in front of him, working off his shoes. When you look up at him, he smiles softly, reaching to cup your cheek.

"Help with your pants?" You reach for them, unzipping them.

He nods, lifting his hips up for you to take them off, boxers included. It's the first time he looks away from you, turning bashful as his hard cock springs out. You can feel yourself wanting to drool all over it, let your spit drip down his shaft. You wet your lips and lean forward, kissing the underside.

Kyle digs his hands into the comforter, moaning softly. You look up at him, catching his eyes darkening with lust. You lick at the path your lips created, going back to play with his balls. You gently cradle them, fondling the weighty orbs. He lets out a throaty groan of your name when you suckle one softly, hips bucking up.

You switch to the other, hand wrapping around his shaft to stroke it gently. His mouth falls open, head tilting back. Your mouth moves up to kiss the base, unable to resist when he was getting louder with each stroke. You pulled back to spit on your hand, slicking up his cock with it. A fat bead of precum leaks out of the tip, and you can't resist covering the head with your mouth to clean it off.

His hands tighten on the blanket below him, hips bucking upward to get more of his cock into your mouth. You moan, eyes locking with his half-lidded ones as you take him deeper. His body tenses, muscles flexing in his abdomen. You work his long cock until your nose is pressed against his curls nestled at its base. Your eyes flutter closed; something about the weight of him against your tongue makes you want to stay there until your lungs beg for air. You pull off, spit dripping down his shaft.

"I should do this more often. I love feeling your cock in my throat." As you speak, your hand is stroking his shaft, keeping his pleasure building.

"Baby -"

You wrap your lips around his tip again, taking him to the base before he can finish his own sentence. There's a strangled sound from his throat, his hands holding your head to move you faster. You revel in the sensation, letting him fuck your throat at a hypnotic rhythm. His cock slides in and out with ease now, your throat willingly accepting the intrusion.

Your hands find his thighs again, squeezing them. You suck harder, the taste of his precum mixing with your spit. You can feel it drip down your chin, eyes looking up at the man using your mouth as he pleases. His breath hitches as your eyes connect and his legs tense, like he's close to spilling every drop in those heavy balls into your mouth.

You take him down to the base one more time then slowly pull off of him, savoring the groan of protest. You clean off your chin with your thumb, popping it into your mouth. Kyle swallows hard, breathing ragged. He drags you up for a kiss, shoving his tongue into your mouth. You break it off with a chuckle, hand wrapping around his cock, slowly stroking it.

"I've came so many times on your dick.. Always fills and fucks me so good." Your cheek nuzzles the slick side of it as your hand starts pumping just the head of his cock. "Always takes work to fit you inside my cunt because you go so deep."

Kyle drops his head back, thrusting into your closed fist. "Filthy mouth on you tonight. Don't stop. I'm close. Please fuck don't stop, babes."

Your lips spread into a wicked grin, waiting for the signs that he was right on that edge. You mouth the underside of his cock, sucking lightly on it. His groans egg you on, making you move your hand faster.

You watch for the tensing again, his hips moving faster.. You jerked your hand away, smile growing as curses slip from his mouth. Your hand pushes on his stomach, careful not to touch his dick. His breathing is labored as he falls back on the bed, arm thrown over his eyes.

You take the take to strip, tossing your clothes beside his before straddling his hips. You push his arm up, looking into his gorgeous brown eyes. You know the burn from his cock stretching your walls is going to come as you sink the tip into your wet pussy.

You're deliberately slow, savoring every inch of his cock. His hands grip your thighs, helping you sink down at your own pace until you're wiggling down the last inch inside. You lean forward, kissing his lips, feeling his head drag against your walls. You moan softly, rolling your hips to make sure he's fully embedded inside you.

He grips your hips, listening to the soft thwap of skin on skin as you build your rhythm up. He starts rolling up, meeting you when you drop down. You sit back, putting your palms on his thighs to give him a better view of his cock disappearing into your greedy cunt. The new angle is hitting your g-spot, making your legs squeeze his sides.

"Kyle." You moan, hips moving faster now.

Kyle's eyes bore into yours, one hand slipping between your bodies, "I can't last much longer. All your teasing.. and this tight pussy. Taking me so damned well - fuck."

A whine leaves your throat and eyes trying to maintain contact with his. Your fingers squeeze his thighs as your breathing becomes erratic, hips moving faster. His jaw clenches tight, veins in his forearms bulging.

Sweat beads down the back of your neck, your lips part, breath catching in your throat. Your walls flutter then clench around his cock - a long, drawn, cracked version of his name leaving your throat.

Kyle grips your thighs, hissing as he releases a groan of pure pleasure. He's slamming you down on his cock one final time, ensuring he's balls deep inside your tight pussy. Liquid warmth fills you, your walls squeezing every drop he has to offer while you two come down from your respective highs.

With a lazy smile, you lean over him, kissing his lips in several soft pecks. "I hope you understand how much I love you, Mister Garrick."

His hands cup your cheeks, pulling you to press your forehead against his. "Missus Garrick, I don't have any doubts about how much you love me. I love you just as much."

[ragingbookdragon]

But Are You Really?

COD Boys x Reader Blurbs

**********************************************************************

Price:

She frowned at the guards before her who were too busy chittering to notice her. “Excuse me,” she repeated herself for what seemed like the millionth time. “I’m here to see Jon. Can you please call him?”

One of the guards looked at her and rolled his eyes. “Look love, we were born at night, but it wasn’t last night. Fuck off.”

“I’m telling you, he works here! Jon!”

“There’s a fuck-ton of John’s here, lady, be specific!” the other griped and before she could respond, a voice echoed across the gate.

“Missus Price!”

The guards spun as she made eye contact with the Scotsman jogging over; relief flooded her. “Oh, John, thank goodness.”

Soap looked over the guards. “Is everything alright here?”

One of the men snorted. “Ah, you must be the John she’s looking for, Sergeant. Keeps telling us a John is waiting for her.”

The Scot cocked a brow. “Because the Captain is.”

The two went white. “Wait—you mean, she’s…?”

“Captain Price’s girlfriend? She is.” Soap took her arm in his like a gentleman. “C’mon, Missus Price, I’ll take you to the Skipper.”

Gaz:

“I’m telling you that Kyle is my boyfriend,” she sighed for what seemed like the millionth time.

“Bullshit,” one retorted. “You’re too sexy for a guy like him.”

“First of all, sexy coming from you isn’t a compliment. Secondly, what the fuck is that supposed to mean? ‘A guy like him?’” she glared at them. “Kyle’s a fucking hero and one badass motherfucker who works hand-in-hand with the Captain Jonathan Price while your asses are sitting here guarding a fucking gate.”

The other guard held his gun and took a step towards her. “What did you just say to us?”

She inhaled sharply, suddenly aware that she was very much so unarmed against two armed guards. “I—uh, I—”

“There you are, babe, I thought you got lost.”

They turned to see Gaz coming through the gate, a grin on his face; her sour expression flipped into a dazzling smile, and she greeted him with a kiss that had the guards looking away, and Gaz blushing when they pulled away.

“Nah, the modeling shoot just took a bit longer than I thought.” She took his hand as he walked her through. “Wanna see the promo-shots?”

“Always.”

Soap:

She cocked a hand on her hip and glared at the guards. “Look, I’m not even going to try and be nice. Call John MacTavish down here now.”

“We aren’t privy to taking orders from civilians,” the guard griped. “Get lost, lady.”

“JOHN MACTAVISH! BRING YOUR ASS DOWN HERE NOW!” she bellowed from outside the gates, cupping her hands to her mouth for added distance. “IF I HAVE TO COME IN THERE TO FIND YOU, I’M GOING TO—!”

The guards tried to shush her when a yell echoed from the courtyard, “OR YOU’LL WHAT!” they all spun around to see Soap stomping over. “BEING YOUR BOYFRIEND IS LIKE BEING IN HELL ITSELF!”

“OH, THAT’S RICH CONSIDERING THE FACT THAT YOU KEEP MY FUCKING APARTMENT SEVENTY-SIX WHEN YOU’RE THERE!”

The guards weren’t even going to try and pry the two apart as they yelled in each other’s faces about leaving the toilet seat up and forgetting to unload the dishwasher, but while she had that on him, he seemed to have the fact that she moved his shit around the apartment as revenge.

She tried to walk away, but Soap’s hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist, tugging her back over the base line and into the base. “You let go—”

“Aye, shut ‘ur trap,” he retorted. “Nattering like a fucking cicada in my goddamn ear. Might as well chatted it off.”

“Oh, you fucking bas—”

Ghost:

She could feel the weight of their stares on her, and their laughter chipped away at her mood. “I’m being serious,” she muttered. “Simo—Ghost, and I are dating.”

The guard cackled. “Yeah, and I’m the fucking Queen of England.” He waved her off. “That bastard doesn’t have a girlfriend. Look at him. He doesn’t even have any friends.”

Indignation shot through her, and she got up in the guard’s face. “Simon has friends. He has Price, and Gaz, and Soap. He doesn’t have many, but he does have friends. And he has me. I am Simon’s girlfriend.” Fear dripped in her veins as the guards seemed to stand offensively at her, and she added with her heart pounding in her chest, “And I’m as cowardly as they come, but if it came to it, I…I would lay down my life for him. The world needs Simon. I need Simon. He’s a hero and a better man than either of you.”

