#thinking about doing another one with slag

[batsplat]

It's a thing I already knew but all your beautiful analysis really made obvious (to me) how much of a grudge holder vale is. That man is never letting it go he's gonna hold his grudges into his grave

you know, I do think this is an interesting issue, because I'm not sure this is true of all his grudges. just sticking here with the grudges he accumulated in his capacity as a competitor, rather than just his general approach to life or whatever... how you judge this will kinda depend on how you feel about the 'reconciliation' he's experienced with some of his rivals - and whether you read the whole thing as sincere or not. now, personally I reckon he still dislikes biaggi, but also you are allowed to just dislike people so I'll give him a pass for that. some of the others, I'm a little more convinced by the whole reconciliation schtick

let's get valentino's take:

interesting that he mentions those three together, isn't it? and like, he's still not messaging biaggi or inviting him to his home - "even with max" kind of tells you all you need to know - but the other two? they said some proper nasty things to each other over the years!! I mean, the casey rivalry, there's some remarks from both sides where quite frankly I think I would struggle just a touch to get over it

I don't know, obviously this could all be pr stuff, but I kind of feel like... y'know, why bother? it's 2022, you're retired, who gives a fuck? sure it's a good look to be all magnanimous, sure it can be a bit of a way of twisting in the knife to the guys left in the cold, but also, who would care if you don't play nice? I think especially with jorge, you surely don't need to do all that, inviting him to your home and dancing with him... (which, again, some of the spats those two had...) and with the casey rivalry, if there's one guy who's still hung up about what happened between the pair of them, it's obviously casey (speaking of blokes who can hold a grudge). maybe this is giving valentino too much credit, but personally I buy it's more or less sincere. there's nothing to really indicate he's still particularly bothered by any of their past disagreements - he's basically going for the 'all's fair in love and motorcycle racing' approach. he knows he was an asshole, he accepts they were assholes too, whatever, that's how these things work. he's generally a fan of drama in rivalries, unsurprisingly, and he was happy enough to contribute his fair share - but he does see it as fundamentally being part of the game

to point out the obvious, check out who he's left out: sete and marc. that's where he can't let go of the grudges... because it's not about the offence itself as much as it is about the betrayal. this is the thing with valentino, right, it's about what kind of bond you had with him. if you weren't his friend in the first place and then piss him off as a rival then, y'know, whatever. obviously he's going to be vicious in trying to get back at you, but also he's really not going to waste his time feeling too aggrieved by it. I mean, think about how all the bullshit between him and casey dropped off sharply post-2012... from valentino's end anyway. think about how jorge and valentino pretty quickly got on again whenever they weren't fighting for supremacy within yamaha. they weren't friends in the first place, then they were enemies for competitive reasons for a while there, then it's over and valentino is basically happy enough to call it bygones

but... if it's a certain kind of bond you had with him and then you wrong him... that little mental list of all his past grievances, all your past transgressions, that's where it comes in. that's where he ices you out. denies you any emotional warmth. ensures that any interaction going forward is conducted entirely on his terms. where even any public 'reconciliation' won't truly be sincere.... or, certainly he's not going to forget what happened. if something else happens... it's like you've always got the potential of triggering this lingering resentment, in a way, where all that past stuff is still primed and ready to be called upon. he certainly doesn't just let it go

or, as he puts it in his autobiography:

Biaggi and I never talk to each other. I mean, we've never had a real conversation, anything that's lasted more than the requisite time to insult each other or put each other down, in the nastiest way possible. In any case, I don't hate him. It's true, we've never been friends, but hatred is something different, and that's too serious a word to describe our relationship. Far too serious. No, we have a reciprocal antipathy. No doubt this is a result of what we do for a living and the fact that we both want to win every single time. And perhaps it's also a function of the fact that we have very different personalities and very different ways of seeing things. Still, I don't think this means we hate each other, as some journalists have written. I think I could feel hatred for someone, but only for someone far worse than anything Biaggi has done. For example, if I were betrayed by a friend, then, yes, I could hate him. But Biaggi will never betray my friendship for the simple reason that we are not, and never have been, friends. Our relationship is very clear: we compete on the track - outside the track, each goes his own way. You could say we detest each other cordially.

... I mean. he said it, not me. and given this book was first published in '05... biaggi can't betray his friendship because they were never friends... I'm not saying he's thinking about sete, but it has to at least be a possibility, right? he's talking about one rivalry here and refusing to even mention the other... and the one he's refusing to mention is the one where he was friends with the other bloke. I don't know, maybe that's reading too much into it! and anyway, even if this passage wasn't really about sete, it's obviously still revealing. "detest each other cordially" is essentially what he was doing with casey and jorge (or from his point of view in any case, not entirely sure they'd agree with that). the grudge comes when he feels let down by you... and then, yes, he'll never let it go

of course, he's willing to set aside his grievances for a while if there's sufficient motivation for him to do so. in 2009, when he had so definitively won that rivalry with sete, why bother kicking up a fuss? in 2016, quite frankly it was just too much, and it was getting to the point where it was obviously hurting him too. on the one hand there was the media furore that had been going on non-stop since sepang, on the other hand it was also hurting his own approach to racing. there's reports from the time how visibly aggrieved he still was in the first few races of the season, and it took until they got back to europe for him to... y'know, have fun again. it's not sustainable to be walking around with a constant dark cloud over your head and broadcasting burning resentment towards your two main rivals. certainly not for someone like valentino - he needs to be having fun! the slight rapprochement needed to happen, in a way, because otherwise those years would have been even worse for everyone involved. but that doesn't actually translate to forgetting any of those grudges. this is about convenience more than anything else

goes to show, really... most of the time he doesn't take these things personally. I talked about it a bit in this post, how maybe it's also something that changed over time for him: the question of whether he was willing to develop these kinds of bonds in the first place with competitors... because he does possess a certain level of self-awareness in terms of what these kinds of rivalries are like and what they do to interpersonal relationships. ideally, you don't want to be hurt by a friend like that, right? better not to have that kind of emotional attachment with your competitors in the first place. how unfortunate it'd be if all those years after sete the circumstances aligned for him to see a competitor as something like a friend again... because, after all, those are the only people who could betray him. those are the only people where he thinks he could truly hate them

[burnthybread]

do ye ever reflect on how stupid you were for people. i made you spicy honey fried halloumi bites for lunch and you couldnt acknowledge me after my friend passed

[d0youc0py]

Heyyy. This might b triggering so it’s okay if u don’t do it, but how would 141 + Konig react if reader was @ her friends house and got in the middle of an argument between friend + her bf and friends bf ended up hitting reader? (Kinda self indulgent 🫣)

“You always do this Simon!” You growled, shoving some clothes into an overnight bag.

“Do what?” He snapped back. He stood in the doorway, trying to slow his breathing. He was upset- more than upset, but he refused to loose his patience with you. “Just want to keep you safe kid.” He reminded.

“You’re trying to isolate me!” You shouted, making your way towards the bathroom. “Every time I try to do anything you always tell me it’s not safe- or that I shouldn’t trust this person. Newsflash Simon I have been able to survive on this earth without you.”

“I don’t like him.” He held strong. He wouldn’t compromise with you if he felt you were at risk. Your friend had invited you to spend the night at her house for a sleepover, and when you broke the news to Simon his first question was: ‘will that slag of hers be there?’ To be honest you hadn’t even thought about it. Why did it matter if he was there? You knew Simon trusted you but his constant distrust of other people was starting to wear on you.

“That doesn’t really matter Simon.” You sighed. You stood in front of him expectantly, waiting for him to move out of the frame. “Besides what evidence to you have against him?”

“He’s a strange man.” He responded.

“He’s not a stranger Simon. We’ve been on like three double dates with them.” You huffed, taking it upon yourself to push past him when he refused to move. He growled to himself, following you around the flat. Suddenly his hands gripped your hips pulling you back towards him. His neck bent down and you instinctually made room for his head by tilting yours to the side.

“Just stay home with me tonight, yeah?” The anger left your body at his soft words and the small kisses placed against your neck. “Or at least say you can’t spend the night. No reason for you to be away for that long.” You turned in his arms, placing a kiss against his chin.

“Simon I’ll be fine, yeah?” You murmured, causing another huff to escape him.

•••

That turned out to be a fat lie.

“Do you think Simon’s going to propose anytime soon?” She asked causing you to flush. “You two have been together for what, three, four years?”

“Just two.” You corrected politely. “I don’t know honestly, haven’t really thought about it much.”

“Such a lie.” She snickered, wiggling her brows at you. You rolled your eyes waving her off.

“Keep it down in there!” You both jumped at the sudden boom from the living room.

“Sorry Rick!” Your friend shouted, seemingly unbothered by his nasty tone. A pit formed in your stomach.

“He always talk to you like that?” You asked, keeping your voice down. She looked at you with a small smile.

“Just when I’m bothering him. Surely Simon snaps at you.” She explained. How could she not realize how out of touch her statement was.

“Not like that.” You said.

“What’s that suppose to mean?” You winced as Ricks voice rung out from behind you. How the hell were you suppose to get out of this one? “You comin into my house, filling my girls head with shite?” He snarled. You quickly stood up.

“No, course not.” You smiled, making your way towards the door.

“I’m good to her.” He huffed, following your footsteps. You nodded your head in agreement.

“I’m sure you are.” You offered a weak smile, peaking behind you to make sure you didn’t trip over any furniture. His arm darted out gripping yours, tugging you close to him.

“You’re sure?” He pressed. You were a quivering mess at this point. Fear and adrenaline being to much for your body to process.

“Rick!” Your friend yelled. He threw a harsh ‘shut up’ over his shoulder. Your mind raced trying to remember even just one technique Simon had showed you. You wished you had payed more attention, instead of just staring at his arms the whole time.

“You’re sure?” He growled again giving you a shake.

“Stop!” You shouted. It was met with a harsh smack to your face.

“I’ve got neighbors you little”- His words were cut off as Simon’s words finally rang through your head:

“When in doubt, aim for the balls or the throat.”

You decided the first one was the most viable option. It had caught him off guard enough to loosen his grip and it was all you needed, slamming the front door shut behind you. You had made it down the flight of stairs, your hands searching your pockets for your phone only to realize you had left it inside.

“Fuck.” You whimpered, trying to make heads or tails of where you were. You weren’t overly familiar with this area. But you were familiar with the fast approaching figure heading towards you. “Simon.” You gasped, hurdling yourself towards him. You didn’t know why he was here but you sure as shit weren’t complaining.

Even through your own shakes you could feel him tremble against you. You let out a sob as he tried to pull away from you.

“He touch you?” He growled, none of it’s malice towards you. Your cheek burned and you could only imagine the mark it had left.

“I want to go home.” You sputtered, burying your face in the safety of his shoulder. He swallowed down his anger to the best of his ability.

“Alright, sweetheart.” He murmured against your head. He carried you to the truck, buckling you up. He continued to let you cling to him until you had calmed, and the loudest thing between you two was his pounding heartbeat. “Tell me what happened, yeah?” He hummed, trying his hardest to fake some calmness.

“He grabbed my arm.” You whispered. His chest heaved. “And”- you cut yourself off. Taking a small breath you pulled away from him, his heated eyes quickly falling on the bruise already spreading over half your face. His face flushed, but he was able to hold in the burning of his body.

“Sweetheart.” He said slowly. He pressed his lips against your forehead. “Give me the apartment number.”

“1G.” You said, with surprisingly little hesitation. Whatever Simon was about to do, it was deserved.

When Simon came back he was shockingly clean, and shockingly poised. He tossed your overnight bag into the back seat and handed you your phone when he got into the drivers seat.

“Simon”- he cut you off by tangling both your hands with one of his, pulling out of the parking garage. You didn’t need to know. You didn’t need to know that he had broken down a door- and almost every bone in that man’s body. That he had been waiting outside the apartment building for the past three hours, stewing in his own protectiveness. Your friend wasn’t even mad. She didn’t bat an eye when Simon asked to use her bathroom to clean himself up a bit- not wanting that man’s blood anywhere near your precious body.

He brought your hands up pressing a kiss against your knuckles, pulling into the grocery store parking lot for a bag of frozen peas and ice cream.

He wasn’t suppose to be home yet. He had at least another week away- another week for your bruised face to heal. It had just began to look better, the harsh purple color fading to more of a greenish yellow color.

He opened the door, steadying himself for the only attack he actually enjoyed. Your pressing yourself as close to him as you could, tangling your limbs with any part of him, your lips suffocating any thought he had other than he was finally home with you. His stomach dropped when it never came, shutting to door behind him his bag thumping loud against the floor.

“Sweetheart?” His voice boomed, the worst running through his head. He reminded himself he wasn’t suppose to be home for another week and that you weren’t expecting him. Yet your car was in the driveway and there was still no sign of you.

“I’m here.” His shoulders relaxed, your voice melting his brain just right.

“Where are y”- he stopped himself. You were standing in front of him. The realization as to why you weren’t all over him right now crashing down on him harder than a bullet. You- his literal everything- adorned with a sickening brush on your cheek. The same cheek he would brush his beard against to make you laugh. The same cheek his fingers would stroke to self soothe when his brain was just too loud. The same cheek that would flush berry red when he mumbled certain things against you.

“I can explain.” You said quickly, allowing him to maneuver the two of you to the couch. You quickly found your designated spot on his lap, hoping your touch would cause the storm that was about to ensure lighten.

“I want a name.” His voice was calm. Too calm.

“It was an accident. Fell in the garden and hit myself on that big rock you keep telling me to look out for.”

He wasn’t buying it. His face stone cold, as his thumb traced over the healing brush gently.

“I’ll be good.” He assured. He couldn’t fathom why you wanted to protect this person. Must’ve been someone you knew. “Name, please.”

“John.” You whined, clawing at his shirt. He huffed and relaxed you against him, resting his cheek against the top of your head.

“You don’t want to tell me because you think I’ll overreact.” He couldn’t even blame you for that. The man would happily start a war over you. “I won’t touch ‘em, I promise.” He whispered. His hand rubbed up and down your back and you realized just how much you needed the comfort. His hand stopped at your neck, massaging the tense muscles. “Just need to know who hurt my love, hmm?”

“Promise you won’t hurt anyone?” You insisted using his chest to cover up a yawn. He hummed, nodding his head.

“Rick. Remember Kelsey’s boyfriend? I went over to her house and he showed up drunk yelling at her about some fight they had earlier. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut and before I knew it he hit me.” You explained. The normally comfortable body under you had turned ridged, his heartbeat drumming against your ear. “John?”

“That wasn’t so hard was it?” He chuckled slowly against your temple. “Did you”-

“Put a frozen steak on it? Yeah.”

“I’m sorry that happened darling.” He sighed. His large hands gripped your sides pulling you away from him just for a moment. “If something like that ever happens again you call me, understand?” His eyebrow rose to show his seriousness.

“Yes sir.” You swore a small smile on your lips.

He had kept his promise- he didn’t hurt anyone. But he couldn’t allow someone who hurt you live a comfortable life. It would go against his oath to you if he did.

And besides, someone has to make the enemy afraid of the dark.

He should’ve know better than to leave you alone. He thought that for just one moment while he went to the bathroom it would be safe. You had been tucked under his arm the whole evening, so everyone knew who you were there with. It was his fault for assuming his physique was enough to keep any unwanted advancements away. Time slowed as he came out of the bathroom, his trained eyes spotting you right where he had left you, except you were on the floor. Tears streaming down that perfect face of yours, your own hand cupping your cheek. He didn’t even need to see your best friend pulling at her boyfriends arm in shock- or the way his green eyes stared at his own hand like it had just appeared out of thin air to know what had happened.

Johnny was by your side in an instant, pulling your hazy body to its feet. He’d experienced this before on the field. Everything moving in slow motion- hyper focusing on the important things. Right now it was you.

“Mac.” You gasped, your fingers curling into his shirt sleeve. Like a shockwave he was pulled back into real time. The loud chatter of the bar. The smell of cigarettes and stale beer. The fear rolling off of you. It made his blood boil. He turned to look at Rick his mind going into autopilot. His hand shot out grabbing him by the shirt collar on flinging him backwards. The bar went dead silent the only sound was Ricks body slamming into the wall of liquor bottles behind the bar. Johnny took a few steps forward wanting to finish what he had just started. That wasn’t enough of a punishment. He wouldn’t be happy till he was unrecognizable. “Jo.” Your pleading voice snapped him out of it once more.

In that moment he realized how selfish he was. You were scared and needed assurance, not seeing your husband nearly kill someone. He wrapped a sturdy arm around you guiding you out of the disheveled bar. The cold felt good against your heated bodies.

“I don’t know what happened.” You sputtered, letting the Scot support your body weight. “Camilla was making a joke about how angry Rick gets when she folds his laundry wrong and I made a joke about how she still does his laundry and then he”-

You couldn’t even get through the story.

“Let me see.” Johnny hushed, gently removing your hand from your face. He leaned forward pressing a light kiss against the throbbing flesh. “How bad does it hurt?”

“Six out of ten.” You responded, nuzzling your way back into his strong chest. All you wanted was to be home in bed in the safety of his arms. The smell of pine tickled your brain enough for the tears to stop.

“Should go back there and”-

“No.” You huffed.

“That number is too damn high for me to let him off easy.”

“Easy? You threw the man across the room with one hand.” You reminded.

“Should make it so he only has one hand.”

“Johnny.” The use of his full name stopped the unintelligible Scottish rambling that was sure to ensue. “Can we go home please?”

“Hey sweetheart, need me to come pick you up?” Kyle spoke into the phone that was resting between his shoulder and his cheek. When you sniffled into the phone he didn’t even bother to pause his game, his fingers gripping the device in his hand.

“Ky.” You mumbled. You mumbled in that specific tone that cracked his heart in such a wince worthy way. “I need help.” His blood ran cold.

“Stay on the phone with me, yeah.” He demanded, shoving his feet into a pair of shoes. “What happened?” The sound of his car starting settled you a little bit. “You still at your friends house?”

“No, I’m down the street, by the library.” You sniffed. “He hit me, Ky.”

A sound let Kyles throat- a mix of a growl and a whine. His foot pressed even harder against the accelerator, running straight through a red light. His body was shaking, adrenaline heightening his senses. He wished the two of you didn’t live in such a big city with so much fucking traffic.

“Who’s he?” Kyle snarled.

“Jess’s boyfriend.” You emphasized. “They got into a stupid fight about which Pizza to order for lunch and all I did was fucking agree with her.”

He felt sick. He’d seen a lot of gruesome shit in his life, but the thought of someone hurting you took the cake. He could imagine how scared you were- how scared you are. He can see the tears welling up in your eyes and he imagined your heart rate was about the same as his right now. He can imagine you scrambling to find a way out of there- away from the danger.

“After this we’re practicing those damn self dense moves.” He gritted. You mumbled an ‘okay’ before seeing a familiar sleek, black car pull up next to you.

“How’d you get here so fast?” You questioned, hanging up the phone as he got out of the car.

“Let me see.” He insisted, pressing the back of his palm against your heated cheek. You winced, shying away. “Let’s go get you some ice.” He said mostly to himself. He rested a hand on the back of your neck guiding you to the passenger side.

He kept his hand in your lap the whole drive to the grocery store. “What pizza did he want?”

“Pepperoni with mushrooms.” You replied. The rest of the ride was silent, Kyle went into the store without you.

“Hold this against your face.” He pressed a bag of frozen peas to your cheek. He unwrapped your favorite candy bar, placing it in your lap. Even with your swollen face you couldn’t stop a smile. “I need to make a quick stop before we go home.” His eyes flickered over to you, the same flash of anger striking through him as he took your appearance in. You didn’t think anything of it till he turned down your friends street.

“Kyle.” You mumbled. The last thing you wanted to do was be back here.

“I know baby, I know.” He tried his best to soothe, but he was so riled up. He needed to get this out of his system. Besides he couldn’t just let people hurt you and get away with it. “Stay here, I’ll only be a second.” He closed the door behind him, grabbing a frozen pizza that you didn’t even know he got out of the backseat. You watched anxiously as he made his way up the driveway ringing the doorbell.

The door opened to reveal Rick and Kyle wasted absolutely no time shoving the frozen pizza in his face. The strength of it sent Rick flying backwards and Kyle took the upmost pleasure in the loud crack of his nose breaking.

“Traffic is bad mein Herz. I’m going to be a little late.” You huffed at his words.

“Drive safe I’ll see you soon.”

“He running late?” Your friend questioned as you made your way back into the kitchen.

“Yeah, should be here soon though.” She smiled, taking dinner out of the oven. “Help me set up?” She asked over her shoulder, making her way to the dinning room. You began grabbing the silverware out of the drawer.

“No, Konig?” Rick asked, sitting down at the kitchen island. You shook your head.

“He’ll be here soon.” You assured.

“That’s too bad.” His hand landing on your hip followed his slimy words.

“What are you doing?” You spat, backing away. He shushed you.

“Keep you’re voice down. Don’t want her to find us out, yeah?” He said, nodding his head towards the dinning room.

“There is nothing to find out!” You must’ve said it too loud, because Ricks hand flung forward connecting with your cheek. You dropped the spoons in your hand, then clattering loudly on the floor. You didn’t even have time to feel scared, catching sight of the colossal figure in the doorway.

