Cod Fanfic - Blog Posts

“You were a wonderful experience..”

“You were…everything..”

TW: mentions of death (think that’s about it)

So we all know that the army isn’t safe most of the time

but one day The 141 was on a mission per usual before something bad happens to ghost and Johnny can’t get to him in time when he finally gets to Simon he’s already to hurt to be saved

Johnny holds Simon in his arms crying telling him no begging him not to go he can’t leave him alone

There’s so many things they haven’t done together so many things soap hasn’t said to Simon but nonetheless ghost softly cups soaps face taking off his face covering

He kisses soap handing him his dog tag before soap can protest before soap even has a chance to do anything else Simon looks at soap with a smile before closing his eyes and taking his last breath everything in that moment just stops time stops for soap

He can’t hear price taking into the coms he can’t hear the distance gun shots he’s just focused on Simon the man he once loved no the man he still loves is now gone before he could do anything before he could say anything it’s like his world just ended that day…. The day Simon ‘ghost’ Riley passed he took John ‘soap’ MacTavish with him… and everyone knew that..

This is a repost from my twitter :)

Lil itch that I can’t just scratch.

Brain rot First little story (Yay😭)

Soap ghost story their married retired they have a dog in this they live in a lake house it’s a summer night(A little sliver of happiness here me out 😭)

the sun starts to set as Soap comes home after running a small errand but the house was quiet no Simon or puppy in sight looking around the house Johnny still couldn’t find his husband and pup so he decides to go and check the backyard sliding the sliding glass door opening there he sees it

His husband in nothing but his underwear knees deep in the warm lake water waiting for the dog to bring back the frisbee he just threw smiling his hair damp from swimming in the lake playing with the dog the sun is starting to set behind them.

Soap smiles at the sene in front of him seeing the sliver of happiness in their life of war and suffering this is what they wanted this is finally what they got a place of peace and quiet nothing but love in their little home they always dreamed of when deployed or more what soap dreamed of and he got it and he’s never going to let this picture go.

.

..

…

Never in a million years he will forever fight along and for Simon

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I read all 3 parts and it’s delicious (^‿^✿)

I love your writing, it's so fucking good. you write abt plusize ppl so well I'm jealous- ANYWAYS

can you please write chubby puppygirl who's desperate for simons approval? she already knows price likes her. she's got the man tamed as if he was the pup. but simon??? he's so nonchalant about her that she can't help but go insane trying to get praise from him. whining and yappin at his feet, giving him big puppy eyes, doing whatever he tells her to???

(if you wanna get real nasty, you could write him taking advantage of her. pushing past her limits/making her do embarrassing things)

also congrats again on 500!!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

WAAAA THANK YOU!!!! my biggest inspo for plus size puppygirl reader fr ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ohhhh this is soooo delicioussss bc its so true 0-0

priceghost/plus size puppygirl reader, emphasis on ghost/reader. mdni, simon is a meanie, a little angsty but i'm a cheesy sucker for happy endings and cuddles. there's sex in there, i swear, you just have to be patient WEHGFVWKFHB wordcount: 2.8k 💀

price dotes on you like you're royalty, pouring all his money, time, and affection into you. he loves to pull you onto his lap and let you shower him with kisses. he'll have you rest your head on his thigh while he works so he can pet your hair. he buys you a pretty collar with your name on the front and his name and number on the back, as if you'd ever wander far away enough to get lost—but one name is noticeably absent.

simon is completely nonplussed by you. your pretty whines are met with scoffs, your head nuzzling against his knee earns you a pinch on your poor, sensitive puppy ears. the only time simon really pays you any attention is when price brings the two of you together, too tired to do anything but stroke his own cock and watch ghost ram into you, calling out harsh commands when his boy gets a little too rough with you. even then, when he's bullying you with his cock, tugging your tail to make you whine in pain or smacking any inch of skin he can see to watch it ripple and bounce, you're on you absolute best behavior for him.

you crave his praise more than all the pets and treats in the world, likely because it's been withheld from you for so long. puppies have a constant desire for things they can't have like, and the same is true for puppy hybrids. while real dogs beg for chocolate when it's being eaten, all you can think about around ghost is earning his approval.

ghost, of course, barely notices at first. once he's brought you to price, he considers his mission complete--all he planned to do was bring his captain a special present, and maybe fuck it from time to time. it wasn't until he observed your behavior with the other members of the 141 that he recognized your behavior. you were friendly and playful with gaz and soap, but you never fought for their attention., and with price you never had to fight for anything. no, it was only with him that you begged and pleaded for attention. only then did he become interested.

he starts small with little grunts of approval when you followed an instruction particularly well. he sees how your eyes shone when he didn't push you away as you nuzzled up to his calf, amused that just the barest touch was enough to make you dizzy. what a fun little game it could be, he thought, to see how far you would go to gain his love.

the game began when price flew out for a week for a training seminar, giving lectures to recruits and overseeing their exercises. obviously he couldn't bring you, he'd cooed as he'd wiped the tears from your round face. he would need to focus all his time on the recruits, and he simply couldn't do that with his soft, precious girl around; but don't worry, simon would take good care of you. this is where simon finds his opportunity, with no captain holding his proverbial leash. he insists you stay in his quarters for the time being--there's no use letting you lay in price's bed for the whole week, snuffling at his pillows and crying until he returns. what kind of owner would simon be if he let you do that?

instead, you stay in ghost's quarters, and this is where his fun begins. needy puppies don't sleep on human beds, he condescends on the first night. your look of confusion is met with amusement as ghost produces a big, fluffy dog bed for you to sleep on. you don't want to be ungrateful, do you? and of course you don't! so you curl up in the dog bed, the roundness of your belly and thighs making it difficult to properly tuck you body in to fit, but the words good girl that follow make you beam with delight. you're a little squirmy the next morning when he makes you eat your breakfast on the floor, but all discomfort disappears when ghost strokes your ears while he eats.

when price puts you on your knees, he puts a fluffy pillow under you to stop the pain. simon purposfully chooses a hard surface and spreads his legs wide, slapping his thighs to invite you to worm between them and mouth at his cock. he gets mean about it, forcing it too far too fast and making you gag and tear up, but you keep going like a champ the whole time, desperate to hear his praises.

its only that evening when ghost begins to feel guilty. the way you stumbled and crawled after he forced you to stay on the ground all day made the pain you were in very obvious. his cold heart cracks just a little when he hears you muffle sobs of pain and loneliness into your pillow on the dog bed. it’s worse the next morning when you're sluggish and achey, eyes puffy from tears and lack of sleep. still, you settled on the ground like a good girl, anticipating his command and biting back the little sounds of distress caused by your throbbing muscles. fuck, he did't want to do this anymore.

"up," he commands shortly. you tilt your head, confused, and ghost grunts. "i said up."

you stand slowly, half from your protesting joints and half out of concern that this is some kind of trap. simon sighs, rubbing his hand over his face and feeling the fabric of his balaclava catch on the callouses.

"go on, back to bed. my bed," he clarifies when your lip begins to quiver. he brings in a bowl of cereal for you, exasperated to find you perched gingerly on the very edge of the bed, ready to slide onto the floor at a moments notice. "stay up there, lovie, get comfortable. there you go."

he hands you the bowl and watches your tentative movements as you wriggle your fat thighs around to sit more securely on the bed. your sleep shirt clings to your round belly, making it even more apparent as you begin to eat your cereal. god damn, you really were the prettiest little thing. with your thick thighs and arms, ghost thought you would be a sturdy girl, able to take his cruelty, but looking into your sweet face he knows he had been wrong. you poor little thing, so obedient and fragile. he resolved to be at least a little gentler with you, his new favorite toy. he really ought to make it up to you, coax you back in to him, but ghost doesn't do apologies.

he's always thought actions speak louder than words.

his hand is slow when it creeps to your hair as you eat, his eyes drawn to the way your ears twitch when he scratches at the base of them with dirty fingernails. you drink the milk from the bowl, sweetened by the tooth-rotteningly sugar cereal price indulges you with, and ghost wipes the milk mustache from your upper lip with the rough pad of his thumb. your pink tongue pokes out to lick it obediently off of his fingers, just like you would do with price. god, he wanted to make you cry, those big eyes would look so pretty glassy with tears, but he'd already hurt you enough in the past day.

simon considers your face for a moment. he doesn't really do kisses either, unless price makes him, and even then his favorite place to kiss is the sole of the captain's boot. instead, simon scratches your ears absentmindedly until you nuzzle into his palm. you seem content to lie in his bed all day with his hand in your hair, but frankly, he finds that a boring solution to his self-made problem. instead, he trails his hand down your face and thick neck to where your collarbones are barely bumps under soft fat and skin. he draws circles there for a moment, watching your reactions to his touch with feigned disinterest. he'd never bothered to learn you before, leaving that up to price, but now... well, getting to know his favorite chew toy a little better couldn't hurt.

his hand moves down, cupping one of your tits in his hand. even his big palm didnt cover the whole thing, so big and soft, and that interested him more than the thought of your pretty tears.

"take this off, yeah?" he phrases it as a question, but the way you jump to do as he says makes it seem like gospel. you're even prettier underneath, rolls on your sides and your tummy hanging over the waistband of your sleep shorts, littered with stretch marks that remind simon of his own. your nipples are already pebbling, fuck you're so pretty. he pinches at them more gently than he usually would, trying to mimic what he's seen price do to you. the satisfying little whine you let out tells him he'd probably doing something right, eyes flitting back up to yours. oh, sensitive thing, you're already eager for more, he can see it in your eyes.

he's seen price lavish your tits with his mouth and he's seen how you squirm and preen from it, so he rolls up his mask over his nose and dips down to seal his lips around your swollen nipple. he rubs his tongue against it and when that doesn't elicit the response he wants, he sucks on it with a little more force than necessary. now you let out that lovely little noise, and he feels his cock twitch to life. his mouth waters at the taste of you, sucking and licking your nipple with an almost clinical focus, trying to figure out what you like. his fingers tweak your other nipple and, there, there it is again, that precious little moan. he salivates over the taste of you, his spit dripping down when he bites at your skin, enjoying how you squirm.

"simon, simon" your breathy voice breaks through his focus and his eyes turn up to meet yours. he huffs when all you do is stare at him and squirm, and he pinches your nipple meanly.

"you want something, lovie?" he snips, "you ask."

"please, touch me?" he rolls his eyes. you're so vocal with price. are you really so scared of him?

"words, pet, or i'll leave you like this," he warns. "be specific."

"please, please touch my pussy," you whimper. what a lovely sound. "or let me touch you?"

ghost considers having you suck him off. he's seen you wrap your lips around price's cock and hump his leg until you cum, rutting against his boots like the desperate little pup you are, and he has to admit it’s tempting. he's already hard in his boxers, fuck is he hard, but he reminds himself this is supposed to be for you. instead of responding, he pushes his hand on your plush belly and forces you down on your back, shuffling his way down the bed. he yanks your panties and shorts down and off your legs with little ceremony, forcing your thick thighs wide enough for him to get a look at your pussy. he spreads the folds apart, watching how you glisten.

"please, simon," you whine, rolling your hips forward to try and get his thick fingers inside of you.

"isn't this what you wanted?" he tuts, but relents. he's forced his fingers into you many times, but after a moment more he realizes that he's never put his mouth on you, never licked into your cunt or sucked on your clit. has he ever eaten cunt? not to his memory. shit, maybe he should stick to what he knows--but you look so sweet weeping for him. there's a first time for everything.

he leans down, unsure of where to begin, and licks a long stripe up your cunt. your hips buck into his face and he does it again. you taste good, he decides. he wants more.

ghost buries his tongue in your pussy and you make a delicious noise. he licks in and out, getting more of that tangy sweetness in his mouth and dripping down his chin and fuck he loves it, no wonder price spends so long with your thighs pressed tight around his head. you clench around his tongue and he groans. soft and wet and sweet, he could stay here forever. only the dissatisfied whines from your lips tear him away for a moment realizing he's been neglecting your poor, throbbing clit. how mean of him. he scrapes his teeth across it just to hear you cry out before pulling it into his mouth, forcing his tongue under the hood to rub the nerves hard enough to make you weak. he grinds his own hips into the bed, his cock so hard in his pants that he considers pulling away entirely to shove it inside you--but all thoughts of forcing his cock in your pussy fly away when he feels you gush out more of that sweetness he wants.

simon sinks back down, slurping pornographically against the folds of your cunt. the fabric of the balaclava, still rucked up over his nose, grinds against your clit.

"simon, simon, si," you babble his name and he finds that he enjoys sound of that too.

"i know, lovie, i know," he grunts, muffled into your cunt. he could go on like this for a while for his own pleasure, and maybe one time he will, but right now this is for you, so he pulls his tongue reluctantly out of your cunt and goes back to licking your throbbing clit, hard and swollen under his touch. his thick fingers find their way to your weeping entrance, working in slow enough to make your head fall back in a noise of anguish. he pumps them in and out faster, luxuriating in the wet sound. in and out, in and out, and soon you're chanting for him. his name, his callsign, babbled sounds that barely sound like words at all, and he devours each noise with the same enthusiasm that he eats you out with. your thighs tighten around his head, squishing tight over his ears and he begrudges the slight loss of those precious noises. oh well, he'll just have to make you scream.

his fingers move faster, so long and thick that he manages to find that spot inside you that makes you sob above him, panting and squirming like you're unsure if you want to get away or drive yourself closer. ghost doesn't care--if you tried to pull back right now he'd just drag you back. you're close, he can tell, so close he imagines he can taste the change on his tongue. he wants to pull back and encourage you to come with his words, but he just can't seem to pull away from your clit, sucking and sucking and sucking and--

you do scream for him, loud and trembling and gushing over his fingers oh-so-sweetly, and simon feels his boxers fill with warmth. christ, he came in his fucking boxers from eating your pretty cunt, he'd have to make this a habit--maybe with price fucking into him from behind, wouldn't that be something? he sits up, panting and licking the wetness off of his mouth, finally seeing the limpness of your body and that deliciously fucked-out look on your face. he pats your thigh.