One raised their hand at her, either to strike her or intimidate her with a feint but his hand didn’t get farther than beside his head when someone grabbed it, spun him around and slammed him against the wall. “You gonna strike a civilian, soldier?” a cold voice rumbled behind his ear. “That’s an offense I’d see you punished for. Even more so for it being my lover.”

Her expression eased as she saw Ghost appear before her. “Simon,” she murmured, and his eyes darted to hers, softening a quick moment before turning frigid again.

“If you ever raise a hand to her again, I’ll cut it off and make you eat it one finger at a time. Am I clear?”

“Crystal!” the guard hurried and Ghost shoved him to the ground and secured a hand around her waist, bringing her over the gate.

“C’mon, love.” His voice was low and gravelly. “Sorry about that. Tried to come earlier but the meeting ran late.”

“You were there when I needed you,” she replied, leaning her head against his chest. “Like a knight in masked armor.”

He looked at her, eyes shining in a way that told her he was smiling at her.

[aplaceforyourhearttorest]

Missus Eat Pavement ⭒ James Hetfield (18+)

Part One

Part Two

Your heartbeat ricochets through your chest and against your ribcage as you take in the unfamiliar setting around you, anxiety caging you in as the barricade surrounding the stage digs into your navel and the shoves against your back almost pull you over it.

Behind you, you can almost hear your friend's call out to you as they're pushed farther back into the crowd and near the pit, but you couldn't be too sure. The bright lights that were once filling the first half of the outside arena, dim to a low and almost translucent yellow as music abruptly begins and quickly ascends into a fast and rhythmic beat. Cheers ring out and reverberate harshly against your eardrums, causing you to wince and almost cover them in shock from the sudden onslaught of sound.

Your hands shake as your eyes are forced to readjust to the low glare coming from the propelling lights that shuffle across the stage, your palms damp from the iron-clad grip you have against the unsteady metal in front of you.

Through your peripheral vision, as you look around in panic as the pressure and weight against your back begins to lift your feet from the ground, you see a head of curly, dirty blonde hair settle into place on stage, not even twenty feet away from you.

Bright blue eyes sweep over the first few rows of screaming fans and an excited smirk begins to adorn his lips, before his eyes widen as you come into view, your face pale with dread as your knee buckles over the barricade and gravity remorselessly plummets you forward.

A yell from the stage bleeds over the loud thrum of music, as your palms fly forward to try to stop the uncomfortable landing on the concrete beneath you, but to no avail. Uneven gravel makes harsh contact with your bare skin, causing red to bubble up and cascade down your fingertips and shins.

Crying out from the sting and the harsh impact, you shut your eyes in pain, and you gasp in a deep breath, oblivious to the sudden halt of music and the silence now weighing down around you.

Your stomach churns as you shakily lift your upper half and lean back to sit on the heels of your shoed feet, wincing as small pieces of gravel dig into your injuries from the movement. Tears spring to your eyes as you look down in shock at the now raw and scuffed skin on your hands and wrists, and you jolt up at the frantic sound of multiple sets of feet hastily making their way over to you, your anxiety accelerating as voices from the crowd behind you begin to pick up once again.

"You're no use now, man. Just like you weren't when she fell. Might as well go back anyway." A mellow voice condescendingly drawls out, causing you to look over and make eye contact with a young man in a no-sleeve, skull printed t-shirt. The annoyed expression on his face ceases as he takes in your tear-stained cheeks. Wincing and letting out a low whistle as he looks down at the matting mess on your legs and lower parts of your arms, he hesitantly offers you a palm and sends you a gentle smile when you slowly accept, his hand wrapping around one of your elbows.

"Do you know who I am?" He asks out over the background noise, letting out a hum of amusement as you shake your head no. "Well, that's alright, babe. My name's Kirk, and I'm gonna take you backstage so someone on our team can help you get all nice and cleaned up. We'll come and check up on you after."

Shaking your head and wincing at the rush that comes along with it, you lean on his shoulder as he guides you into a standing position, uncharacteristically at ease with him beside you. "I don't want to be a bother. I'm sure it just looks worse than it actually is." You murmur, trying to keep your own worry out of your tone. Refusing to look back down at the blood in fear of feeling dizzy once again, you instead glance up at the other members on stage. Your eyes widen, surprise flooding through you as you realize that the show was stopped for your well-being.

A man with a pair of drumsticks squats down in front of his set, his face impassive as he wields his bangs back into a worn-out headband, his eyes hardening as he stares behind you at the security. Another man with wild, curly dark hair that's slightly shaved on both sides, sits on the edge of the stage, his bass resting against his thigh as he tries to quiet down the crowd with his raised hands. He sends you an apologetic grin as the crowd seems to get louder instead. Kirks speaks up before you can assess the rest of the members, catching your attention once again.

"I'd say we've bothered you instead, seeing as to how well you're doing at one of our own concerts." Kirk muses, his sharp teeth shaping into an easy going and charming grin. Wrapping an arm around your waist and mindfully placing one of your own around his shoulders, he lets out a playful huff as he straightens you both up and begins to walk carefully.

Smiling despite the amount of pain you feel, your anxiety begins to slowly ease as you're guided away from the unrelenting crowd, and toward a long hallway with a multitude of doors. Momentarily pausing mid-limp, a chill runs through you as you feel a set of heavy eyes staring at your retreating figure. Looking over your shoulder, you freeze as your eyes make contact with the blonde-haired frontman, his eyes beading into you and watching your every step. The honeyed light that propels itself around the stage, makes its way to him and basks him in the tinged luminescence. His once bright blue eyes, now stare back at you with a darkened look, causing the light reflecting itself in his eyes to look like a star in the night sky. You blink repetitively, as if you were in a daze, before hastily looking away as his face sets into a grimace and he places his attention back on to the crowd.

"Is he mad at me for ruining the show, or something?" You ask wearily, your stomach ridden with nerves as you watch the man tighten his grip on the microphone and open his mouth to begin to yell.

Raising an eyebrow, Kirk looks over to his band member, before smiling cheekily to himself.

"No, that isn't anger, sweetheart. He's worried about you, just doesn't know how to show it," Kirk reassures you. "That's James, by the way. And if you think that reaction is bad, wait until we're done, and I'll tell you all about the time this girl actually ate shit at one of our shows."

⭒

You smile gratefully as the last bandage is wrapped around your upper thigh, the medic on standby lightly tapping your kneecap before standing up.

"Now that's one way of getting some rockstar's attention, huh?" She teases, the crow's feet on the sides of her hazel eyes becoming more apparent as she grins down at you. Blushing in mortification at what happened earlier, you go to place your head down in embarrassment, before pausing as your neck begins to protest.

"Please don't remind me," You groan out, your gauzed palms wrapping around your sides as your stomach begins to flutter. "I don't think I can ever show my face around here again. And I don't even know most of their names. I barely even knew which band I was coming to see before this morning." Eyes glancing at the large sticker on the wall that says METALLICA in a grunge and outstanding font, you try your best to push back the feeling of dread. Of course, you'd embarrass yourself and bust ass in front of one of the biggest bands in the world.

Letting out a placating sound, the elder goes to place a warm hand on your sore shoulder, before turning her head towards the now opening door. Pursing her lips to hide her fondness as the members barge their way in, she silently waves at you before making her way out.

You let out a sigh of relief as Kirk is the first one to make his way through the door's entrance, uncaring as the door slams loudly against the wall and the doorknob wobbles despairingly in its wake.

"She's alive." He croaks out, his terrible impersonation of Frankenstein causing you grin widely and forget about your prior accident. Kirk pushes his sweat-laden hair back from his face and plops down next to you, before grabbing ahold of the nearest half drunken bottle of beer and guzzling it down in one shot. You watch in nonhidden interest as he goes to grab another, your own throat starting to feel heavy as you watch him go at it like a madman.

"Put down the Old E before you need to get your stomach pumped, you crazy bastard." Another member yells out, his accent making him sound slightly drunk himself as he stumbles in, his headband now wrapped around his wrist and his expression more youthful. Your smile turns into a grimace as he faces you and begins to laugh.

"The girl of the hour, Missus Eat Pavement!" He chortles out, his face going playfully serious as Kirk throws an empty beer can in his direction. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm glad you're alright, and James really chewed security a new one. The asshole's were beaming red for the rest of the hour."

Ears perking up from the sound of his name, you peer at the door before slumping back down in your seat. The man and his other band member were still nowhere to be found.

"Lars Ulrich," The heavily accented man announces as he crouches down to haphazardly reach for a beer in the mini fridge. "And the one you seem to have a hard on for and Jason will be back in a little while." Kirk sputters around his bottle as he struggles to swallow his current mouthful, while you shrink into the cushioned sofa and try to make yourself as small as possible without irritating your injuries.

"He just seemed angry is all." You mutter, taking interest in the ceiling as Lars sends you an amused look that blatantly says bullshit. "And you're into that?" He asks you, his tone turning judgmental, before his eyes fill with mirth as footsteps begin to echo in the hallway next to where you're sat.