Rick followed your gaze and it was almost laugh worthy at how quickly he lost all confidence.

“Schatz?” Konig held out his car keys to you. “Wait in the car, please.”

Gentle blue eyes watched you, almost chuckling at the way you skipped over to him. Konig reveled in the way you trusted him. Trusted him to take care of you- to protect you. Later he would wrap you up in his arms and hold a bag of ice to your face, but right now he had other things to deal with.

“And turn the music up. It might get loud in here.”

[pinkslaystation]

No longer a memory [Simon 'Ghost' Riley]

You are reading: [Part 2] Read [Part 1] here! Word Count: 1.4k You viewed Simon as your friend, but clearly he did feel the same.

When Ghost was asked about his emergency contact, he mentioned Soap's name.

"You can't put down another soldier, mate. Gotta be yer ma or summit." His higher-ups informed him.

"Why no'?" He grumbled, leaning against the wall in the dingy office.

"Wot if you're on a mission with 'im? Wot if he's injured too? Hm? Just do me a favour and put down yer missus, will ya."

Ghost rolled his eyes in annoyance, slamming the door shut as he walked out. With an important mission coming soon, it was vital that everything was in order before they left.

He just doesn't get it. Why does a skilled killer like him need an emergency contact? He's only been fatally injured once, and when they contacted his previous emergency number back then, was it really a big deal with someone at the nearest Maccies picked up?

Gaz frequently laughs at him, "Tried to call your mother, ordered a quarter pounder instead." It's a running joke in the team.

Ghost skims through his phone contacts, and he's embarrassed to see how few numbers he has: 5 being his teammates including Gaz, Soap and Price, one being KFC, one being his mother which he had saved under Slag. He scrolls up and down rapidly, debating to himself, should he just give them a fake number?

No...they'd find out again.

He clicks under the spam numbers.

His eyes shift to a familiar number.

It was yours.

The monotonous ticking of the clock paired with the irregular typing of the keyboards were burnt into your brain unknowingly. You've lost count of the number of days you've been in the menial job now, your first job since graduating university. How long have you been with that company, 2 years? 602 days now? You're counting the days 'til the weekend but even during that, you've got no one to come home to.

What a pathetic life.

Sometimes you wonder what Simon was doing in that exact moment was he working like you? Was he also in London? Did he...think of you, the way you think of him? It's possible he's forgotten, I mean after 5 years you've lost contact with the majority of your classmates- so much for best friends for life.

You check your phone, 9:28 P.M. 2 more minutes and you're running out of there.

By the time it hits 11 P.M., you're tucked away in bed a movie playing the background as you're aimlessly listening to reddit stories on TikTok whilst watching a minecraft speedrun.

You switch to using Instagram, by that I mean stalking. Your friends seems to be growth further away from you, one sending you an e-invite to their wedding, one welcoming their 1st child into their families, and yet you're still hung over about the last day of secondary school. The way the last time you had seen him had been in form, when he glances at you walking in late. The way his hands would purposely linger against yours when you were asked to hand out sheets to the class.

The mere thought of him jolted you. That, and the sound of your phone ringing.

It was an unknown number.

There's a hitch in your breathing. Was this a sign? What's the phrase, speak of the devil and he has appear? Was it perhaps...Simon?

You wait for a minute before picking up, not wanting to come across as desperate.

"...Hello?" You murmur.

"Hey." The voice is harsh and cold. It reminded you of Simon.

"Simon?" You whisper, a smile appearing on your face.

There's a pause on the other end of the line.

"What? No- Alan. From Accounting. You left some documents here at work, they seem important. You gonna pick 'em up?"

You blink. Once again your're stuck in another fantasy. In what world would it be Simon? The man who couldn't even reply to your texts in summer holidays. The man who wouldn't even attempt to return a full smile when you locked eyes in the corridor. The man you shouldn't have feelings for. Because, well, it's not like they were ever reciprocated.

What a pathetic life.

Alan, the dickhead from Accounting interrupts yet again. "Yo, you there? Wan' me to bin them?"

You sit up in your bed, sighing deeply uncomfortable, "Pull up your pants man, I'll be there in 30, Jesus. Just leave them on my desk."

Question. What's short but intense, most people dislike it, but you find it thrilling? One would think a conversation with Simon. But the answer is: London traffic.

You'd assume the usually busy roads to be dead and empty at 11:30 P.M. ish, but you're heavily mistaken, my friend. Seems like London nights are the life of the party. Driving past busy clubs and lit up pubs, whilst listening to One Of The Girls by The Weeknd [SUCH A GOOD SONG-] made you feel like a movie star in a coming of age film.

One where the guy gets the girl.

Of course, the majority of the drive you've being beeped at, or you're doing the beeping, but it's what really appealed to you when making the move to the heart of London. Life moves on whether you want or not, might at well be at the capital of England. Though sometimes you feel you're more likely to run into Simon in the north...

By the time you reach the entrance of your workplace, you begin regretting your outfit decisions, making eye contact with yourself in the reflection of the glass doors: A black hoodie and flared joggers. Nothing wrong in the clothing of course, but compared to the Data Analysts and Investment Bankers that are judging you right now, it makes you feel like the smallest person in the room.

Just a elevator ride up, grabbing your shit, another ride down, brisk walking to the car, and you can go back to the comfort of your bed. Easy, no?

You're in the elevator finally. The weird look from the receptionist really was the cherry on the cake.

Soon enough, the doors open again at the 9th floor, and you're met with the dark room of your department, which only had 2 of your colleagues slaving away at their desks, one which you're 99% sure is rotting away as they type on their keyboard.

You briefly nod at the two as they look up from the elevator doors opening, to which they returned.

Where's that file, where's the fucking file. You mumble to yourself, sifting through all the papers from your desk. The rotting lady looks up to you, shushing you for the noise.

Yeah, if only you had the courage to shush your toxic-ass husband...You think. Soon we'll hear your reddit story next to some trashy ass run on Subway Surfers on Tiktok...

The way down the elevator was excruciatingly slow, which was odd considering it was working perfectly fine 5 minutes ago.

The doors open again, at the 8th floor and 3 analysts walk into the once quiet elevator, and now you're face to face with the loud chatter of clients, and business meetings and...who left a mess in the men's toilets...

A phone rings again, and the analysts all search their coats, thinking it was theirs.

Not me.

Neither.

How is there service in this elavator-

Someone coughs, and you open your eyes from drowsiness, the 3 business musketeers silently urging you to pick up your from and rid them off that irritating ring tone.

Silently apologising, you bring your phone out of your hoodie pocket. It's another unknown number.

With no hesitation this time, just pure frustration and fatigue, you pick up the call, "Alan, I swear to God, if you're calling me again-"

Correction. There is service in the elevator. It just wasn't good.

The line breaks at the other person on the phone speaks.

"He- Co- It's an emergen- He- -mon Ril- -jury-"

"Huh?" You respond, partially not hearing as the line breaks every now and then. but also because the other 3 people decided it was okay to talk on full volume.

You try once again, "I'm sorry I can't hear you."

"Missi- crash- 3 dead- -husba"

You snort, you wish these 3 analysts were dead right now-

"-Rile- Come- t- -ocation- sen- -by text- -sband-"

The line goes dead, and you're stuck staring at your phone with more confusion than you had started. Husband?

What was that? Wrong number? No, they had addressed you by your full name. You couldn't hear much, but from what you gathered...an emergency? I mean, that alone you could tell from the shrill from the speaker's voice.

The elevator door opens again and this time, it's the ground floor and all 4 of you walk out. It looks like the scene where the rich, popular characters make a grand entrance, straight out of a K-drama, except one person clearly missed the memo about dressing formally.

You check your phone's call log, debating whether to call them back.

Before you can lock your phone and shove it back into your phone, it dings again, a text from the very number. They've given you a location. A quick search on your phone, shows you google images of an army training ground. You check the time. It's just past midnight.

Looks like you're going on an adventure.

The drive to the army grounds was shorter than Google Maps had said, and now you're parked on the side of the roads waiting for the gates to be opened.

Theories are racing through your head right now, who do you know that's in the military currently?

Your coworkers? No.

Your university friends? No.

Your secondary school classmates? No.

Simon? Can't be.

The gates open, and you drive to the 2 men standing by the doors to the building, one is dressed like a doctor, the other? Like Stalin.

You get out of your car worried, "Hi, someone called over the phone?"

"Aah, yes. Mrs Riley. A pleasure to meet you. I mean I didn't think you were even going to come." He turns to the doctor.

You don't fail to hear the words exchanged between the both of them.

"What if she works at Maccies as well...she's dressed like it-" he murmurs, smiling at you widely.

The doctor on the other hand, seems to be more tense about the situation, "Sir, can we just send her in already, it's 1 A.M., I got a family to go home to-"

"Wasn't your wife cheating on you though-"

"Sir- How do you know- Okay, Miss. Mrs... Riley, was it?" The doctor turns to you.

You raise an eyebrow at him, "No. Um, no. My first name's not Riley, it's-"

"Will you just follow us. Please."

The inside of the building was almost the opposite than the outside, a loud brightly lit environment with crowds of doctors and nurses rushing around, compared to the silent dark grounds.

"Sorry, where are we going exactly?" You question, as the two men walk in front of you.

"You're handling the news better than I expected, Riley." The military leader (?) notes.

What news?

"What news?"

There's no follow up answer, instead they lead you to a quiet corridor, just outside a room, to which they gesture you to open. The doctor reads from a file, "He's going to be fine, just a few cuts and bruises-"

You interrupt, "I'm sorry?"

"What he's trying to say- we found him unconscious, seems like he inhaled too much of the gas. Thought he was in grave danger. Wasn't responding to anything. Broken rib cage, but he'll be fine. He always is, this man."

The doctor agrees with the solider.

"Indeed, a few months of bed rest, and he's be back in better shape."

The two stare at you, as you look at them with an unreadable expression.

"...And...I'm here because?"

They share a confused look.

"You're his wife, no? His emergency contact? That's what Simon said at le-"

"Si-Si-Simon?"

One second you're at home, the next you're a work again, and now you're in the bathroom with your head in your hands, sitting on the toilet lid, panic pulsating through your blood. For some reason, you can't find it in yourself to tell the truth, that you're not Simon's wife, so instead you pussied out and excused yourself to the nearest bathroom.

The good thing is, the 2 men believe you're crying over Simon's injuries, the bad thing is that he's awake. And he's been made aware of the call to his emergency contact: his wife.

"Good to say you mate. Called your wife. Sensitive one, that. Rushed-"

Simon breaks out of his dazed look. "Wife?" He barks.

The doctor shares a knowingly glance to the solider, Simon's higher up. "Yes...the one under your emergency contact?"

"Wot- Oh. Er- Yeah." Simon clenches his jaw, rubbing his temple, "Did she pick up or sum-"

"No Simon, she's here. In the bathroom."

The minimal colour in Simon's pale bruised face drains out in a click, and he's staring dead straight in front of him. For a second, no one talks, there's no movement, not even a breath is exhaled. Simon's not religious but he prays the 2 can't hear his beating heart thumping rapidly.

How was do when he sees you? A smile? A wave? A 'haven't seen you in so long'? No...he selected spouse when he put your number down for his emergency contact, if anything, he's got a role to act in front of the staff and higher-ups.

There's a knock on the door that breaks the silence. The door creaks open awkwardly, and a small head peeps out.

Simon's breath hitches.

When your parents instructed you to get out fairy land, you did. You were called delusion by your friends throughout adolescence, and you're teachers feared your expectations in life were always too high.

You remember the first time your parents told you the story of how they met. In your mind it was a romantic story, two doctors meeting together for the first time in the hospital, locking eyes and blushing furiously when their fingers touched through gloved during a high-risk heart transplant surgery. So when they mentioned that it was mere 'marriage of convenience' type relationship to you, your belief of love at first sight hit the iceberg of reality and sunk. Sunk deep.

So mustering the courage shouldn't be that difficult, right? Love doesn't exist...

The first step into the hospital room felt like walking into every exam hall you've ever entered in your entire life merged into 1...times 10. Nerve-wracking was an understatement.

Your goal was to just lie and act at his wife, play pretend and hope Simon plays along with it. It's all acting.

A marriage of convenience, you could say.

"Hey, Si-"

Your breath breaks, cutting off your own words as your eyes lock with Simon's. The room seems to shrink, and the bustling noise from the hospital corridor fades into the background. Simon's gaze is intense, his usual stoic expression softening for a brief moment. It's something the doctor and the soldier haven't seen, given the 5 years of knowing SImon.

He reaches an arm out, without speaking a word.

"Oh, erm." Taking his hand, he gently drags you, motioning you to sit on the chair beside his bed. Small electric shocks course through his fingertips and into yours, a warm feeling bubbling through your chest, and you can't help but smile at the way his eyes lock onto you, as his fingers gently caress your hand.

Simon’s grip tightens ever so slightly as you sit down, his touch simultaneously reassuring and questioning. You swallow hard, nerves prickling your skin. It feels like a minute has passes by the 2 spectators in the room feel like their watching a slow-burn romance movie.

The soldier clears his throat, breaking the silence. "We’ll give you two some privacy," he says, gesturing for the doctor to follow him out. As the door clicks shut behind them, the heavy silence continues to fall over the room.

Simon’s thumb strokes the back of your hand, a gesture that feels both foreign and familiar. His mask of stoicism cracks, revealing a hint of vulnerability beneath. "I didn’t think you’d come," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. Your heart rate increases with every word he speaks, the hints of his northern accent peaking through the harshness of his voice.

You smile. "Well, here I am," you reply, attempting to sound casual despite the thundering of your heart. "Guess I couldn't ignore the call of duty." Your attempt of a pathetic joke makes him grin.

Simon interlocks his fingers with yours, and you swear your body changes to manual breathing. "SImon...You don't have to act, they're not here..." You mumble.

Simon chuckles softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. His eyes, usually so guarded, now seem to search yours for something unspoken. "I'm not acting... and...I'm sorry," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What for?" Both of your hands gently hold Simon's and you notice the way just one of his hands dwarf both of yours.

"That day...the last day. I tried to come, I swear, love. I was late-"

"I waited for you Simon." You blankly state. Simon freezes at the slight frustration in your voice, "I waited so long for you, hell, the teachers nearly kicked me out."

Simon nodding understandably, grinning slightly at the thought.

"I know. I asked our form tutor, missed ya by 15 minut-"

"Then why didn't you call me Simon? Hm?"

The lack of response let's you continue, the heat from your hands warming Simon's.

"I called you, I texted, I reached out to your friends-"

"-but it's difficult when I had none, right?" Simon cuts you off, his eyes urging you to look at the situation from his perspective, "The moment I saw you in that classroom on that first day, you were the only person that smiled at me. When I forgot my lunch, it was you that shared with me by your desks. Fuck, it's always been you, and I was too fucking embarrassed with myself to even be around someone as perfect as you."

Simon squeezes your hand as he continues.

"I didn't want you to be seen with me, because...you deserved better, love. You've always had. Good grades, good school, good life, didn't was you to be dragged down by a dick like me." He huffs out, turning away, "Signed up for the military that day, y'know. Remember when you said you wanted to just give up on your dreams of uni and jus' join the army. Just use all your frustrations on a gun or sumthing... I bulked up over that very summer."

You stifle a warm tear as it escapes and runs down your cheek.

"Wanted to be someone for you, swear down. So I signed up for the military...and I- that day. I was going to tell you...and ask you out."

Raising your eyebrows, you feel the atmosphere shifting, he continues.

"Yeah," Simon chuckles, reminiscing, "Wrote a letter cos I didn' know how to get my feelins across. But uh, I was too late. And when I asked your friend, and they told me you were moving out for uni...I just thought it was better to let my feelins die out. Didn't wan to drag you down any further..." He mumbles the last part.

A mix of emotions flood through you as Simon's words settle in the room. The weight of the years apart, the misunderstandings, and the unspoken feelings hang in the air. You take a deep breath, wiping away the tear that escaped earlier.

"Simon," you begin softly, your voice trembling with a blend of sadness and hope. "You never dragged me down. If anything, I felt lost without you."

Simon's gaze shifts back to you, eyes searching for any hint of resentment or anger. Instead, he finds warmth and understanding, a look he's not seen in years. "I thought you'd be better off without me. That you'd move on and find someone who could give you everything I couldn't."

"But I never wanted someone else," you confess, your voice firm despite the quiver in your heart. "I wanted you, Simon. Even when you weren't there, I kept hoping you'd come back. Do you know how many times I've looked at my phone hoping it was you that was calling me?"

Simon laughs, moving ever so slightly closer to you, his thumb continuing to stroke your hand, his touch grounding you both in the present moment. He takes a deep breath, seemingly trying to gather his thoughts.

"I'm here now," he says finally, his voice steady. "And I'll call you ever chance I get. Don't want to waste any more time."

You squeeze his hand in response, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Neither do I."

Simon presses a chaste kiss against your forehead and you lean against him.

"The name Riley really does suit you, y'know." Simon whispering into your hair.

"One step at a time, Si." You whisper back, burying your smirk into the crook of his neck.

Maybe your parents were wrong, maybe love at first sight does exist.

Outside the room, the 2 men straight in awe at the couple. The doctor sighs, "No more trouble in paradis-"

The solider nudges the doctor, "You wish that was you, huh."

me rn

tags -> @lilliumrorum, @kxtz3, @poohkie90, @rainlovesyou12, @restrictionsapply-blog, @lunamoonbby, @nigthmar3moon, @thychuvaluswife, @itsnourm, @bubusi11, @chessecakelover, @owkittie, @cheomain, @corvusmorte, @k4es, @mandythemint , @copiasratscheese, @yyiikes, @funkyysho3es, @delta98-idk, @spankmydepression, @yourfavbabigirl

[berryz-writes]

You're mine, sweetheart

Summary: Theo cheers you up after a shit day

Theodore Nott x reader

Pansy looked me up and down, hate simmering in her eyes. She scoffed "Don't tell me that's what your wearing. You look like an absolute slag"

After being best friends with her for our first few years and realising how toxic she really was I had tried to keep my distance from her but she didn't get the hint and instead liked to comment on each and every thing I did. Of course the comments hurt me but maybe after the years they just didn't hurt as much. Maybe I was immune now. The dress I had chosen for this nights party was a short green dress, something to celebrate our Quidditch win but of course the dress didn't live up to her expectations. What was really annoying was she wore a similar dress just a few weeks back but according to her I was the one who looked like a slag.

"I think it looks nice Pansy"

I turned to my mirror and applied a light pink lip gloss that was almost finished because of the amount of times I had used it. I couldn't be bothered arguing with her tonight. I wasn't about to let her ruin my mood.

"I bet you tried finding the shortest dress in that store"

I rolled my eyes "What are you on about?" I was getting tired of her stupid, annoying comments.

"You know exactly what I'm on about. Don't think Theo's gonna fuck you after this, honey. Your just like all the other desperate bitches at the party"

I gritted my teeth together and put my lip gloss down trying to appear as unaffected as I could. "Fuck off. Jealousy isn't a good look on you"

I walked past her, tears forming in my eyes. Before I could leave she made sure to mutter "Once a whore, always a whore". I let my feet carry me outside to the warm summer evening where the sun was setting. I walked around the lake trying to blink away the tears so my makeup wouldn't be ruined. Was there any point of going to the party? No, probably not.

I sat down on hill, the freshly mowed grass making a soft carpet for me to relax on. Me and Theo had sat hear many times before whether it was to have a late night snack or to miss lessons. It was a comforting place.

I sat there until the sun set and soon it got darker. Almost too dark. My thoughts had cleared now. My tears no longer trying to make an appearance. Maybe I could join the party. Just because one person was being an ass didn't mean everyone else would be.

As I was contemplating on whether I should stand up or not someone cleared their throat behind me. I raised my wand instantly expecting...well something scary I guess.

It was in fact Theo holding a small golden lantern. I didn't bother standing up and instead waited for him to flop down next to me.

"My favourite person isn't going to congratulate me on my performance today?" He placed the lantern between us so we were both bathed in a warm orange light. I could just about make him out, his features looking almost worried.

"You were good." I said. I didn't have the social battery to talk to him right now even if he had done nothing wrong.

He smiled at me "I know. What's up with you? Your usually dragging me to parties but instead your...well from my point of view it looks like your mourning your rabbit"

I let out a small laugh. Even at times like these he could make me laugh. "I just don't understand. Why is it so hard for some people to be nice?"

Theo shrugged "They're probably insecure. Or jealous."

"Yeah. Probably"

We sat in silence for another few minutes before Theo stood up stretching out his hand to me "Come on, sweetheart. Your the life of the party. It's no fun without you"

I stood up and handed him the lantern instead "You can be the life of the party tonight. I'm tired"

"Don't let someone ruin what you want to do. Y/n you love parties. You've never missed one. Unless you really are tired, I'll respect your decision and walk with you to your room"

I contemplated my options. I could do what I really wanted to do which was go to the party and enjoy life with my friends or I could get cosy in my bed and feel like a coward for the next week. He was right. No one got to influence what I wanted to do.