"need a nap, hm?" he suggests, though you seem like you're not quite back to coherence yet. what would price do right now, he considers. food and water and a warm washcloth come to his mind, though price usually has those prepped and on hand. still, he's pretty sure he could scrounge up a water bottle and some fruit for you. he slides off of the bed, surprised to hear a distressed whimper when he does.

you're holding out your weak arms to him, lip trembling. he stares at you, confused. the fuck are you asking for? cuddles?

oh. right.

ghost considers for a moment. cuddles are on the list of things he doesn't do, right up there with kisses and apologies, but you look vulnerable and warm and so, so soft. naked in his bed, eyes wide, begging to be held, he can't deny you, can he?

he sighs and slides back in with you, grunting when you press your face to his chest in delight.

"gonna be fuckin' gross when you wake up," he grumbles, thinking about the stickiness between your thighs and in his boxers, but wraps his arms around you nonetheless. your ears twitch and under the blankets he can hear your tail thump, eyes closing right away. you're just as soft and warm as you looked.

he's fucked.

Yall my man is just the sweetest ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

Kyle Garrick x f!reader

middle ages AU

very very fluffy | non descriptive smut

contains mentions of marital abuse (not kyle)

The castle walls were cold, but not colder than your husband's silence.

Duke Simon Riley was revered across the kingdom—war hero, iron-fisted ruler, silent shadow of a man with a gaze like flint. You were the jewel he’d claimed after the war, a marriage sealed with blood-stained hands and noble signatures. They called you fortunate. A lady. A duchess. A trophy.

But behind the stone facade, you were his maid. His mother. His wife. His burden.

The servants knew better than to look you in the eye when you dragged the tray of food down the hall, your silks dusted with ash from the hearth you stoked yourself. They whispered as you limped from the cellar with buckets of wine, sleeves rolled, dignity unraveling thread by thread. The noblewoman who still scrubbed blood from his armor. Who kept his books and raised his bastard nephew. Who was expected to smile when he returned late, stinking of drink and war.

Simon barely spoke—unless it was to bark an order, or mutter thanks through gritted teeth. The only time his voice softened was when he needed you to serve him: in court, in chambers, in bed.

And you obeyed. Like a good wife. A good duchess.

Until one day, the shame turned to salt in your mouth.

When he dropped his boots at your feet without looking at you. When you poured his wine and watched him laugh with his men, never once thinking to ask you how your day was. When he dared to touch you in bed like you were a body he owned, a vessel, a duty.

Your love had died quietly, a candle snuffed out by indifference.

And one night, under a moon shrouded in mist, you packed nothing but what you could carry. Left a letter sealed with your ring. Walked past the guards who thought you were just one more servant finishing her chores.

The night air bit your cheeks as you crossed the threshold, barefoot and breathless.

No more.

No more bruised hands scrubbing floors you were meant to rule over.

No more gentle smiles for a man who never once said he loved you.

No more breaking your back for a crown that sat too heavy.

You ran into the dark, cloak whipping behind you, heart pounding.

The Duke of Blackmere would wake to an empty bed.

And for once—he could clean up the mess.

The forest swallowed the sound of your breath.

You ran.

The silk of your nightgown, once white, now clung to your legs—mud-slick and torn where the brambles snatched at it like claws. Twigs tangled in your hair, cruel fingers yanking your braids loose, but you didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Not even when the rocks bit into the soles of your feet, slicing skin and drawing warm blood that trailed behind you like a second veil.

The moon lit your path in shards—silver light piercing through the canopy, just enough to guide you forward, forward, forward.

Every step burned. Your lungs were raw. Your hands scraped against bark and stone as you stumbled, catching yourself, scrambling on all fours for a moment before rising again like a hunted animal.

Behind you, the castle stood still. Cold. Watching.

But the trees didn’t care who you were. The birds didn’t call you “Duchess.” Out here, you were no one. A woman with nothing but the fire in her chest and the echo of run, run, run in your ears.

Your gown snagged again. You hissed, yanking it free. The fabric gave with a rip, exposing your thigh to the night air. You didn’t care. You pushed on.

Until finally—lights.

Golden, flickering, swaying in the distance. Torches. Lanterns. Smoke curling from chimneys.

A village.

You stumbled over the threshold, barefoot and breathless, tears hot on your cheeks as you collapsed at the edge of a cobbled road. The world tilted. Voices called out, distant and muddled.

But you were safe.

For the first time in years—

You were free.

The first snowfall came early that year.

It blanketed the village in quiet, hush-white peace, and you watched it from the bakery window as the oven hissed softly behind you. The scent of yeast and cinnamon filled the small shop. Your hands, dusted in flour, shaped dough on muscle memory. You didn’t think much about the work anymore—it came easily now, like breath.

Months had passed since the night you’d run barefoot through the woods. No one asked why. No one pried. There was a sort of understanding here, a sacred silence shared between strangers who knew what it meant to begin again.

You were simply Miss, or darlin’, or love when Mrs. Price, the innkeeper’s wife, needed help minding her little ones and pressed hot tea into your hands. You cleaned the rooms at the inn, soothed fussy children to sleep, worked the early hours at the bakery in exchange for a roof and warm meals.

You slept on a straw-stuffed mattress beneath the rafters. It wasn’t a duchess’s bed. It didn’t need to be.

Each day blurred gently into the next. Until he became part of the rhythm.

Kyle Garrick, the farmer from just outside the village. Came into town twice a week with baskets of eggs and jugs of milk, his sleeves rolled to the elbow, hay in his curls, a dusting of dirt on his boots. He always called you Miss, voice warm as cider. Said it like a nickname, like a secret.

“G’mornin’, Miss,” he’d greet you with a little grin, arms full of crates, eyes kind. “Don’t suppose you’d let me carry those sacks for you?”

And you’d protest—always half-heartedly—as he hoisted the flour bags from the cart like they were weightless.

“I can manage,” you’d say.

“I know,” he’d reply, “but where’s the fun in that?”

He never asked where you came from. Not once. Just like the rest of them.

But sometimes you caught him looking at you—when your sleeves were rolled up and your face flushed from the oven’s heat, when you wiped sweat from your brow with the back of your wrist. Not lustfully. Just curious. Gentle. Like he was memorizing your edges.

You shared quiet moments. Small things.

He gave you the first apple from his tree that autumn. You saved the seeds.

One night, during a thunderstorm, he brought extra candles to the inn. Said he figured you hated the dark.

You did.

You hadn’t told him that.

And still—you stayed silent. You didn’t speak of the Duke. Of the silk gowns. Of the cold halls of your marriage. It belonged to another life. A different girl.

You didn’t know what this was. What it might become.

But Kyle’s hands were strong. His heart was kind. And maybe—just maybe—you were finally learning what it meant to be held, not possessed.

Kyle asked the first time in early spring.

“Got a new foal on the way,” he’d said, leaning his weight casually against the bakery doorframe, arms crossed, smiling just a little. “Thought you might want to see the farm sometime.”

You offered a polite smile, shook your head. “That’s kind, but I’ve got work.”

He didn’t push.

The second time, he tried again.

“Built a new coop for the hens. Clean lines, real proud of it. You could come see?”

You dusted flour off your apron, gave a soft laugh. “Sounds lovely, but I really can’t.”

He gave a little shrug. “Maybe another time, Miss.”

There were more offers—gentle ones. Shared like wildflowers laid at your feet. He never asked why you always said no.

Until one day, when the sun was soft and golden through the clouds and you were restocking shelves, Kyle stepped into the bakery looking just a touch more urgent than usual.

“She’s close,” he said without a greeting. “The goat. Her first birth. Thought of you right away—thought maybe you'd want to be there.”

You blinked, confused. “Why me?”

“Dunno,” he said with a shrug. “You just… seemed the type who might want to see something come into the world. Something good.”

And something in you—some fragile, buried thing—stirred.

So you nodded.

The walk to his farm was quiet, just the two of you on the narrow path between wild grass and scattered yellow blossoms. Your skirts brushed the earth, your boots muddied at the edges, but Kyle didn’t seem to mind. He pointed out things as you went—that tree’s been leaning since I was a lad, foxes sometimes nest there, there’s a hawk that lives near the well.

The farmhouse was simple. Warm. The porch sagged a little, and the door creaked when he opened it. The air smelled like hay and woodsmoke and something sweet—jams, maybe.

He didn’t ask you inside. Just took you to the barn.

The goat was already panting by the time you arrived, her sides heaving.

Kyle knelt beside her and showed you how to stroke her neck. How to speak soft. Gentle.

And when the kid finally arrived, slick and squirming and alive, you cried without realizing.

Kyle didn’t speak. Just handed you a clean cloth, his fingers brushing yours.

Later, when the goat and her baby were settled, and the sun had begun to set in streaks of amber and rose, he led you back toward the farmhouse porch.

“I can walk back alone,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

“You could,” he said, “but I’d rather walk you.”

And so he did.

That night, you lay awake in your narrow bed, remembering the way his hands moved—sure, patient, reverent. Remembering how he looked at you like you were real and here and not something to be claimed.

You still hadn’t told him who you were.

But maybe… he already knew there was something broken about you. Or maybe it didn’t matter.

Not anymore.

The sky was still tinted with the faint blue of pre-dawn when he arrived.

He always came early on Wednesdays—before the others, before the village stirred awake. Just him and the birdsong and the steam from the fresh loaves you made for him.

The door creaked as he entered. You didn’t look up at first, hands deep in the dough, sleeves rolled to your elbows. Your hair was braided back, wisps escaping to stick to your warm skin. The oven behind her flickered with a quiet fire.

“Morning, Miss,” Kyle said, voice soft, respectful, warm.

“You’re early,” you replied, not unkindly, still kneading.

“I like it here when it’s quiet,” he said, stepping closer but not crowding. “You working on mine?”

You nodded toward a proofing tray. “It’s rising now.”

He sat on the edge of the counter, just watching you for a while. Your hands moved like you were born to it—strong, steady, sure. You’d come to the village like a shadow, but now you glowed in the firelight. Familiar. Trusted. His, in some unspoken way neither of you had dared name.

He watched you in silence until, after a moment, he asked, “You ever been in love before, Miss?”

You paused, only for a second, then dusted your hands and went back to shaping the loaf.

“...Thought I was.”

There was no bitterness in your voice. No romance either. Just something hollowed out and carefully set down.

Kyle didn’t ask more. Didn’t need to.

He leaned back a bit, looking at you with something deeper than curiosity.

“Someone didn’t treat you right,” he said softly, not a question, not even a guess. Just a truth.

You looked up then. Just briefly. Your eyes, still tired from dreams you never spoke aloud, met his.

“No,” you whispered, “he treated me exactly how the world told him he could.”

Kyle blinked, slow. Then nodded. “World’s wrong about a lot of things.”

The air stretched between you like warm honey. The oven crackled. The dough rose. You turned your gaze back to it.

“I think I like making bread,” you said after a long silence. “It doesn’t ask anything of me. Just needs time. Patience. A steady hand.”

“I reckon you deserve the same,” he murmured.

You smiled, small and grateful.

When the loaf finished, you handed it to him wrapped in a linen cloth. His fingers brushed yours again. He didn’t linger, but he didn’t leave right away either.

“I’ll be by tomorrow,” he said. “Bring you something sweet. If you’d like.”

You didn’t nod. Didn’t answer.

But when he stepped outside, he saw your through the window, smiling to yourself with the faintest tilt of your lips.

And that was enough.

The moment the news reached you, you dropped a basket of rolls.

It passed from mouth to mouth like wildfire—a Duke, arriving tomorrow. One from the North. One with a name no one dared say but all seemed to know.

Your breath had hitched. Your hands had trembled. But you didn’t cry. You never did anymore.

By the time the sun began to dip low, painting the sky with shades of warning red, You were walking back from the bakery with your arms full of unsold loaves for the inn.

The air smelled like smoke and earth. Your stomach twisted.

“Miss?”

Kyle’s voice, always warm, always gentle, cut through the thick fog of your thoughts.

You hadn’t even heard him approach. But there he was—boots dusty, sleeves rolled, hands calloused and kind. He walked in step with you without asking.

His hand pressed lightly to the small of your back, and you startled just a little at the warmth of it. Not in fear. Just in surprise. You’d grown so used to holding yourself.

“You alright?” he asked, like he didn’t already see how tense you shoulders were.

You didn’t answer.

“Would you…” he started again, voice lower now, less sure. “Would you like to come by the farm again? Think the goats miss you.”

The question was simple. But it meant everything. A life raft offered in a storm.

You answered before you had time to think. “Yes.”

And it was the first thing that felt like a choice all day.

Kyle nodded once, like he’d expected you to say no, and the quiet joy in his eyes when you didn’t made you feel something you hadn’t let yourself feel in months.

Safe.

Not free yet. But close.

The loaves were still warm when you handed them off at the inn, your hands lingering on the cloth-covered basket like you might take it back and run. But you didn’t. You gave a soft nod to Mrs. and Mr. Price, mumbled something about being out late, and slipped through the door without another word.

Kyle waited just beyond the threshold, leaning on the fence post, eyes watching the fading sky.

Neither of you talked as you made the walk toward the farm. But it wasn’t the kind of silence you’d known before—the cold, stiff kind that always left you feeling like you’d said something wrong just by existing. No, this one was… easy. Like the earth didn’t expect anything from you but your steps on the road.

The goats came into view as the sun dipped further, casting gold over the hills. One of the younger ones bleated at you and stumbled toward the fence, nosing your palm with enthusiasm.

You laughed.

Not a pretty, courtly giggle. A real laugh. One that cracked something open in your chest, something you’d been pressing down so hard it left bruises.

You blinked fast, swallowing around the sudden lump in your throat.

Kyle didn’t say a word. Just crouched near one of the fence posts, adjusting a bit of loose rope like he didn’t notice the way your eyes shined.

But when you looked at him, he was already looking back. He smiled, soft and crooked.