The pit in your stomach comes back full force as the man who you now knew was James makes his way into the dressing room, his eyes immediately meeting yours as soon as his feet step over the wooden floor's entrance.

"Feelin' better?" He asks you, the cadence in his tone making your gut clench involuntarily. Mentally shaking your head at yourself in disbelief at how you were reacting to just his presence and sound, you physically nod and send him a small smile. "I am, thank you."

Eyes still on you as he makes his way over to one of the chairs across the room, James nods as he catches a beer that's thrown at him. "Why have security if they aren't even going to do their fucking job?" He grits out, his calloused thumb snapping open the can with an audible click. You swallow thickly as you catch the animosity in his tone, while Kirk and Lars send each other a knowing glance.

"Be glad your girls in one piece, at least. Remember the last one that was shoved over? Had to get her first four teeth redone." Lars shivered out, unknowing that his words would make the both of yours cheeks color, though yours were only apparent. James roughly runs a hand down his bearded chin and clears his throat, finally moving his gaze to the condensation running down his alcoholic beverage.

Kirk clicks his tongue and nods reverently, his hand tossed in the air as he closes his eyes in exhaustion. "That's the one," He exclaims, hand blindingly reaching over to lightly smack you on the shoulder. "Better to chafe ass than eat it, am I right?"

"Depends on who's ass it is." Lars cackles, causing the room to erupt in howling laughter. An easy grin makes its way onto your face as Jason tiredly walks his way in.

"Hey! Glad to see you're doing alright." He beams, his heart shaped smile causing your grin to soften. You thank him politely as he passes you a cold beer and sprawls himself out on the carpeted floor. Comfortable silence fills the room, before Jason's head pops up.

"Hey, did you come here with anybody? It's getting late." Eyes widening as your friends come back to mind, you quickly go to stand up, before wincing in place.

James' eyes follow you as you begin to panic, disappointment filling him as he automatically assumes you must have come with a date.

"Can I borrow a phone?" You ask, kicking yourself for forgetting about your friends so easily. Lars nods and walks toward you, his available hand outstretched for you to use as leverage. Carefully grasping onto his with your own gauzed one, you send him a grateful look as he nods toward the hallway.

Kirk slowly opens his eyes and shifts to fully face James as you make your way out of the room. "She didn't say anything about a girlfriend or a boyfriend, and we've all seen the way you've been acting since your eyes landed on her," Kirk rushes out, speaking at a volume he's sure you wouldn't be able to hear coherently. "I suggest you make your move and grow some balls before we leave this pissbucket of a town and you never hear from this girl or see her again."

Jason hums out an agreeance as Lars nods with Kirk's words. "I agree, she's cool. Can't find her balance to save her ass, but at least that'll make her fall for you even quicker."

James shakes his head in disbelief, before laughing wholeheartedly at his longtime best friend's twist of words. "Shut the fuck up," He huffs out amid laughter, before placing his beer down and wiping his hands off on his jeans. Taking a deep breath and brushing his fingertips against his palms in an anxious tick, James hesitantly makes his way over to you.

His heart swells as he watches you laugh without restraint, joyous at the fact that you were still able to find humor after such a traumatizing event.

"I'll be alright, I promise. I've been taken very good care of, everyone has been great," you say into the phone's receiver, your cheeks beginning to redden as James leans against the wall nearest to you and sends you a reassuring smile. "I should go, I'll try to be home soon. Don't worry about me, guys. Buses are going straight through until two, so I've got plenty of time to catch one before it's too late."

James bites back a triumphant grin as he finds his in, and patiently waits as you say your goodbyes. Reaching over to place the phone back into place, you raise an eyebrow at the content look on the handsome man's face. "What?" You ask, your tone inquisitive.

"I can give you a ride home instead. It's no big deal, producer gave it to us to borrow for joyrides in the small towns we tour in. I'm sure you aren't more than twenty minutes away, and it'll be a lot safer." Watching as you bite your lip in worry, James licks his own in response.

"But you were on stage for over an hour, and I'm sure the other guys don't want to be dragged along." You respond unsurely, guilt already weighing you down from keeping the guys up and taking up enough of their time.

"I was actually hoping it would just be the two of us, this time at least. Since we're here for another few more nights." Butterflies create a frenzy in your gut as you watch his expression turn hopeful, his eyes glancing down at yours with an intimate intensity.

"If you're sure." You trail off, before biting your bottom lip in excitement as James' lips spread with a wolfish grin.

"Just follow me."

⭒

"What the hell is this?" You ask in between laughter, causing the singer and guitarist next to you to chuckle as well.

"This, is Bessy. And she's here to give you the ride of your life." He bellows out loudly, causing your cheeks to hurt from the way they spread widely with amusement.

"So, Bessy is also known as The Beast, huh?" You ask, your ribs aching as you're guided towards a black truck with horns attached to the front of the hood. James hums out an answer as he opens up the passenger side door, and hesitantly grazes his large palms against your waist.

"Is it alright if I lift you up a little?" He asks huskily, the scruff of his beard grazing against the sensitive skin underneath your ear. Biting back a gasp and holding off a shiver, you nod in agreement. Your eyes close in temporary bliss as he lifts you up easily and deposits you onto the elevated seat, the callouses etched into his skin dancing across your goosebump-ridden flesh as he lets you go.

James watches, enrapt, as your eyes close momentarily, before opening up a shade darker. He has to take a deep breath and force himself to gently close the door before slowly make his way over to the driver's side.

You carefully run the tips of your fingers over the leather interior of the truck as he situates himself and inserts the key into the ignition. James lets out a sputter of unfiltered laughter as you gasp out in shock from the loud rumble the truck lets out as it turns on.

"Not used to big trucks around here?" He asks you playfully, causing you to look over at him. "Never had a reason to get inside of one until now, I guess." James' breath catches in his chest as his eyes rake over your delicate features, your tone coming out at-ease and tranquil.

"You're doing something to me, doll. Something I'm not entirely used to."

The honesty and bluntness in his voice causes your heart to flutter, and you grip the uninjured skin of your thigh to hold yourself back. "James," You murmur out, your voice coming out strained. "Please, take me home and kiss me goodnight."

Clutching the steering wheel tight with one hand and the other securing itself around the gear shift, he makes you an offer. "Only if I can do it again tomorrow night."

⭒

Strong hands entangle themselves into the tendrils of your hair, holding you in place as you gasp out against flushed skin. Your bitten-red and swollen lips gape open as the gruff of James' beard teasingly makes its way down your neck, and his hot and heavy tongue trails its way down to your collarbones.

Desire thrums through you and your hips raise with the sensation, the material of your skirt stretching as your thighs spread open, your clit beginning to pulsate.

"James." You moan out, before wrapping your hand around his throat delicately, holding him upright as his eyes close in ecstasy and his breath stutters. Carefully sliding off of his lap and being careful not to rub against any of your bandaged cuts and scrapes, you grin enticingly as your eyes take in the love marks you left on his readily available skin.

Pressing your thumb into the red and blotchy hickey that adorns the skin right where his beard ends on his neck, you clench your thighs together tightly at the sound that emanates from the man beside you.

"Thought you only wanted a kiss." You breathe out heavily, your hair a mess and disarrayed on your shoulders.

Opening his eyes blearily and letting out a soft sound of disbelief and desire, James rebuts, his entire expression screaming out disheveled. "Thought you only wanted a ride home." Gentle laughter bubbles up in your throat, and James smiles and reaches over to grasp at your hand. Raising it to his lips and placing a delicate kiss over the gauze wrapped around it, he asks you, "Tomorrow?"

Carefully rearranging your fingertips to graze your pinky against his, you quietly promise and reassure him.

"Tomorrow."

[saintsir4n]

MORE SHELBY’S

when eden meets michael grey

—

1921

“Oh Michael, this is your cousin-in-law, Eden.”

Polly proudly introduced her to her son, she clutched him tightly as he sheepishly fiddled with the cufflinks of his cheap suit. Eden waddled in with the help of Tommy, her bump was getting big and she was ready to give birth in days, everyone knew it.

Arthur and John snickered once they saw the astonishment on Michael’s face. Their young cousin knew that Tommy, the head of the family had a wife, but she didn’t know what she looked like, every time he asked his mum… Polly, she answered, like one of the few people to rein your wild cousins in. It was the understatement of his fucking life, and Eden was truly a stunner.

“I can’t be that big can I?” Eden asked, with a smile. “Tommy, you said I wasn’t that big.”

“You look beautiful alright,” Tommy rushed out, with a hand resting on her back.

“She’s carrying another Shelby in there Michael,” Arthur nodded to his sister-in-law.

John clasped his hands together, “Here’s praying it’s a fuckin’ boy.”

“There’s already too many of you lot,” Eden scoffed, then stepped forward, feeling Tommy’s eyes on her as she stood before Michael.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he nervously shook her hand, immediately thinking he maybe should’ve kissed her cheek or hugged her but, his cousin didn’t look like he would let her go. “Another Shelby?”

Before she could respond, Arthur did.