"Your playing truth or drink with me then"

He grinned at me "Whatever you want, sweetheart"

As we walked back inside the castle from a more hidden entrance Theo made sure to hold my hand because apparently he "didn't want me to trip and get hurt". Whatever the reason was it didn't stop butterflies from forming in my stomach.

I had to blink at the sudden brightness of the corridors, the light finally letting me see Theo clearly. He had dropped my hand and instead was surveying me.

Theo's eyes took their time on inspecting my outfit, hungrily devouring the way the dress emphasised my curves. He finally brought his gaze up to look at me, his eyes slightly darker than usual "You look absolutely divine"

I smiled at the compliment "If you weren't my best friend, I'd say you were flirting with me"

He raised an eyebrow "Maybe I am. It's quite hard not to when my best friend is so fucking gorgeous" My cheeks heated at his words, my dress feeling a little too tight all of a sudden. I think I needed to sit down after that.

He extended his arm so I could wrap my hand around it. "I can't wait to tell everyone we're dating"

I paused. What did he say? "If that's ok with you" He added hastily.

I thought about what he said. Had I always imagined what it would be like if Theo asked me out and we weren't just best friends anymore? Of course I did. Every single second of every single day.

"That's fine with me"

He smiled again, a small dimple appearing in his left cheek "Then it's settled. Your mine, sweetheart. And I'm yours" 

[mrsparrasblog]

You're Losing Me Pt.3 POLY 141 x Reader

TW: angst, mentioned rape, mentioned drug abuse, violence, alcoholism, crying, manipulation

prev part first part. next part

Wrapped around with a blanket, you lay on the couch singing all the breakup songs you know, pathetically. You didn't talk to your friends, called in sick at work, and haven't left the apartment since it happened. The only thing you had was Winston, the Taylor Swift vinyl on repeat that Johnny gifted you, and a cheap red wine that tasted like ass. You ordered some pizza so that something else keeps you company. When the bell rang, you didn't bother to put on a nice outfit. You went out with your tangled hair, your puffy swollen eyes, and Simon's ratty t-shirt that you couldn’t bother to throw away; it just smelled like comfort to you.

You were surprised when you saw, instead of the delivery guy, Kyle in front of your house. He looked so unlike Kyle. He didn't have that cheeky smile you loved, and his clean pretty boy aesthetic was gone. His white shirt was full of blood, his jaw bruised, and your heart broke. That was your man - was.

"Do you want to collect your stuff?" You asked, it hurt you so bad to ask, but you needed to be strong. You didn't want to be like your mom who stayed with your Dad despite how often he cheated on her. You were strong and independent before you met them, you can reach this again.

"Babe, please."

"Don't do this to me, Kyle," don't make me love you, don’t make me forgive you.

"Can I see at least Winston?" He asked, and that was a thing you couldn't deny. It was his dog too after all. You remembered how you rescued him together from a dog shelter. Everyone else would have said no, but Kyle loved animals just as much as you do. So you adopted that corgi, and you can regret many things but not your loyal dog.

"Come in," you said, not bothering to apologize for the mess.

When Winston saw him, he jumped immediately on Kyle, and this made you smile for the first time in days. "What happened to your face?"

"Got in some fights around the base."

"Kyle, you never get into fights with coworkers. Look, just because we're not a thing anymore doesn’t mean you need to sabotage your own life. Things like breakups happen, and I'm sure you will find a lovely girl." Your heart ached just thinking about them with another girl, all sharing and loving how they loved you.

"Don't want anyone else."

"Kyle."

"I mean it, I love you, and not just a bit. I know you're the right one. Tell me what you want, and I'll do it. Want me to quit the military? Easy. Want to punish me? Hurt me? I don’t care. Want to never touch me again? Fine, I'll live my life without sex just to have you. Want me to marry you? Done. Why wait? Do you want me to kill that slag? I'll do it. You don’t understand it; there is no such thing as too much for you. There isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for you."

You were too stunned to speak, but by the look in his eyes, you knew he meant every word of it. He really loved you. But how could you trust him again? And John, you knew Kyle loved John, maybe not as much as you, but you were no one to separate them. That wasn’t fair.

"Let me clean the blood from your nose, Kyle." You stood up, ignoring the things he said, and went to the bathroom, grabbing alcohol and one of Kyle's spare t-shirts, inhaling the scent as you sobbed into it.

"Love—"

"Let me clean you."

He picked you up, sitting you down at the sink, where you slowly cleaned his wounds. Your breath felt heavy every second you got near his lips.

"Tell me you don't love me, and I'll never bother you again."

"Kyle, I can't lie to you."

You cleaned him and gave him his new shirt, but you couldn’t let him leave.

"Kyle, I love you, but I love all of you so much that I can't let you choose between me and John. You love him, I know that, and it's okay. I understand."

"John didn’t cheat on you; it was Johnny."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'd never lie to you. He just knew we couldn’t live without you, and you know how selfless he is."

"I thought he cheated." You started to sob again. "I screamed at him, told him how much I hate him, and he wasn’t at fault." You felt like a monster for your feelings.

"He understands."

"How does he hold up?" You knew John was never someone who shared your feelings.

"Locked himself in the office, drinking for days, doesn’t even speak with me."

"Let me fix this."

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

John thought he was hallucinating when you went into his office with the spare key you had. It was too good to be true to see his angel again, but you weren’t real. He needed to stop drinking.

"I'm so sorry, John," you said over and over again, walking towards him, where you sat in your reserved place, on his lap, and slowly removing the glass out of his help. "I'm sorry, John. I don’t hate you, I’d never hate you."

"Cheated on you, deserve it."

"I know it was Johnny."

"Lie."

"Kyle told me."

"Oh."

"Can you forgive me, John?"

"Of course, lovely," he laled and smiled.

"Let me get you in your room, okay, and sober you up." He nodded, and you brought him to his room. You still weren’t sure what to do. Will you forgive them? Will you forgive Johnny?

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

"Lea mah room, slag," Johnny screamed at the medic. He had enough of her and her manipulative acts, how she went into his room and touched him in training. It was enough.

"Don't be so harsh; I'm your girlfriend, after all," she smiled. She was sick fucking delusional.

"Youre nae mah burd ah tellt ye this often enough," he pressed his hands together, his knuckles white from rage. If he was a worse man, he’d kill her on the spot. But he needed her to make a mistake, so there would be proof of her lying.

"Not so aggressive, Johnny, this isn’t good for our baby."

"Are you mental? There is no fucking baby. You raped me three days ago. Aren’t you supposed to be a medic and know how this shit works?"

"There will be, and then we'll be happy."

"You're sick. This will never happen."

"Oh, there will, or you know I could tell anyone how you raped me and dared to kill me after your girlfriend found out."

"No one will believe you."

"They will."

And there was a knock on the door. He left her in the room, telling her it was probably only a rookie. He was surprised when he saw you. Even though you looked broken, you were still the most precious thing in his life. He wanted to hug you, tell you the truth.

"I know it was you, Johnny," you started to cry you never thought Johnny would do such a thing to you."

"Hen, please."

You hugged him tight, which caught him by surprise, but he held you through it. "Tell me why, Johnny. Please, let me know what I did to deserve this." His heart broke with every word you said. He desperately wanted to explain to you that you could never do anything wrong in his life, but the shame ate him up. Would you understand? Would you believe him?

"Tell me you won't do it again, Johnny. Tell me you regret it, that it didn't mean a thing. I'll forgive you, please, Johnny."

"Look, hen—" But before he could finish his sentence, the medic left the room wearing only one of his shirts.

"What are you doing here? I thought you’d broken up with that bore."

You noticed the shirt, the ruffled hair, and the bracelet you gifted Johnny that she wore. "Johnny, why is she wearing your shirt? Why does she have my bracelet?"

"Love, don't believe—"

"Oh, you're not only a bore, you're also dense, aren't you?"

That was enough to finally break you. You walked away, screaming at Johnny that he should leave you alone, running into Simon on your way out.

"Luv?"

"Stay away from me, Si," and he respected your wish, giving you the time to heal you need. He finally found Johnny in a screaming match with the medic. When she saw him, she gave Johnny a peck on his cheek and left with a sly smile.

Johnny was never a man to cry until that day. He didn't know how his life went so downhill in a few days.

"Johnny?"

"Go away, Lt."

"Johnny, tell me what's wrong."

"You wouldn't believe me. No one would."

"Let me decide that. Let's get you in your room and talk." His heart broke seeing Johnny like that, and he knew whatever it was, he would fix it for him.

[glossysoap]

oh glossy.. this thought must be shared. and i'm sharing it with you.

so, i was on twitter and seen this porn thing, where a man uses a body fleshlight and hides it under blankets, and then the girl walks in, seeing the fleshlight and basically replaces the fleshlight with herself. yeah, here me out with pornstar johnny doing that. (i’m gripping my sheets as i think about this. girl. 🫣)

like, yes it’s cringy but because it’s trending - your director NEEDS to post something about this new trend. so, of course johnny; someone who you’ve seen on multiple sets before; volunteers as he hears your director complain about the lack of men that want to do it.

the scene is set where johnny and you are roommates. living in an apartment and johnny has pent up frustration and uses it on his new body fleshlight he bought with his well-earned money. but, the poor man’s been almost going at that thing all hours. so he needs a drink and some food. so he dresses back up with a fat raging hard-on and goes to the kitchen.

you; pool ol’ you. you walked in because you needed johnnys charger, wearing some booty starts and a very large t-shirt. you noticed the fleshlight and gasped, dropping your phone before scattering to pick it up. you call out because you and johnny both have bathrooms in your rooms. and he isn’t there.

in the scene, you and johnny have sexual tension and finally you have this time to replace the thing with yourself. you rip off your clothing and get settled, covering your legs with extra sheets and covering yourself, hips and above underneath the sheets. now you just wait.

few minutes pass and you hear a grunt, a click of the door, with a noise that sounds familiar to a lock clicking. johnny steps closer to your body, grabbing at your hips. “hm. plushy.” johnny thinks, maybe it’s from that break he took and returned with a fresh mind. but he plunges his fingers into your sticky cunt. grabbing at your waist and pushing your hips down. you bite the blanket to hold back a moan as johnny voices his thoughts out on the so called “doll”

“fuckin’ like tha’ ya’ dirty slag. no’ gonnae take pity on ye’.” he says as he spits at your cunt and your eyes roll back. you think to yourself, fuck! he’s good at this. you’ve mostly had to take your orgasm’s because well.. men weren’t the best at giving you pleasure. you tried hard to stay on script but fuck his fingers plotting into you from behind is fucking fantastic.

your head begins to shake before you squirted in his fingers. not meaning to but his rough fat fingers felt too good for your poor pussy :( “wha’ the fuck!?” he exclaims and undos the sheets and you turn your whole body around, gulping the spit that gathered in your mouth. “j-john! hey, yeah - sorry.. may - may have gotten distracted.” you smile at him with pleading eyes and he shakes his head with furrowed brows.

“y’kno’.” he grabs your hips and pulls you closer to his throbbing dick that’s still in his sticky and sweaty boxers. “maybe ye’ shoul’ be my lil’ toy from now on.” he grabs your thighs and pushed them close to your chest and goes down on you, quick and ruthless. you whine and whimper, your still trying to come down from the feeling of squirting on his fingers and he wants another one from you.

“fuckin’ addictin’ this pussy is.” he grumbles, and you lock your thighs around his head, orgasm coming quick. before you could even say anything, your whimpers and moans gained a higher pitch and you came, once again, all over his face. he lapped up your juices and your clit. sucking hard on your clit when he comes up.

the both of you breath in and out heavily. “gonnae take my cock now like a good slag, aye?” and you nod your head, wanting his thick cock in your cunt.

he grabs his boxers and pull them enough down to reveal his cock and balls and you shamelessly stare. his full balls from not being able to come in that doll, saving it all up for you, throbbing tip that has globs of pre rolling down his shaft. fucking thick he is. your not sure if you can take all that but he just rubs your sides that isn’t visible to the camera, most likely trying to comfort you with his actions as he isn’t able to with his words.

you spread you thighs a bit wider. looking at him with a little worried expression but he just kisses your forehead. grabbing his cock and pushing his tip into your entrance and you groan. a ‘pop’ like sound being heard before your moan. “shh - shh. can take it bonnie lass. ye’ can, just gotta stretch that pretty thang out.”

and fuck it feels good. too good for a cock. stretches you right and hits that good spot when he finally halts. the base of his cock inside you completely. and when the camera is zoomed in you nod at him, indicating to move and he does. fat dick just moving in and out as he groans loudly while you whine his name and whimper out noises of pleasure.

all you know is that you blanked for who knows how long to be greeted with johnny rubbing your back and humming to you. fuck that was some good dick.

(i didn’t know how to end this. anyways, here glossy. you don’t need to add-on. just needs to be said.)

FANGS WHAT THE FUCKKKKK 😭😭😭 don’t worry at all about the concept being cringe (to be cringe is to be free)! IT. IS. SO. HOT. idk what it is about this ask but the insp just FLEW right onto the paper (screen?) so thank you! i promise im working on your rudy ask 😭

18+ no minors or ageless bios!

(these thoughts can apply to you two being porn stars or just the scenario in general! either way 😁 also i accidentally wrote this with reader being already on her back instead of her stomach, im sorry 😭)

may i suggest that he buys a sex doll/body fleshlight that matches your description? ie, if you’re curvy he would buy one with thicker thighs that resemble yours.

that works even more in your favor when you’re pretending to be the doll, but the similarities aren’t lost on you - sure, it could be a coincidence but if the little moans of your name at night (ones you convinced yourself you were imagining) were anything to go by, he did it on purpose.

imagine yourself covering your mouth in excitement and anticipation when you hear him walk into the room, hearing him unbuckle his belt and kick off his pants. it was obvious he was pent up and desperate, ready to fuck his “doll” into the mattress like he’s done many times before.

you could hear your heart pound as you felt the mattress dip behind you. meanwhile, he’s got that wolfish grin painted on his lips as he pulls out his already throbbing cock from his boxers. he gives it a few slow, dry strokes before finally groping the “dolls” thighs and groaning in approval at their softness and plushness.

“mmm, so soft and sweet.” just like you, he thought.

meanwhile, your breath was hitching as you felt him grope and squeeze at your thighs without abandon - inching his way up to your already dripping cunt. you were just throbbing. so fucking desperate for your roommate to touch you.

he didn’t waste any time violating his “dolls” cunt, only spending a few seconds tracing your wet slit before easing two thick fingers in. you could hear him hum in approval at how easy his fingers slid in, all while you were busy biting the fabric of the blanket. you could also hear how wet you were from the obscene sounds his fingers were making with your juices.

he didn’t go gentle or quick with his fingers. why would he? he was just using a “doll” after all, right? no need to worry about overstimulating or anything.

“y’ feel so fuckin’ warm. so soft.”

he took his sweet time feeling along your warm walls, and he even curled his fingers in search of that special spot — even though his doll wouldn’t have any g-spot. (that’s what he thought, at least.)

“what a fuckin’ tease. walk-in’ around with some dumb lads while i’m in here, ready to fuck ye’ like ye’ need.” he spits on your mound, watching his saliva trickle down to your soaking wet folds. you gasp against the fabric at both his words, all dark and husky, and the feeling of his spit trickling down to your cunt. you’ve never gotten this close to cumming in such a short amount of time.

he slipped a third finger in, scissoring his fingers inside your cunt while he plunges them in and out - stretching you open for his cock. he uses the rough pad of his thumb to rub at your swollen clit while he finger fucks you.

he just kept doing it, curling and curling while plunging in and out. little did he know, he had found that spot just like he wanted. and he was abusing it. as if somewhere deep in his subconscious, he knew it was really you under the covers and he knew that was your g-spot.

under the blankets, you were gasping and biting the blanket until your jaw hurt. you were so fucking close. all you needed was a few more pulses against your g-spot and his thumb rubbing on your clit to push you over.

which is exactly what he did, growling out a, “c’mon. c’mon.”

at that moment, you absolutely gushed all over his fingers and palm. your legs and hips twitched as your orgasm rocked through you. you couldn’t help it as you let out a broken mewl from under his sheets.

your mouth was still open mid-moan as he exclaimed, “wha’ the fuck?!” and yanked back the blankets that were covering you. his eyes widened as he saw you naked under the covers, where his doll usually lay. his eyes can’t help it, he looks at your gorgeous tits and plush stomach and your beautiful face. all things he had fantasized about countless times.

“johnny! this- this isn’t what it—,” you pathetically attempt, growing increasingly embarrassed as you see his eyes darken (with anger or disgust, you assume). his big broad form was keeping your thighs pried apart so you couldn’t hide your wet cunt, making it so you tried to cover yourself with the blanket.

he wouldn’t have any of it, though.

“no, no, no. none o’ that. up ye’ get.” he all but growls out as he yanks all of the covers off of you, revealing your naked form once more. he ignores your yelp as he grabs you under your shoulders to pull you from the bed. he’s manhandling you at this point, his arms moving to wrap around your mid section and pulling you to straddle his lap. you gasp as you feel his cock against your thigh.

“i think,” he grounds out, feeling you grasping at his broad shoulders to steady yourself. “i think i should get my fill from the original from now on.”

he barely waits for any response from you before he’s reaching under you and guiding his cock inside your dripping cunt. he watches your face as he eases his length inside, his girth so thick that you felt that slight burn of stretch. he watched as your mouth hung open in a moan, your brows knitting together.

“mmm, look at tha’. big stretch for such a tight cunt.” his words only made you moan even more, his husky voice sending shivers down your spine.

“so fuck-,” you whine, voice cracking, “so fucking full.”

“yeah? s’ tha good? hmm?” he crooned mockingly, giving a cruel thrust up into you just to hear you cry out and make you clutch onto him.

“that’s it, hold onto me. i’ll take care of ye’.” he murmurs into your ear, hands coming down to your ass to make you grind onto his cock.

“s’ tha’ what ye’ needed? someone to fill ye’ up? empty yer brain?” you could only nod over and over, eyes glossing over.

“well, ye’ know who you’ll be coming to for tha’ don’t ye’?” he whispers, feeling you tighten around his cock.

skin slapped against skin as he set a steady rhythm of fucking up into you, hips thrusting into your warm wet cunt. you were already sensitive from cumming only a few minutes prior, so it didn’t take much for him to push you to the edge again. especially with his girth stretching you out so fucking perfectly, and the head of his cock hitting that perfect spot with every thrust.

all it took for you to cream all over his cock was his thumb rubbing roughly at your clit again, abusing that sensitive bud, and him mouthing at the crook of your neck before biting down hard.

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

[egg-but-with-style]

Totally not inspired by an audio I just listened to, but soap finding your porn audio tabs

NSFW under the cut! (Also aftercare?)

His phone died, and he needed to look something up, okay fine. Problem is, Johnny is a nosey fucker, and while, yeah, he did need to look something up, he also wanted to maybe look at your search history

Really it's his fault that he found it, dirty audio porn that has the listener being fucked so hard they see stars. He starts degrading you over it, "Yer really fucking dirty aren't ya? Didn't take you to be such a slag"

You're practically begging him to give him back your phone, even going so far as to try and pry it out of his hands, which, you almost do, you aren't small and you're decently strong, but he's literally a trained agent.

He keeps reading off stuff you listen to. Non con, deepthroating, humiliation, overstimulation. He hit the jackpot. Soon enough he's telling you to pull of your clothes.

"Bet you were fuckin wet the second I started talking to you. Go on, take off your clothes, I know you're wet" you try and tell him off, "Johnny please, I just..it's not-" then he's grabbing you by your throat and you shudder "What did I just fucking say?" And who are you to argue with that?

He takes one good look at the pond you call your pussy and attaches his face to it. Sucking on your clit and making you whine and moan.

"Johnny.. please.. I- Ah Oh my god!!"

Then he has you cumming on his tongue, making you wish he'd found out about your kinky side sooner. But he doesn't stop, he just keeps sucking

"Im- Oh fuck! I'm really sensitive..please."

He comes up to the surface, looking you in the eyes while your juices drip down his chin. There's this wild look about him, like he's planning on marrying you just because of this.

"I know you like it bonnie, I'm giving you want you want. Whether you think you do or nah."

Then he's back to it. Only after making you cum for a third time does he finally unbuckle his belt, slowly sliding his hard, dripping cock into your messy hole.

It's a tight fit, your walls are barely able to accommodate to his girth. You thought you would've been a bit more prepared after making such a mess on his tongue but apparently not. Now you're just whining.

"Too big...I feel- feel full..."

"Yer so fucking tight, greedy cunts pulling me in"

He's thrusting so hard and fast, He's mesmerized by the jiggle of your thighs and your tummy everytime he moves, he's not sure what he did to deserve such a goddess. Only when you're seizing, grabbing onto the sheets and crying from pleasure does he finally cum inside and flop down on top of you. And even then he's flapping his gums "Bloody hell that was good..you did amazing for me.."

You let out a groan in response, and he laughs. You're practically boneless. So he pulls out to go and get the bath running, coming back with a towel to clean you up in the mean time.

"I love you.."

"I love you too you horny bastard.."

He lets out another giggle

"I'm not the one who listens to audio porn"

"Oh shut the fuck up!"