“Stay for supper?” he asked. “I’ve been meanin’ to try that stew recipe you told Mr. Mactavish about. We can make it together.”

You hesitated. Not because you didn’t want to. But because it had been so long since anyone had asked you anything that didn’t come with a price.

And gods, it was hard to say no to eyes like that—gentle and open and not expecting anything more than what you’d give.

So you didn’t.

You nodded once, quiet, and when he smiled again, your heart ached in a way that had nothing to do with fear.

It was the first time in months you didn’t feel like running.

The kitchen smelled like thyme and onions, rich and warm as the stew bubbled low in the pot. Your sleeves were rolled, flour on your cheek from shaping the bread you’d offered to bake as a side, and Kyle stood beside you, peeling potatoes far slower than necessary just so he could sneak glances.

You caught him once and nudged him with your elbow. “You’re terrible at that,” you teased, grinning.

He shrugged, helpless and boyish. “Never had to impress anyone with my peeling skills b'fore.”

That made you laugh—really laugh—and you leaned over the cutting board, hiding your smile behind your wrist.

“Don’t go shy on me now,” he murmured, voice a little lower than before.

She glanced up.

He was closer than you'd thought. Still holding a half-peeled potato, but now his other hand was on your waist, firm and warm. Your breath caught. You could smell the firewood smoke on his shirt, see the soft scruff on his jaw, and then—

Your foreheads touched.

Like it was nothing. Like it was everything.

Your eyes fluttered shut just as his did, and for a moment, there was only the sound of the stew simmering and the quiet beat of two hearts, nearly in sync.

Then he kissed you.

Soft, patient, and certain.

And you kissed him back, your hands curling into the front of his shirt, grounding yourself in something that felt impossibly real.

A warmth bloomed in your chest, equal parts comfort and fear. Because the moment didn’t feel borrowed.

It felt like home.

You pulled back just a little, your heart racing as you caught your breath. A soft laugh escaped your lips, genuine and a little breathless. “Didn’t know it could... feel like that.”

Kyle’s gaze softened, like he was savoring the moment just as much as you were. He leaned in, his breath warm against your cheek as he spoke, his voice low but certain. “It does when it’s right, Miss.”

Your chest tightened at his words. For the first time in what felt like forever, something felt right. You had spent so long running, hiding, trying to outrun your past. But here, in this small kitchen with the scent of cooking filling the air and Kyle’s gentle presence in front of you, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you could stay for a while.

He smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his thumb lingering against your skin. “You’re not alone here,” he murmured, almost as if he was reading your mind. “You don’t have to be.”

Your heart fluttered at that, but the reality of your past tugged at you like a chain, invisible but heavy. You forced a smile, trying to push the unease away, but the words tumbled out before you could stop them. “I’m not... running anymore, Kyle.”

He didn’t need you to explain further. His smile softened, understanding more than you expected. “I know.” His hand slid from your waist to your hand, intertwining your fingers. “And you don’t have to. Not from me.”

For a long moment, you just stood there, holding each other in the quiet of the kitchen. You could hear the faint rustling of the animals outside, the gentle breeze making its way through the open window, but for once, it all felt like it was in its place.

The weight of the past hadn’t vanished, but it felt lighter here, in this little corner of the world where Kyle’s touch made everything seem a little more possible.

He stepped back slowly, never breaking your connection, his hand still gently clasping yours. “Supper’s almost ready,” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that made your stomach flutter.

“Right,” you replied, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. You squeezed his hand, the action grounding you in the present, in the here and now.

“I’ll be right there,” you said, but Kyle didn’t move just yet. Instead, he leaned in again, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, a promise in that gentle touch.

As he stepped away, you exhaled slowly, fingers still tingling from his touch. Tonight felt different. For the first time in a long while, you felt like maybe you could belong somewhere again.

And maybe, just maybe, you could let yourself believe in that feeling.

You sat across from each other at the small wooden table, the flickering light from the lantern casting soft shadows around you both. The air was warm with the scent of roasted vegetables and the rich, earthy aroma of the bread you’d helped bake earlier. The goats had been fed, the kitchen cleared, and the simple supper you had prepared together was now in front of you.

Kyle took a bite, his eyes lighting up as he chewed. He grinned at you, a playful glint in his eye. “This... this is delicious.” He set his fork down, still smiling. “Thank you for making it with me.”

You shook your head, feeling a slight heat creep up your neck. “You did most of it,” you protested, but there was a warmth in your voice. “I just helped with the bread and the herbs.”

He leaned back slightly, considering you for a moment before his lips curled into a grin. “True, but your bits,” he paused, picking up a piece of the roasted vegetable, “are the best.”

Your cheeks burned at the compliment, but you couldn’t help the way your lips quirked up into a smile. “Flattery won’t get you more food,” you teased lightly, but there was a softness to your tone, an ease you hadn’t expected to feel so quickly.

He chuckled, clearly enjoying the exchange. “I think I’ve already got what I wanted,” he said, his eyes locking with yours for a brief, quiet moment. “You.”

The words hung in the air for a second, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was simple. Honest. The kind of honesty you didn’t know if you were ready for, but something about him made it easier to hear. To believe.

You stirred your food, not quite looking up at him, feeling a knot in your chest tighten slightly. But it wasn’t a bad feeling—it was just... unfamiliar. “Well, I’m glad you think so highly of my cooking,” you said, trying to keep the mood light, though your heart was beating a little faster now.

Kyle took another bite, but his eyes never left you. “I’m serious,” he said softly, his voice steady and warm. “You’re different, Miss. More than you know. You’ve got a way of making everything feel... right.”

Your heart fluttered at that, and you swallowed before meeting his gaze. “And what’s that?” you asked, though you had an inkling of the answer.

He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table, his fingers loosely wrapped around his cup of water. “You make the world a little less heavy, just by being in it.”

Your chest tightened at his words. It was so simple, and yet it felt like something you hadn’t allowed yourself to believe in for so long. Maybe you did deserve to have something light in your life again.

You didn’t say anything at first, just took a slow breath and looked back down at your plate. There was a tenderness between you now, unspoken but clear.

The sound of the wind rustling outside was the only interruption as you both finished your meals. There was no rush, no tension. Just the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.

“Thank you, Kyle,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper, but it held more weight than you expected. “For all of this. For tonight.”

He smiled again, a soft, contented smile, before leaning back in his chair, settling in. “The pleasure’s all mine, Miss.”

And for once, you let yourself believe it.

The evening had unfolded into a quiet, comfortable rhythm, the soft glow of the lanterns flickering in the corners of the room. The meal had been simple, yet satisfying, and the air between you was easy, filled with gentle laughter and light conversation. But now, as the last of the dishes were cleared away, the weight of what was to come settled in.

You glanced toward the door, the thought of returning to the inn pulling at you. The routine you’d grown so accustomed to, the security of blending in, of being unnoticed. But tonight felt different. Kyle’s presence had been grounding, steady, and his quiet sincerity had created a warmth in your chest that you weren’t sure you wanted to leave behind.

Kyle leaned back against the chair, his hand resting on the table, his gaze soft but determined. “You don’t have to go, y’know.”

You hesitated, caught between the life you had built here and the life you had once run from. Your heart thudded in your chest at the vulnerability in his words, the earnestness in his eyes.

“Kyle…” you started, her voice trailing off. The question you had been avoiding, the fear that gripped you tightly, threatened to spill out. What if I stay?

“I mean it,” Kyle continued, his voice steady but laced with an edge of hope. “Stay with me. You don’t have to go back to the inn. You don’t have to keep running from... wha'ever you’re running from. You can stay here, with me. You’re already part of this place.”

You swallowed, your breath catching in your throat. The pull of his words, the sincerity in them, had your heart racing faster than you expected. It wasn’t just about staying for the night or sharing another meal together. It was about something deeper, something more permanent. A future you hadn’t allowed yourself to imagine.

“I—” Your voice faltered. You were afraid of what this could mean. Afraid of what it might feel like to let yourself fully trust someone again. But there was a part of you, buried beneath the walls you’d built, that longed for this. For him.

Kyle’s hand moved across the table, palm up, waiting for your, his expression softening as he watched you struggle.

“You don’t have to answer right away,” he said quietly, his fingers grazing over the table’s edge as if offering you a lifeline, a choice. “But I want you here, Miss. I want you here with me. Wha'ever you need, whenever you’re ready.”

The words hung between you, heavy with possibility. Your eyes flickered from his hand to his face, the conflict clear in your gaze. But then, something shifted inside you. Something told you it was okay to let go, to stop fighting it.

You stood slowly, your legs slightly unsteady from the weight of the moment, and stepped closer to him. Without another word, you placed your hand in his, the warmth of his touch spreading through you.

His fingers closed gently around yours, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Stay with me,” he repeated, a promise in his voice this time.

And for the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, staying could be the right choice.

The night was quiet, save for the steady sound of your breaths mingling in the dim light. The sheets, tangled between you, were warm and comforting. In contrast to the nights you had once known, nights that had been harsh and demanding, this one felt like a revelation. Kyle was slow, patient, guiding you with a tenderness you hadn’t known you needed, but now couldn’t seem to live without.

His movements were deliberate, each touch gentle, coaxing you through every sensation. It wasn’t hurried or desperate—there was no frantic urgency. He savored you, as if every inch of you deserved time and care. His fingers traced the curve of your waist, the line of your jaw, memorizing the soft tremor of your skin. His lips brushed against your neck, soft whispers of praise against your skin, each word making you feel seen, wanted.

You let out a sharp breath when he finally met your lips again, the kiss slow and tender, his body shifting against yours, each movement carefully planned. He was slow in all the right ways, building you up before bringing you down, making you forget everything but him. It was a stark contrast to everything you had once known—his hands were not harsh, they were reverent. His mouth was not demanding, it was kind.

Your body responded, arching beneath him, his name slipping from your lips with a mixture of awe and longing. The passion built slowly, layer after layer, until it was a pressure you couldn’t contain. Your hands found his shoulders, his back, needing to ground yourself, to feel every inch of him.

His forehead came to rest against yours, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you heard words you never expected to hear again.

“I love you,” Kyle whispered, his voice rough but filled with sincerity.

Your heart stilled in her chest, your breath catching in your throat. Time seemed to slow. You closed your eyes, running your hands up his chest, needing to touch him, needing to make sure he was real, that this was real. You cupped his face, bringing him closer, your gaze locking with his.

“I love you too,” you said, your voice soft but unwavering. The words felt like a promise, like something that could anchor you in this moment, in this life that you’d never imagined for yourself but somehow found.

Kyle’s smile was gentle, the way he looked at you made you feel seen, cherished. And in that moment, with him above you, with his warmth surrounding you, you knew you had found something worth staying for. Something real. Something true.

It wasn’t just love. It was everything you had been searching for without realizing it—softness, care, and a connection you had once thought was beyond your reach.

The days had passed quietly, a rhythm settling between you and Kyle. The work, the shared meals, the laughter, it all became part of your new life, one you were growing more attached to every day. The tension from the arrival of the Duke had faded into the background, though it never fully left your mind. You had avoided the village center as much as possible, staying in the comfort of Kyle’s farm, but now, on the third night, as the Duke was about to leave, you could feel it all creeping back.

You sat at the small wooden table, picking at the remnants of your supper. Kyle was across from you, his usual easy smile a bit more subdued tonight. He didn’t press you to talk about it, not really, but he had known something was up.

"I was his wife once," you said quietly, almost too quietly. The words felt heavy, like they had been waiting to be spoken, but you hadn't known when to say them.

Kyle didn’t flinch, didn’t look surprised. Instead, he nodded slowly, leaning back in his chair, his gaze soft but steady. "I know, dove," he replied simply. His voice was calm, like it wasn’t the first time he had processed this.

"You knew?" you asked, voice rising in surprise. You didn’t know how she expected him to react—anger, judgment, maybe pity. But Kyle was looking at your like he had known all along, like it wasn’t a revelation, just a fact.

"Whole village knew," Kyle said, his eyes never leaving yours. His tone was matter-of-fact, and it made you realize something you hadn't thought about—your past, your marriage to Simon, hadn't been a secret to anyone. It was common knowledge, and yet, the people in this village had let you be. They hadn’t pried, they hadn’t pushed you to speak of it. They had accepted you without question, without curiosity.

"Oh," you whispered, a wave of surprise and relief flooding through you. It was as if the weight of the past had lifted slightly, knowing that your secrets had never been the subject of gossip, never turned into something for the village to talk about.

Kyle smiled softly, almost as if he had been waiting for your to realize that. "Didn’t mention it, wasn’t our business," he added, his voice warm but firm, like he was assuring you it wasn’t something that needed to be discussed. The Duke was gone now, and whatever had happened between you, whoever you had once been to him, didn’t matter anymore. Not here, not with Kyle.

You nodded, taking a deep breath, as if exhaling a burden you hadn’t known you were still carrying. For all the guilt and confusion you had felt about your past, here, in this quiet farm with Kyle, it didn’t have to be a part of you anymore. You could simply be yourself. You could be the woman you were now—someone who had found a life you never expected to have, but one you were beginning to truly love.

Kyle stood up then, moving around the table to where you sat. He gently cupped your face in his hands, lifting your chin to meet his gaze. "You’re safe here, dove," he said, his voice so full of warmth and care that it made your heart ache. "With me. Always."

The words, simple as they were, meant everything. And you realized, with a quiet certainty, that for the first time in years, you were free. Free from the weight of your past, free from the expectations placed on you, and free to live a life that was entirely your own.

With him.

Months passed, each day blending into the next with a quiet rhythm that had begun to feel like home. The days were simple but comforting—working at the bakery in the morning, kneading dough, shaping loaves, the warm scent of freshly baked bread filling the air. You had always found solace in routine, the predictability of it all, and it gave you a sense of purpose you hadn’t had in years. The steady pace of your work kept you grounded, kept your mind from wandering back to the life you had run from, to the Duke who had once claimed you as his own.