“Apart from John’s kin, Ada’s little one, you've got another cousin, little ankle biter,” he teased, earning a small smile from his cousin.

“Inara, spittin’ image of Eden but with Tommy’s eyes,” Polly informed her son, as Eden sat down with Tommy assisting.

Their six-year-old daughter was about to be seven, inquisitive and cheeky she was, whenever Inara would get grumpy she’d look like her father but whenever she was lively and joyful she was the very picture of her mum.

“Yeah, she’s a brat,” John’s words made the married couple snap their heads in his direction.

“Oi, you don’t want to compare children,” Tommy pointed out.

“Not with your roster Johnny,” Eden quipped, making the room chuckle.

John rolled his eyes, “Fuck off.”

Eden pointed at him, “You do not want to rile me up, It could induce labour you pillock and I’m not givin’ birth here.”

“Yeah, leave it John boy, you do not wanna see a kid come out of her,” Arthur said through his laughter.

Tommy playfully glared, “Stop talkin’ about my missus and my baby.”

Michael sat back, amused by the bickering. As first impressions go, he was pleasantly overwhelmed, the men were playing with their guns like toys before Tommy settled them. It was obvious Tommy ran things, he was the one who Michael first met. Tommy was confidant, powerful and very dangerous, that was clear, but his wife was something else. A beautiful woman, but to put up with this family, she had to have something up her sleeve.

“Where is Inara?” Michael asked, breaking the arguments flooding the room.

“She’s with my mum,” Eden spoke softly, stroking her bump.

“‘Nara threw a strop yesterday, sayin’ she didn’t want another sibling,” John stated.

Tommy huffed out a smile, “Well it’s too late for that.”

“She’s fuckin’ gettin’ one,” Eden agreed. “You’ll meet her soon Michael,” for the first time she looked at the boy, really looked at him, she saw his eyes, the detail swimming in his iris’, “My god you look so much like your mum.” She found herself choking back sobs, missing the joy on Polly’s face but catching the shock flashing across Michael’s. “Sorry, anythin’ and everythin’ gets the tears flowin’.”

John wasn’t shocked, “Cried over some flowers dyin’ didn’t you Edie?”

“Watch it,” Tommy warned, rubbing a hand over her back as she wiped her tears.

“Last week it was a candle blowin’ out.”

“And next time it’ll be a knife in your face,” Eden snapped, groaning at their laughter.

Michael was startled by the threat.

“There’s my girl,” Tommy pressed a kiss to her cheek before she pushed him away. “Pol, can you boil the kettle,” he noted the pot of tea was bare as were the cups.

Polly nodded, knowing how much Eden drank during her first pregnancy, her second was even worse.

Michael gulped, although no one apart from Tommy caught it. The teen lowered himself into a seat as his mother scolded his cousins for their poor habits, claiming she didn’t want him to mirror them.

“You should meet Isaiah, he’s around your age Michael,” Eden said, sending a look toward Tommy. “It’ll be good for you to make a friend.”

Michael nodded, listening to whatever advise he could take, eyes darting between Eden, trying not to get caught looking at her too much, and so he would look toward his cousin Tommy, who stroked her large bump and then his mum who returned with a cup and the steaming kettle fresh from the fire.

He occasionally heard the mumbles from his other two cousins — Finn and Ada, he hadn’t met yet — John and Arthur snickered off to the side, still stood up as if they were waiting to leave.

“… friends, what’s the point? They might end up like Eden and Grace,” Arthur whispered, quite harshly to his younger brother.

John’s mood soured at the mention, “That bloody barmaid.”

They knew not to mention Grace around Eden. Their sister-in-law fought she found a friend ever since Enzo and Martha passed and Dorris moved to London, but was a huge mistake. The Irish Woman’s betrayal caused the hole in Eden’s heart to grow as did her paranoia.

Tommy felt he should’ve protected her more, but he trusted Grace as a friend, especially since he didn’t have many female friends. But it costed him a bullet to the shoulder.

Even with Lizzie, Esme and Dorris from a far he was wary about everyone who surrounded the family, even if they were family.

Tommy was constantly thinking. Always.

“That won’t happen with Michael. Isaiah is loyal, you’ve seen him, Eden practically raised the boy,” John said quietly. “He’s Jimmy’s son.”

“I ain’t worried, we just have to be careful, not everyone’s a friend alright,” Arthur muttered, knowing that Isaiah wasn’t the one he didn’t trust.

“But family is family.”

The two broke apart to see Tommy right behind them. They didn’t even hear him move.

“Fuck, Tom,” John cursed, eyeing him.

“Keep your bloody trousers on,” Tommy scoffed, “you ready to go?”

“‘Course Tom,” Arthur nodded, shoving John forward, “you need to wear a fuckin’ bell on ya.”

“Yeah, alright.” Tommy smirked, then turned back to to the table, to see Eden sipping on some tea with a pensive look on her face. He pressed a kiss to her head as he stared at his Aunt, “Make sure he treats my Edie well, Pol.”

“Get going,” Eden playfully shoved Tommy away just as he gave her a chaste kiss on the lips.

“Don’t worry Michael, we’ll be back to show you, what’s what,” John grinned.

Polly gasped, “You’ll do no such thing!”

“Let’s leave ‘em boys,” Arthur said, “Wouldn’t wanna ruin the tea party.”

That had John snickering.

Michael smiled, watching as Tommy scanned Eden again.

The pregnant woman waved at him, “Bye, my love.”

“Darlin’, stay safe,” Tommy didn’t want to leave her for too long. “The both of you, alright.” He was pulled away by his brothers as he nodded at the mother-son duo, “Pol, Michael.”

When the door slammed shut behind them, Michael coyly smiled at his mum.

“They seem nice.”

Eden and Polly laughed.

The latter spoke, “They’re anythin’ but.”

Eden agreed, “But they’re your family, so got used to it.”

——

a/n:

I was thinking what if Eden met Michael before his corruption… so season 2.

[ddejavvu]

ok so now im stuck on the whole stepdad!james maybe dark ask i jsut send in, but obviously this james is the tried and true, big beefy rugby lad, gentle giant, that type.

but you just know that the lads take the PISS outta him, like he doesn’t introduce ur mom as “the missus”, or anything endearing, but once the boys find out that ur sorta kinda his step daughter?? ohh the porn jokes come flooding in.

want her to call u daddy james? oh stepdad im stuck over the couch again!!

and james can’t help but flush red cus he doesn’t really like ur mom like that, but he wants to be around you cus ur pretty and nice (not to mention ur a lot closer in age), and then. oh then. u get an almost-boyfriend.

a guy who sorta tries asking you on a date so u sorta try and go, but james is a fuckin baby about it once he finds out. all petulant and flushed cheeks bc he CANT say anything to u bc he’s not an official authority figure in ur life, or a potential romantic interest cus he hasn’t said so, so he’s stuck between a rock and a hard place so he tries to put issues in place like forgetting to dry ur date dress, or making ur favourite meal bc oh bug im so sorry i totally forgot ur going out tonight!! :((

i just want beefy james potter and his big fat fucking tits at this point that’s so cringe but MY GOD 🙏🙏

this post is 18+ (and so are its characters) and dark, minors dni.

THIS IS SO SPECIAL TO ME :')) james is already a certified lover boy but when he can't express that whenever he wants to?? totally whipped!! he's constantly calling you honey or love or sweetheart and when his friends realize that he doesn't call your mom any of that shit they lay into him so hard </33 sirius sends him porn links that he passes on his way to whatever he's looking for that are labeled stepdad or stepdaughter something along those lines, along with teasing remarks like 'this kinda looks like your kitchen. been up to anything fun with y/n?' or 'if you're looking for any ideas ;)'

when.. when you tell him you're going out. oh my god. he doesn't know what to say!! he can't stop you, and if he tattles on you to your mom she won't stop you, because what reason would she have? so he just nods all stiff and tells you he's happy for you. he bolts from the room as soon as he can, and you think it's kinda weird/mean but he seems fine later so you brush it off!! but the reason that he's fine is that he's just schemed with sirius and remus to get you to stay home for the date and he's confident now that you won't go </3

you're so right he does bait you with your favorite meal.. he calls you downstairs to ask you to taste the sauce for him and you come down in a full face of makeup!! he tells you that you look so pretty, but asks what it's for. you're like james.. my date?? and he goes ohhh, honey i forgot! i made your favorite :( i thought we could have a movie night!! your mom's at work :') and you feel sosososo bad bc he seems so hopeful about it and you don't want him to think that you don't like him!! but you're still planning on this date, so you tell him you'll eat light and come home early.

not good enough for him!! he just smiles and nods and tells you your dress is fresh out of the dryer, but ohhh it shrunk :( it's too tight now!! he's so sorry for ruining it, he must have put it on the wrong setting :( he'll take you to the mall tomorrow to replace it!! and you're pretty discouraged now, your outfit is ruined, you feel guilty for leaving, so you just raincheck the guy :( you feel super bad, especially because he thinks you're just getting cold feet, and snaps at you that he wouldn't have enjoyed your company anyways. this means you're sad and feeling guilty, and james gets to croon over how mean he was and how sweet you are for still feeling bad and he wraps you up in his big strong arms beside the stove and lets you bury your face in his big broad chest and he coddles you for as long as you’ll let him :’) he shovels your comfort meal into your mouth and puts on your favorite movie and snuggles up under blankets with you and at the end of the night you end up snoozing on his shoulder while the credits roll :’) he carries you up to your bed and tucks you all snug under your covers and he can’t stop himself from kissing your forehead :’)) your face is warm and flushed and he yearns to kiss your lips but he tears himself away and leaves you there with a promise to himself that he’ll treat you better than anyone else because it’s what you deserve :’)

[pfhwrittes]

Here's my take on @stuffireadandenjoy's prompt "Price’s thoughts while reading a smutty romance novel." from this post.