[iguessthisisanewobsession]

You know know those fics that make one of the waynes a halfa?

I’m just saying, do ectoblasts have the ability to be shaped to the wielder’s will?

Because if so..

——————————

“This is fucking stupid.”

Jason huffed as he tried to push out another blast from his palm.

“It only feels stupid because you’re not used to it.”

“Of course I’m not used to it. Pretty sure the people who would find this natural would be tamarans.”

Sweat was building under his brow as the green flickered in his palm as he braced his arm and took aim.

The glass broke with a shatter but more to the force of the new crater in the old car they were using in the junkyard than his aim.

Danny hummed as he inspected the damage, Jason plopped down with a huff.

“You’re putting too much of yourself into the blasts. You’re draining yourself with each shot.”

Jason raised a middle finger in the general direction of his compatriot,

“You said it was like the baster, when the things’ crappy battery fucks off I just kind of shove all the energy I can into it hope for the best.”

Danny felt gravity suddenly take hold of him as he jolted, with a quick dip into the ground he righted himself to gawk.

“What?!”

“What?” Jason parroted back, “what’s with that look?”

Danny brought his fingers to the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for a second before asking,

“Dude.. how have you not passed out yet?”

“Spite and audacity. Mainly spite.”

“No shit.”

Danny moved so that he was facing Jason with consternation,

“Jay.. how do I best explain this? Yes, you are the power source both, you do power both the ectobasts and the blaster. The problem is that you are not taking into account that you are not a blaster.”

Jason snorted,

“Yeah no shit I’m not.”

“No you don’t- wait let me just-“

Danny reached inside of himself and pulled out a wrist ray.

“So normally these guys only have about two shots before they need to naturally charge, what we do when we force our ecto into the battery is the equivalent of a super charge. The thing is, the battery has a natural cap to how much ecto it can take. If it didn’t it would just turn into slag.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Jay, you don’t have that cap because you are both the power source and the battery when you ectoblast. You don’t have a power cap other than what you can make at a time!”

Jason blinked for a second,

“So what you’re saying is i have basically been hail marry-ing it whenever I have been dealing with these stupid things!?”

“Hey this is good actually!”

Danny as he raised to his feet,

“you’ve been accidentally doing endurance training and nowww we know what was wrong. We just need to give you a better mental visual to help you! What’s a weapon you know that will make yourself limit your ecto? It’ll have to be a projectile and your ability to visualize it has to be almost instinctual, can’t have you fudging up because of a cloudy mind-“

And one would think that Jason’s mind would go to his guns. His primaries that he kept with him wherever he went.

But guns were complex things. How well maintenance, what types of mods, and the ammo; there was a lot of small things that went into a gun.

Further more how would he hold his hands to shoot?

No, his mind didn’t go to his guns.

————————

There was something new up red hood’s sleeve.

Something different.

It was green and didn’t come out often, but it was never a good day when they did.

When a gang had Hood pinned with limited ammo they thought they had finally did the impossible and toppled the crime alley boss.

Only to watch one of their associates get cratered into the nearby wall with a groan from the impact of a glowing blur.

Ted gaped at the fallen member and was only able to let out a confused,

“Was that a green batarang?!?”

Before all hell broke loose.

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

141 NSFW Headcanons

Requested: No

Warnings: NSFW, spanking, choking, pet play, age gap, dirty talk, exhibitionism, Degradation

Price

Favorite Kinks:

Spanking

This one is fairly obvious, I think. It combines with his authority kink while also showing you your place. Sometimes he likes to combine it with humiliation and spank you in front of his Sergeants if you’ve been particularly bratty or aggravating for a longer period of time. But overall, even if you were perfect, he’d find the littlest things to punish you over just so he could hear your whimpers every time his hand or belt came down on your ass, gets all smug when you can’t sit properly for the next few days.

Cock Warming

Speaking of sitting, this one is a kink that Price just loves. For a variety of reasons but the main one is that he likes to see you squirm, panting and whimpering, trying to rock against his cock for any kind of friction to satiate your need but every time that you do he ends up smacking your ass as punishment along with giving you a stern order to stop moving. The way your eyes go all dumb and teary gets him going but he’s more than satisfied to just have you hold him in your tight walls. For now.

Scent

Should start by saying that this man has the nose of a bloodhound. Subtle scents that most other people wouldn’t notice are like a punch to the face for him. No scent goes unnoticed by him. But he didn’t think it could be a kink til he met you. The smell of your skin after a shower, after a jog, after sex. It’s all so intoxicating to him. Your natural scent and the smell of your various hygiene products. He’ll get pissed if you, say, switch up your usual choice of perfume. Will bitch and moan about it til you hop into the shower to scrub it all away and come back out so he can bury his face into your thighs and just smell.

Favorite Positions:

Him standing with you bent over the bed

This position is usually accompanied by his hand on the back of your neck and another one your hip, absolutely wrecking your insides and not giving you even an inch of room to wiggle away from him. Grunting and growling as he tells you to take it like the good little slag you are. He likes the position because of the power but also because he likes to see your ass jiggle with everything thrust.

You pressed face first against a wall with him behind you

This position also plays into having power over you, keeping you still. He adores how there’s nowhere his body isn’t touching you. Pressed against you so close that it feels like you can’t breathe. Like you’re being crushed but in the best way as he fucks into you from behind. This one is more saved for quickies or bouts in his office though, as he does usually prefer you spread out on his bed, surrounded by his things.

You laying on your side with him kneeling and your legs curled over his hip

This is one of Price’s softer positions. One of few that actually gives you room to breathe. Hunched over you, breath tickling your ear as he goes slowly in and out, one of his hands holding yours, fingers intertwined as he tells you how good you’re taking him. So sweet for him, so perfect. Just stay nice and still for him, Lovey. That you’re his, always was and always will be.

Most Common Dirty Talk:

“Shhh, Love. You can take it. Just stay nice and still for me.”

“Bend over, Love. I can’t let your disobedience go unpunished.”

“Stop wiggling, or I’ll have to find ways to make you stop.”

Gaz

Favorite Kinks:

Age Gap

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Gaz is a Milf/Dilf fucker. God, he goes feral for an older person who is just so goddamn beautiful. Laugh lines, crow’s feet, streaks of grey hair. He is just….he’s such a simp. Staring very respectfully from between your thighs, absolutely fucking wrecked with lust.

Thigh Fucking

There is a lot going on in Gaz’s brain but all of that fucking disappears the second he sees a nice pair or thighs. The thicker the better, god help his soul if they squish together and leave absolutely no room in between. His dick is hard and his brain is gone, and he will take every opportunity to fuck them and absolutely cover them in his cum, making sure to take a pretty picture after. (It becomes his Home Screen and yes, he changes it every single time he gets a new one. So like, every other day.)

Marking

This kink is one of the lesser ones among his favorites but it is still very prominent. But his methods of marking are actually not. He prefers more subtle marks. His dog tags around your neck, his name written somewhere on you, his cum sprayed all over the crotch of your underwear. Little things that taunt him throughout the day and drive him crazy with lust.

Favorite Positions:

Cowgirl

This man is a power bottom and I will stand by that. Making you ride him, his hands on your hips guiding you at the exact pace that he likes, watching his tags bounce against your sweaty chest with each drop, in love with the way you shudder when he bucks up into you every once and a while or just grabs your ass and starts manually lifting you instead of just guiding.

Reverse Cowgirl

Yes, it’s incredibly similar to the Cowgirl position but Gaz thinks that’s it different enough to make note of. And god does he just love to see the way your ass jiggles with each bounce, wanting so badly to grab at it but knowing his hands will get in the way so he has to settle for your hips, growling and repeatedly interrupting his own rhythm with a few harsher thrusts just to see how loud the sound of your ass clapping can get.

69

The perfect mix of your thighs around his head and your lips around his cock, he literally could no ask for a better position. His only problem with it is that he can’t angle himself to bite at every inch of your thighs like he usually does, but he’ll settle for scratching down the back of them. For now, at least.

Most Common Dirty Talk:

“Fuck. You feel so good, you know that? So perfect for me.”

“This must be what Heaven is, these beautiful thighs wrapped round my head.”

“Just-Just let me fuck them a little, please? Need to cum so bad, Love. And you get me all hot and bothered just looking at you.”

Ghost

Favorite Kinks:

Wrestling

I’d imagine this to be a newer kink of Simon’s, probably discovered during some self defense lesson. Both of you breathing heavily, sweating, one of you pinned beneath the other. In other situations it would be annoying or perhaps scary but with you…with you it was exciting. He’ll go out of his way to spar with you from then on, neither of you commenting on his hard bulge being rubbed against your ass whenever he manages to pin you down.

Choking

The intimacy of you letting him choke you is something that gets to him in a way few things do. Letting him hold your life in his hands, trusting him to treat it delicately, to treasure it. Believing whole heartedly that he’ll return it instead of just taking and taking and taking until you’re….gone. It’s not often he gets that kind of trust and it goes right to his cock (and his heart).

Collaring

Possessive mixed with humiliation go brrrrr. Simon just fucking loves walking you like a dog, his name so clearly visible on the tags clipped to your collar. Calls you his good little fuck puppy as he’s buckling up your collar, black leather digging into your neck just the slightest bit. God, and the way you whimper up at him. He’ll never get enough.

Favorite Positions:

Him standing and you lifted against a wall, your legs around his waist

A display of strength along with the ability to keep you tight where he wants you, clinging to him for dear life as he slowly rocks up into you, the pace torturous, entirely too lazy for you but perfect for him. The nice slow drag giving him the ability to feel every inch of your insides, the sound of your heat trying desperately to suck him back in music to his ears.

On his back with you laying on top of him, laying against his chest

Simon likes this position because of the way he can feel to it heart racing, thumping wildly against his chest as he moves your hips for his own pleasure, groaning and huffing in your ear like a beast instead of a man, convinced there’s nothing more heavenly then the feel of you against him, your hole gripping him tightly, a fight to even move.

Him sitting with you on lap facing off to the side, leaning against his chest

This position is usually reserved for nights of cock warming at the pub or poker with the rest of the team. One of his hands under your knees, pinching you when you get a bit too squirmy for his liking or soothingly petting you when you start to whimper with need. He’ll tell you the others have no idea what you two were doing but…it was pretty obvious.

Most Common Dirty Talk:

“Who said you could speak?“

“On your knees now, Pet.”

“Spread your legs, show me what I own.”

Soap

Favorite Kinks:

Pet Play

Puppy Boy. God, he’s so dog coded. Call him your precious boy or your mutt, either way his dick is getting hard. Put a collar on him, make him hump your leg, give him a cute tail. Anything, anything at all. He’s yours! Your mutt, your puppy, your dog. Fiercely loyal and obedient, willing to choke and die at your command.

Exhibitionism

Yeah, Johnny’s such a freak in the bedroom and while it isn’t 100% the same outside of the bed, he is still pretty freaky when walking about. God, and the thrill of being in the halls, balls deep inside you were anyone can see, rutting so fast and deep like he was gonna die any second if he didn’t cum.

Degradation

This is kind of a double edged sword because Soap loves to both give and receive nasty words. You’ll snap at him that he’s just a filthy mutt when he’s going too hard and fast and he’ll just give you a wolffish grin and say that you must be a bitch in heat then, letting a mutt like him mount you and fuck you full.

Favorite Positions:

Doggy

A bit self explanatory, goes with the pet play thing and he also just likes how he can rest his face on you as he’s thrusting, drooling all over your skin as he pants and groans, occasionally biting and sucking whenever he can reach. In his mind, there is simply not a better position to be had. Might actually get a bit pouty if you want to do a different one.

Face down ass up

Once more, very similar to the first one but to Soap there is a very important distinction. That being that he can stare at your ass as he fucks you, spank it more freely, claw at it as much as he wants. Or he could hold your face down in the pillows by the back of your neck and get an even deeper angle.

Him kneeling as you sit, your knees up to your chest

This is his most common way of eating you out just because of how much access it gives him. He can lick all over your sex, suck, bite, spit on. It might be a bit uncomfortable for you but you’ll have a hard time thinking through just how much of a mess he’s making of you. Which is just how he intends for it to be.

Most Common Dirty Talk:

“Please don't stop, please please please please please.”

“Feel so good, Love. Please lemme cum inside, gonna die without it.”

“I need it. Need you. Please, just fuck me!”

[liasadventuretime]

✦ YOU JEALOUS ?

neteyam x reader x ao'nung

PROMPT ➜ neteyam and y/n had anything but a good relationship, always fighting and bickering over something. but once those lustful eyes and lingering hands started getting noticed, everything changed, but neteyam could possibly have realised everything too late.

TAGS ➜ angst, slight mention of sex, teasing, heavy language

"you know what, fuck off and leave me alone skxawng" if there's one thing that neteyam can do so well and effortlessly it's annoy you. he enjoys it, you can see it on his face from how hard that motherfucker smiles.

he was "The Mighty Warrior", the best, the smartest, the strongest, the most mature. but when jake and neytiri couldn't see him, he was just another teenage boy, who got more dick than brain. you were incredibly grateful for everything that the sully family did for you, taking care and trying their best to always make you comfortable, since you lost your parents in the same war where neytiri and jake met. one time, you remember well that night, while doing some late night talking with lo'ak, he said that it seemed almost like eywa took something but immediately gave it back to you, "what Eywa gives, Eywa takes". 

but if you knew how much this lil bitch was going to annoy you, you might've as well killed yourself. but you're grateful you didn't because Eywa gave you the mom, the dad, the brother and the two sisters you never knew you needed. you and neteyam used to actually be very close, as children always playing and laughing together, almost made neytiri doubt if Eywa sent you to them for him. but as soon as you two realised that you were both the best, things started to crumble. what was filled with love and laughter, was now filled with bitterness and competitiveness. the first fight of yours, became one of the many. 

but it seemed like everyone noticed it but the two of you. the tension, might as well say sexual tension, was thicker the more you two grew. it could intoxicate the whole room. flirting with eachother with insults, and punches. never realising what you felt , not being capable of explaining the attraction between y'all. so you simply ignored it, and continued bumping heads as long as you could feel his hands on you and as long he could hear you talking, actually insulting, to him. as long as he could look at you being so angry because of something HE said, making YOU feel something, anything, towards him. 

you were fighting once again because of ao'nung, neteyam always making comments about how he holds you, or kiss you while fake moaning with others around. to say the least, it was embarrassing and you were kind of scared ao'nung would take it the wrong way, because you knew damn well you didn't like him. 

"oh yes, ao'nung fuck me harder please i'm such a whore" neteyam said while laughing and getting in front of you to stop you from going away, you raised your head to look at him only to see that fucking stare and smirk he always seemed to have plastered on his face. that face. that handsome and hateful face. lo'ak was on the ground laughing his ass off, enjoying every single one of your fights, but he also stayed there and watched to know who was going to throw the first punch, since none of your arguments has ended without one of you being on top of the other, and not in the way y'all think.

"why don't you like him ? what are you ? jealous because you know he could fuck me but you can't even touch me ?" he suddenly stopped laughing, his grin being replaced with a serious face, making you smirk knowing you hit him where you wanted. even though you hated eachother so much, you were both so jealous. if your jealousy for one another could pay the bills, you'd be the richest in the fucking room, that's something neytiri always said. 

"you're such a slag you would let anyone with a dick and muscles fuck you 'till you're dumb" he whispered in your ear, feeling the smirk on his face without even having to look at his face. your grin dropped immediately, feeling your blood boil and before you even realised it, it was your last fucking straw. 

you punched him right in the jaw, taking him off guard and making him stumble, but you didn't even have to think a second about it before he returned the punch x5 harder but on your nose. lo'ak immediately got up annoyed but also kind of scared one of you would kill the other, it's not like you weren't capable of it. 

" dad ! " he called, when he saw you on top of him but with wrists restrained by one of his hands while trying to dodge your slaps and punches. blood was pouring down your nose, and the bruise was already visible on his face. your nose could probably bleed for maybe another five minutes, but he would have to carry the mark of your punch for the rest of the month. 

"my lord, fuck. DAD ! THEY'RE FIGHTING AGAIN !" he screamed and then sighed, jake immediately ran to the both of you, with the angriest expression on his face , since this was your third fight that week. he pulled the two of you apart. "if i hear you two motherfuckers ever fight again, i'll lock you both in a tent until you'll make peace, understood ?" 

you could barely stand on your feet, neteyam was still holding his jaw and jake was breathing heavily, so you didn't wait a second and you both said "yessir, sorry sir" at the same time, because if he got seriously angry, may the lord have mercy on anyone he comes across. 

neytiri tried to talk to him, and jake tried to talk to you but even after all the promises, you just couldn't avoid him. he was with you always. at home, in the field, in the clan, in picture frames, in dirty dreams, while ao'nung's hand was on your waist, lingering way too much... you just couldn't frame him out. 

it's not like he could do anything about you either. he lost count of how many times his mom tried and convince him of trying to at least not always end up with your hands all over each other, and a few new bruises. he just... can't ? for some reason he couldn't fathom why you couldn't leave his mind. you were imprinted on his eyelids, tattooed in his mind, even while battling, showering or with his hands between his thighs. he was addicted, and whatever you were, you were much stronger than the "herbs" he smokes with you in the nightime, which was the only part of your day where you would rant and talk about anything that came across your mind. 

you didn't like eachother one bit, that's true. but when he had something on his mind or just needed to talk to someone who could understand him, your tent was the first one he visited. with all the pressure and responsibility that you two hold, having someone that can understand you is important. basically every night you either met on the beach or his tent, to just smoke, talk or even cry. you ended each "peace" session with a hug and went back to hating eachother the next morning.

"hey, are you coming ?" lo'ak said while entering your tent, placing himself next to you while you were rebraiding your hair after your fight with neteyam. you looked confused for a second and asked "coming where ?". you weren't even sure you wanted to go wherever he was going, because you just know neteyam is going to be there. but why let him ruin all your fun ? ao'nung was probably going to be there, so why not ?

lo'ak looked around your tent and took the sandwich that was on the counter next to you, taking a bite off of it. "i was eating that if you don't mind" you said taking the sandwich out of his hands, to cut it in half and give him the other half. he smiled at your gesture, you could hate him all you want but you just had that sweet spot for him. lo'ak was definitely the person you were the closest with, having eachother's backs and protecting one another in any situation. if he wanted to get in trouble, you followed him while complaining because you were actually scared he would get in some serioustrouble.

"i don't know, tsireya just asked some people if they wanted to hang out and talk and shit, we'll see" he said while trying to be so non-chalant that made him look so nervous. you eyed him for a bit, and when he noticed you smiled and hummed.

"what ?" he asked with a confused expression on his face.

"nothing" but your smile only grew more. he knew what you were thinking, but he just wanted you to say to make sure it wasn't that obvious.

"no c'mon, what ? why are you smiling ?"

"you know that you will have to talk to tsireya alone if you want her to like you, right ? like, do you expect me to also be there while you eat her out or what ?" you laughed, while he was trying to hide his blush but it didn't work. 

"YOU'RE GROSS WHAT" he picked up the nearest pillow and threw it at you, but you dodged him before he even threw it. after that, lo'ak tried to not look at you in the eyes while calming down.

"sooo..." he looked at you with a smirk on his face and puppy eyes.

"so what ?" you asked while looking at yourself in the mirror, putting a bandaid on your nose to prevent the scratches from getting infected. is you, being turned because of the memory of him pinning your wrists with one hand to prevent from punching him, that bad ?