Kyle never pushed you to leave the bakery, even though he offered time and again. He insisted that you could stay home on the farm, help with the chores, and be with him all day. But you knew he understood. He never pried, never made you feel guilty for the hours you spent at the bakery. He simply smiled and kissed your forehead every morning before you left for work and again every evening when you came home.

The small village had become your sanctuary, the faces of the townspeople familiar and kind. The bakery was a place where you felt useful, where the simple act of making bread for others brought you peace. You didn’t feel the need for anything more—at least, not for now.

The mornings with Kyle were often slow and peaceful. He’d wake up early to tend to the animals, always making sure to stop by the bakery to bring you fresh milk or eggs from the farm. He would help with unloading the flour or carrying the heavy sacks, always with that quiet smile of his. You could feel the ease between you, the unspoken bond that had grown stronger over the months.

And in the evenings, after the long days of work, you would sit together at the small table in the farmhouse, a candle flickering between you. And you would talk about the small things—how the animals were doing, the weather, and what you had for dinner—but it was enough. You didn’t need grand gestures or endless promises. Just the warmth of his presence beside you was all you ever needed.

"Why don’t you stay home today?" Kyle would ask sometimes, a playful gleam in his eye. "You could help me with the garden. Or maybe just sit and rest."

You would smile, running a hand through your hair. "I like the routine, Ky," you’d say softly. "I like being there."

He’d never push further. Instead, he’d simply nod, understanding that you needed this. It was the one thing from your old life that you had held on to—the routine, the simple sense of purpose that came with it.

But there were moments, fleeting ones, when Kyle would catch you gazing out at the farm, lost in thought. He’d gently pull you back into the present, reminding you with a soft touch or a quiet word that there was no need to look back anymore. He had given you a new life—one that was free from the pain of your past—and all you had to do was embrace it.

And you were starting to. Slowly, but surely, the shadow of the Duke faded more each day. The nights were yours to cherish, spent in Kyle’s arms, where you felt safe, where you felt loved. It wasn’t a life of grand adventures, but it was yours, and it was enough.

The evening air was thick with the smell of hay and the soft rustling of the barn. The loft was dim, lit only by the faint glow of the setting sun slipping through cracks in the wood. You and Kyle had just made love, your bodies tangled in the soft bedding of straw. His laughter mixed with yours as you tugged at the strands of hay that had caught in your hair. The warmth of the moment lingered, a perfect silence settling between the two of you, broken only by the gentle rhythm of your breathing.

Kyle leaned back against the hay, his chest rising and falling with each breath. His eyes, always soft and full of affection, met yours, but there was something different tonight—a quiet intensity, like he was holding something in. You could feel the weight of it in the air, the anticipation, but you didn’t know what to expect.

With a slow, deliberate movement, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, worn velvet pouch. Your heart skipped a beat, but you didn’t say anything. He opened it with his fingers, and there, nestled in the fabric, was a simple, delicate ring. His mother’s ring.

He took your hand gently in his, his calloused fingers brushing against your skin as he held it up to the fading light. "I know we don’t need any of this," he said softly, his voice low and sincere. "But I want you to know that I want you with me, always. I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine." He paused, his gaze never leaving yours. "Will you marry me?"

You didn’t answer with words. You didn’t need to. Your heart raced, and in that moment, all the pain of the past, all the fear of what came next, melted away. The weight of the world felt light, the uncertainty replaced with a profound sense of belonging. With a breathless smile, you slid your legs over his, straddling him as you bent down to kiss him, slow and lingering. His hands, warm and firm, gripped your waist as you pressed your body against his.

The ring was slipping onto your finger, but it wasn’t the ring that mattered. It was the way he held you, the way he made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in that moment. You pulled back just slightly, your forehead resting against his, both of you laughing softly.

He kissed you again, and you kissed him back, your heart beating fast, and before either of you could say anything more, you did it all over again. This time, with a different kind of intensity, a deeper connection, as if everything that had led you to this moment had been leading you here.

His mother’s ring gleamed in the dim light, but it was Kyle’s love that sparkled brightest.

You giggled as Kyle carefully cradled you in his arms, bridal-style, his strong arms holding you close. The night air was cool against your skin, but the warmth of his embrace kept you more than comfortable. The crunch of the gravel beneath his boots mixed with your laughter as you playfully scratched at the itching hay that clung to your skin, your dress still speckled with the remnants of the barn loft.

Kyle chuckled softly, his voice low and affectionate as he glanced down at you. “You alright there, Missus?” he teased, a playful gleam in his eyes. “Got enough hay in your hair for the both of us?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help the smile that spread across your face. “I swear, Ky, I’m gonna be itchy for days,” you muttered, scratching again at the hay that clung to your arms.

His laugh echoed around you, warm and genuine, as he shifted you higher in his arms, making sure you were secure. “Well, you’ll just have to deal with it, Mrs. Garrick,” he teased again, his lips brushing over your forehead. “That’s what you get for marrying a farm boy.”

You pressed your face into his chest, trying to hide the grin threatening to overtake you. “Mrs. Garrick…” you repeated softly, testing the sound of it, the words feeling both foreign and perfectly right all at once.

He chuckled again, his breath warm against your hair. “Yup, that's you now. Mrs. Garrick. My missus.” His voice softened, turning serious for a moment, though there was still that playful glint in his eyes. “And you always will be, you know?”

Your heart swelled, the quiet reassurance in his words enough to make the moment feel even more perfect. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him a little tighter. “I don’t think I could be happier, Mr. Garrick,” you whispered, finally letting go of the itchiness and just letting yourself be in this moment with him.

He smiled down at you, and the warmth in his eyes was enough to banish any remaining doubts or fears you had. With him, everything felt right. Everything had always felt like it was leading here.

As you neared the house, he gave you one last squeeze, pressing his lips against the top of your head. “And you’re stuck with me now, Mrs. Garrick. Forever.”

The sun was setting low behind the rolling hills, casting a golden hue over the village. The chapel was small, but it felt like the whole world was gathered within its walls. The familiar faces of villagers, the baker, the farmer, the innkeepers, all gathered together to celebrate a love that had blossomed unexpectedly. You felt the weight of their smiles and the warmth of their well-wishes.

Standing next to Kyle, you could feel the fluttering in your chest, the way your heart seemed to race every time you caught sight of his handsome face, that familiar crooked smile. The same smile that had made you fall for him, over and over again, even on days when life was hard. He looked at you like you were the only one in the world, the way he always had since that first time you handed him bread. Maybe he did.

The Bishop's words were a blur in the background, a soft murmur of prayers, but all you could focus on was Kyle’s hand in yours, warm and strong. You couldn’t stop the heat creeping across your cheeks as he spoke his vows—so sickly sweet, so tender. The words tumbled from his lips with such sincerity, his voice thick with emotion.

“I vow to stand beside you, in every storm and every quiet night. I’ll keep you safe, hold you close, and never let you go. You’ve changed my world, my heart. You’ve made me a better man, and I swear, on this day and every day after, I’ll love you more than you could ever know.”

Your heart swelled in your chest, the words sinking deep into your bones, making your breath catch. This wasn’t like the vows you once heard from your former life—no, this was different. This was real.

You squeezed his hand tighter, your eyes watering as you tried to blink away the tears that threatened to fall. How had you ever thought you'd be content without this? Without him?

The Bishop turned to you, a gentle smile on his face. “And you, my dear, what are your vows?”

For a moment, everything felt impossibly still. You looked up into Kyle’s eyes, the love and trust shining back at you, and for the first time, you didn’t feel like the girl who had run away. You didn’t feel like the broken wife.

You stood taller now, the past a shadow behind you. With a soft smile, you spoke, your voice steady, clear. “I vow to cherish you, Kyle Garrick, as you have cherished me. I’ll walk beside you in the sunshine and the rain. I’ll love you with every part of me, for all the days of my life. You are home to me.”

There was a brief moment of silence, and then Kyle’s hand tightened around yours, and a small tear fell from his eye, the corner of his lip tugging upwards.

The Bishop nodded, satisfied with the vows exchanged, and the ceremony continued with all the joy and love that filled the air.

But you hardly heard a word after that. All that mattered was Kyle, his soft hand in yours, his eyes full of love, and the future that stretched ahead of you both—together, forever.

"You may now kiss your bride."

As the Bishop’s words echoed through the small chapel, the world seemed to pause for a heartbeat. Kyle’s hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek as he leaned in. His eyes locked onto yours for a brief, tender moment, a silent promise passing between you both.

Then, without a word, he kissed you.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was everything. The passion of every moment you’d shared, the struggles, the laughter, the quiet comfort of everyday life—it all poured into that single kiss. His lips were soft at first, exploring, tentative. But the moment you kissed him back, something inside him shifted, and so did you. His grip on you tightened, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, his lips hot against yours, claiming you in a way that was all his own.

There was no hesitation, no fear, no doubt—just the two of you, together, right here, in this moment.

The chapel seemed to disappear, the cheering from the villagers fading into the background as Kyle kissed you like he was trying to savor every second. His hand slid into your hair, tilting your head just enough to deepen the kiss, and you felt yourself melt into him, everything you’d been running from, everything you’d been hiding, falling away.

When he finally pulled back, breathless, his forehead rested gently against yours, his chest rising and falling with the same frantic energy you both shared. His lips were parted in a soft smile, his eyes gleaming with the same love he had sworn to you just moments ago.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, his words vibrating through you like the hum of a quiet promise.

You smiled, still lost in the aftermath of that kiss. “I love you too, Kyle.”

The room erupted into applause, but it felt like nothing compared to the warmth of his lips still lingering on yours. For the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel like the girl who ran away, or the girl with a past. You were just his, and he was yours.

And as the cheers of the village surrounded you, you knew this was the beginning of a life that would be better than anything you could’ve ever imagined.

Kyle’s grin was playful, his eyes twinkling with that familiar, mischievous glint. He walked with you into the house, closing the door behind you both with a soft click. His hands were already reaching for the delicate fabric of your wedding dress, eager to strip it away, but there was something more to the moment than just the anticipation of what was to come. The joy in his eyes, the way he couldn’t stop smiling as he helped you out of the gown, made you feel like the luckiest woman alive. "Gonna give you a wedding night to remember, love."

You laughed softly, your cheeks flushing at the implications of his words. “I like the love we always make,” you teased, your voice low, a little breathless from the intimacy of the moment.

Kyle’s laugh was low and throaty as he kissed your forehead, his hands gently guiding you toward the bedroom. “Been holding out on you, dove,” he said, his tone teasing. “Had to get a ring on your finger before I could show you what I can do with my mouth.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, your breath catching in your throat. You weren’t quite sure what he meant, but the thought of him using his mouth on you had your pulse quickening. You flushed, a shiver of anticipation running through you. “Your mouth?” you repeated, the word leaving your lips more breathlessly than you intended.

“Mhm,” Kyle murmured, his voice low and deep, laced with promise. He took his time, making sure the last few pieces of the dress were carefully removed, letting you step out of it and into the comfort of his arms. “I’ve got plenty of ways to make you remember tonight, Mrs. Garrick.”

You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face as you let him pull you closer, your body pressing into his. His lips trailed down your neck, soft at first, then growing more insistent, sending shivers across your skin.

“I want to make you feel everything,” Kyle whispered, his breath hot against your skin. His hands, now bare, moved over your body, as if memorizing every curve, every inch of you. “And tonight, I’m going to show you all the ways I can.”

You felt your pulse racing, the familiar warmth of his touch igniting something deep inside of you. Tonight would be unlike any other night, and you were more than ready to see just what he had in store for you.

Kyle was a man of many talents, but nothing prepared you for the way he made you feel that night. Every touch, every movement, felt like a carefully orchestrated symphony of passion. He knew exactly where to press, how to move, and when to ease off, leaving you breathless, wanting more. His skill was unmatched, and every time you thought you might finally catch your breath, he’d take you to new heights again.

You must have died and come back five times that night, lost in waves of sensation that you never thought were possible. It wasn’t just the physical connection—though that was undoubtedly divine—it was the intensity of it all, the way his gaze never left yours, the way he seemed to be reading your body like a book, every page turning faster than the last.

And yet, despite all of that, he hadn’t even kissed you yet.

You were so caught up in the feeling of him that the lack of a kiss didn’t even register at first. But then, as his hands gently cupped your face, as he positioned himself just above you, you felt the shift—the tenderness, the deep connection that only he could give. His lips hovered over yours, barely grazing them before finally pressing firmly against you. The kiss was slow, deliberate, full of promise.

“I’m not finished with you yet,” he whispered, his lips brushing over yours before he kissed you again, this time with more urgency, more heat.

And even as you surrendered to his touch once more, you realized that every moment with him had only deepened your feelings. You weren’t just being ravished; you were being adored, in a way that no one had ever done before. It was overwhelming, but in the best way. This wasn’t just about physical connection anymore. This was about being seen, about trust, about love.

And Kyle? He was more than worth it.

UGH MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN , POOKIE @goatgoesmbe

Wonderful ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

Ghost Head Cannons||: Dad Life - Newborn Edition

( No Gender specified for Kiddo or User )

Dad!Simon, who just can't stop staring at his little baby as he holds them in his arms, even when he passes them back to you, he can't stop staring at the little bundle, his head resting on your shoulder.

Dad!Simon, who did cry silently with joy when he was alone with them, processing the fact he's actually got a little family of his own, the possibility once seeming so far from him.

Dad!Simon, who's more than used to staying up long nights, happily taking up the nightshifts while you get proper rest, not letting you take more than needed.

Dad!Simon, who remembers how to change diapers after helping care for his late nephew, so there's no debate when the time comes to it and you're busy.

Dad!Simon, who talks to the kid like he would another grown person, like they'll understand or retain any of rants he shares "'M only sayin', Price keeps trustin' yer Uncle Johnny to handle the recruits, we're only gonna get a army of Johnny's and I can barely handle one as it is." *Baby makes a low noise or flails a tiny hand* "Y'know that's exactly what he did, toss a hand and gruff at me when I told 'im that, but 'M tellin' you, it's just gonna be a headache at the end of it."