Not quite what the prompt asked for, but I couldn’t help myself. Also the book Price is reading is entirely fictional to my knowledge but if there are any similarities between it and any published works it is entirely coincidental and accidental! 

492 words of TF141 banter at John Price's expense under the cut.

– “Jesus -” John huffs out before hastily cutting himself off, just in case any of his sharp eared subordinates catch on and decide to poke their noses into what exactly their captain is reading. 

“Eloise whined into Lord MacTarrant’s broad, hairy chest as she felt his thick length probe at her wet entrance, ‘Please Sir!’ she cried - Hey! I was readin’ that!” Soap squawked from over John’s shoulder, trying and failing to snatch at the lurid purple cover as John snapped the book shut. 

“Didn’t know you knew ‘ow to read, Johnny.” Simon teases from John’s other side. John grumbles deep in his chest at getting caught by these two jokers. At least Garrick hasn’t - 

“What’s Fairy Liquid reading?” Garrick pipes up as he walks into the rec room. 

Bollocks. 

“No’ me! The Captain!” Soap wrenches his arm back from where he’s been slapping ineffectually at John’s wrist. Bloody child. 

“Alright then, what’s Cap reading then?” Garrick breaks into a wide grin as he plunks himself gracelessly at John’s feet. Fuck. He’s trapped on the sagging sofa, pinned between Simon perched on the arm, Soap at his back and Garrick (the traitor) blocking his frontal escape. If he wasn’t so miffed at getting caught reading The Lord’s Lover he’d be proud of the way they managed to pin him down without him noticing. 

“None of your concern, sergeant.” John growls out, he needs to nip this in the bud. Now. 

“It’s smut!” Soap crows triumphantly just as Simon snakes the book out of John’s grip so he can flick through the pages.

“It’s not bloody smut!” John bristles, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. 

“Eloise shuddered violently as Lord MacTarrant sucked her nipples into the scorching heat of his mouth. ‘Please Sir! I can’t take much more of your teasing!’ she sobbed, feeling her core flood with a wetness she’d never felt before -” Simon reads dutifully, pitching his voice into a breathy soprano as he quotes the ever randy Eloise. 

“Sounds like smut to me mate!” Garrick’s grin stretches even wider as John feels his cheeks flush a blotchy red in embarrassment. 

“Alright, alright. That’s enough.” John huffs, holding out his hand so Simon can drop the bloody book in his palm. “The missus gave it to me -”

Soap cuts John off with a wolf whistle, “Oh I bet she did, sir.” 

“Oi, none of that mate. Louise is a good woman.” Garrick’s grin has dropped into a stern line. Good lad, John thinks to himself and gives Garrick a short nod of approval. 

“Sorry sir, didn’t mean to imply - well, ye ken.” Soap mutters abashedly. John revels in the slightly uncomfortable silence that follows before heaving himself to his feet. 

“If that’ll be all gentlemen. I think I’ll finish this -” John gestures with the book “- in the privacy of my own quarters.” before he stalks out of the rec room. 

– Excerpt of a text transcript between two private numbers later that same evening:

>> I enjoyed the book, love.  << I thought you would, Captain 😘

[sarahs-secrets2]

It's All Temporary (Phillip Graves x Reader) ࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

Request for anon (thank you so much lovely!), i just finished YOU s4, and this song was in one of the scenes and it felt very fitting. Longest fic I've ever done!!!

based on Bells in Sante Fe by Halsey

fem! (no use of Y/N)

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: reader is kidnapped (no harm comes to reader), pre-established relationship, swearing, mentions of a gun (not fired), mentions of being tied up, not realistic in any sense, pet names

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

The sun shone through the kitchen as you busied yourself getting dinner ready before Phillip came home from his deployment. He was sent down to Las Almas with the Shadow Company about a month ago and that was all he was able to tell you, everything else was confidential. You preferred it that way, if you knew the details of what he did you just knew you would be even more worried than you were normally every time he shipped out. 

The two of you had been dating for almost 3 years so you had dealt with your fair share of long deployments. Something about this one though made you miss him more than usual, maybe it was the fact that he was taking more missions or that even when he was home he was still working. You couldn't blame him of course, but sometimes you missed having him all to yourself. 

The oven timer beeped as you quickly wiped your hands on the apron before tugging on the handle letting the smell flood through the kitchen. Your hands slipped into the oven mitts as you pulled out the hot glass dish, it clinked against the granite as you set it down. Setting the oven mitts down and closing the oven you went over the list in your head to make sure you didn't forget anything for when your boyfriend came home. Usually, you would offer to pick him up, but since he was the CEO of the Shadow Company there was a bit more of a security measure to make sure their Commander got home safely. 

As you were about to start cleaning up, the doorbell rang. You thought it was early for Phil to be getting back but maybe he wanted to surprise you? Quickly you untied the apron from your waist, tossing it gently onto the counter before rushing to get the door. 

“Phillip,” you let out an excited squeal as you swung the door open.

✩｡:*•.─────  ❁ ❁  ─────.•*:｡✩

“Good work Commander, enjoy some time off,” one of the Shadows patted his back as they departed from the plane.

“You too boys,” Graves tossed a wave to the group as he slung his duffle over his shoulder before making his way through the airport, he knew you were waiting at home for him, and knowing you there was probably food waiting for him as well. The glass doors opened as he exited the airport where the black escalade awaited him. The perks of being CEO of a private military company included a cushy ride home, along with maximum security 24/7. 

“Welcome back Commander Graves,” the man opened the door to the car, taking the bags as Phillip slid into the back seat. Adjusting in the seat, Phillip grabbed his phone out of his back pocket as he shot you a text to let you know he was headed back. 

Just got in the car, should be home within the hour see you soon doll 

The car lurched forward as he continued to catch up on his missed notifications from the flight as he headed home to see you. 

✩｡:*•.─────  ❁ ❁  ─────.•*:｡✩

The driver stepped out of the car, opening the door for Graves to jump out. 

“Thank you, see you in a month,” Phillip laughed as he patted the man on the back and slipped him a fifty. 

“You’ve always been my favorite, Commander Graves,” 

“C’mon Joe, call me Phil please,”

The driver laughed as he popped the trunk and handed Phillip his bags, “Have a good night Phil, and tell your missus I said hello,”

“Will do,” Graves waved as he walked up to the front door. As he went to ring the doorbell he noticed something was different, the door was cracked open. His brow furrowed as he set down the duffle, digging through it to find his pistol. Phillip used the gun to tip the door the rest of the way open, his military instincts coming through as he moved throughout the house checking each room as he went through. 

“Hello? Anyone there?”, his voice echoed through the empty house. He finally found his way to the kitchen, the food you had made sat on the counter completely untouched. Graves holstered his gun as he rubbed his forehead trying to piece what was happening together. 

“God dammit,” he mumbled under his breath as he walked around the kitchen island. A crackling sound under his shoe caused him to step back, looking down he saw broken glass scattering the floor. “What the hell happened here,” he quickly whipped out his phone trying your number. 

Ringing, voicemail, hang up, try again. 

Ringing, voicemail, hang up, try again.

Ringing, voicemail, hang up, try again

He tried it over a hundred times, but no answer every time. Finally admitting defeat, Graves picked up the phone again this time dialing 911. 

“911 what is your emergency?”

“My-my girlfriend,” he paced the kitchen, “She’s not home, she should be home, I think someone took her,”

“Okay sir, I’m locating you now okay, I-”

“The door was open when I got home, I’m military, the door shouldn't have been open,” despite being shocked Phillip Graves understood the gravity of the situation and he was able to put aside the emotions that bubbled up inside him to do whatever he needed to do to get you home safe. “There’s broken glass all over the floor, and I haven't been able to get in contact with her, I tried her phone and she didn't answer, it's not like her,”

“Take a breath for me sir, unis are on their way okay? They’ll be there in no less than 5 minutes,”

“Yeah,” Phillip breathed out, “Okay yeah, thank you, ma’am,” he hung up as he sat down at the kitchen table.

Before he could even process the phone call he just had, the knock on the door pulled him away from his thoughts. He jogged over to the door where 2 men stood in front of him.

“Mind if we come in?” Phillip stepped aside motioning for them to enter, “Your girlfriend missing right?”

“Yeah I just got home from deployment, was out in Las Almas, and the door was open when I came home and there’s broken glass all over the kitchen,”

“Do you think she just dropped a glass, cut herself, and ran off to the hospital?” the shorter of the 2 men spoke up. 