"YES !" he jumped up almost scaring you, proceeding to chant and grunt all over your tent. "c'mon, she might already be there, hurry up" you stood up taking his hand and running out of your tent. 

after just five minutes, you saw where tsireya was and immediately went there, lo'ak being way too impatient, but this is the actual first time he has liked someone this seriously, so who were you to tell him to calm down ? 

lo'ak immediately went straight to tsireya, but you decided to look around a bit to see if you could find anyone. well, maybe someone. 

you turned around the fire place, when you accidentally bumped shoulders with someone, but as soon as you realised who you were turning around for to excuse yourself, your heart almost stopped.

he winked at you with a smirk on his face, and immediately walked away. still confused because of your interaction with neteyam, you find ao'nung. he smiles and pats the space between his thighs, you walk there and immediately sat while looking at him. he used to hold you tight and place his chin on your head. even though you didn't like him that way, he was the first guy that held you without hurting you. he was sweet, kind and strong. the perfect man. he cared so much about you, but you both knew you didn't want anything serious, just someone to have a bit of fun with. between his big arms you felt protected, safe from everything and anyone.

his smile could light up a whole room, his back and hands could protect hundreds of villages, his words could heal the deepest wounds, his tears could wipe away continents but he loves so deeply he can get buried inside anyone's heart.

but for some reason…

...you still didn't feel the spark.

the spark, that unfortunately, you could feel with someone else.

whom you didn't realise was looking directly at you with the deadliest stare ever. when you noticed him, you immediately froze. but why ? why were you acting like you just caught ? why do you feel this drowning heavy feeling in your stomach ? why was your heart missing a beat, but you felt that heartbeat somewhere else ? why is it that everytime he makes you cry, another tear rolls down your thigh?

why, why, why ?

he held a cup in his hands, basically chocking it, but didn't get his eyes off of you. his posture rigid, his eyes cold and his arms veiny, probably because of the blood that was boiling in his veins.

then, an idea crossed your mind.

you took ao'nung hand who was, as usual, lingering on your waist and placed it on your thigh rubbing it up and down, making it get more and more near to your inner thigh with every stroke.

his patience was slowly thinning out. he couldn't stand it. you're so beautiful when you tease him, it hurts him so much. he wish it could be him. making you whimper and crave oh so more with those eyes which were veiled with tears, and how could he resist his beautiful girl ? how could he say no to you ? if you ever gave him the chance, he would destroy you.

he would treat you as if you were a princess, caring, protecting, and nurturing you but would fuck you as if you were a whore, biting, marking and making sure the next motherfucker could taste his dick on your clit.

he felt blood rush to his erection, making it more noticeable, but why the fuck did he feel that way ? WHY ? maybe he was jealous because he knew you can tell a joke, but will never tell a lie.

ao'nung has a chance, while neteyam doesn't. which makes him feel sorry for you, because he would make sure that everytime he fucked you, you would come back crawling and begging for more.

more, more, more.

nothing was ever enough. the lustful stares, the lingering eyes, the blush, the smiles you both tried to hide so much, but never worked.

why did he feel jealous every single time you hung out alone with lo'ak, or you laughed at everyone's jokes but his ? why did he get hard everytime you spoke near his ear or accidentally touched him ? why was he so sensitive around you ? every move of yours making his stomach flip ? why were so... you ?

meanwhile, ao'nung carefully moved your hair out of the way, making neteyam hold his cup even more tightly, and whispered in your ear "what are you doing, darling ?"

ao'nung couldn't act like nothing was happening, his smile plastered across his face, making neteyam even more angry and angry by the second. he probably enjoyed the teasing more than you did. you looked at him with those innocents eyes that neteyam couldn't resist, and whispered back

"nothing" and kissed the back of his ear, taking him off guard and making his erection now way too noticeable. that was neteyam's last straw, he could kill someone with his bare hands. but the difficult part was admitting he would've done it because of you.

he sometimes wishes you could die, because not having you makes his heart cry of pain every single day. in his opinion, it's his life's biggest torture. but as someone else would say, his heart and dick were so full of you, he could barely call them his own. the way you looked at him in the eyes while teasing another man, could make any person fall to their knees and beg, beg, beg. which you weirdly enjoyed, it's not like you didn't know the effect you had on people.

it was enough for now, you didn’t wanna take it too far.

you stood up, and lightly kissed ao'nung on the lips and whispered goodnight. neteyam immediately threw away his cup smashing it, and stood up following you, making people watch you and him as you both left making everyone ask themselves what was happening.

before you could enter your tent, you felt a big cold hand grab the back of your neck making you gasp, and making you turn around you and look up to stare directly at neteyam's eyes, the most beatiful and deadliest eyes ever. you could get lost in them, but did he know that ? was it even worth it to think all that stuff about him if he didn't know ? was all the fighting, jealousy and teasing worth it ? why ?

because you were both too proud to admit anything, nonetheless your weird and sick attraction for eachother.

"what the fuck was that kiss ? what the fuck are doing ? are you his whore ? hm ? " he said grinning his teeth and hissing, almost making a nerve on his temple pop, while keeping his hand tight on the back of your neck. the amount of time that you fantasised about his calloused hands roughly all over you. you could just feel his jealousy through every word he spat in your face, and lord why was it so attractive ?

this man was so angry, but so damn attractive and oh did it make you want to let him do anything to you. anything.

you smiled and grinned, knowing what was going thru his mind, and whispered in his ear, feeling his goosebumps and breath he didn't realise he was holding.

"you jealous ?"

[scoonsalicious]

9.1 Lily

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,

Word Count: 1.8k

Previously On...: You spent a lovely day at the Compound with Bucky, even if he did tell you he thinks you should stop having sex so you can focus on getting to know one another better.

A/N: In the interest of saving my arm, I'm going to move to a temporary every other day posting schedule. So, for the time being, updates will be Mon/Wed/Fri/Sun/Tue/Thus/Sat etc, at least until I am fully better.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Lily paced in the empty common room as she waited for Bucky to get back to the Compound from wherever he’d been when she’d texted him. She was furious. She was more than furious. She was enraged. After all the work she’d put into preparing their ‘friend’ date, he had the gall to stand her up, and not let her know until fifteen minutes after he was supposed to pick her up! What kind of a friend did something like that?

And then! When one of her recruits had come in after lunch, telling everyone who would listen how he’d seen Bucky Barnes ride off the compound grounds on his motorcycle with “a hot piece of ass” on the bike behind him, and that the “piece of ass” was wearing one of Bucky’s Henleys? How the fuck was she supposed to take that, if not a blatant slap to the face of their relationship? It was all her recruits could talk about for the next twenty minutes, gossiping like a bunch of little old ladies with absolutely nothing better to do with their time.

Until Lily made them run ten miles.

She couldn’t believe he was doing this to her. Risking their four years of friendship.

And all for what? Some random slag? Was he really that desperate to get his dick wet? Fuck, she’d be more than willing to help him out with that if he’d just ask her. Why was he being so difficult?

She stopped mid-turn when she heard the sound of the elevator doors opening. Spinning on her heel, she watched as Bucky exited and made his way slowly into the common room, looking like a man about to walk into his execution. Good, she thought. Let him feel ashamed for humiliating me like that.

“Hey, Lil,” he said when he’d finally reached her.

“Don’t you ‘hey, Lil’ me,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “What you did last night was really hurtful, James”

“I said I was sorry, Lil,” he protested with a sigh, hands thrust deep into his pockets. “I didn’t mean to bail on you– it’s just… she was willing to give me another chance after I fucked it up yesterday morning. I didn’t want to risk blowing it.”

Lily scoffed. “So, you decided that impressing some random hookup was more important than keeping plans you made with your best friend of the last four years?”

“She’s not a random hookup, Lil,” Bucky said, his voice rising slightly. “I told you– I really like this one. I want this to work out between us.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “So, what? Her vagina is so magic you’re gonna let it turn you into a shitty friend?”

Bucky seemed taken aback by that, and Lily began pacing again. “Lil?” He cleared his throat, the sound stopping her in her tracks. “Is the reason you’re so bothered by this because… because you have feelings for me?”

Lily could feel all the blood drain from her face, and she was grateful not to be facing him because she knew she’d look as white as a ghost and completely give herself away. 

“It’s okay if you do,” Bucky said into her silence. “I’d never invalidate your feelings, but you have to know that I don–”

“Ego trip much, Jamie?” Lily asked, turning around and giving the cheeriest fake laugh she could muster at a time like this. “You’re my best friend. I mean, I love you, but only as a friend. Don’t be ridiculous.”

She watched in dismay as a weight seemed to be visibly lifted off of Bucky’s shoulders as he leaned against one of the couches; his entire demeanor seeming lighter at her denial, and she was so glad she hadn’t been honest with him. If she had confessed how she felt and he had outright rejected her… Well, she didn’t know what she would do, but she knew it wouldn’t be pretty.

“Why would you even ask me such a thing?” she prodded, attempting to hide the desperation in her voice to know how the seed had been planted. “Honestly, how did that idea even get into your head?”

Bucky shrugged. “You just never seem to like any of the girls I date,” he said. “I thought that might’ve been why.”

Lily scoffed. “I can’t help it that your taste in women is terrible, Jamie,” she said, and felt a twinge of satisfaction when he flinched at her words. “And if I’m not mistaken, I’ve yet to be wrong about a single one of them in the end, no matter how great they seemed at the beginning. But that doesn’t mean that I want to be with you.”

She was lying to him through her teeth, and she knew that she should feel bad about it, but right now, nothing seemed more imperative than to protect herself from his rejection.

“I don’t care how much you like this girl, Jamie,” she went on. “It was still an asshole move to leave me hanging so that you could go fuck some slut you barely know.”

“Hey,” he said, rising to his full height and using a tone of voice that he had never used on her before. An angry tone. “I admit, taking off like that and not giving you more warning was not my finest moment, and I am sorry that I hurt your feelings, I really am. But she is not a slut, and I won’t let you call her that.”

Lily blinked at him for a few beats, her mouth hanging open in shock. He had never, not once in the entire four years of their friendship, raised his voice in anger toward her before. It was a little frightening.

And kind of hot.

“Okay,” she said with a sigh, trying to make her voice sound contrite while hoping for maximum pity at the same time. “I’m sorry. Look, I don’t want to fight with you. It just made me feel like you didn’t care about me. Like I don’t matter to you the second something better comes along.” 

Bucky walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Lil,” he said, giving it a gentle squeeze, “you know that’s not true. You’re one of the most important people in my life. I messed up, and I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.”

“I feel like you’ve been saying that to me a lot lately, Jamie,” she said, and was rewarded when she saw him look away from her in shame. She’d cut him a little bit of slack. “How do you plan on making it up to me this time?” she asked with a smile.

Bucky’s entire face lit up, and Lily’s breath hitched. God, but he was beautiful when he smiled at her like that. “I was actually thinking,” he began, moving around the room as he grew excited, “that since I got you so pissed off, what better to get it out of your system than to go destroy some shit at The WarZone?”

Lily just stared at him, shocked. “That’s the place owned by that bitch Natasha invited to the bar on Friday, isn’t it?”

Bucky slowly nodded. “Uh, yeah… Major… Her name’s Major.”

Lily scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Seriously, Bucky? After the way she treated me that night? You can’t honestly expect me to patronize her establishment after the way she humiliated me in front of all of our friends!?”

Bucky frowned at her, and Lily felt something in her stomach twist at his expression. “She didn’t embarrass you, Lil,” he said. “She was just responding to something you said to her first.”

“Well, I don’t care if that’s how you see it,” Lily said defensively. “She was still a nasty bitch to me. I don’t want to have anything to do with her, and I’m sure as shit not going to hang out with you in the business she runs.”

Bucky sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Lil,” he said, as though it were paining him, “it’s really important to me that you make an effort to get along with Major.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Jamie, how could it be that important for me to get along with a random girl you just met the other—” The realization crashed over her like a ton of bricks. “Oh,” was all she could say.

Bucky blushed and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Yeah,” he said almost bashfully. “Major’s the girl I’ve been talking about, Lil. She’s the one I went to see last night.”

Lily’s stomach soured at the realization that Bucky had been sneaking around, lying to her these last few days, in order to go see that fucking bitch. “I—” she began. “You had sex with her Friday night, after you brought her home, didn’t you?”

Bucky nodded, not meeting her eye. He had lied to her face, again.

“I honestly can’t believe you’d put some slut you just met over your best friend, Jamie. That makes this whole thing even worse!”

“She is not a slut, Lily,” Bucky said, his voice clipped in renewed anger. “Don’t you dare call her that!”

“Well, what do you call a girl who sleeps with a guy she’s only known for a couple of hours? Would you prefer ‘tramp,’ or ‘floozy’? Something more in line with your times?”

“I had sex with her after only knowing her for a couple of hours,” Bucky said. “So, I guess you think I’m a slut, too.”

Lily’s eyes went wide at the implication of her words. “Of… of course not, Bucky. I would never insinuate–”

“There’s no difference between what she and I did, because we did it together,” he said. “So, either were both sluts, or neither one of us are.”

This conversation was getting horribly out of Lily’s control. “Look,” she said eventually, trying to get things back on track. If she had any hope of surviving this, she was going to have drastically change her tactics. “I don’t even actually care if you slept with her after only knowing her a few hours.” Oh, but she did, she reminded herself. “I’m pissed because ever since you’ve met this girl, it feels like you’ve done nothing but lie to me and toss me aside. That’s not the Jamie I know, and frankly, your behavior is concerning me.”

Bucky’s face softened, his anger dissipating at her words. “You’re right, Lil. I’ve been a dick, and I promise you, the lying is done. And I’m gonna be more considerate when it comes to communicating with you if I have to cancel plans,” he said.

Lily’s jaw twitched at his choice of words. Not ‘I won’t cancel on you again,’ or even ‘I won’t let this new girl come between us.’ Just a veiled threat that he would bail on her for Major, again and again. She was going to have to play this game very, very carefully if she had any hope of actually breaking them up. That meant, for now, keeping him on her side.

“Thank you, Jamie,” she said, plastering on a hundred watt smile. “You don’t know what that means to  me.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[yawnderu]

Idyllic - Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader

content: fluff, mutual pining, idiots in love, your honor, they love each other.

What is a promise if not the way you fit perfectly in my arms? I can express myself easily and bark out orders at anyone, yet I don't have the courage to ask you out on a date.

''Si?'' Your soft voice takes me away from my thoughts. My heart is in my throat for a second before I look up at you, giving you a silent nod of acknowledgement. I don't dare speak yet, I don't want you to know how enamored I am of you.

''I was thinking... would you like to come home with me for Christmas? Soap and Gaz are going to visit their family, and the old man is going to go fishing.'' I resist the urge to chuckle at the way you refer to Price as ''old man'' and the way your nose scrunches up in slight disgust at the idea of going fishing with him. I look down at the gun I was oiling up absentmindedly, pretending to think about it.

''... sure.'' I finally look back at you, already feeling your eyes burn into me. I feel like I'm being held down by an invisible force that makes my body feel heavy.

''That'd be nice.'' I add, not wanting to seem uninterested, yet not wanting to make you realize how much I like you, despite already knowing you do. I raise an eyebrow as you get closer, your arms wrapping around my waist from behind, the same way you started doing months ago. My hands wrap around yours, fingers intertwined on your much smaller ones.

''I promise it'll be cozy. I'll even let you choose what we eat for breakfast, as long as it's not beans on toast.'' Your voice is slightly muffled as your cheek rests against my back, yet you still manage to drag a soft laugh out of me. All those jabs about me being British never get old, not when they come from you.

''Don't knock it 'til you try it, love.'' I reply teasingly, another quiet laugh coming out my masked lips when you groan loudly and say ''ew''. I don't even like beans on toast, but if teasing me about it makes you talk to me more, I'll keep up with the white lie.

''That's awful. We're eating something that wasn't made when the Germans were flying overhead.'' I roll my eyes, secretly happy that I keep my mask on so you can't see the stupid smile on my face, just like every single time I'm with you.

''Ever tried fish n chips, luv?'' I exaggerate my accent, the cracks on my soul slowly being fixed one by one when I hear you laugh, feeling your body shake softly behind me before you force me to turn around on the chair, your hands carrying their warmth to my cheeks despite the fabric covering them.

''You wanna fuckin' go, lad?'' Your fake and extremely poor impression of a British accent makes my brain melt, but I still find myself leaning my forehead on your shoulder to hide the way my eyes crinkle at your words. Have you been spending too much time with Gaz? Who in the world is teaching you how to be a roadman? It's funny. I bit the inside of my cheek when you broke away and got into a defensive playfight position, already knowing I was in for a treat.

''What was that?'' I get up from the chair, playfully jabbing your shoulder before getting into a fighting position as well. Your body is left unprotected when you laugh, so I take the chance to give you a very soft, mock punch in the stomach, making you laugh harder. ''Fuckin' 'ave it, ya slag.'' I never even knew how much I needed you.

tag list: @rindulacre

[gardenschedule]

John not meaning what he says

You know, we all say a lot of things when we don’t know what we’re talking about. I’m probably doing it now, I don’t know what I say. You see, everybody takes you up on the words you said, and I’m just a guy that people ask all about things, and I blab off and some of it makes sense and some of it is bullshit and some of it’s lies and some of it is — God knows what I’m saying. I don’t know what I said about Maharishi, all I know is what we said about Apple, which was worse.

John Lennon: The Rolling Stone Interview, Part One

“It’s sort of complicated but sometimes you say things, but it’s not really what you meant to say. If I say something to you and you hear it different from what I’ve said it, and you answer back and we’re not really getting down to it. I’m really talking like that you know. Like somebody says ‘do you want ice cream?’ and I’ll say no, and actually I meant yes. You find yourself saying the opposite of what you mean. This happens to me quite a lot. I speak a lot, but what I say is not always what I mean.“

John Lennon, 1973.

‘I was told recently by Yoko that one of the things that hurt John over the years was me going off and doing The Family Way,’ Paul says. The filmmaking Boulting brothers had approached him via George Martin. ‘I thought this was a great opportunity. We were all free to do stuff outside the Beatles and we’d each done various little things.’ When he mentioned it to John, Paul said, ‘He would have had his suit of armour on and said: “No, I don’t mind.”

Paul McCartney, c/o Ray Coleman, McCartney: Yesterday and Today. (1995)

But by the time I arrived, an agitated John was deeply involved indeed. More specifically, he was having a row with Paul and George Martin. “We’ve already done the concept album,” he argued, presumably referring to Pepper. “Why do we need to do another one?” “Look, John, we’re just trying to think symphonically,” George replied. “We’re trying to create a complete work out of song fragments.” John was derisive at first, saying, “You’re taking yourselves too seriously,” but when Paul invited him to contribute some compositions of his own to the medley, he seemed to capitulate. “Well, I might have one or two that could fit,” he said sheepishly. I exchanged glances with Paul. I’m sure we were both thinking the same thing: He’s just been waiting to be asked.

Here, There and Everywhere - Geoff Emerick, Howard Massey

SHEFF: But you didn’t compose your stuff separately, as other accounts have said? JOHN: No, no, no. I said that, but I was lying. [Laughs.] By the time I said that, we were so sick of this idea of writing and singing together, especially me, that I started this thing about, “We never wrote together, we were never in the same room.” Which wasn’t true. We wrote a lot of stuff together, one-on-one, eyeball to eyeball.

John Lennon, interview w/ David Sheff for Playboy. (September, 1980)

PLAYBOY: "When you talk about working together on a single lyric like "We Can Work It Out,' it suggests that you and Paul worked a lot more closely than you've admitted in the past. Haven't you said that you wrote most of your songs separately, despite putting both of your names on them?" LENNON: "Yeah, I was lying. (laughs) It was when I felt resentful, so I felt that we did everything apart. But, actually, a lot of the songs we did eyeball to eyeball."

John Lennon, 1980

“No, no, no,” he answered and he meant it. “I’m going to be an ex-Beatle for the rest of my life so I might as well enjoy it, and I’m just getting around to being able to stand back and see what happened. A couple of years ago I might have given everybody the impression I hate it all, but that was then. I was talking when I was straight out of therapy and I’d been mentally stripped bare and I just wanted to shoot my mouth off to clear it all away. Now it’s different. “When I slagged off the Beatle thing in the papers, it was like divorce pangs, and me being me it was blast this and fuck that, and it was just like the old days in the Melody Maker, you know, ‘Lennon Blasts Hollies’ on the back page. You know, I’ve always had a bit of a mouth and I’ve got to live up to it. Daily Mirror: ‘Lennon beats up local DJ at Paul’s 21st birthday party’. Then we had that fight Paul and me had through the Melody Maker, but it was a period I had to go through.

John Lennon, interview w/ Ray Coleman for Melody Maker: Lennon – a night in the life. (September 14th, 1974)

GEORGE: I remember the day when John did an interview with a certain magazine and said certain things, and then I remember the day when he disagreed with what he’d said, but the man who interviewed him denied him the right to change his mind and, even though it was two and a half years, later still went ahead and published something which John said he no longer agreed with himself on. Which means the dream was over, yet certain people wouldn’t allow him to have his dream... over. Nudge nudge wink wink, say no more. [inaudible] JOHN: In other words, imagine if somebody or if you accidentally bang your head and you shout, “Ow!” – that’s the end of it. [self-conscious; laughs] Right? GEORGE: And he said that too. JOHN: I mean, it doesn’t go on for the next five years, right? And we all did that.

December 21st, 1974 (New York)

INT: It seem that you did minimize a little bit, what the, what the effect was on the, value and lifestyle and all that. You said that there was almost nothing left of Beatles. JOHN: Well I get bitter too, you know. And uh, also it was always the insistence that the Beatles led something, you know. And if anything they were figureheads, you know. And, I put it more succinctly later on when I thought about it. When I said those statements A) I was bitter and upset; emotionally upset cause we just split up, you know. I call it a divorce right. But when I think about it, obviously…you know, I can change my mind.

John interviewed by Jean-François Vallée in April 1975.

Underground journalist Felix Dennis watched the session. ‘I remember Ringo getting more and more upset by this… I have a clear memory of him saying, “That’s enough, John.”’ Lennon and Ono competed to come up with the most insulting lines, Dennis said. ‘Some of it was absolutely puerile. Thank God a lot of it never actually got recorded because it was highly, highly personal, like a bunch of schoolboys standing in the lavatory making scatological jokes.’ ‘John would forgive himself, and expect Paul to forgive him,’ Derek Taylor recalled.

Peter Doggett, You Never Give Me Your Money: The Battle for the Soul of the Beatles. (2009)

I went through a period of trying to encourage Paul by writing and saying things that I thought would spur him on. But I think they were misunderstood. That's how "How Do You Sleep?" (on the "Imagine" album) was intended. Although I suppose it was a bit hard on him.