Dad!Simon, who goes about the trouble of finding "excuses" to hang out with his own kid, always cooking or helping clean with them in his arms when he has the chance to, "Look at you, layin' about like yer gonna live rent free forever. Oh no, you and I are gonna do some work round the house together, start you early on how things are run here."

Dad!Simon, who, yes, does explain every recipe and chore to the baby. You're not quite sure if he's legitimate about it or it's for his own amusement, but he looks happy anyways.

My man love him some cuddles ✧｡٩(ˊᗜˋ )و✧*｡

Price that instead of settling into your open arms as you lay on the sofa expectantly, waiting for him to join you for a cuddle session, he lowers himself, spreads your legs wider and just falls face down in between them. He hums to himself, groans as he settles, knowing damn well this position is bad for his back, stomach down and all, but his face burried in your clothed cunt, just resting, brought him a peace that was worth the back pain.

The first few times he did so, you were absolutely baffled to say the least, and so incredibly embarrassed. He'd shush you, grabbing your protesting hand that tried to swat him away and lead it to his hair. You're on scratching duty or something, followed by a Be a good girl and let me rest.

With his arms under your thighs and ass cheeks, curling to hug your legs, at times to play with your tummy, he'd lower one of your legs so he could properly watch the television, thumb caressing your stretch marks absent-mindedly.

His beard would scratch against your inner thighs, he'd rub his cheek on your cunt with no issue. He's just getting comfortable, angel, now less squirming, hmm?

Don't get me started with the amount of times he just fell asleep almost smoldering himself into your thighs, arms hugging you tight, face burried deep onto your essence. He'd snore, sigh happily, stretch, subconsciously bury his nose deeper to take a good breath in, a deep hum of appreciation, then go right back to snoring. Sometimes he'd grumble something too, a barked order, a frown, a shiver, telling you it was a full power-nap too, not just his usual "resting his eyes". In those moments, a light scratch on his scalp and he's back to being a snoring log again.

And when he wakes up and he's hungry? He has his favorite meal right there.

that's the main thing 🙂‍↕️🥰

Today in the shower I was thinking about how absolutely insane soap would be in a sleeping beauty scenario

Meeting you at the celebration of your birth, when he’s just a little boy himself. Markedly unimpressed. And yet, when you’re spirited away to live with your fairies— he feels strangely robbed.

He chases a fulfillment that cannot come to pass. A soldier in many battles, many quests under his belt, all in pursuit of purpose. A stray arrow tucks itself into his skull, and the emptiness grows more cavernous and hungry.

Then, to see a gorgeous thing like you dancing with his cloak, reflected crisp and clear in the pond water of the glen… he’s just a man. Maybe something less, actually. But even if he is a beast, doesn’t he deserve to live?

He delights in how you nearly scream when he pulls you against him.

“Ah’m no stranger, bonnie. Ye said yerself, nae? We met before— jus’ in yer dreams, hen.”

He has half a mind (in more ways than one) to pin you to the forest floor against your precious wildflowers and ravage you senseless, but he’s able to restrain himself when you say you want to see him again. Tomorrow, in the same place. He likes this little game of courting— the wait is bitter, but the fruit is sweet, isn’t it?

And he felt it, when he was with you. The pinpricks of a doll maker’s needle gliding between his ribs. Suturing the tear left in his chest. He’s done being rearranged inside. He’s ready to be put back together.

Thus, the lengths to which he goes to find you. The thorns that bruise and tear, the dracofire scorching his shield.

He’s going to kiss the sleeping princess if it’s the last thing he does.

Ok, I had a strange idea that I think, despite how it might sound, has some potential

So my mind tends to imagine crossovers all the time, and I had quite an interest idea a few days ago. Just hear me out

A cross over between “The Rookie” and Cod:MWII

Idk I think, despite how different they are, it has some interesting potential, and I’m thinking about making a small fanfic about it

(I may or may not have already started using Chatgpt to get some ideas)

Also it would probably be a König x OC fic (likely established relationship)

So. Highly inspired by this series

Imagine dying next to Ghost. Alongside him. In bed, asleep together, and it’s no one’s fault. It wasn’t a targeted attack. A gas leak. There was no pain, no panic, nothing. Tragic, before your time, and wrought with the impotent agony that can only come about when there’s no target for revenge.

There are worse things, than being a trapped spirit with the man you loved in the house where you loved him. Despite how all of the world has gone quiet, you can still feel him, and he can feel you.

You can still make love.

But every so often, when he takes you from behind, you feel this sharp, burning pain in your back. You know it’s his doing, but something about him has been so… hard to read, since you both died. Even though you don’t have anything left to lose, he holds you tighter than he ever did before. Won’t leave you alone for a moment. There’s terror in his eyes. You don’t understand it— he died in peace. None of the things that haunted him in life can follow him here. But you don’t have the courage to ask him.

He’ll die a thousand times over before he tells you that he’s ripping the feathers from your back because god is trying to take you somewhere he can’t follow.

Paperwork

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x WolfHybrid!FemReader

Warning: Cockwarming possible poorly written (I'm sorry if it is)

!!MDNI!!

In the echoing confines of the training room, you and Johnny clashed, a symphony of snarls and grunts. Your agility had kept you nimbly out of his reach, effortlessly dodging Johnny's relentless strikes. He begins taunting you, "Dinna fash yersel, wee lassie. I'm just gettin' warmed up."

But Johnny's playful smirk quickly turns into a serious expression as he lunges at you, his movements as swift as a Highland gale. In a flash, he grabs your collar and yanks you harshly to the floor. Your body collides with the soft matts, and Johnny's weight pins you down. 

"That's not fair!" You whine, struggling to free yourself. Your teeth flash as you attempt to nip at his hand, but he anticipates your move and swiftly grabs your jaw.

With a firm grip, Soap holds onto your jaw, preventing you from biting or snapping back at him. His other hand still clutches tightly onto your collar, keeping you pinned firmly against the hard ground. "Aye, tis nae fair ," he says, chuckling lowly as he looks down at you. "But if ye wantae win, ye gotta learn how tae fight dirty."

His eyes, a stormy shade of blue, bore into yours. There's a glint of mischief in them, mixed with a hint of danger. He leans closer, his breath warm against your face, the scent of sweat and gunpowder surrounding you.

"Ye think ye've got this all figured out, eh?" he teases, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Johnny's hand tightened around your collar, pulling you roughly towards him. Your eyes narrowed, and you unleashed a torrent of curses in your native tongue. You fought against his grip, your muscles tensing and straining. But Johnny remained unyielding, his grip like iron.

Suddenly, an idea sparked in your mind. You let your body go limp, your muscles relaxing. Johnny's grip loosened momentarily, and you seized the opportunity. With a swift twist of your body, you rolled to the side, kicking your feet up to catch him off guard.

He tumbled to the ground, his surprise evident. You didn't waste a second, you scrambled to pin him down. Pinning his hands above his head, and you bared your teeth at him.

Caught off guard by your sudden manoeuvre, Johnny found himself staring up at you. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards in a smirk despite the situation. His eyes gleamed with a mix of admiration and amusement.

"Aye, ye sneaky wee devil," he muttered, his voice filled with both respect and a touch of exasperation. "I'll give ye that much... ye're quick oan yer feet."

Even though he was pinned beneath you, there was an air of control about him. It was as if he was enjoying this dance of power between you two. His muscles flexed under your hold, his strength palpable even while restrained.

"But dinnae think ye've won yit," he warned, his tone teasing but also carrying a note of challenge.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the thrill of the chase making your blood rush. You leaned forward, your hot breath tickling his neck as you growled softly, the sound vibrating through your chest. Your tail flicked restlessly behind you, a clear sign of your excitement.

"Don't think I won't bite you again," you hissed, your words punctuated by sharp canines. Your claws dug into his wrists, your grip tightening as you attempted to maintain dominance over him.

The corners of Johnny's mouth curled upward, a smug grin spreading across his face. Despite the pressure of your paws on his wrists and the threat of your teeth, he wasn't afraid. Instead, he met your gaze with a challenging glint in his own.

"Oh really? Ye think ye hae me cornered noo, dae ye? " he teased, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. He twisted his wrists, attempting to free them from your grasp. At the same time, he lifted his hips slightly, creating enough space to swipe one of his legs out.

His leg shot out in a swift motion, catching you off guard. You felt his foot connect with your side, a solid hit that sent pain radiating through your body.

Feeling the impact of his kick, you let out a surprised yelp, your grip loosening ever so slightly. "You twat!" You grunted, your voice laced with both anger and amusement.

At your curse, Johnny couldn't help but laugh, the sound deep and hearty. His laughter echoed through the training room, mixing with the clanging of weights and the hum of machinery.

"Ye called me names," he said mockingly, using the momentary distraction to wriggle free from your grasp. In a swift movement, he flipped their positions, pinning you underneath him once more.

"Now where were we?" he mused, leaning in close until his lips hovered mere inches away from your ear. "Ah yes, ye were aboot tae bite me..."

As you felt his body press against yours, you squirmed underneath him, your tail wagging excitedly behind you. A soft whimper escaped your lips, your breath hitching as his warm breath ghosted over your sensitive ear.

"You're such a bully..." You murmured, your voice barely audible. Your claws traced idle patterns on his chest, each stroke light and teasing.

His eyes twinkled with mischief as he looked down at you, his expression softening just a fraction. Despite the roughhousing, there was something undeniably tender about his gaze.

"Aye, well, someone's gotta teach ye some manners," he replied, his voice a low rumble. His hands roamed your sides, tracing the curves of your body before settling on your waist.

"And besides," he added, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper, "Ah kinda lik' husin ye beneath me."

"I don't know why I put up with you..." you grumbled, though your words lacked any real heat. Your tail swished back and forth, brushing against his thigh in a playful manner.

But then, without warning, you bucked your hips upward, trying to dislodge him from his position. The move was unexpected, and it earned you a grunt of surprise from Johnny.

Feeling your hips rise to meet his, Johnny bit back another chuckle. He was used to your antics by now, the playful banter and the occasional wrestling match. And though they started as simple exercises to keep fit, they'd somehow evolved into something more – something that left him yearning for more than just physical contact.

"Dinnae try tae get outta this," he scolded, his voice a playful reprimand. "Ye might enjoy th' view fae doon 'ere..."

With a swift motion, he captured your hands. This time, however, instead of holding onto them tightly, he cradled them gently in his palms, careful not to hurt you in his eagerness.

"Look at ye, a' squirming 'n' cute," he murmured, his voice dripping with lustful intent.

You push against his chest, but he doesn't budge. "I'm not cute!" You huff, sticking your bottom lip out. You wiggle underneath him, trying to escape his grip. "Don't you have some paperwork to finish? Price will have your ass if it's not done."

Johnny chuckled, the rich sound echoing in the otherwise silent room. He shifted his weight, pinning you more firmly beneath him.

"Aye, ah suppose ye'r right," he said, his voice a teasing drawl. "Bit whaur wid be th' fin in that""

He lowered his head, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, sending shivers coursing through your body.

"Ah cuid always ask Price tae wait a bit longer," he suggested, his voice dropping to a low murmur.

"John MacTavish," you scolded, your voice laced with mock exasperation as you used his full name. "If you don't do this paperwork, he'll have both of our asses."

You twisted and squirmed, desperate to escape his playful hold. Finally, with a surge of effort, you wriggled free and scrambled to your feet. Planting your paws firmly on the ground, you put a hand on your hip and raised an eyebrow at Johnny.

"And I'm not about to get done because you can't do your job," you added, your tail flicking back and forth. Knowing you weren't allowed to walk around the base by yourself, you turned on your heels and walked out of the training room knowing Johnny will have to follow you.

Watching you saunter off, Johnny couldn't help but grin. There was something incredibly sexy about your confidence, your determination to outrun him. It only spurred him on further.

"Och, ah will git it dane a'richt ," he assured you, following closely behind. "Juist as soon as a've hud mah fill o' chasing efter ye."

The chase was on, Johnny's long strides eating up the distance between them. But despite his speed, he knew he wouldn't catch up easily. You were quick on your paws, and he found himself enjoying the game.

"But ah think Price Micht juist appreciate th' mae wirk ah pat in ," he added with a wink, reaching out to grab a hold of your tail.

As he reached for your tail, you swivelled around, swatting his hand away with a sharp, "Ah ah ah. No touching." Your finger wagged playfully in front of his face. "You're supposed to be my handler, remember? Keep me in place."

Folding your arms beneath that tantalizing bust, you smirked. You knew Johnny MacTavish all too well. "Let's make a deal, shall we?" You purred.

Caught off guard by your sudden turn, Johnny stumbled slightly, his hand coming up to steady himself against the wall. He watched you with amusement, your playful demeanour only serving to heighten his arousal.

"A deal, huh?" he repeated, stepping closer until he was mere inches away from you. "'n' whit kind o' deal wid that be?"

You leaned in close, your breath hot on his ear. "I'll sit on your cock while you do the paperwork." You pulled away and smirked at him. "Deal?"

At your offer, Johnny's eyebrows shot up in surprise. A grin spread across his face, the corners of his eyes crinkling in delight. The idea of having you sitting on his lap, your tight warmth wrapped around his cock...it was enough to make his heart race.

"Weel, noo," he began, his voice dropping to a low purr. "That does sound lik' a tempting proposition ."

Reaching out, he placed a hand on your hip, giving it a firm squeeze. "A'richt, bonnie. Ye git yerself a deal."

Without waiting for your response, Johnny grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you up onto his shoulders, carrying you towards his office.

As you were carried over his shoulder, you let out a laugh, your body shaking with mirth. The sensation of being manhandled sent a thrill coursing through your veins, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement.

"Careful there, big guy," you teased, patting his back lightly. "Don't want to drop the merchandise."