“No,” Phillip glared at him, “She would've called me, her car is still in the garage and I called her phone a million times, no answer,”

“You packing?” the officer pointed to the gun on Graves’ hip.

“Sir, I’m Commander of the Shadow Company, of course I’m packin',”

“Shadow Company…” the shorter one spoke up again, “Don’t think I’ve heard of ‘em,”

“Then seems like we’re doin’ our job right, how about you boys do yours hmm?”

“Alright we hear you, let’s head down to the station to get some more information and we’ll get some guys in here to sweep the area and get some evidence, sound good?” Phillip nodded as he and the officers headed out the front door. 

✩｡:*•.─────  ❁ ❁  ─────.•*:｡✩

Your wrists were sore from the scratchy rope tied tightly against them and your head was pounding but you weren't sure from what. Looking around the room there were no identifying factors to tell you where you were. It was dark, and the metal chair beneath you was cold against your legs. It seemed to be an old warehouse, with empty boxes and machinery scattering the open floor, you were placed precisely in the middle. Attempting to adjust in the chair you became aware your ankles were tied too. Your head spun trying to remember what had happened and why you were here, did Phillip know? 

✩｡:*•.─────  ❁ ❁  ─────.•*:｡✩

“Right through here,” the officers led Phillip to an interrogation room.

“The hell am I doin’ in here?”

“It’s just procedure, so we can figure out what happened,”

“I already told you a million times I came home the door was unlocked and there was glass all over the floor, then I called you guys,” 

“We just want to make sure we have all the details, Commander,”

“She’s out there and you guys aren’t doing shit to find her,” Graves was becoming more agitated with every question they asked, and that he had already answered. 

“Sir, I can promise you we got our best guys out there working on this right now, we just-”

Phillip stood up from the chair as his fist slammed on the table, “Find her dammit,” he ran a hand through his hair as he paced around the concrete room. The detectives looked at each other trying to find a way to calm down the man in front of them. “This is a high-level issue you know, I shouldn't be at some county precinct for this shit,” Phillip huffed out as he was getting more frustrated with the lack of urgency from the men sitting at the shiny metal table across from him, “I’m the CEO of the goddamn Shadow Company, I could find her myself at this point,” 

“That won’t be necessary sir, it's best to let us handle this since it is our jurisdiction, we just need you to calm down and tell us what you know,”

“What I know? What I know?” Graves repeated back, “You think I’m involved with this? Quit pussying around and find her,” he threw himself down in the cold metal chair, resting his head in his hands praying you were alright, “Told you everything I fuckin’ know,” he mumbled. 

✩｡:*•.─────  ❁ ❁  ─────.•*:｡✩

Phillip finally was able to elevate this to get out of the “county precinct,” and was using his cushy Commander perks to track you down. With some help from his connections, he was able to get permission to work alongside police in finding you and whoever had you.

“Check the security system first, it should've been running,” Graves shouted orders around working desperately to find you.

His phone buzzed, quickly pulling it out to read his text from the unknown number

Wire $50,000 to the account in the following text, do it and she won’t get hurt. 

“Got something, c’mere take a look,” Phillip placed his phone on the center table so everyone was able to get a look at it. 

“Are you going to do it?” one of the assisting officers spoke up.

“I don’t know… fuck,” he rubbed a hand over his face, “Give me a second,” he grabbed his phone off the table.

I need proof of life and the location of where she is before I send anything

He sighed as he waited for the response. 

Attachment: 1 image.

You’ll get the location after we get the funds, Commander

His eyes scanned the photo, his heart dropped seeing you in that position, he couldn't even imagine and just looking at it made him sick. Graves took a minute to think as he came up with a plan. 

“Okay, here’s what we’re doing. I need a bank account set up with $50,000,”

“You’re actually going through with this?” a voice broke through the room, heads turned to see who actually spoke up. 

“Who said that?” Phillip’s head swiveled, “Come up here,” the man who spoke up shuffled through the crowd to stand in front of the Commander. 

“Sir,” 

“If you’d let me finish… what’s your name?”

“Officer Jones sir,”

“If you’d let me finish Officer Jones maybe what I’m saying would make more sense,”

“Apologies Commander,” the officer scurried back, allowing Phillip to continue on.

“Like I was saying, set up the account with $50,000 and then send the money, Once it’s sent, I’ll get the address from whoever the hell is on the other side of this,” he paced the room as he went on, “From there I’ll be able to track where the money was sent, y’all got that technology right?” a few heads nodded, “Good, good,” Phillip mumbled to himself, “Once I get the info on where they are we’ll have 2 groups, one going to the pieces of shit location and the other are coming with me to find her,” he paused, “Am I understood?” 

A slew of “yes sirs,” flooded the room as everyone got to work 

✩｡:*•.─────  ❁ ❁  ─────.•*:｡✩

You couldn't gauge how long you had been in the damp warehouse, it could've been days for all you know. The whole time you were hoping Phillip was on his way. You hadn't seen anyone since you had woken up, it was hard to determine if that was a good or bad thing. 

A doorknob jiggled, followed by the sound of a door swinging open, your head shot up looking to see who was coming through. It was none other than Phillip Graves, he was in his casual clothes but had a bulletproof vest on as he walked into the room, his pistol drawn as he surveyed the area.

“Clear,” he chirped to the men behind him, he looked forward making eye contact with you, “Holy shit,” he ran towards you and immediately untied your wrist and ankles, freeing you from the chair. You dropped to your knees and Phillip kneeled down next to you as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him. “Thought I lost you,” he mumbled into your hair as he held you tightly. You weren't able to muster words as tears of relief flowed out. “It’s okay doll, I’m here, I got you,”

“Commander,” a voice near the door caused both of you to turn your heads, “ Just got an update from the other team, they got them but we should probably head out of here just in case,”

“Good work,” he nodded, “But you’re right, let’s get out of here, quickly,” Phillip hoisted himself up, then offered a hand to you, assisting you up, “Can you walk, are you okay?”

“I’m okay Phil,” you took a breath as you stood up, “Just a little shaky,” 

“Let me help you darlin’ please,” he placed his arm out for you to wrap your hands around to help you walk. You looked up at him with thankful eyes, you didn't need to speak for him to understand what you meant. 

✩｡:*•.─────  ❁ ❁  ─────.•*:｡✩

Phillip hoisted you into the black escalade, lightly closing the door behind you. He walked around the car before swinging open the other door and sliding in next to you. 

“What happened to me?” your hand reached out to his hand that rested on the leather seats.

“Doesn't matter right now, just glad you’re here safe with me,” he smiled as he squeezed your hand in return. “C’mere, lay your head down I’m sure you’re exhausted,” he patted his lap singling for you to rest your head. You wanted to protest, it had been so long since you had seen Phillip and this had only made it worse, you wanted to soak up his presence and just talk to him. The exhaustion had consumed you making your eyelids feel like they weighed 20 pounds. You nodded and smiled as you laid your head down on Phillip’s lap, drifting to sleep as he brushed through your hair on the way home. 

“You saved me, Phil,” you mumbled half asleep 

“I’m just glad I got my girl back,” he bent down, placing a small kiss on your head, “I’ll wake you up when we get back, okay? Close your eyes, you’re safe now,”

“Mmhm, I love you Phillip thank you,”

“I love you too doll,”

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

thank you again to this anon, I loved writing this so so much!!

[heyidkyay]

I guess I'll take this pain, instead of your name

Part Eight

A/n: Just that I honestly love these two a whole lot x

Also- a change of pov in this one, so just a forewarning!

Summary: In life, things changed. The boys you'd once grown up with were men now, and famous ones at that. The type that toured the world and had millions of adoring fans.

The five of you shared a shit ton of history. But you also shared a lot of mixed emotions for one of them in particular, a certain drummer.

Warnings: Similar to the last chapter- mentions of trauma and some references to a serious but past event (not too much detail but still be mindful)

Masterlist

--

Ross’s face when I trailed into the pub just behind George was a right picture. Pint glass halfway to his lips as he stilled, shock freezing him in place. 

“Erm, alright Y/n?” He finally greeted me, flashing a look of apparent confusion over towards George who’d just headed straight on over to the bar without saying a word.

I grinned at the bearded weirdo, snatching up a seat and settling in. “Perfect, thanks! Everything is just perfect. We’ve worked it all out and at this rate, I figure G and I will be having a springtime wedding.”

Startlingly, Ross seemed rather chuffed by the idea. 

I stared back at him, gaping a tad. “I was being sarcastic, Ross.”

He pursed his lips at me, mumbling into the froth of his pint as he took a sip. “And you wonder why it all went to shit.”

In retort, I smacked him hard on the arm, catching him off guard which caused him to choke on the large swig he’d taken. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Y/n!”

I gave him a mocking grin in return, paired with a narrow eyed scowl. “And you wonder why people think you’re such a tit.” I snarked back, deepening my voice to imitate him.

Ross curled his lip up in retort, wiping down the front of his now beer soaked jumper just as George padded back on over. He frowned, taking in the scene as he handed me a rum and coke. I flashed him an appreciative smile and gave my thanks.

George simply waved me off though as he took the seat beside me, raising an eyebrow over at Ross. “What happened to you?”