John Lennon Talks To Ray Connolly May 18th 1972 Radio Times

“At the moment he is cut off from the three of us. The last time I saw him was in December.” Asked whether he thought John Lennon’s recent unkind references to Paul on his “Imagine” album, had deepened the rift, George replied: “Maybe John felt like that about Paul at the time he was writing the song, but he doesn’t feel like that all the time. The song doesn’t represent what he really feels. It’s just John – people don’t really understand. “I think John’s record is great – though that track about Paul is a bit hard. But it’s only something felt at the time . . . ”

George Harrison, interviewed by Mike Hennessey for Record Mirror (October 16, 1971)

JOHN: (smiles) You know, I wasn’t really feeling that vicious at the time. But I was using my resentment toward Paul to create a song, let’s put it that way. He saw that it pointedly refers to him, and people kept hounding him about it. But, you know, there were a few digs on his album before mine. He’s so obscure other people didn’t notice them, but I heard them. I thought, Well, I’m not obscure, I just get right down to the nitty-gritty. So he’d done it his way and I did it mine. But as to the line you quoted, yeah, I think Paul died creatively, in a way.

John’s Playboy interview as published in the magazine’s January 1981 issue

He turned to me and told me that he had been equally vicious about Paul during the same period and that Paul had got it right when he had declared that the only person John was hurting with his vitriolic behavior was himself. It was not exactly an apology, more like an explanation.

Glyn Johns, Sound Man: A Life Recording Hits with the Rolling Stones, the Who, Led Zeppelin, the Eagles, Eric Clapton, the Faces… (2014)

“I have to ask you, what was all that stuff in the telegraph about?... And he’s gone oh yeah, look, speak to Paul about that, I wasn’t in a good place mentally at the time. Just speak to Paul about it…. I thought it was a real cop out because he had hurt me, he’d said something unfair, and rather than just apologise, what he basically said was I’ve apologised to Paul, and Paul’s accepted my apology for for my behaviour in that period, the immediate aftermath of the Beatles, and therefore speak to him and he will explain to you why you should forgive me”.

I am the EggPod guest Sam Delaney talking about a Get Back screening Q&A with Glynn Johns

“I’m trying to be mad at you, but you’re so nice, it isn’t easy,” Glyn replied. Then he explained that he had been upset by John’s comments about him in the “Lennon Remembers” interviews. John had said that Let It Be, which had been re-mixed by Glyn, had wound up sounding awful, and Glyn, a true professional, had been very offended by John’s comments. John did not remember saying it at all and he was very embarrassed. He explained, “I had just done primal therapy. I was just lettin’ off steam. That interview was just a lot of anger.” Glyn stared at John. John’s words had hurt him, and he had never expected that John would not remember what he had said, nor had he perceived that the comments would be dismissed as “just lettin’ off steam.” Like everyone else, he believed everything the public John said and took him very seriously. John repeatedly apologised to Glyn, and eventually the matter was dropped.

Loving John

“John’s most influential interviews, interviews which people took as gospel truth, were for John occasions to blow off steam and then to forget what he had said.”

May Pang, The Lost Weekend

At the time, we at Apple weren’t feeling good anyway, because Apple had failed; and here was one of our friends telling everyone who reads Rolling Stone that we were bastards. In the end we had to say, ‘Well, we’re not.’ John later retracted some of it, and we became friends again. And I forgave him. He would forget he’d said it, and expect to be forgiven, as he always was.

Derek Taylor, interview w/ Peter Doggett for Record Collector. (August, 1988)

John had gone through a tremendous upheaval in his private life, and he was a very odd person at times; he wasn’t at all himself. There was the famous interview he did for Rolling Stone, which has been reprinted many times, in which he says many unfair and untrue things, slagged everybody off, including me. I took him to task over it later on, asking him, “Why did you say all those things? It wasn’t very nice.” He said, “Oh, I was just stoned out of my head.” That was his only apology, really. Unfortunately, that has become history now; it’s accepted as the Bible.”

George Martin, interview w/ Howard Massey for Musician. (February, 1999)

“If you look at interviews and stuff with John, from around about that time he was in Imagine [documentary] he kind of admits that he’s having problems with himself. So, well, the first thing you do when you’re having problems with yourself is you bitch about someone else. And the closest person was me…He had a real go at me. I personally think it was ‘cause he was trying to clear the decks for Yoko. He’s got a new love, he’s trying to say to her, “Look, baby, I love you. I hate those guys.” And I think—you also have to remember John was going through a lot of problems. And you know, as they say, people, when they’re going through problems, come out with that kind of stuff. You know that, we all know that. When you’re in a bad mood, the first thing you do is badmouth somebody else. You don’t want to badmouth yourself…Some of the times, he was having other sorts of problems…So—like most of what John said, I take it with a pinch of salt. I love him still. I don’t care what he said, you know. Even if he badmouths me, I still know that he was a great guy, and that he loved me.”

Paul McCartney

PLAYBOY: In his Playboy Interview, John said that was a song he didn't like and never could have written.

PAUL: Who knows what John liked? You know, John would say he didn't like one thing one minute and the next he might like it. I don't really know what he liked or didn't like, you know! It would depend on what mood he was in on a given day, really, what he would like.... I don't care; I liked it!

Paul McCartney: The Complete Playboy Interview, 1984 (thanks @tavolgisvist for the quote!)

[random-thot-generator]

Reverse Trope Prompt: (see end notes after reading. No peeking!)

Full list here

Ghost x reader

sfw -bit of angst, profanity, a frisky drunk bird but nothing explicit

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

"Looks like LT's pulled 'imself another winner."

Gaz glances over his shoulder, sniffs, then turns back with a cynical curl to his lip. Lifting his pint glass, he slants a knowing look at his fellow sergeant. "He's lost the bloody plot, if ya ask me. Hooks up with every bird he gets his hands on, now." He shakes his head. "'S bloody mental, mate. What the hell is he thinkin'?"

Soap grunts, mouth twisting in disgust as he focuses on his lieutenant and the cackling drunk bird splayed across his lap. "Canna say. Dinnae ken wha's gotten into 'im. Feckin' mad, lettin' a bonnie, good lass go t'chase after sloppy-drunk tarts like tha' one."

"You lads ready for another round?"

Both men flinch at the sound of your voice and glance up at you with guilty expressions. They know you had to have heard what they were saying. Gaz drops his gaze as he nods and pushes his glass across the bar, while Soap tilts his head to study you. You meet his searching blue eyes while you refill Gaz's pint, knowing what's coming. You breathe out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter, Johnny?"

His brows pinch together in a perturbed frown. "Does it no' bother yeh, 'im flauntin' those mingin' slags right in yer face?"

"Jesus, Soap!" Gaz hisses, elbowing him. "Shut ya bloody gob." He then turns his attention back to you, offering an apologetic smile. "Sorry, luv. He's got no filter when he drinks too much."

"Oi! I dinnae need yeh t'make excuses fer meh," Soap fusses, still scowling when he looks back to you. "'M sorry, hen. Dinnae mean t'upset yeh. Jus' think it's no' right, 'im scrapin' yeh off the way 'e did, then comin' in 'ere where yeh work, messin' about with other birds, like 'e does. 'S disrespectful."

Your eyes drift to Ghost, grimacing at the way the woman in his lap is pawing at him, before dropping your eyes to glare at the bar top. "It doesn't matter," you mutter, wiping down the bar with more force than is necessary. "We're over, so he can do what he wants with whoever he wants. I think him breaking things off between us was probably for the best, don't you?"

The two sergeants exchange a look.

Soap huffs and slumps on his bar stool, mumbling into his pint, "Yeh're too good fer 'im, anyway." He knocks the last of his stout back with an angry sneer.

Gaz nods in agreement, his eyes sympathetic when he adds, "Ya can do better, luv. Deserve someone who'll treat ya right."

You try to smile, but it's fake, brittle. "Seriously, it's alright. I'm over it. Really."

You can tell that neither of them believes you.

Your call for last orders goes out a few minutes later, and the few customers left in the pub begin to drift towards the door. Gaz and Soap are settling up their tabs when Ghost steps up behind them, the giggling drunk bird tucked under his arm. His dark eyes slide over you, like you're not even there.

"'M headin' out, lads. I'll see the two'uh ya back at base. Gonna take 'er 'ome," he tells the sergeants, nodding down at the bleary-eyed bird glued to his side.

Gaz give a curt nod, avoiding eye contact. Soap makes a scoffing noise in the back of his throat. "Aye. Jus' keep rubbin' 'er nose in it," he mutters, then sniffs, shaking his head. "Steamin' Jaysus."

Ghost tenses, eyes narrowing over his face mask. "Ya gotta problem, sergeant?"

Just as Soap's mouth opens to reply, you clear your throat, breaking the tense moment. "How 'bout a bag of crisps to soak up all that alcohol, Johnny? My treat."

His head swivels around to look at you, the scowl slowly melting off his face when he sees your worried expression. He blows out a breath. "Aye. Thanks, bon." He side-eyes Ghost, then looks away. "See ya later, LT," he mumbles.

The drunk bird makes a whining noise, tugging at Ghost's jacket. "C'mon, luv. Leh's gooo. 'M ready t'get home." She then gives him a drunken, lewd grin, pressing up against him. "Ya can help me get these tights off, yeah?" she whispers to him, waggling her eyebrows.

Ghost grunts a laugh, seemingly amused. "Cheeky muppet. Olright. Let's get outta here."

You busy yourself with wiping down the bar as Ghost leads the tottering woman out the door, then toss your towel down once he's gone. Snagging two bags of crisps for the sergeants, you hand one to each of them.

"Here ya go," you murmur. "Need me to call a taxi for ya?"

"No thanks, luv," Gaz replies softly, sliding off his stool. "I already ordered us an Uber. Let's go, Soap."

Soap stands, his crisps clutched in his hand. He's scowling, shaking his head. "'E's a bloody eejit," he mutters.

You finally wave goodbye to the two sergeants, locking up behind them once you usher them out the door. Blowing out a tired breath, you lean back against it and stare down at your trainers.

"God, I'm glad this night is over," you mumble to yourself, then heave another sigh before heading back to the bar, ready to close up for the night and get out of there.

The drive home is short, just a couple blocks away, but it still gives you too much time to think. This is by far the worst break-up you've ever been through. None of your work mates or friends can seem to go a day without mentioning it. Even worse, Simon's mates won't let it go, either.

You appreciate their support, but seriously wish that Soap and Gaz would stop bringing Simon up, altogether. It's hard enough watching the big lug flirting with birds right under your nose. You don't need Soap pointing it out to you, or Gaz giving you those sad, pitying looks all night.

You try to shake off your negative thoughts as you park and walk to your flat. It's sweet that the lads are trying to be there for you, but you hope that they'll just let it go soon. Maybe you should just tell them you're seeing someone else. It might help put their minds at ease, get them to back off a little bit.

Once inside your flat, you toe off your trainers and turn on the lights, then pad into the kitchen. Putting some leftovers in the microwave, you shuffle off to take a quick shower while it's heating, hoping the hot water will soothe away some of your stress.

As you're toweling off, you hear your front door open and then close. Hurrying to get dressed, you open the bathroom door, the smell of yesterday's shepherd's pie hitting your nose. You hear the clatter of plates and utensils coming from the kitchen as you pace down the short hallway and peek around the corner. You stop when you reach the doorway, leaning your shoulder against the jamb and crossing your arms over your chest.

"Took you awhile to get here. Thought you might've decided to stay the night with that bird, after all."

Simon sets the leftover shepherd's pie he just took out of the microwave on the table, smirking. Tossing down the potholders, he comes to you, his big arms wrapping around your body to pull you close before his head dips to give you a kiss.

"Took forever t'get 'er outta the bloody truck an' into 'er flat. 'Ad t'fight 'er off'uh me the whole way there, too, the handsy git." He rumbles out a low chuckle. "She was right pissed when I left without helpin' 'er outta those tights."

You huff, cutting him a snarky look. "Yeah, I bet." You frown, sliding your hands down his chest. "I wish we didn't have to do this, Si. I don't like seeing other women all over my man, and I hate lying to everyone, especially Johnny and Kyle."

He sighs, lifting a hand to cradle your face. "I know, sweet'art, but it won't be f'much longer. Cap says Nik's almost got all of our documents an' passports in order. When it's time, we'll loop Gaz an' Johnny in. My next mission out, Ghost will be reported KIA, an' once he's laid t'rest, it'll finally be over. No more sneakin' around, no more lyin'. We'll 'ave new identities, a new life." He hugs you tighter. "An' I can finally provide my missus wiff a proper 'ome."

"Si..."

His eyes go lazy and warm as he slides his hand down to cover your belly. "Gotta 'ave a proper 'ome, love. 'S why we're doin' this. Wanna be free an' clear a'fore the li'l nipper gets 'ere. Yeah?"

You gaze up into your husband's eyes, a hopeful smile spreading across your face. You plant a kiss on his smirking lips and nod.

"Yeah."

-

End notes - *shrugs* I didn't want to spoil the ending. 😉

reverse trope: Instead of fake dating, everyone is convinced that you aren’t actually dating

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Part 2 to: The Lieutenant's Whore

Dom!Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader, John "Soap" Mactavish x fem!Reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" Mactavish, Reader

Summary: Hearing what he shouldn't have, Johnny is rightfully angry and what does he let that anger lead to? A bad attitude that leads to even worse decisions. As you confront him about this sudden change in demeanor, things start to heat up. What happens when Simon finds out? Actions have consequences and Johnny is about to learn that you will only ever belong to the man behind the mask.

Word Count: 11.6 k

Warnings:

The promise of going one more round had kept you in Simon’s bed, completely naked and filthy as you eagerly waited for him to get hard again. Another shared cigarette was being passed between you both to wile away the time so there was no real need for conversation; you didn’t come here to have a heart to heart, though you would have waited for hours and hours if it meant you could experience even more of the depravity that had just transpired.

As the burning smoke was exhaled out of your lungs and past your lips, a thought popped into that devious little head of yours. “You do realize that it’s the weekend, don’t you?” you questioned him casually as you passed back the cig for him to take a drag.

Simon placed the stick between his lips and drew the poison deep into his chest. “What of it?” he questioned back before he upturned his eyes at you with a smirk on his lips, letting you know that he was on to your train of thought. “You got somewhere to be, luv?”

You chuckled. “I sure do,” you played as you moved yourself onto him to straddle his lap between your thighs. You held up your fingers to count off things one by one. “Let’s see, where do I start? There’s on my back, on my knees, bent over with my ass in the air. It’ll probably take a couple days to get to it all.”

Simon shook his head with a roll of his eyes as he dug his meaty fingers into the bulk of your ass before giving it a swift smack. “So what I’m hearing is that I’m going to be absolutely knackered come Monday, is that it? Does my little slag want me to keep her dicked down all weekend?”

“As if you had a fucking choice,” you said with a devious smirk, “though it is easier to have you on board of your own volition. Do you know how hard it was waiting to do this again? Oh, no you’re gonna make it up to me and my sore fingers by keeping me busy for the next two days.”

As if he was ever going to say no to that proposition; as long as you both stayed locked up in here, no one would notice that you two had started something that would not be easily stopped. “You goin’ soft on me already? Can’t stand to think ‘bout bein’ away yet?” Simon picked mercilessly.

“You wish, bitch,” you didn’t even miss a tick, “there’s only one thing I’d miss and it’s situated between my legs right now.”

For emphasis, you rocked your hips over that meaty appendage and felt a twitch. Coming back from the dead already. Good, you’d give it a bit more to make sure that it would keep growing. Once it was quite stiff, you stopped rolling your hips and sat still; he was gonna pay for that remark.

“But, I need to grab a few things from my room before we go again,” you continued. “I will need to clean myself from time to time and lord knows I’m not about to use whatever 5-in-1 you have rotting away in the back of your shower.”

Of course you’d pull this shit the minute his cock was almost fully hard again. Fucking infuriating skank, why the hell did you make him enjoy the torture so goddamn much? Your palms were against his bare chest for leverage as you were about to move back off of him, when his hand firmly clasped around your chin to keep you in place. Going toe to toe with you since last night had been a thrill and even now he enjoyed matching your energy.

“Fine, I’ll let you go, but you’ve got approximately ten minutes to get your shit and get that sweet arse back here,” he said, drawing your face into his until his lips were nearly on your own. His breath was harsh from the tobacco, but you didn’t care; you liked him best filthy. “Best hurry, luv, cause if I’m left waitin’ with this stiffy any more than what I’ve fuckin’ given you, I’ll make you ride the tip of my boot with your bare pussy until you’re beggin’ and pleadin’ with me to do you proper.”

Fuck. That was enough motivation to get your heart racing and ready to go and you quickly swung your leg off of him so you could exit the bed. His eyes stayed glued to your back as you went in search of your discarded clothing that lay scatter around his floor. As you redressed, those auburn eyes traced the outline of your bare ass until it vanished behind the tight fabric of your jeans.

“Hate to see you leave, but goddamn is it a fuckin’ pleasure to watch you go,” Simon purred through the billowing smoke of another cigarette as he watched you throw back on your disheveled shirt so you could make it across base without gathering an indecent exposure charge.

You shot him one more quick glance before rushing off. He had pulled the sheet up just over his legs and lap as he lay propped up against the wall with his arm behind his head. It was hidden behind the fabric, but you could still see the outline of his cock starting to tent it up and that only made you want to hurry even more. No sense in wasting all that for some clean clothes and a bit of shower gel.

It was still pretty early as you stepped outside Simon’s quarters, the sun’s first light had barely even started to lighten the sky yet so you felt sure that no one would be skulking around to see you leave. Not after last night anyway; most of the others were probably just tucking in to sleep off the booze. You crossed through the base with not a care in the world other than getting back to what was waiting for you beneath the covers.

What you could not have known was that someone close by had heard the sound of the Lieutenant’s door opening and you making your way out. Soap had wanted nothing more than to sleep off not just the alcohol, but the sinking feeling in his chest at what he had stumbled upon earlier in the evening; his mind had other plans though and after sitting in the silence of his room, letting the agitated thoughts run rampant through his mind, he had decided to leave before he worked himself up more than he already was and did something really fucking stupid.

A striking set of blue eyes clocked you nearly running through the base back to your barracks, still wearing the same damn clothes you had on the night before. Soap bristled at the sight as he felt that burning anger welling up in his stomach once again, which only got worse when he saw you exiting the barracks in the same quick manner with a bag now strapped to your shoulder.

He didn’t want to, but quietly he followed behind just out of sight and sure enough you were returning right back to the Lieutenant's room just as he feared. As he watched Simon meet you at the door with just the sheet from his bed barely clinging to his hips and drag you back inside, he felt his heart sink straight into his feet as his fists balled themselves tightly together.

If this was a one and done thing, a drunken mistake that you had let run its course, then Johnny was sure he could get another chance to win you over. But seeing you return to that room destroyed any hope he had that he would get the opportunity to show you that he could give you an experience just as spectacular as what he had heard through the walls in that brief moment.

Kicking the dirt beneath his boots, he stormed off back to his private quarters and entered with an agitated huff as he slammed the door behind him; he couldn’t risk anyone seeing him like this and asking their dumb questions that would surely rotten his mood even further. The wall shook as the door made impact within its frame, the percussive sound reverberating off the walls. “Fucking pussy,” the Scot cursed himself. “Ye lost yer chance at her because ye had to be a lovesick pup. All fur whit?”

Cracking his knuckles before re-clenching his fists, he pulled back his arm and released it directly into the wall. It was enough to make the wall give, but luckily not enough to leave a permanent mark. “Now she’s getting fucked by that bastard,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “That was suppose tae be us in my bed. ‘twas mah name she was suppose tae be moanin’.”

His anger was supposed to be directed at himself, as there was no other that was to blame. Who was the one that pussyfooted around the topic whenever it seemed to present itself? Who was the one that got to worked up at times to meet your obvious flirting with some of their own? And who was the motherfucker that decided to let you leave the bar that night without even asking you if you wanted to go back to his, when you had been all over him all night? All of it was Johnny’s fault in the end.

It was clear he had let his crush mess with his head and though he should have taken the loss and moved on, his mind decided it would rather put that anger towards someone else and that new target would have to be the Lieutenant; he was the one that got to have you while Johnny sat alone with only his hand to keep him satisfied.

So now Simon would have to deal with Johnny’s wrath. And he made sure to start putting that aggression to good use before the day was even out.

Sweat was pouring and limbs were entwined, cock pumping in and out of a tight hole when several hours later a loud knock sounded through the room, making you startle with a jump and Simon grumble with agitation. Try as he might to regain composure to continue, it was shattered when again a loud bang rang out.

Pulling out of you and hopping out of bed in a flurry of anger as he threw on a pair of sweatpants laying near to cover himself, he crossed the room and wrenched the door open only to be met with - nothing. He stuck his head out to look around the area, but it was quiet and undisturbed with not a soul in sight, which only pissed him off more.

You silently listened, curious as to what the intrusion to the middle of your screwing was, but there wasn’t a sound. With a grumble under his breath Simon shut the door and made his way back to you. “Fuckin’ nothing,” he confirmed, slipping quickly back out of his pants and joining you under the covers.