He chuckled and carried you into his office, placing you gently on his desk. You jumped down and began to remove your trousers and panties. Watching you undress, Johnny felt his pulse quicken. Your figure, bare before him, was a sight to behold. The anticipation made his cock twitch in excitement. As you turned around, you noticed Johnny leaning back in his chair, his trousers already unzipped.

"You better get your work done," you warned playfully, straddling his lap. "Because I won't move until It's finished."

"Easy thare," he murmured, reaching up to run his hands along your thighs. "We wouldn't waant ony accidents noo, wid we?" Feeling you settle onto his lap, Johnny groaned in pleasure. Your heat seeped into him, causing his cock to harden even more.

"Right then," he said, pulling open the drawer of his desk to retrieve the paperwork. "Time tae git tae wirk." With a wicked grin, he slid his cock out from his trousers and positioned it at your entrance.

You lower yourself onto his lap, letting a little moan slip out as he stretches you deliciously. His hands move to your hips, holding you steady as you got comfy, your body begging for more even as you try to keep still. You lean in, your warm breath tickling his ear as you whisper, "Now be a good boy and get your paperwork done."

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as you rest your head on his shoulder. You can feel his heart pounding in his chest, matching your own as you try to keep yourself under control. You feel him swallow hard, then his hands move from your hips to the papers on his desk, shuffling them into neat piles as he begins to work.

Feeling you settle onto his lap, Johnny bit back a groan. Your warmth enveloped him completely, making his cock throb inside your pussy.

"Workin' solid ," he managed to grunt out, his hands moving smoothly over the paperwork. "Juist lik' ah promised ."

His fingers brushed against your fur as he shuffled the documents, the contact sending sparks of pleasure shooting up his arm. Despite the intense focus required for their task, he could feel his resolve crumbling.

"A'm gaun tae fuck ye sae hard ," he whispered into your ear, his grip tightening on your hips. "'n' ye'r gonnae love every second o' it."

He gave a small thrust upwards, testing how much weight you'd allow him to take. His cock twitched inside you, eager for more.

Your back arches as you gasp, feeling his cock twitch inside you. You bite your lip, trying to hold back the sounds threatening to escape as you fight to stay quiet. You look down at him, your eyes darkening with lust as they lock onto his.

"Only if you finish your paperwork," You purred softly, your tail twitching behind you. The tip of your tail gently teased his nose, tickling it ever so slightly. "Work with me here."

Hearing your soft plea, Johnny couldn't help but chuckle. His free hand moved to stroke your tail, the silky strands sliding between his fingers.

"Aye, bonnie," he murmured, his words thick with desire. "Ye'v git yersel' a deal."

With renewed vigour, he dove back into the paperwork, his other hand keeping a firm grip on your hips. Despite the intense concentration required, he couldn't ignore the way your pussy clenched around his cock or the soft whimpers escaping from your lips.

"Ah hae this sorted in na time," *he assured you, giving another upward thrust. "Ah promise ye tha'."

"Ah, Johnny..." You whispered, your voice muffled as your face was buried deep in the crook of his neck. "Stop moving," you pleaded, your body trembling slightly as you tried your best to stay still.

Hearing your plea, Johnny paused momentarily, taking a moment to appreciate the sweet agony of your pussy clenching around his cock. He could feel every ripple and twitch, each one sending waves of pleasure through his body.

"But," he started, a smirk playing on his lips. "how am ah s'posed tae concentrate wi' ye wrigglin' aboot like that?"

He shifted beneath you, angling his hips so that he could hit deeper spots within your cunt. His grip on your hips tightened, guiding you up and down his length in slow, torturous movements.

"I'm not moving," you murmured, your voice a sultry purr. You pulled your face away from his neck, your eyes narrowing. "And stop gaslighting me." Your words lacked their usual venom. It was foolish to think that merely warming his cock would make him do his paperwork.

Johnny chuckled, feeling a rush of arousal surge through him at your feisty response. He loved it when you fought back, adding an extra layer of spice to their encounters.

"Oh? So ye're nae movin', are ye?" he drawled, his hands tightening on your hips as he began to thrust up into you once again. "Then what's that wee twitch ye just gave me?"

He could feel your pussy fluttering around his cock, clenching and unclenching rhythmically as if it had a mind of its own. His own hips jerked upwards involuntarily, driving himself deeper into your welcoming heat.

"I swear tae God, bonnie," he grunted, his voice strained with pleasure. "Ah'm nae gonnae last lang at this rate."

In a swift and ruthless motion, he swept everything off his desk. Pens and papers flew through the air like a whirlwind, ornaments crashed to the ground, and his work laptop teetered on the edge before plummeting to the floor.

As the last paper settled, Johnny roughly pushed you back onto his desk. Your body collided with the hard surface, sending a jolt of pain through your frame. You let out a whimper as he leaned over you, his eyes glinting with a mix of arousal and dominance.

Seeing the chaos around them, Johnny couldn't help but laugh. His laughter turned into a growl as he felt your body shudder under his touch. "Well now, dinnae say Ah didnae warn ye," *he said, his voice husky and low.* "Ah'm gonnae fuck ye senseless."

Without wasting any more time, he gripped your hips tightly and began to pound into you, each thrust sending a wave of pleasure coursing through his veins. His cock slid easily within your wet folds, filling you completely.

"Gonnae scream my name, ain't ye?" he taunted, his pace increasing.

The roughness of his touch sent shivers down your spine, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. Every single one of his thrusts elicited a loud moan from you, your body quivering underneath him.

"Y-yes!" You cried out, your voice echoing throughout the room. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you held onto him tightly. "I'm going to scream... I'm going to scream your name!"

Feeling your claws digging into his flesh only spurred him on further. Each thrust became harder, faster, more desperate.

"Ah ken ye will, bonnie," he groaned, his cock throbbing inside of you. "Ah kin hear ye pantin', see yer eyes glaze o'er. Ye loue it whin ah tak' ye lik' this, dinnae ye?"

His hands moved lower, gripping your ass firmly as he lifted you slightly towards him. The angle change allowed him to hit even deeper spots within your pussy, making your cries louder and more frantic.

Your body trembled violently beneath him, your pussy clamping down on his cock like a vice. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, threatening to pull you under.

"Yes... Fuck... Johnny..." your words came out in broken gasps, your body arching off the desk. "I..... Fuck I do..." You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you. The sensation of being filled so completely by him made stars dance behind your eyelids.

Hearing his name roll off your lips like a sacred mantra, Johnny felt a surge of possessiveness wash over him. He could tell you were close, your walls tightening around his cock.

"That's it, bonnie," he encouraged, his voice thick with lust. "Let go. Let me hear ye cum."

With renewed vigour, he slammed into you, his balls slapping against your ass with each powerful thrust. The sound echoed through the room, mingling with your screams and the soft thud of things hitting the floor.

Your climax hit you like a freight train, ripping through your senses and leaving nothing but pure, raw pleasure in its wake. Your pussy spasmed around his cock.

"Johnny!" you screamed his name, your voice high-pitched and desperate. "Fuck! I'm...."

But the rest of your sentence got lost amidst the tidal wave of orgasm crashing over you. Your body convulsed uncontrollably, your inner walls pulsating around his cock.

The sensation of your pussy squeezing him tight was all it took to send Johnny over the edge. With a deep growl, he buried himself deep inside you as his own release ripped through him.

"Ahh fuck," he roared, his voice booming through the room.

His seed spilled into you, hot and heavy. He kept pounding into you relentlessly until both of your orgasms subsided, leaving them both breathless and spent.

Caught in the throes of passion, you lay sprawled across Johnny's office desk, your form still trembling from the ecstasy. Johnny leaned close, his forehead resting on yours. "Urr ye okay, bonnie?" he asked gently, his hand cupping your cheek to force you to meet his gaze.

Nodding, you struggled to speak, your body still wracked by the aftershocks of your orgasm. Johnny smiled, his rugged features softening. He pulled you into a tender kiss, his rough hands caressing your skin.

Games

MafiaBoss!König x Mafia!FemReader

Warning: Baby trapping But it's not really baby trapping

There's no German because I don't trust google translate I'm sorry

MNDI!!

In the midst of the opulent ballroom, a towering figure cuts an imposing silhouette. Dressed in a tailored tuxedo, his broad shoulders stretch the fabric to its limit. His blue eyes, sharp as shards of ice, sweep across the crowd, taking in every detail with predatory precision. His gaze lands on a young woman, You. Your presence almost unnoticeable amidst the flurry of high society. You stands alone, your posture exuding an air of defiance and pride. Your attire is simple, yet striking, a stark contrast against the ornate décor surrounding you.

There's something captivating about you, a certain allure that draws him in despite himself. He watches you, intrigued, as you navigates the crowd with an ease that suggests familiarity. Your eyes dart around the room, taking in the sea of faces. You find yourself drawn towards the bar, where you order a drink without looking at anyone. The bartender nods in acknowledgment as he pours you an expensive glass of red wine. You were born into the high life after all.

As you turn around, you catch sight of a man watching you. There's something about him that sends a chill down your spine. He's tall, too tall. His piercing blue eyes are fixed on you, studying you like a scientist would a specimen under a microscope. His presence is overwhelming, intimidating even. But there's also something else there, a hint of curiosity that makes you pause. 

That is the infamous Mafia Boss König. 'Interesting' you thought to yourself with a smirk.

You easily move through the crown, easily charm the single men, married men and committed men out of your way. Giving them empty promises of a good night until you are stood by König, by the way he looks at you, he doesn't know who you are. "Do you know it's rude to stare?" You questioned with a small smirk on your face as you take a sip of your wine. Not looking at him rather the sea of people in front of you.

A low chuckle escapes his lips, the sound rumbling deep within his chest. His gaze drops momentarily to your lips, then flicks back to meet your eyes that aren't even acknowledging him. "Is it? I wasn't aware," he responds, amusement dancing in his icy gaze. His height adds an element of danger to his presence, casting a shadow over you. Despite the room temperature, you feel a shiver run down your spine, a reaction to his sheer size and intensity.

'Aren't you a little kitten, all claws and sass,' he thinks, studying you closely. He can see the defiance in your eyes, the fire burning bright beneath the surface. He extends a hand towards you, offering an escape from the relentless gazes of the others. "Allow me to show you around," he proposes, his voice carrying an undertone of command. "I would," you say, finishing your glass of wine and placing it in his hand like he was some kind of servant. Big mistake, but you don't care. You're playing with fire, and you're enjoying the heat. "But my father is expecting me. I haven't let him know I've arrived yet."

You give him a sultry smile, a slow, languid caress with your gaze. Then you disappear back into the crowd, leaving König holding your empty glass. He's intrigued. He's challenged. He's already hooked. And you, my dear, are just getting started. The glass slips from his fingers, clattering onto the marble floor. A sharp intake of breath echoes throughout the room as everyone turns to look at the shattered glass. But you, you're long gone. Your words hang heavy in the air, a challenge accepted. His jaw tightens, a spark igniting in his eyes. He had been dismissed, by you, a mere stranger.

"Who does she think she is?" He mumbles under his breath, his mind racing with thoughts of retribution. However, something about you intrigues him. The fire in your eyes, the defiance in your actions. It's refreshing, unlike any other he has encountered before. You slip between the bodies, moving with a grace that belies your confidence. You weave through the crowd like a snake, sinuous and deadly. Every step you take is deliberate, calculated, designed to draw attention to yourself. You're a creature of habit, always have been. You love the thrill of the chase, the power you wield when they realize they want you.

And you're good at this game. You're the best. Because you're the daughter of a mafia boss. You've grown up surrounded by power and wealth, learning how to use both to get whatever you desire. You're used to having men fall at your feet, begging for just a moment of your time. Every glance, every whispered compliment, fuels the fire in your belly. You are the daughter of a king, destined for the throne, and tonight, you're playing your part flawlessly.

With a growl of frustration, König pushes past the crowd, determined to track you down. His blue eyes gleam with a dangerous light as he prowls through the guests, his towering frame creating a path wherever he goes. A muscle ticks in his jaw as he scans the crowd, searching for that familiar fiery gaze. He won’t let you get away so easily. No one rejects him and lives to tell the tale. He finds you again, standing by the window overlooking the cityscape below. Your profile is outlined against the moonlit sky, making you appear ethereal, untouchable.

Without warning, he steps forward, closing the distance between you two. His large hand reaches out, gripping your arm firmly. The action is swift, almost violent, but there’s a strange gentleness in his touch. As if he wants to prove that despite his rough exterior, he can be gentle too. "Listen here," his voice rumbles like thunder, echoing across the room. "Don't walk off like that. It's disrespectful." His grip tightens slightly, reminding you of his strength. Yet, there's no malice in his touch. Just a firmness that says he means business.

His blue eyes bore into yours, searching for something. Maybe it's respect or fear, but right now, all he sees is defiance. He takes a step closer, invading your personal space, making sure you’re fully aware of his size and presence. He was studying you, his eyes taking in every detail of your carefully crafted persona. You smiled at him, an innocent, teasing smile that danced around your lips, the corners of your eyes crinkling in a way that was both playful and alluring. You felt his gaze linger on the plunging neckline of your dress, the way the fabric clung to your curves. It was exhilarating, the power you held in that moment, the knowledge that you were captivating a man like König.

König's grip tightened on your arm, a possessive gesture that sent a thrill of excitement through you. You could see the curiosity in his eyes, the flicker of something else behind the steely façade. Just then, a voice interrupted the intimate moment. "Oh, König, I see you've met my daughter," your father boomed from across the room, his presence as imposing as a storm cloud. His eyes, sharp as knives, landed on König, and the room seemed to hold its breath. König's grip on your arm loosened dramatically, his eyes widening slightly as he registered the truth.

At the mention of his name, König's gaze shifts from you to your father. There's a pause, a moment where everything seems to freeze. The realization dawns on him slowly, a creeping dread that seeps into his bones. The pieces fall into place, the puzzle finally making sense. The ice queen he'd been chasing was actually the daughter of his new ally. His grip eases on your arm, a clear indication of his surprise. He recovers quickly though, masking his shock with a smirk that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Of course," he murmurs, nodding as if he knew all along.