“Ask your missus.” Was what Ross decided on, shooting me a half glare before he shucked off the jumper completely. 

I rolled my eyes at him, pleasantly sipping my drink and not paying any mind to the colour that now tinted George’s cheeks as he mumbled a quiet correction. 

Ross mimicked my first action, huffing out a put upon sigh, uncaring. “Whatever. You two gonna let me in on what happened then, or am I gonna have to work it out through a round of charades? I’m guessing that it must’ve went alright though if she ended up back here with you.”

“Lovely to see you too, Ross.” I dragged out, but he merely swatted away my sarky comment, his focus on George.

“You saw me last night and- oh, did you like your present by the way?”

Frowning, I tried to recall him or any of the others gifting me anything yesterday. I’d been quite adamant about the fact that I hadn’t wanted a thing. “What present?”

His forehead wrinkled and so he moved forward to pick up his pint again, sipping at it before a look of realisation dawned on his face. He was bobbing his head as it all flooded back to him. “Oh yeah, left it in the car. I remember now. Was meant to grab it before I left for Matty’s, but G was rushing me out the door.”

I blinked slowly, glancing between the two men. George was giving Ross a vengeful stare down, whilst the latter merely grinned over at me.

“You’ll have to come by and grab it soon.” He mentioned.

I shrugged, “Yeah, alright. We can watch a couple films, order something in. Make a proper day of it.”

Ross nodded his agreement and just like that I’d invited myself over to his and our previous spat was long forgotten.

The two of us had always been like that though. Out of all of the guys, Ross and I had always shared more of a sibling dynamic. He’d been the big brother I’d never asked for in a way. Looked out for me on nights out and made sure that no one messed with me when he was about, but we also bickered and fought like no one else I knew. We’d tussle and come to actual blows sometimes, then forget about it completely at the mention of food or after all the lingering anger had worn off. No apologies, no love lost. Just snap right back to normal again.

Because really, when push came to shove, Ross was someone I could always depend on. I’d call and he’d come running. And me, I’d do just about anything for him in return.

“Um.” George started then decidedly shook his head, not wanting to waste his time questioning us further. He should’ve been used to it by now though, so it was his own fault, really.

“Okay, so come on.” Ross prompted with a jerk of his chin, “Out with it. I want to know all the ins and outs. All the gory details. Did G cry like a baby? Did you kiss and make up? Was there any slapping of any sorts?”

“Why would there’ve been any slapping?” George asked him with a bewildered look, then proceeded to regret it. 

Ross cocked his head towards George, looking at him as though he thought he was stupid, then glanced back towards me from over the rim of his glass. “He says something daft. She slaps you. Pretty simple deduction, mate.”

“Why-”

But I cut the beginnings of George’s rambling questions short, unfazed by Ross on a whole.

“There was no slapping of any kind.” I informed the idiot, “There wasn’t much actual talking, in truth.”

Ross’s mouth pulled into a sly smirk, getting the complete wrong end of the stick there, before he proceeded to wag his eyebrows between the pair of us. I grimaced faintly, tilting my head in a way that said ‘really?’. He just opted for a grin.

“Not what I meant, you twat.”

The bearded giant actually looked a bit disheartened upon hearing that, but it was wiped hastily away when George cleared things up. “Actually, mate, we sort of ended up spotting Birdie’s mum.”

I peered down into the dark swirling liquid in my glass, suddenly finding it far more intriguing than the current topic at hand. But my interest was piqued not too soon after when I noted that Ross still had yet to utter a word, staying eerily silent.

When I chanced a glance back up, I found him looking more serious than I’d seen him in a very long time.

“What happened?” Was what he asked in the end, casting a long, hard glance over at George, who he knew would give him the God’s honest truth.

“Nothing.” I attempted to intervene with a scoff, “I didn’t even get the chance to speak to her.”

But it was a futile effort on my part and I should've known it. 

Growing up around a bunch of clingy lads often meant that you got tuned out whenever it came to any upset which involved you. They were fairly over-protective. Over-protective being the kindest way to put it. And whilst I typically loved the fact that they cared so much, it was tiring at the best of times. Take this as an example.

“George.” Ross then prompted with a no-nonsense air, and the man in question shot me an apologetic look before he turned to tell Ross exactly what had gone down. I huffed, realising it was a battle lost and slumped in my seat, forced to trump through it all over again. 

It was almost harder going through it the second time around, especially hearing it from George’s point of view. He made it seem so much bigger than it had been. When in reality, I’d just been severely caught off guard by seeing her. Which I granted to be a rather fair reaction in any case.

“So yeah, she ended up slipping out before we could really internalise the fact that she was there too.” George wrapped up and during the course of his long story, Ross’ face had only hardened. Any further and I figured he’d be made of stone.

“Good riddance, I reckon. Don’t know why you’d even want nowt to do with her after all the shit she put you through.” Ross scoffed unhappily, shaking his head as he lounged back further in his seat. But his words really rubbed me the wrong way.

“Well, that’s all good for you. Ain’t it? But you’re not the one who lived through it, so I think I’ll decide what’s best for me.” 

I necked the rest of my drink then, ignoring the blunt burning sensation that stung the back of my throat as I scrapped my chair across the floor and stood from my seat. 

“Headed to the loo." I mumbled, "Unless you want to dictate that too.”

—GEORGE’S POV—

George watched as she strode away, chewing harshly on the inside of his cheek. He should’ve just left it. Let Ross think that they’d talked somewhat and were on the mend. But he couldn’t. He was worried, and he supposed he had a right to be after that reaction. Still, his next breath was tinged with a smidge of regret. 

Ross’s voice is what drew him back to their table, his words still fuelled by his apparent irritation. 

In truth, George could understand his frustration, he really could, they’d all seen what it had done to her, they’d all had to watch on from the sidelines and allow it to play its course. Too young to do anything worthwhile, or to be heard by anyone who should’ve listened. And even now, after all these years, it was still so fucking hard having to watch her crumble at the very mention of it. To see the way she hardened so quickly in an attempt to not feel anymore hurt. But they couldn't be the jury here, they couldn't dictate her life for her. Because then they'd be just as bad as the rest of them.

“I’m right though.” Ross determined, scratching thoughtlessly at a fraying thread in his jeans. “She knows it deep down too, otherwise she wouldn’t be this pissy.”

George’s brow pinched as he tried to sympathise somewhat. “Yeah, but it must kill her, mate. I know it does me. You should’ve just seen her today. Never looked so small. Almost as bad as-”

“Don’t.” Ross cut him off before he could dredge up any old memories. One’s they all surely wished they could just burn and forget. “I know exactly what you’re about to say and I don’t want to hear it.”

“But that’s exactly why I’m saying it!" George implored, keeping his tone hushed even as he leant in a little closer, subconsciously fiddling with one of the table’s beermats. "We saw it, Ross. We were there, sure. But she fucking lived through it, mate. All of it.

“We don’t have a leg to stand on telling her how to feel about seeing her mum, or a right as to how she goes about handling it. That’s down to her. If she wants to ignore it, we’ll ignore it. If she wants to get stoned out of her mind and forget, then I’ll light the joint. But until she decides, we just have to wait.”

“But,” Ross hissed through clenched teeth, dragging an agitated hand across his face. “I just want to take it all away, you know? She’s… she doesn’t fucking deserve this crap! Never did.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” George retorted far too quickly, venom evident in his heated whisper, “I was there, man. I was the one she called! The one who held her, just the two of us alone, sat on that curb outside her house listening to the sirens as they grew louder and nearer.”

George stopped himself short, words now clogging up his throat. He sucked in a sharp breath, allowing his eyes to meet Ross’s for a moment. 

“She wouldn’t stop crying.” George choked out, saliva only thickening as a wave of nausea rolled through him at the sudden reminder. He'd blinked and it was almost like he was back there. “And me? I couldn’t do anything- say anything to make it better. I just had to be there. Me. I was the one who had to hold her hand, to whisper gently and calm her enough so that she’d let the paramedics near enough to get a good look at her, let alone touch. Me, Ross. She fell asleep in that hospital bed all those hours later, still tossing and turning, and I just remember walking silently into the bathroom and throwing up everything my stomach had to offer. Don't think I ate properly for days after that. And her? I couldn’t even imagine how she must’ve felt. Even now.”

The pub noise had since dimmed, it’d just become a frequent buzz in the background, like a fly trapped indoors. You just learned to tune it out until it was hardly there at all. 

George had to work on calming his breaths. Blinking back the wetness that had welled in his eyes and turning away slightly so that Ross could no longer see. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose before picking up his pint and taking a hefty gulp. Downing what little had remained.

It seemed like so much time passed before Ross finally spoke again.

“I’ve no right to put my two cents in. But I am sorry, mate. I didn’t realise just how much more of it you’d seen.” He inhaled quietly then, and George watched as he worked his jaw, gaze flitting over the other patrons briefly. “Listen, if you ever need to talk about it, or you know-”

With a hard glower, George cut him off, having just spotted Y/n making her way back over. Her hair tied up now, eyes red and glassy once again. He felt his heart break a little more each time he looked at her, but today, she was really going for the kill.