“Whatever it was, it’s done now,” you said trying to get him to focus back on the task at hand. “We probably needed a breather anyway.”

“Done already, sweetheart?” he smirked, setting the tone back to what it was before you were both so rudely interrupted. Frustration be damned, there was still fun to be had.

You shook your head before extending your finger and poking it straight into the middle of his chest. “Now you’re just wasting time. Get back inside me before you regret it.”

And just like that he was back in the moment as he shoved you onto your back, getting between those legs once again like the good little soldier he was to pepper your tits with a flurry of kisses.

Before evening hit that same instance happened twice more, always when you both were in the thick of it when things were the most heated and not easily stopped; it wasn’t as if you weren’t taking breaks, but whenever those long stretches of time came around, they passed by undisturbed. It was clear that someone was doing this on purpose, but the question was why? You were going out of your way to be as quiet as you could, though there were a few times you just couldn’t help it. Still, if someone had a problem with the sound, why not just say something since no one knew you were in there?

It was all very strange, but since the perpetrator couldn’t be caught you tried not to give it more mind; no sense in ruining your weekend. That was until you entered the dining hall that night for supper with Simon in toe like your own personal scary guard dog, and you noticed a significant shift in the atmosphere.

Not wanting to draw attention to the fact that you and Simon were in close proximity and hoping to keep the status quo so that your little secret wouldn’t be found out, you had decided to sit and eat separately. It wasn’t what either of you wanted, but you’d be back in each others company soon enough after you refueled.

Looking through the hall for a place to sit, you caught sight of Soap sitting off from the main group he usually hung with. It struck you as odd; it wasn’t like him to eat alone. Grabbing your food, you made your way over to him and took up a spot by his side. There was a noticeable shift in him the moment you stepped near; where he had been close and talkative before, now there was distance and silence that filled the space between your bodies as he didn’t even bother to greet you. That was not normal at all.

“Hey you, fancy meeting you here.”

You watched as his back tensed as if he had been spooked, caught off guard from being lost in deep thought, but he did not say anything in return to your greeting.

“Everything alright?” you asked as you took your seat, setting your food down and turning your body to face him in your seat with a curious eyebrow raised.

Soap quickly looked at you before he diverted his gaze into his plate, messing about the food with the tip of his fork. It looked as if he hardly had even take a bite yet. “Fine,” he answered curtly, still not meeting your eyes.

It sounded off to you and the whole thing just felt wrong, though maybe you were simply reading too much into it. The alcohol had been plenty last night and it was possible the Sargent had just overdone it after you had left the bar. That was a rare occurrence for sure, but it did happen every once and a while; perhaps last night was just another time you could add to the tally. Nudging him in the ribs with your elbow, you tried to cut the tension with a joke.

“Did the liquor make you her bitch?” you picked, expecting the usual cheeky comeback about him being able to hold his own, but you were only met with him jerking away while his spine visibly bristled at your touch.

He cleared his throat. “No.”

The reply felt even shorter than the prior one and whether or not he was going to admit to anyone right now, something was definitely wrong. “Okay, okay,” you said as you held your hands up in surrender, “just trying to make conversation, but I can see you’ve got your fucking knickers in a twist.”

Nothing, not even a smirk. Whatever it was that got to him had really sunk its fangs in deep. Fine, no more picking since that seemed to only make it worse. Maybe a deviation in conversation would work better.

Picking up your own fork, you began to mess about with the food on your plate. “You know, I really had a good time with you last night. We really need the team to get out more often when we have the time so we can have more fun together.”

The clang from his fork hitting his plate as he threw it down caused those around to look up at the both of you. The suddenness of his action shut you up as you waited to see what he would do next. Quickly he stood from his seat and gathered his things, still without ever making eye contact; he wasn’t going to sit there and listen to anymore of this inane bullshit, not when he was actively trying his best to forget the way you felt against him and all that pent up sexual tension he couldn’t hope to explore anymore.

“Ah gotta go,” he muttered as he left you sitting there, wondering what the hell happened.

You watched him leave the hall before you turned your sight over to Simon sitting not far from you and shot him a look of ‘what the fuck’, which was only met with a subtle shrug. He had noticed the unusual interaction as well, though you knew his feelings about you and Soap, so it wasn’t much consequence to him that he was leaving you alone now. At least he wouldn’t be trying anything with you again as long as he was away.

Still, with the incidents earlier, it was just too much of a coincidence to fully ignore the change in him. You ended up eating in silence just thinking over everything that had happened since the bar in hopes that maybe you could figure it out, but by the time you were finished you had nothing and so you let it be. Besides, Simon was already staring at you, waiting for you to discreetly follow him back to that den of sin that would be your residence for another day so you could end the weekend on a good note.

And what a glorious fucking time it was. The knocking only happened once more and Simon had not even stopped that time. “If it’s important, they’ll fuckin’ say so,” he had grunted as his pace didn’t even slow while he continued pounding into you.

Those sheet were absolutely ruined by the time you were both finished, covered in enough stains to create an entirely new pattern on the fabric, though neither of you were complaining; you didn’t have the strength to. Shit, it was a bitch to even think about leaving, though you knew that you had the privilege back that whenever the mood struck again all you had to do was come find him.

And yet even though you were going to leave there completely and utterly satisfied, something was still eating away at you and it had everything to do with a certain Scot with a newfound sour attitude.

“Something is seriously up with him,” you conjectured as you were drying off after just getting out of the shower, before you were set to get dressed and leave. “I have a sneaking fucking feeling he knows something is up. I think I should talk to him before this gets out of hand. I’ll probably try and catch him some time this week for a little chat; if he does have suspicions we don’t need him spreading that shit around.”

“Probably should avoid being alone with him when you do it,” Simon added.

You paused. “Is that for my benefit or yours?” you shot him a knowing look.

He stared right back at you. “Yours if you know what’s fuckin’ good for ya,” he said firmly. “He’s livid now, but there’s no sense in risking him tryin’ to get close to ya again.”

“Oh, possessive much?” you chided him. “I can handle myself.”

Getting up from his seat on the bed, he moved in and his aggressive kiss hit your mouth quickly. “Never said you couldn’t,” he returned as he broke the connection. “But I don’t want no manky bastard tryin’ anything with you, ever. I meant what I said, sweetheart.”

You kissed him back once more. “I’ll be fine.”

A swift smack to your backside punctuated your kiss. “Fine,” he conceded. “Now, get your arse outta here before I change my mind about lettin’ you go back to your bed.”

It was a few days before you found the time to actually address the Soap situation, as whenever you went looking for him the man could not be found. Literally, you would hang around his usual places, hoping to casually run into him and strike up conversation, but it wasn’t happening.

It wasn’t till the middle of the week when opportunity presented itself and found you at the right place and time. As you were passing through the superior’s offices on other business that evening, you saw it just out of the corner of your eye. The bright, florescent overhead light shone from inside his office; he seemed to be the last one still there, working late. Immediately you jumped at the chance to confront him, your feet carrying you quickly in that direction before he had the possibility to evade you once again. Whatever this was that persisted between you both was going to get resolved one way or another right here and fucking now.

Rapid fire knocks upon the open door to his small office made Johnny look up from his seated position behind his desk where he sat busy with paperwork and the moment his sight clocked you, his eyes widened in surprise.

“Can I come in?” you asked.

Johnny immediately diverted his gaze just as he had been, his emotions getting the better of him. “Ah’m kind o’ busy at the moment,” he brushed off your question as he pretended to busy himself with the papers on his desk, but you weren’t satisfied with that.

You took a deep breath as you stepped over the threshold. “Look, I think we need to talk.”

“Ah dinnae think we do,” he scoffed back.

See, again this wasn’t normal. There was no way in hell the old Johnny wouldn’t jump at the fucking chance to engage in chitchat if it meant you would stick around. Something had crawled up his ass, that was certain, you just didn’t know what.

“Johnny,” you said, brow furrowed at this sudden shift in attitude towards you lately. “What’s goin-”

“It’s Sargent tae ye,” he snapped, immediately shutting you up and cutting you off before anymore could be uttered, “’n’ ye’ll do well tae mind that.”

“Well excuse me,” you said angrily, instantly agitated by the way he had just jumped down your throat unprovoked. “What the fuck has got into you lately? Maybe you want to fill me in as to why all of a sudden you want to act like a bitch and pull this rank shit with me? I thought we were friends.”

“Friends?” he repeated the word with a sneer.

“Yes, friends,” you reiterated. “Ya know, pals? Good buddies? Or was I wrong?”

You had come here under the best of intentions, to clear the air of whatever the hell was going on, but his sudden hostility towards you changed all that without a second thought. Johnny wanted to continue with this bullshit then you were going to match that energy; you weren’t one to be fucked with. Even still, you needed to get down to the bottom of just how much he knew and fast.

What he said then took you by surprise. “What? Ah thought ye got wet by men in higher ranks,” the statement slipped angrily from his lips.

“Excuse me.”

Finally he looked back up into your face. “Did ye think ah wouldn’t fin’ oot about what it is ye’re up tae, hmm?” he questioned. “Aboot ye ‘n’ Ghost getting far tae familiar. Oh, thought yer wee secret was safe did ye?”

You stared back at him, furious. How the hell had he found out about that? Had he been following you when you didn’t realize it? You swore you’d been more than careful at keeping all that on the downlow. “I knew you were sweet on me, but fuck Johnny, you stalking me now?”

He shook his head. “Maybe ye should learn how tae fuck more quietly, lass,” he scoffed. “Ye’re lucky the whole base didnae hear ye taking th’ Lieutenant like a fuckin’ whore the other night, though now that ah think aboot it maybe they should. Maybe Price would like tae hear aboot this gross miss use o’ rank manipulation by one o’ his favorites.”

Oh, so this is what it was all about…that bit alone made it blatant; it was him that had been trying to sabotage you getting dicked good by the big man on base and it was all because he was jealous. His snide, underhanded comment made that crystal clear. You should have seen this coming a mile away, what with how he was practically in your pants at the bar that night, but being blinded by an overabundance of top quality dick can make anyone blind. Still, you never thought he would go as far as to threaten you; honestly you didn’t think he had it in him and it caught you slightly off-guard.

“Why don’t you just shut up and admit it,” you shot back with white hot aggression at his weak attempt at blackmail. “Admit that the only reason you’re standing here right now acting like this is because you didn’t get to tap it first. You had your chance the other night, do you know that? Shit, you had even more chances than that if we’re both being honest, it’s not my fault you didn’t jump on any of them. You snooze you loose, bitch, and now it’s the Lieutenant that gets all this to himself.”

Johnny had never been jealous of the masked man before the other night, but hearing that he had squandered his chances to have you only made his blood boil in his veins. All the time you had both spent together, all the flirting, was it all for nothing because he wasn’t headstrong enough to be his usual cocky self and go after what he wanted?

And then the bar, he hated to think it, but was that all a part of some big game? He had had his suspicions the way Simon had stormed out of there that night and you following not long after, but so entranced by your company he was that he let it slide. Now that he really thought it through it was something he had to push out of his mind because he knew he might not like the answer if he thought about it for much longer.

Cheeks burning and mouth dry, his emotions got the better of him and Johnny couldn’t stop the shit spewing forth from his mouth as he rose to stand on his feet. “Ye think ye’ve won th’ lottery, dinnae lass? Sure, L.T. might be able tae give yer body what it needs, I dinnae know what kind o’ game he’s got, but what aboot when he’s finished? Ye think he’s really th’ best option tae keep aroond?” he questioned, as he moved out from around his desk, closing the distance between you both with a few steps. “A’ve been soft aroond ye because of my feelin’s, but if ye wanted someone tae treat ye like a slag in th’ bedroom all ye had to do was say so. But what aboot after that though? How aboot also bein’ treated like a princess in public, cause if that’s th’ case yer lookin th’ wrong direction Bonnie. L.T. dinnae seem the type for that sort o’ thing.”

“And what if I like being treated as only a toy and nothing more, hmm?” you pressed him. “Maybe I don’t want to be your princess; maybe I like being a whore?”

Damn, he knew you were rough around the edges, a strong broad who knew exactly what she wanted, but something about a girl who wasn’t about to let a man make her feel weak in any sense of the word only made him want you more. Tough women who posed a challenge to win over made the Scotsman weak in the knees.

“An what aboot when he gets tired of ye, hmm? Ye know he will. Ye gonna come crawlin back tae me then?”

You smirked; god, he was trying his hardest to slide his way between you and Simon. Could you really blame him? No, but that didn’t make his disrespect any less. “Is this your angle? Talk shit and think it’s gonna change my mind, like I don’t know what the hell I’m getting myself into. Cause that’s pathetic.”

The corner of his lip upturned. “Na, pathetic is th’ way I’d have ye begging me fur more before Ah’m done, baby girl.”

Well damn, that wasn’t half bad, you thought with a chuckle. Eyes locked to his, you gave him a impressed nod. “I almost believed you, good job,” you praised his performance mockingly. “But I’m not some little girl that you can just throw on the charm and seduce; you think you know the type of woman I am, but you’ve only hit the tip of the iceberg baby. You gonna talk a big game, big man, you gonna have to live up to it.”

“Who says ah cannae?” he pushed back. “Maybe ye dinnae know me as well as ye think ye do either. Maybe ye’re afraid tae admit how much you want me.”

As if you had so easily forgotten how he used to act before his little heart had grown attached to you; like you hadn’t been there times before where he had picked up a girl from the bar, using not only the charm of his quick wit, but his slick attitude to win her over. Perhaps he had forgotten that you had not always been the object of his desire, but that was besides the point.

Johnny was trying to cross a dangerous line with you and that would not stand, not one fucking bit. Offended wasn’t the words because let’s be honest, being lusted after was anything but euphoric. However, if he thought he could come between you and Simon he had another thing coming; no matter what he did, there was no way you would not be immediately running back to the ghost-masked man of your desire. That didn’t stop you from playing the game though.

“I’m genuinely curious now since you want to talk your bullshit,” you said. “I know you have a cocky streak in you a mile wide so come on, let’s see it; show me what you got if you have the balls for it. Cash in on the checks that that mouth of yours is making. But, you know if ‘he’ finds out what you’re doing its not gonna end well for you.”

You thought calling his bluff would make him back down, but your challenge had the opposite effect now. The short distance that still existed between you both was now reduced to nothing and you could feel a muscular arm sneaking its way around your hip towards your back before he sharply snapped it back into himself with you in its grasp, pressing your body fully up against him. “Ah’m not scared o’ th’ likes o’ him.”

“You should be,” you smirked. “You think he likes to share? If you’re not careful you are gonna be in a lot of pain.”

That hand at your waist slithered its way down to your ass, where he palmed it and gave it a tight squeeze over your pants as he made your hips grind against him. “A’m done talkin aboot him ‘n’ what he wants,” Johnny said. “How aboot we talk aboot if ye want me tae stop.”

Fuck, the air suddenly felt thick with forbidden lust and though you would never belong to anyone other than Simon, it was hard not respond to Johnny’s overwhelming intensity for you in that moment. His other hand not currently gripping your ass found its way to the back of your head and he laced his fingers through the strands of your hair where he held them locked down before pulling to make your head jerk back and expose your neck.

Leaning in, his breath wafted over the tender flesh down towards your collar bone. Nostrils caught the sweet scent of your perfume mixed with your natural musk and it made his head spin. “Ye think ye know whit a’m capable o’, Bonnie, but ye have no idea. Why dinnae show ye just a taste o’ it? Think ye can handle it?”

You stayed silent as he brought his head in closer towards your own, his lips inching in towards your mouth steadily. Confident and headstrong looked good on him; he should have started with that from the beginning and maybe you both would have moved past friends sooner, but now that you knew what true domination felt like, he could never hope to live up to that. As good as you felt in his arms, there was no forgetting the man who was consistently making you come.

“Please, can I handle it?” you mocked. “I’d have you whimpering on your fucking knees in an instant if I wanted to.”

“We’ll see aboot that, lass,” he said as his lips were almost upon yours, his growing hard-on pressing into the bulk of your thigh. Desperate boy, you thought. The warm, sticky heat moistening the air around your mouths from your mixed breaths, his grip on the back of your head tightening as he agonizingly rendered the distance between you to near zero, made your pulse quicken in response under his touch. Just before that first connection…his lips nearly there…you could almost taste him…a voice boomed into the room from the door making you both jump.

“Mactavish!” a gruff voice bellowed out from right at the doorway, making the Scot’s head turn with a snap towards its source. “What the fuck do you think you’re doin’? You off your goddamn rocker?”

There he was in all his glory, the owner of your cunt, standing there menacingly as he took up the entirety of the exit with his size; his eyes flared with an overwhelmingly intense hatred for the man currently putting his hands all over what belonged to only him.

Leaning in towards his ear as Johnny kept his sight on a pissed off and fuming Simon, you chuckled low and seductive. “Uh oh, someone’s in trouble,” you said in sing song fashion. “Told ya.”

Stalking inside with a huff as his pulse raced through his veins to make his body shake, Simon slammed the door to the office shut behind him and locked it, securing all three of you inside until he decided when and if he would release you. That strong jaw shifted back and forth under his mask as he ground his teeth together to stop the rage that would surely make him end up in military police custody for homicide from consuming him, though if Johnny didn’t let you go soon those twitching muscles in his forearm from his clenched fist would soon be connecting with whatever he could get his hands on.

“This doesn’t concern ye L.T.,” Johnny spat, still clinging to you tightly, “I sugges’ ye leave.”

“Fuck no, this directly involves me,” Simon hissed, cracking his knuckles that were itching to bash his skull in. The vitriol in his voice had enough of an acidic bite in it that it could have burned a hole through the fucking floor. “You currently have your filthy mitts all over something that doesn’ belong to ya. I sugges’ if you want to keep those hands attached to your goddamn arms you will get them off ‘er, now.”

“Ah think she can decide fur hers-,” Johnny tried to hold his ground, but that was not about to last. There was no chance in hell he could out intimidate the master of intimidation.

Simon cut him off abruptly before he could continue with this blatant disrespect by getting directly into his face, planting his boots firmly into the ground in case he needed to take more drastic action to get the bastard to release you back to him. The hate-filled glare that bore into Johnny’s eyes made a sneaky shiver run up his spine. “Do you think this is a fucking game, mate?” Simon threatened low and menacing, his accent getting more heavy with his growing anger. “I am not fuckin’ playin ‘round here. Get your filthy fuckin’ hands off of what isn’t yours. Now.”

The rage brewing within Simon’s words were not meant to be taken lightly and as he wasn’t about to move until you were free, there was nothing more he could do. Looking back towards you once again, Johnny bit his lip hard to stop himself from popping off without thinking things through and ripped his hand out from around the small of your back and off your hip.

“Come ‘ere,” Simon snapped his fingers at you and you shot Johnny one last look of ‘I did try to warn you’ as you crossed in front of him towards your lover.

Christ, that was too close for comfort and Simon needed to re-stake his claim right then and fucking there before he lost his goddamn mind; you were his. His. And Johnny was going to have to understand that right this fucking minute. Keeping this whole thing a secret only worked when no one was trying to worm their way between you both, now that Simon had seen with his own two eyes how his treasure had almost been stolen by someone he called friend he couldn’t see straight; he had to rectify this now and there was only one way.

He had to make his claim known without a shadow of a doubt to the one trying to undermine it.

Once you were within range, Simon grabbed you and spun you around quick; flinging your back at the wall before he pinned you against it. The full weight of his body pressed you into to surface as if he were trying to fuse you into it. In the same breath, his customary mask was wrenched above his mouth and he wasted not even a second before he took your lips heated and greedily with force.

Johnny had not kissed you, Simon’s sudden intrusion had made quite sure of that, but the bastard’s lips were near enough that that hulking beast of a man had to remove even the specter of their touch by taking them with a dizzying intensity that left you clenching your thighs. Goddamn was he grateful that a sudden knot in his stomach had told him to come find you; if he would have waited and Johnny had gotten to you he would have lost his fucking mind.

“Fine,” Johnny growled angrily at this garish pissing contest that he was being forced to witness as you both had him blocked in; screw this small ass office. “Ye’ve proven yer fucking point. Ah got th’ message. Now, how aboot ye get th’ fuck oot.”

Simon ignored everything around him except for you, his lips too busy performing that intricate dance of back and forth, connecting and reconnecting over and over with your full lips again and again until your mouth burned with the friction. Hands roaming your body, following curves that he knew by touch alone, periodically smashing up against you, a whimper escaped from you and Simon readily drank it down. You closed your eyes as you let him fill you with his possessiveness; this is why you could never ever belong to another.

“Did ye hear me?” Johnny piped up once more, done watching someone else make you come apart at the seams. He wanted you both out, now. “Ah said ah got it; Ah’ll leave her alone. Ye can fuckin go.”

One more hard, lingering kiss was left across your mouth before Simon broke the connection and paused a moment to admire his handiwork. Your lips, bright red and swollen from his assault, your cheeks blossoming with color, with the lust-drunk look plastered on your face, all made up the perfect picture. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Does he know?” Simon posed the question under his breath.

You nodded as you held Simon’s gaze. “Pretty much all of it,” you confirmed that there was no sense in hiding anything anymore as Johnny was aware of your involvement with each other.