You place your hand on his arm, the touch light but purposeful. It's a warning, a silent acknowledgment of the tense game being played. "Yes, we were just getting acquainted," you say, your voice a low murmur in the raucous din. You smile, a dazzling display of white teeth against your scarlet lipstick. The smile is for König, a silent message of your audaciousness, your willingness to play this dangerous dance. Turning back to your father, you continue, "And I was just about to tell König what a wonderful party he's thrown for our family." The words are a featherlight barb, a subtle reminder of your true purpose here.

He watches you interact with your father, the way you move seamlessly between them. There's a hint of admiration in his eyes, mixed with a healthy dose of intrigue. You were more than just a pretty face; you were cunning, strategic, and damn near irresistible. He offers a slight bow, a gesture of respect that's rare for him. "It truly is a pleasure," König says, his voice smooth as silk. His gaze lingers on you, appreciating the curve of your hips, the sway of your breasts beneath the delicate fabric of your dress. He's not blind to your allure, nor does he pretend to be.

As the conversation continues, König remains attentive, his ears pricked for anything useful. He's a predator, always scanning for opportunities, and tonight, he senses one.

You notice how König's eyes roam over your body, taking in every curve and contour with an appreciation that sends a thrill down your spine. You're used to men looking at you, but there's something different about König. His gaze isn't lecherous, it's hungry. Hungry for more than just your body. You turn back to König, offering him another of those dazzling smiles. But this time, it's laced with challenge, a promise of things to come. "Well, König," you purr, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you walked up to your father. "I hope you don't mind but I'd like a moment with my father. Alone."

As you walk away, König can't help but watch, his eyes following your retreating form. A low growl rumbles in his chest, a primal sound that echoes his displeasure. He downs his drink in one go, the burn of the alcohol doing nothing to soothe his irritation. You had dared to dismiss him, and he didn't appreciate it. Not one bit. He makes his way towards the bar, pouring himself another glass. His thoughts drift back to the earlier encounter, replaying it in his mind. He had found you intriguing, a spark of life in a world often devoid of it. He shakes his head, dispelling the thought. Now wasn't the time for distractions. He had a party to attend, an alliance to cement.

You walked towards the ballroom with your father, your hand placed on his arm. The air thrummed with the anticipation of the night; a night that could make or break your family's future. The scent of expensive perfume and cigar smoke hung thick in the air, a potent cocktail that spoke of wealth and power. Once you were far enough away from König, you glanced at your father and whispered, "I know how to make sure this alliance stays. Make it stick in stone."

"Oh really?" your father muses, "Please do tell."

You glanced at your father with an evil smirk, your voice still low as you leaned in. "A child," you whispered. The look on his face was a mixture of disbelief and intrigue. "If we have a child together, then König can't play us. Ruin what you've spent years building. It wouldn't be fair on the child," you explained.

Yes. Baby trapping someone is wrong. You know that, but frankly, you couldn't give a fuck. You were playing a game, a dangerous game, and you had to win. Your father, a master of this game, saw the brilliance in your plan. His eyes, usually cold and calculating, softened with a hint of pride.

As you enter the ballroom, your eyes meet König's, the crinkle in his eyes tell you he's smiling at you. For a man like König it will be a predatory smile. Little does he know, he's already fallen into your carefully laid trap. You'll give him an heir, a child to solidify their alliance, but you'll also be using it to keep him bound to your family. In this twisted game of power, you're playing for keeps. The sight of you sends a jolt through his veins, a rush of adrenaline that leaves him breathless. You're a vision of elegance and seduction, a goddess among mortals. He steps closer, his blue eyes locked onto yours. "Such a beautiful creature shouldn't be alone," he murmurs, his voice deep and husky. He extends his hand towards you, inviting you to dance.

You glance at his outstretched hand, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. You place your hand in his, letting him lead you onto the dance floor. As you move to the rhythm of the music, you lean in close, your lips brushing against his masked ear.

"I'm not here to make friends, König," you whisper, your voice dripping with sarcasm. Despite your words, you can't deny the electric connection between you two. The chemistry is palpable, a volatile mix of lust and danger. "I'm here for my sister, she seems very in love with Marcus," It wasn't a full lie, you did originally come for your sister. He pulls you closer, his strong arms encircling your waist. He can smell your perfume, a blend of sweetness and spice that is driving him wild. He leans in, his breath hot against your neck despite the mask.

"You came for your sister," he says, his tone teasing but laced with a hint of possession. "And I suppose I should be grateful for that." Despite his words, he doesn't let go of you. Instead, he guides you through the dance, each step bringing you even closer. "But if you're not here to make friends," his voice drops to a low growl, "then why are you dancing with me?"

You placed one hand on his shoulder, your other in his. The warmth of his skin through the glove was a shock, a delicious contrast to the cool silk of his suit. Pressing closer, the silk of your dress brushed against his tailored fabric, sending shivers down your spine. It was a dance, but not just any dance. This was a game, a carefully crafted trap to secure what you wanted: König's legacy, his power, his bloodline, and a stronger alliance.

"Well, when my father steps down and I take over," you explained, your voice low and dangerous as you both began to dance together, "we'll be working very closely together." You leaned closer, your voice a silken whisper in the din of the party. "So it only seemed..." you paused, pretending to think, "appropriate to get to know you a bit more."

A smile played on your lips, even as a wave of apprehension washed over you. You were playing with fire, but you were ready to burn. The alliance was not enough, you needed something bigger, something that would cement your power and tie König to your family for generations. This was a calculated risk, a gamble fuelled by ambition and the intoxicating fear of the unknown.

He felt your body press against his, the curves of your form fitting perfectly against his muscular frame. His grip tightened slightly around your waist, pulling you flush against him. He could feel every curve of your body, every swell of flesh pressing against him. The sensation sent a surge of heat coursing through his veins. His blue eyes glinted dangerously as he listened to your words. There was no missing the implication behind them. You weren't just here for your sister. You were here for him, for his power, for his name.

"And exactly how do you plan on getting to know me?" he asked, his voice dropping to a low rumble. The question was innocent enough, but there was a clear edge to it. He knew exactly what you were implying, and he was intrigued. Very intrigued.

The music thrummed through the opulent mansion, a symphony of power and seduction. You move in König's arms, the silken fabric of your dress whispering against his suit. He's a shadow in the dim light, his face hidden by a mask that adds an air of mystery. "I think we should finish this dance," you say, your voice a silken whisper. You look up at him with your big doe eyes, flashing him a smile that makes men fall at your feet. "Then...well, let's just see where the night takes us," you finish, your voice low and suggestive.

König was falling further and further into your trap, his intentions clear to you. You were going to have him wrapped around your little finger, and then, you'd give him the 'gift' of a little heir. A prince to carry on his legacy, and a way to ensure your family's continued dominance. But what you failed to realize is that you were also falling into his trap. You were playing his game, just as he was playing yours. The night was young, and the battle for power was just beginning.

His gaze is drawn to your lips, which part slightly in a smirk. The scent of your perfume fills his nostrils, driving him wild with desire. His heart pounds in his chest, echoing the rhythm of the music. His body presses against yours, every inch of him throbbing with anticipation. His eyes lock onto yours, a silent promise passing between the two of you. "Dance with me until dawn," he whispers, his voice a seductive murmur that sends chills down your spine. "Let's see where the night takes us."

You nod, a coy smile playing on your lips. Your hands slide up his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath the fine fabric of his suit. You can almost taste the victory, the power that comes from being so close to your target. "Until dawn," you echo, your voice barely above a whisper. You press yourself even closer to him, feeling the hard lines of his body against yours. Every touch, every brush of skin against skin is like a spark ignites within you, a flame that grows hotter with each passing moment.

As the night wore on, you danced, drank, and flirted with each other. By the time dawn crept over the horizon, you found yourselves alone in a secluded corner of the garden. The rest of the guests had long since gone home, leaving you alone with your desires. You were sprawled across a velvet chaise lounge, your dress hiked up around your hips as König knelt before you. His fingers trailed along the bare skin of your thigh, slowly moving higher towards the lace edges of your panties. His fingers trace the delicate lace of your underwear, teasingly close to the heat of your core. His touch is gentle yet firm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He looks up at you, his eyes dark with lust.*

"I want you," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "Right here, right now."

"Then take me," you whispered, your voice laced with honey. You reached his mask, the fabric cool against your fingertips as you slowly peeled it away. The smirk tugged at your lips, a mischievous glint in your eyes. As his eyes met yours, their icy blue glinting with a mixture of shock and desire, you knew you had him exactly where you wanted him. This alliance, forged in blood and steel, was about to become something much more personal, much more dangerous. The thought of a child, a heir to both empires, a symbol of their shared power, sent a thrill through you. Nothing could stop you now.

With a growl, he discarded his own mask, revealing the harsh planes of his handsome face. His eyes locked onto yours, filled with raw hunger. Without another word, he gripped your thighs firmly, spreading them apart. Leaning forward, he pressed his mouth against the damp fabric of your panties, his hot breath searing through the thin barrier. His tongue flicked out, tracing the elastic band before dipping lower, seeking the warmth beyond.

A sharp intake of breath escaped you as his tongue traced the elastic of your panties. Your body arched off the chaise lounge, pushing against his mouth. The sensation of his hot breath against your sensitive flesh made you gasp, a moan slipping past your lips. You grabbed his hair and pulled him closer between your thighs, not caring who sees. After all, nobody would dare interrupt König, especially when he's feasting on a delicacy such as yourself. Your fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him deeper, as you met his gaze with a smirk.

You had him exactly where you wanted him. A future with him was the only thing you yearned for, and you wouldn't hesitate to use any means necessary to secure it. The baby trap was already in motion, a silent weapon in your arsenal, a guarantee of your future. König, so consumed by his own desires, was oblivious.

His fingers curled around the edges of your panties, pulling them aside to reveal the slick folds of your pussy. With no warning, his tongue plunged inside, exploring your dripping cunt with abandon. His thick cock throbbed painfully behind his trousers, desperate for release. His movements were rough, primal, but there was a tenderness there too. He knew he needed to be careful, needed to be gentle. Despite everything, despite the power struggle, the fear, the tension, he cared about you. Cared enough to worship your pussy with his mouth, to make sure you came undone under his ministrations.

Your body writhed beneath him, a symphony of pleasure. His tongue delved deep into your depths, exploring every inch of your wet heat. Each thrust of his tongue sent jolts of ecstasy coursing through your veins, causing your back to arch off the chaise lounge. A low moan slipped past your lips as he continued to ravage you, his stubble scratching against your inner thighs. The pleasure was intoxicating, overwhelming, and you found yourself lost in it, surrendering completely to the sensations coursing through your body.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him closer as you bucked your hips against his face. You wanted more, needed more. The need for release was urgent, a burning desire that threatened to consume you whole. Feeling your nails dig into his scalp, he increased his pace, the tip of his tongue probing at your entrance. He sucked gently on your clit, swirling his tongue around the swollen nub before sucking harder.

His hand moved down to cup your ass, squeezing the soft flesh as he lifted your hips higher, angling your pussy perfectly for his devouring mouth. He was going to make you cum, make you scream his name, and then he'd fuck you senseless. He wanted to mark you, claim you as his own. He wanted everyone to know that you belonged to him. And he intended to start right fucking now.

The sudden increase in intensity sends a jolt straight to your core. Your walls clench tightly around his tongue, a clear sign of your impending orgasm. The way he sucks on your clit, swirling his tongue around the swollen bud, is driving you wild. You let out a loud moan, the sound echoing throughout the garden. It is raw, uninhibited, and it feels good. Really fucking good. You wrap your legs around his head, squeezing your thighs together slightly, making sure König doesn't move as he devours your pussy like it's his favourite meal. It probably is, or it will be at least.

Feeling your thighs tighten around his head, he continues to lap at your soaked slit, savouring the taste of your arousal. His tongue probes deeper, curling to hit just the right spots. He felt you tense around him, and he knew you were close. With a growl, he increased his efforts, determined to push you over the edge. He wanted to feel you shudder and quiver around his tongue, wanted to hear you scream his name as you came on his face.

And when you did, he drank you in greedily, savouring the sweet release of your orgasm. He'd worked hard for this moment, and damn if it wasn't worth it.

Your body convulses as an intense orgasm rips through you. Your walls clench tightly around nothing, your pussy spasming wildly as wave after wave of pleasure courses through your veins. König's name slips past your lips in a long, drawn-out moan, echoing through the quiet garden. Your thighs tremble around his head, keeping him close as aftershocks ripple through your core. Panting heavily, you finally loosen your grip on his hair, letting your legs fall open. A satisfied smile graces your lips as you look down at König, his face glistening with your juices.

Watching you come undone under his touch was one of the most satisfying sights he’d ever seen. He licked up every drop of your cum, cleaning you thoroughly before pulling away. As you relaxed beneath him, he stood up slowly, adjusting himself as he towered above you. His cock strained against his pants, throbbing with unspent need. Without wasting another second, he unbuckled his belt, releasing his imprisoned member from its confines. His cock sprang free, fully erect and pulsing with need. It was big, thick, and veiny, promising a rough, brutal fuck.

He didn’t waste any time positioning himself between your spread thighs. Without warning, he thrust forward, burying his cock to the hilt inside your still trembling cunt. You gasp as König thrusts into you, filling you up. The sudden intrusion has you arching off the chair, a sharp cry tearing from your throat. Your walls flutter around him, trying to adjust to his size. You're still sensitive from your recent orgasm, but the pain mixed with pleasure is something else entirely. It's intense, raw, and exactly what you needed.

Feeling your tight walls gripping him so fiercely, he groaned deeply. It was a sound filled with lust, possessiveness, and satisfaction all rolled into one. He started moving immediately, setting a punishing rhythm designed to stretch and fill you. Each thrust was powerful, deliberate, meant to claim you. To brand you. To show everyone who saw you that you belonged to him. He grabbed your hip firmly, holding you steady as he pounded into you. There was no gentleness here, no soft caresses. This was pure, animalistic fucking. And you loved every second of it.