—

The wind outside the pub had just begun to pick up as we trudged our way outside. We’d stayed for another round, tried to talk about work and other things that were going on in our lives, but after the mention of my mum and my abrupt departure it had been a difficult task.

I rubbed at the back my arm as a chill danced past us, coming to a slow halt on the other side of the pub’s garden gate.

My mouth pulled up into a soft smile when Ross dragged me in for a long hug, me on my tiptoes whilst he crouched down so that I could comfortably rest my chin on his shoulder. He squeezed me tight, acting on the words he wouldn’t say. But I understood him all the same, and doubled my hold in turn, allowing my eyes to fall shut as I stole some of his heat.

“God, you’re like a furnace!” I giggled, and Ross chuckled into my ear as he moved to press a kiss to my cheek. It wasn’t typical Ross behaviour, not with me at least, but it wasn’t unusual. It’d occurred a couple of times over the years, but only whenever the situation had called for it. Still, I found myself smiling at the faint peck.

“Here if you need anything, remember that.” Ross murmured to me softly before he pulled away and casted me one of his cheeky grins. “And make sure you keep me in the loop too, alright? I want updates on this big makeup of yours.”

I raised a brow at him, having since parted, and glanced over towards George who was just shaking his head at the bassist in turn. “Why’re you so invested, MacDonald? Been betting on the pair of us?” I queried, sharing a knowing smile with George. 

“Only with Hann- he figures G will fuck up again. But I’m routing for you.”

I gave him a dirty look, wrinkling my nose and curling my lip on impulse. “That I’ll be the one to fuck it up?”

He snorted, amused. “That you’ll both stop being such dickheads and just get your shit together.”

Ross pivoted to embrace George then, clapping him heartily on the back, and the drummer shot a loaded look at me from over his shoulder that told me he was just as exhausted as I was. In the moment, we both deemed ourselves better off just letting it go and let Ross be, well Ross.

The two bandmates parted ways and Ross gave us another quick goodbye paired a flippant gesture in jest as he trailed backwards onto the street, starting his trek home. I waved and watched on as he drifted around a corner and disappeared from view, leaving George and I alone once more.

I figured it was probably about early evening now, round about the time the sun began to set, and was only proven correct when I glanced up at the sky to find a hazy whirl of colour pooling overhead. I found myself smiling at it, basking in the reminder that the day would soon end and a new would take its place. That no matter how bad things got, there was always a beginning and an end.

When I tore my eyes away, I found George just watching me- waiting, I supposed.

I stowed my hands away in the lining of my jacket to shield them from the nippy air and tilted my head up at him. “You headed home then?”

He stared back and gifted me a small smile, kicking off from the wall he’d propped himself against. “Not yet. Why, you got somewhere better to be?”

I chuckled, turning away from him for a split second when a wave of wind swarmed us, blowing some of the hair I’d thrown up in a bun earlier into my face. A hand reached out to tuck it behind my ear and out of my eyes before I could think to do it myself, and I swallowed thickly when the tips of George’s fingers gently caressed my cheek, trailing down to knock against the underneath of my chin. He was smirking down at me when I met his gaze again.

“So, have you?”

My mouth opened ajar as I blinked up at him, a little thrown. “Have I, what?”

That smirk of his only grew and he leant in closer. “Got somewhere better to be.”

I released the breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding onto and minutely shook my head. “Nowhere as of yet.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m starving.” George grinned, then rocked back to make his way down the cobbled path, leaving me to gaze after him. He pivoted on his heel to glance back at me and jerked his head, “You coming or what?”

I had to fight the bright smile which threatened to make itself known, dipping my head slightly to hide my face from view. Then promptly fell into a small jog so that I could catch up with his much longer legs.

Because when had I ever been able to turn George Daniel down?

Part nine>

[fetusharryluvr]

i’maceleb!universe disgusting derby

y/n struggles in a challenge, so harry helps her out!

“Harry, Mike, Y/N and Seann, you now have a chance to win more lucky balls. Please get ready to leave camp.”

The four of you made your way through the jungle, entering the Unfair Funfair. You gawked at the attractions around you - the Disgusting Derby, the Terrible Teacup, and Down to the Wire.

You were all first instructed towards the Disgusting Derby, where four helmets were set down ready for you. “What’s disgusting about it?” Seann questioned, picking up the blue one.

“That’s what concerns me, Seann.” Harry breathed out a laugh, positioning the goggles over his eyes.

By the looks of it, you had to stand under your designated colour, and then when the klaxon sounded, water would fill up the tube on the top of your helmet. Once it was as full as it could be, you’d run over to the derby table, and attempt to shoot the water at the bullseye in order to move your horse forward. Whoever’s horse was first to reach the finish line, would win a ball.

Sean was first up, looking terribly uncomfortable as the blue liquid came flooding out, drenching him. He slowly toddled over to the table, bending down to pour the water into the cup. “Ooh, Seann that’s too far!” You bit your lip as the poor man poured more onto the floor than he did into his cup. That didn’t stop him trying, though, picking up the water gun and aiming it at the bullseye.

“C’mon, you can shoot better than that!” Mike urged, “How did you ever get your missus pregnant?”

Harry was next to go. He wasted no time collecting the water, and making his way, rapidly, over to the derby table. He bent down and poured the water into the cup, nearly all of it going in. The three of you watched in awe as he aimed at the bullseye, shooting it in perfectly.

“Bloody hell, do you go out shooting?” Mike asked him.

“Now, that’s how you get a woman pregnant.” Seann joked, causing Harry to erupt into a pit of laughter.

“Oh, shit, it’s freezing!” You gasped as the water fell down on you. The others urged you to go, causing you to rush towards the table, and arch down slightly to pour the contents of your helmet into the cup. It was a lot more difficult than it looked. You couldn’t see what you were doing at all, you just had to rely on what the others were telling you.

You saw a splash out of the corner of your eye, meaning that you missed the cup slightly. “It’s alright, keep going.” Harry assured you.

Once you were done, you grabbed the water gun and aimed what little water you had at the bullseye. “You’ve got this, Y/N!” Seann called.

The other three continued to cheer you on, but there was no denying it - your aim was shit. Plus, it certainly didn’t help that you hardly had any water in your water gun. “Left a bit.” Mike instructed, “That’s it!”

You managed to get the water that you had into the target, moving your yellow horse forward just a couple of inches, not too far behind Seann’s.

Y/N INTERVIEW:

“It’s so difficult! It’s alot harder than it looks.”

After what felt like a lifetime, all four of you had managed to get your horses to the finish line. Harry finished first, closely followed by Mike. Then it was Seann, and then it was you.

“We absolutely stink.” You laughed as you all gathered around in a group hug after completing the challenge.

SEANN INTERVIEW:

“That was probably the biggest challenge, doing that.” The comedian deadpanned.

Finishing the challenge meant that you were able to collect a ball from the table. Drenched, you all waddled over, where they were all organised in different colours, with your faces poking out at the front. “Are we all gonna pick our own, then?” Mike asked, looking at you all before he picked one up.

“S’pose so.” Harry shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t think it matters which one we choose.”

Mike nodded his head in comprehension and reached his hand out, picking up a green ball from his section. Next was Seann, eagerly grabbing a blue one. Followed by you, rushing to grab the yellow one from behind the image of your head.

Last was Harry. Watching him intently, you expected him to pick out one of his own colour, but rather than red, he grabbed a yellow ball and held it between his fingers. You stood perplexed as he extended his arm out, handing you the ball of your colour.

“What are you doing?” You mumbled, furrowing your brow at the man infront of you.

“You’re starving, you’ve earned it.” The Styles man looked down at you, smiling sincerely.

You were quick to shake your head, “Harry, don’t be silly. Pick your own ball.”

“I don’t want my own.” He simply said. “Take it, it’s okay.”

You couldn’t let him risk his own chance at a decent meal for you, that wasn’t fair. “Harry…” You were still skeptical, but it was clear Harry wasn’t going to take no for an answer. You mouthed a quiet ‘thank you’ as he handed it to you, the smile prominent upon his lips.

HARRY BUSH TELEGRAPH:

“I didn’t mind not getting a ball.” He shrugged. “They’ll be other chances. I know how hungry Y/N is at the moment, she deserves it more than I do, so I was more than happy to give it to her.”

taglist: @reveriehs

[anemoiawithatouchofobsession]

EMERGENCYYYY

Ill give you a guess why I am so excited. Didn't spot it? Well... Aunty June is on radio star again!!!! MISSUS KANG JUNE!!! I AM ALIVE AGAIN!!!

I know her guesting is going to be overshadowed by Haewon and Yewon and their stories AND it's going to be the same old stories of Uncle Minsoo (which again I wish I got to hear more of her life and stories), but still! I LIVE for this woman like you don't get it. I literally live some of my fantasies through her and her family. Like, idek her older son Yoosung but he's my husband already because hes quite handsome and i want her as my MIL LMAO. Literally in a parasocial relationship with this woman. If one day I'm a lesbian or bi please trace it back to her ig

I understand why the ahjummas love her. I also love the fact that my algorithm is flooded with shorts and videos and all that. So, please, forgive me if you see me posting a lot of borderline stan content of her in the next few days