“You want me to go, really? For what? So that you can try this shit again ‘nother time?” Simon challenged while keeping his eyes solely on you. “Sure, you’ll cool down for a bit, but let’s be honest mate; take a look at her, you aren’t gonna stay ‘way for long. No, no one’s going anywhere. Ya haven’t learned well enough yet, but that’s gonna be rectified right here and fuckin’ now.”

Giving your lower lip one last quick nip, he released you from his grip and turned to face his Judas. Brows furrowed and eyes narrowed, Johnny’s posture shifted as he stared back, waiting to see what Simon would do. His palms grew sweaty as Simon moved back towards him, pointing a thick finger hotly towards the chair stationed behind Johnny’s desk.

The idea came to him in a split second as rationality had fled when the anger had settled in, a nugget of a thought that was born that first night you and Simon had rekindled your passion for fucking each other’s brains out, and now it returned to the forefront of his thoughts. The way you nearly vibrated with excitement on top of him that night when he brought it up, he knew you would be more than game for it if he suggested it now; of course his perfect little whore would want nothing more than to please him.

“That type of disrespect isn’t gonna fuckin’ fly with me,” Simon hissed. “You knew she was not up for the takin’ and yet you still tried. Now you are gonna pay; you’re gonna sit there and watch as I fuck her right on your desk. You’re gonna listen as she screams my name and see first hand just why she is mine and mine alone.”

This was ridiculous; as if Johnny were just going to stay here and take this shit. “Ye cannae do this,” Johnny said in protest, but it was in vain as Simon was not going to give up; the beast had been provoked.

“Oh yes I can; you brought this on your goddamn self by putting your nose where it didn’t belong. Now, sit - the fuck - down before I make you,” Simon demanded and begrudgingly Johnny followed orders. The skull masked giant was scary intimidating when he wanted to be and with the several inches in height he had on the pretty boy in this enclosed space, it was enough to make him submit.

Johnny subdued, Simon refocused back on you. That rough palm cupped your cheek, making you look up at him and only him. With a heavy touch he drug the thick pad of his thumb over your lower lip as he stared at their fullness with hunger in his gaze.

“How about it, hmm?” he asked. “Why don’t we give Johnny boy here a show he won’t fuckin’ easily forget; it’ll be just like you wanted. Don’t you want him to see how good you take me? He thinks he knows what you need, how about we show him how bloody wrong he really is.”

The idea of performing in front of Johnny was enough to make your head buzz with the sudden intensity of your arousal. You would have allowed the entire base to watch you get plowed by Simon, getting absolutely destroyed by his massive cock, if he asked it of you, but Johnny would do just fine.

“Fuck yes,” you agreed without hesitation. Your lover had been disrespected after all and you knew with the way Simon was fuming that the rage-fueled sex would be oh so good right now.

“Good girl,” Simon praised in the gravely tone that fit his accent to perfection. “That’s my good fuckin’ girl.”

Your lips already raw and still parted as you waited for his mouth to come back to yours, eyes hooded with lust, you did not even protest as those large hands moved down the front of your torso and took hold of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head to leave you standing in your bra.

“She’s really giving you a treat, Mactavish. You think everyone gets this view?” Simon spat back behind him as he moved you both right before the desk with you in front of him, your back pressed against his chest. He may be the only one who could touch you, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want others to watch as he did it. No, he wanted to parade you around just to show off what others couldn’t have.

Those muscular arms crossed themselves across your torso, pushing your tits together to give them more lift as they sat still inside your bra while his mouth found the crook of your neck where he laid the first of a few quick nips. “Neva seen such a glorious sight, have you Johnny?” he groaned, looking down into the peaks of your breasts that had popped up over the top of your lingerie. “Let’s make it even fuckin’ better.”

With one hand he drew the clasp in the middle of your back together, pinching the sturdy fabric until the tiny hooks unclasped themselves and your bra hung loose at the front of your chest. Coming back around, his hand grabbed at the middle of the bra and wrench it forward and off your shoulder to leave your breasts fully exposed. “Don’t need this, I’ve got something for those juicy tits.”

Those two oversized hands of his cupped the fullness of your breasts within their grasps, cradling them against the palms as they spilled a little through his grip. Taking your pink rosebuds between his thumbs and the side of his pointer fingers he rolled the tiny beads around until they stuck out prominently in between his digits.

“You like that you little slag? Fuck, you have enough tits to go around, luv,” Simon said pointedly against the side of your head as he continued to work at your nipples, waiting until he got the whimper he was looking for before addressing Johnny again in mockery. “Doesn’t that just eat you up inside Johnny boy? That I get all of this to my fuckin’ self?”

A hand slipped down the front of your pants and inside the waistband, traveling across the warm, soft skin of your abdomen until it hit the crotch of your pants so that he could cup that rough palm against your sex. A moan escaped your lips as he scooped up against it and applied a good bit of pressure. “Oh,” he hissed delightedly as a dampness instantly hit his hand, “she’s already drippin’ for me, aren’t you, luv? Mmm, I think she’s enjoin’ bein’ the center of attention. Too bad you can’t get a feel of these silky petals old boy; they’re so warm and wet and soft it should be a goddamn crime. Fuckin’ hell, they’d make Satan himself repent ina fuckin heartbeat.”

You could feel Simon’s girth throbbing against your tailbone as he massaged up against your swollen clit, his other hand still cupped around your breast. He was clearly enjoying this as much as you were, audience be damned. His cock was so hard it was about to rip a hole in the crotch of his pants as he put all his energy into you, feeling it throbbing with each beat of his pulse as his heart worked extra since all the blood had rushed to that girthy appendage.

Head heavily falling back against his shoulder, you let yourself go completely to him while your hips began to move with him as you thrust against his palm to create even more friction. The thrill of having Johnny sitting there, eyes glued to you as if he were unable to pull his sight from your form only made your skin tingle with excitement and heightened your arousal. It was true, you loved being the center of attention and to have Simon so possessive over you was the icing on this sinful cake.

“These have got to go, baby,” Simon’s voice at your ear growled, his hand leaving your cunt for the moment as he tugged at the waistband of your pants. Nimbling he undid the button and pulled down the zipper agonizingly slow and you swore you could hear the second that Johnny had stopped breathing.

Simon’s heavy panting was at your ear as the rest of the entire room stood silently still. If it were up to him in that moment he would have just thrown you over the desk and entered you without another second being spent, but his anger had not left him completely yet and he really wanted his brother in arms to be destroyed.

“Slide them off, easy now; make Johnny squirm with the anticipation of it,” he ordered before he leaned in so that only you would hear the next bit. “Make him pay for tryin’ to take you from me; ruin him.”

Lifting your head back up off Simon’s shoulder you brought your gaze directly to Johnny’s face, holding his sight locked in your own. Your mouth still agape with your short, rapid exhalations you made a show of slipping your fingers into the now opened waistband at the hips. Pushing them just a little, they moved down an inch as you jutted your hip out seductively. Then you paused as Simon latched those lips to your neck.

“Do you want to see me Johnny?” you asked in a breathy whisper. “Cause I really, really want you to see me. All of me.”

Johnny could have easily looked away from the sight before him, no one was forcing him to watch, but try as he might to pull his hungry gaze away he couldn’t. Simon was right, fuck you were gorgeous being absolutely manhandled like that even though it wasn’t him that was doing it. Still, the way your body looked as it flushed pink with the heat of your pleasure made it hard not to enjoy the show. If the tightness now giving the front of his pants a good tenting was any indication, he was going to be in pure agony for weeks on end.

His silent, wide-eyed stare spoke volumes and again you lowered the waistband just a bit more, right at the base of your pubic bone. The little patch of neatly trimmed hair at the top of your pussy had just started to peak through the zipper as you paused for the second time.

Sucking the silky smooth flesh of your neck, Simon hummed into you. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he praised how well you were following his direction. “Steady on.”

Heavy thumps from his pulsating heart could be felt in his ears as Johnny watched on with baited breath while you finally slipped the cloth concealing your cunt off your hips and down over the curve of your ass, not stopping until you had pulled them completely off your legs and they lay resting on the ground. Standing back up to your full height you gazed back up at your audience with innocent doe eyes as you bit your lip playfully.

“What do ya think?” Simon posed the question to Soap who was now foaming at the mouth. “Can you think of anything more beautiful than this? And it’s all fuckin’ mine.”

God, the ecstasy of being paraded around like Simon’s favorite toy was out of this world and you couldn’t help but revel in the euphoria of it all. As much as you knew Simon wanted Johnny to pay for what he did, you knew that the only reason he agreed to such a punishment in the first place was because he desperately wanted someone, anyone, to know that he had you under his thumb.

And something about how incredibly, indescribably, ridiculously hot that thought was made you absolutely feral.

You ran your hands around your neck and down around your breasts, giving them a squeeze before continuing down the line of your body. You glided over your hips while giving them a twist before stopping just shy of your cunt as Johnny’s chest heaved heavily up and down.

“Fuck,” he said barely above a whisper as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and you smiled.

Simon moved back against you, his forehead resting against the side of your head as he pawed at his cock within his pants, trying to adjust the painfully tender organ to sit more comfortably to no avail; he was too worked up now and only one thing would fix it. Still, lips resting at your ear, Simon gave another command. “Touch yourself.”

That was an order you would not hesitate to follow.

Extending your middle and ring fingers, you slipped your hand fully down between your thighs and split yourself open slowly; fuck, you were just as tender as he was, your throbbing clit could barely take anymore without some form of release. Easing your fingers inside, you found that precious bean and began to stroke concise circles over the top of it.

“Mmmm…” you moaned into your closed mouth as a shiver ran through you.

Pressed up against you, Simon could feel the shake in your arm as you worked yourself, the muscle of your bicep vibrated on his torso and rubbed against his abdominals. He focused everything on the little mewls and groans you let flow out of you like music as you drew out your own ecstasy stroke by even stroke. If your loyalty to him was ever in question, it was resolved now as you followed his orders completely without hesitation.

You were the farthest thing from God as something could get, but the damnation was more than worth it just to covet you all to himself. If Simon ever felt the need to worship, it was your body that would be his religion now.

His hand cupped your cheek to hold your head against him. “What’re you thinkin’ about?” Simon groaned, eyes still closed. “Are you thinkin’ of me as your fingers do all the fuckin’ work?”

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Say it, out loud.”

You swallowed hard. “I’m thinking of that fat fucking cock of yours plunging deep inside me. Goddammit Simon, please, I need you baby.”

Yes, oh fucking God yes. “Look at Johnny, say it again.”

Eyes heavy lidded found the Sargent’s face. With voice clear, you spoke your truth, unashamed. “God I need to feel Simon’s cock stretching me out, filling me full, making me vibrate. Christ, I need him to fuck me stupid.”

A pathetic whimper sounded behind closed lips as your stroke hit a bit of extra sensitivity. The vision of him finally bending you over the desk to enter you was all you could imagine now and it made you writhe with anticipation.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon grunted, his phallus bruising your leg as he ground the hard tip into your thigh. “I’m gonna fucking fill you so full to the goddamn brim with me, I’ll have your legs shakin’. You want that, to be stuffed full? Maybe I’ll really stuff you, give you everything.”

His brain was misfiring, his heartbeat pounding, his pupils dilating as each agonizing second passed until he could not hold back a thought that came forward towards the surface of his mind. The ultimate show of possession, the peak of ownership, the true slap in the face of the one watching you both right now. And he let out that thought that was snaking its way through him like electricity.

“How about we make Johnny watch as I fuckin’ breed you?” he growled, low and primal, putting his whole chest into it.

Simon almost had to grab you to stop you from falling as your knees nearly buckled out from under you at his salacious statement. That came out of nowhere to take you completely by surprise, but Jesus Christ what a visual that you were instantly obsessed with now. Was he trying to stop your heart because if he was going to say shit like that he better have a defibrillator on standby.

“Yes, fucking yes,” you whined as you fingers began to move faster and faster against your clit. “Do it baby, fucking breed me. Fill me nice and deep. Make this pussy yours.”

It was so wet between your legs the sound of your fingers stroke through your slick was now audible and Johnny was trying his hardest not to pass out. What he wouldn’t have given to have the balls to get up, throw Simon out, and have his fucking fill of you; that was a dream, but shit was he burning to slide his cock into that slopping mess gathering between your thighs.

“Please, Simon,” you cried out, “take me now. Please, I can’t fucking stand it anymore. I need to feel you.”

Simon’s member was so tender with a deep ache that it was almost painful. Enough was enough, screw Johnny and this bullshit display, this wasn’t waiting another second; if he wasn’t inside of you in the next beat it felt like he would burn to death.

A strong hand gripped your wrist and ripped your hand from out between your thighs before it moved to your hip and was joined by the other on the opposite one. You were being shoved forward, pushed from behind as Simon blocked your hips up against the edge of the desk. You were already bending over it when his forearm pressed into your shoulder blades to guide you down before his fingers were running the length of your spine to your ass.

The other hand quickly pulled down the zipper on the front of his pants and finally he was able to release himself, his pants hanging loosely about his lower hips. His cock was so swollen and feverish to the touch, the moment it hit the cooler air outside his clothing he winced. The two prominent veins along the length throbbed and pulsed with his raging heartbeat and the engorged tip shimmered with a bit of precum that had leaked out.

No time was wasted as he used his booted foot to spread your legs open wider, shifting his hips in against your ass as he slid the tip of his phallus between your damp petals. Slipping it back and forth as few times, he coated himself in your juices; he was about to go all in and he would take as much lubrication as he could so that nothing would be snagging.

Once satisfied he again grabbed your hips and aligned himself, thrusting hard towards your entrance, inserting himself fully into you. You took him all in perfectly, your body swallowing every last delectable inch as if it was designed to hold all of that girth.

“Oh god baby, you’re just suckin’ me right in, you greedy bitch,” he hissed, those fingertips bruising your skin as he held on for dear life. “Christ, take it all, slut.”

He had to pause to collect himself, otherwise this would be over before it had begun. It should be a goddamn felony for you to feel this good, as if it were that first time all over again. You had to have a bit of witch in you to keep him under your spell like this.

Breathing through the waves of ecstasy threatening to undo him, he regained his composure and began pounding into you with strong, robust thrusts, pulling almost completely out of you before slamming back into your core down to the base of his cock. Your body rocked against his intense thrusts, breasts bouncing across the desk as your face was pressed even further into the surface; you could only moan as the euphoria coursing through you at his movements was intoxicating.

A strong grip around your neck from behind picked up your head and pointed it forward right back at Johnny’s face from off the tabletop. Mouth open and jaw slack as you breathed through each delicious thrust from Simon’s cock, you locked eyes with the mohawked Sargent and held his gaze.

“There we go, you keep those eyes on ol’ Johnny boy there, pretty girl” Simon growled. “I want him to see the look in them as you take every last goddamn inch of me.”

The warmth radiating from his body made your skin tingle as your back began to glisten with perspiration; his fingertips left trails of fire everywhere he touched and you were more than willing to burn for him. He kept the pace even, making each thrust count as he hit that tiny bundle of nerve endings inside of you.

You could feel your pulse match his in perfect unison, your heartbeats determining the pace he pounded that cunt of yours. The harder his hips pumped into you, the more the sounds of your bodies slapping together filled the silence of the room. What beautiful fucking music your screwing made. The force shook through your trembling body, but the precision was spot on in hitting that perfect spot time and time again until you were so inebriated on the exhilaration of the over stimulation.

Gagging on his own moan, Simon looked down to watch himself thrust in and out of you. Too much, it was all too damn much; you took him so goddamn well, the way your juicy cunt pulled his cock in. No one had ever made him this pussy-drunk, not in recent memory and as you bucked against his pelvis, that intoxication only grew.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you buck any harder and I’m going to blow my load right fuckin’ now,” he grunted between thrusts. “You want that? For me to fill that pussy full? Why don’t you tell Johnny what you want.”

You licked your parched lips as you struggled to regain your ability to speak. “I need him to fill me Johnny,” you said, your eyes pleading with the man directly in your vision staring, unblinking. Your eyes begin to water, its too good, its too much. He’s hitting deep, as deep as the angle can get while his testicles bounce of your pussy to add that extra bit of stimulation. On your tiptoes, you are backing it up until your ass is flush with him, mouth hanging open as you pant like a bitch in heat, saliva threatening to drip from your lips. “Please, I can’t take much more.”

Johnny’s hand began pawing at himself unconsciously through his pants, trying to calm the storm. It feels like you are asking him a question, but his brain was so hazy he couldn’t form solid thoughts. That desperate look in your eye, the begging swimming in their depths, he could feel the breadth of your desire for the man behind you.

“Please…”

Simon turned his attention to Johnny for the first time since before he entered you and smirked. “So needy isn’t she?” he asked. “Always making me work for it. She’s almost fuckin’ there, though, but this part is just for me.”

Quickly he pulled his cock out of you amidst your whimpers at suddenly feeling empty and spun you around, picking you up so that your ass made contact with the surface of the desk where you sat. There was no need to worry, he was back in between those legs in the blink of an eye and as you wrapped your thighs around his hips, he thrust back inside that tight, sopping wet cave.

His body shuddered harshly from the feeling of your silky walls being wrapped around him again. “Goddamn, sweetheart,” he grunted, his eyes meeting yours. You were a mess, a beautiful disaster, and his breath hitched as he admired your flushed cheeks, glazed eyes, swollen, cracked lips; all his doing.

Those primal instincts within his marrow took over and all he knew, all he cared about was the feeling of your walls constricting around him and how that pleasure takes all his cares away. His lips crashed upon yours furiously, completely muting your whines as his movements become more ferocious.

“You are mine,” Simon said repeatedly in hushed groans against your lips as if trying to pour the sentiment down your throat. “Mine.”

His, you thought. Only his.

Harder and harder his abdominal muscles clenched and retracted as he put everything into the force of his thrusts. Your tits bounced up and down in front of his face, jiggling with each hit as you wrapped a hand around the back of his neck to hang on as he rocked your body.

“Say it, I want to hear it,” he demanded suddenly; as much as he was struggling to hold it off, it wasn’t working, and he was about to come.

“I’m yours, Simon,” you mewled, your grip on his spine tightening.

Fuck, he would never get tired of hearing that. “Again.”

You swallowed the saliva gathering in the front of your mouth to coat your parched throat. “I’m yours, Simon, only yours,” you said louder this time.

“Again.”

“Simon, this pussy is yours, only yours, forever yours. …Fuck.”

With that last syllable he was gone; his cock pulsed violently inside you, his body writhing harshly while he drained himself dry, coating your walls with his fluids as he continued to pump inside of you. There was no way he was going to give up until you had come too. A few more strong thrusts in and out with steady rhythm and that was all it took, you were crying out as well, throwing your head back as you shook with the intensity of it all. That grip on your hips turned painful as Simon dug his fingertips into your flesh to keep you both steady while you rode out your orgasms until there was nothing left to give and once he finally released you, you toppled backward onto the desk exhausted.

Pulling out of you nice and slow, everything was far to tender to move quick anymore, he gazed down at his masterpiece. Your entrance dripped droplets of his seed as it spilled out of you and something about it made him shiver with excitement. You looked absolutely divine stuffed with his cum.

As he looked back up towards your face, he was met with your sleepy, ecstasy-filled smile and his heart leapt in his chest. Goddamn, this was a fucking dream. He leaned over your exhausted body and pulled your head up, mashing his face into yours as he captured your lips and held them locked until he could feel your heartbeat slow to a more respectable rhythm.

Releasing you and resting his forehead on yours, he holstered his cock back inside his pants. “Get dressed and head back to my quarters, I’ll be there in a bit. I got something to finish up here first.”

You nodded into his head and he helped you to get up off the desk and grab your clothing, holding your tired, shaking body steady while you put everything back on. “You did so good for me, luv,” he whispered his praise before walking you to the door to unlock it and let you out, re-locking it behind you.

Johnny was already on his feet by the time Simon turned around. Crossing the room in just a few large steps, he was on him. Simon’s large hand wrapped itself around his throat as his face inched in closer in intimidating fashion.

“You ever try to touch ‘er again, anything more than just a friendly little handshake, and I will make it my mission to ruin your fuckin’ life. Understand me, Sargent?”

A nod of his head. “Yes,” Johnny said quietly as he struggled against his grip.

That wasn’t good enough. “I didn’t fuckin’ hear you,” Simon snapped.

“Yes, sir,” he said more firm this time.

“And if words get back to me that you went to Price about this, well, let’s just say that certain actions have consequences. Is that also fuckin’ clear?” Those rich chocolate eye bore down into Johnny’s soul with the seriousness of his words; this would be the one and only warning he got.

The sour look on Johnny’s face let him know he had gotten the message. “Crytsal, sir,” he confirmed.

“Good,” Simon snapped, releasing the grasp on his neck just as quickly as he had taken it.

Moving back, he straightened himself up to make sure nothing would look out of place to anyone he would pass on the way back to his room before speaking again. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, Sargent. I know I will.”

And with that Johnny was left alone as Simon threw open the door and stalked back out of his office as if nothing of note had taken place here. There was no telling right then and there what would happen next, as Soap's head was still reeling, but one thing was for certain: things were about to get interesting.

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