König's grip on your hips is firm, possessive, as he pulls you back onto his cock. You can't help but throw your head back, exposing the delicate column of your neck. Your moans echo through the garden, each one louder than the last. You wrap your legs around his waist, locking your ankles together. You clutch onto his shirt, making sure he can't pull out. With each thrust, König could feel his climax building. He was close, so fucking close. But he held back, not wanting to finish just yet. 

Instead, he reached down between your legs, finding your clit with his thumb. He began to rub it in small circles, adding another layer of pleasure to the already intense experience. His other hand moved to your belly, tracing patterns on your skin as he whispered sweet words in your ear.

"I want you. All of you. Body and soul... I'm going to fill you up until there’s nowhere left for anything else... I’m going to put a baby in you... and then I’m going to marry you... because I can’t stand the thought of anyone else having you..."

His voice was low, husky with desire. Each word was punctuated by a deep thrust, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. Your eyes snap open as you hear König's words, those filthy promises. He's planning on trapping you with a child, just as you had planned to do to him. The realization hits you like a ton of bricks - he's playing you at your own game. But as you look into his eyes, you see that he's not doing this for power like you were. No, his intentions are much more intimate.

He's doing this for marriage.

You can't help but smirk at him, your legs still tightly wrapped around his waist. "Why, you naughty boy," you purred, unable to hide the amusement in your voice. But you have no intention of pushing him away. Instead, you tighten your legs around him and snake your arms up around his neck, pulling him in closer. Hearing your response, he growls, feeling his control slipping. The way you tightened around him, your body writhing underneath him, it drove him wild.

The sounds coming from your mouth were music to his ears, driving him further. He slammed into you harder, almost brutally, his large hands gripping your flesh firmly as he fucked you. His thrusts became erratic, his breathing heavy, his eyes darkening even more with desire.

"Fuck... Fuck..." He cursed between thrusts, his voice thick with lust.

Then, without warning, he buried his face into the crook of your neck, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. The action was possessive, claiming, and utterly primal. It was clear he was losing control, his thrusts becoming erratic, but he wasn't stopping. Not yet.

The bite on your neck sends a jolt straight to your core, causing your walls to clench even tighter around his cock. You let out a strangled cry, your nails digging into his skin as you hold onto him for dear life. Every thrust becomes harder, deeper, faster. Your whole body shakes as another orgasm builds within you, threatening to tear you apart. You can barely think straight, but you manage to mumble out a challenge, "Come on, big guy. Show me how much you want this."

His thrusts became even more forceful, brutal even. He fucked you like an animal, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his release. His large hands gripped your hips painfully, bruising them as he used you roughly. He bit down on your neck again, marking you as his once more. "Show you? I’ll fucking show you." His voice was guttural, laced with lust and possession. Then, without warning, he pulled out of you suddenly, flipping you over onto your stomach before slamming back into you.

His next few thrusts were aimed directly at your cervix, hitting it repeatedly. He wanted to breed you. Now. Here. In the middle of the garden where anyone could see but nobody would dare interrupt. As König flips you over and slams into you, you let out a scream that echoes throughout the garden. The sudden change in position only intensifies the sensations coursing through your body.

Your breasts swing freely with each thrust, bouncing against the chair beneath you. The sensation of being taken from behind, so roughly and aggressively, sends waves of pleasure crashing over you. You reach down between your legs, rubbing your clit furiously as if trying to match König's relentless pace. You can feel yourself teetering on the edge of another orgasm.

König grunted loudly as he felt your hand on your pussy, working your clit while he fucked you. The sight of you touching yourself while he was pounding into you from behind, was turning him on more than he’d care to admit. His breath hitched in his throat as he felt his balls tighten, signalling that he was getting dangerously close. A surge of determination washed over him. He needed to cum. He needed to fill you up right now. "I'm going to fuck you raw every day until you're pregnant." His voice was strained.

At König's declaration, you couldn't stop the moan that escaped your lips. "You better keep your promise," you said breathlessly. Feeling his cock throbbing inside you, knowing that he was about to spill himself deep within your womb, pushed you over the edge. With one final stroke of your clit, you came hard, screaming out loud as your inner walls clenched around him tightly. König groaned as he felt your tight cunt squeeze him like a vice. The sound echoed off the walls of the garden, mingling with your screams. 

His control snapped completely as he felt your orgasm trigger his own. With a few more powerful thrusts, he spilled himself inside you, filling you up to the brim. He groaned deeply, holding onto you tightly as he rode out his orgasm. For several long moments after he finished, he remained inside you, his body trembling slightly from exertion. Then slowly, he withdrew from you, stepping back to admire the mess he'd made. With a satisfied sigh, König looks down at you, panting heavily. His eyes are dark with satisfaction and desire, scanning your body appreciatively. He reaches out, running a finger along your arm before moving lower to admire the bruises he left on your hips.

"You’re mine now." He murmurs, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on your temple.

Loving Husband pt 4

Olderhusband!Price 🤝 YoungerWife!Reader 🤝 I'm not spoiling it for you

Here it is!!!!!

Part 3 Part 5

As they walked into the doctor’s office, John put an arm around you, squeezing your shoulder comfortingly. He could sense your nervousness, but he was just as excited as you were. “Hey,” he whispered, leaning down to murmur in your ear. “No matter what it is, they'll be perfect.” You sat side-by-side on the examination bed, holding hands tightly as you both waited for the ultrasound technician to come in. The room was quiet except for the soft humming of medical equipment in the background.

“Ready?” The technician asked, breaking the silence as you laid on the bed and pulled your shirt up. John squeezed your hand reassuringly, giving you a supportive smile. He knew this was a big moment for them, and he wanted to be there for you every step of the way. She squirted some gel onto your stomach first which made you hissed slightly at the cold jelly. It made John chuckle.

"Don't laugh!" You pouted. "It's cold."

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said, chuckling softly. “But it’s kind of funny.”

She then squirted some gel onto a handheld device and began moving it slowly over your stomach, watching the monitor intently. John leaned closer to the screen, trying to get a better view of what the technician was seeing. His heart pounded in his chest. There was a moment of silence before the technician mumbled a simple "Oh." You looked at the doctor and panicked, "What is it? Is everything okay?" She looked at you and chuckled, "Everything is fine. They're fine"

They?

Yours and Johns head shot up at the words. "They?" You questioned "As in plural?" Your hand tightened around Johns hand, your heart felt like it jumped into your throat as you waited for the doctor to confirm. John's heart skipped a beat at your question, his mind racing with possibilities. Twins? Identical twins? His gaze flickered between the ultrasound screen and the technician, waiting for her to say something - anything. "Yes" The technician smiled before look at you and John. 

"You're having triplets"

John blinked, staring at the ultrasound screen in disbelief. Triplets? 

He glanced over at you, finding you equally stunned expression mirrored in his own. Their jaws hung open, their hearts pounding wildly in their chests.

"Triplets..." He echoed, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked at the technician with wide eyes "Triplets?" You gasped, your hand flew to your mouth in shock, "Are you serious? Three babies?" You started to cry happy tears. "Three babies" You cried while holding onto John for dear life. 4 months of failed pregnancy tests and now your here, at your 20 week scan being told you're having triplets. John wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as you burst into tears of joy. He couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with excitement himself. "Triplets," he repeated, his voice choked with emotion. "That's incredible."

He watched the technician move the ultrasound wand over your slightly swollen belly, fascinated by the sight of their unborn children squirming around inside you. It was a surreal moment, one that he would never forget.

"Look," he whispered, pointing at the screen. "There's one."

You wiped your tears away, sniffling as you tried to compose yourself. "I can't believe it" you said quietly, looking at the screen as you pointed at the second baby. "There's number two"

John grinned, squeezing her hand again. "And look at that...there's number three!"

He laughed, feeling light-hearted and carefree despite the weight of responsibility bearing down on him. They were going to have three children - a whole team of little ones under their roof. The rest of the appointment passed in a blur of information and advice from the technician, but neither of you really absorbed much of it. You both were too caught up in the amazing news that had just rocked their world. On the drive home, you kept stealing glances at each other, grinning widely and shaking their heads in amazement.

"Can you believe it?" John asked, reaching over to pat your thigh affectionately. "We're having triplets!"

"Oh god I've got tell my mom," You laughed as you got your phone out to call your mother. She's probably going to have a heart attack. Hearing that she's going to be a grandmother too 3 babies instead of 1. John chuckled, shaking his head as he listened to you talking animatedly on the phone. He could imagine how your mother must be reacting to the news - probably a mixture of surprise and delight. "It sounds like she's taking it well," he said, reaching over to squeeze your hand reassuringly. "She'll love being a grandma times three."

He sighed contentedly, thinking about how their lives were about to change forever. It was daunting, yes - but also incredibly exciting. "And to think," he added with a playful grin, "we used to worry about getting our laundry done." You squeezed his hand back and laughed, "We're defiantly going to need a bigger house." John chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah defiantly"

"It's crazy how things change in an instant," he murmured thoughtfully, "One minute we're dealing with failed pregnancy tests and worrying about whether or not we'd ever conceive...and now..." He trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief as he glanced over at you. You were radiant, your eyes sparkling with happiness and excitement. "And now we're expecting triplets."

"I feel like this is mother nature's way of apologising" You smiled, feeling the tears falling down your cheek again as John pulled up to your shared house. John nodded, understanding what you meant. It was a bit like fate stepping in and setting things right after all those failed attempts. "Yeah," he agreed, reaching over to gently wipe away your tears. "A beautiful apology indeed." He parked the car and turned to face you, pulling you into a tender kiss. As their lips met, he could taste the saltiness of your tears - a bittersweet reminder of their past struggles but also a hopeful promise for their future.

"Well," he murmured against her lips, "We better tell the lads"

"Ooo let's invite them over for dinner" You suggested as you got out of the car. John grinned, liking the idea. "Dinner sounds good. We could even make it a barbecue." He helped you out of the car (forever a gentleman), wrapping an arm around your waist as they walked towards the house.

1 week later

"I'll get it" You shouted to John, who was in the backyard getting the barbecue set up, when you heard the doorbell. John chuckled, continuing to prepare the grill as he heard you answer the door. He could only imagine the flurry of activity that would ensue once they broke the news to their friends. "Just give me a few minutes," he called back, his voice filled with amusement. "I'm almost ready!"

You opened the door to see Gaz, Ghost and Soap standing there with big smiles on their faces. You hugged them all and invited them in. "Come on guys. John's just in the back setting up the barbecue." As soon as the door opened, Ghost's nose picked up the distinct smell of meat grilling on charcoal. His stomach growled in anticipation.

"Barbecue?" he asked, grinning widely. "Now you're talking!"

They followed you into the house and made their way towards the backyard where John was already busy flipping burgers and hotdogs. "So how's the mother to be?" Gaz asked you with a big, shit eating grin on his face. "She's fucking tired and she's only 3 months pregnant" You answered Gaz with a chuckle as you passed everyone a beer. Everyone laughed at Gaz's question and your response, raising their beers in salute as they took a seat around the patio table.

"Sounds about right," Gaz chuckled, "But you're doing great, love." Soap and Ghost nodded in agreement, their expressions softening with genuine concern and admiration. "And don't worry," Soap added, "We'll be here to help however we can."

"Good" You smiled as you walked up to John and put an arm around his waist. "Because you 3" You pointed to the three men. "Are going to be uncles to triplets." The air suddenly became thick with shock and disbelief as everyone's gazes shot between you and John. Even the sizzle of the grill seemed to fade away for a moment.

"As in 3 babies?" Soap choke out, his eyes wide with disbelief. Gaz and Ghost looked at each other in disbelief.

"Yes as in 3 babies" You giggled as you held onto John tighter.

There was a moment of stunned silence before everyone burst into cheers and congratulations. Soap even did a little happy dance. "Triplets!" Gaz exclaimed, slapping John on the back. "That's fantastic!" Ghost, always the more reserved one, simply shook his head in awe. "Unbelievable...Do you know the gender?"

"Nope not until they arrive" you giggled as you felt the tears coming back to your eyes. "Oh god I'm getting emotional again" you laughed as you fanned your face, trying not to ruin your mascara. John wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close as he leaned in to whisper into your ear. "Don't worry love," he murmured softly. He gave you a gentle squeeze before turning back towards the team. "Alright guys! Who's hungry?"

With that, he went back to flipping the burgers and hotdogs on the grill while everyone else settled down at the table waiting for dinner to be served. You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand and laughed, "I am starving." John chuckled, giving you a playful nudge as he headed inside to grab some plates and cutlery. "Good," he said over his shoulder, "because I've got plenty of food."

Soon enough, they were all gathered around the table, digging into the delicious feast that John had prepared. The conversation flowed easily among friends, laughter filling the air as they celebrated this wonderful news. "I gotta ask" Soap asked as he wiped his mouth, "Did ya conceive in my bathroom?" You blushed deeply and buried your face in your hands, "Oh God, Johnny..." You groaned, peeking through your fingers. "You're not letting that go are you?" You laughed as you hid your face in Johns arm. 

John couldn't help but laugh at Soap's question, shaking his head slightly as he tried to suppress his amusement. "Oh come on," he teased, "It's not like we planned it or anything." He gave you a quick peck on the forehead before turning back to Soap. "But yes," he added with a chuckle, "we did." You looked at Soap with a serious expression "I swear to god, Johnny, If you ever tell our children they were conceived in your bathroom. You'll know about it!" You tried to be serious but you ended up laughing.

Soap raised his hands in surrender, holding up both palms towards you. "Hey now," he said innocently, "I wouldn't dream of it." Despite his words, a wicked grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he playfully jabbed at Ghost with his elbow. "But if he tells them," Soap continued with a smirk, "then I'm off the hook." You pointed at John, Gaz, Soap and Ghost, "None of you will tell them." John chuckled at your stern warning, leaning back in his chair as he folded his arms across his chest. "Of course not," he agreed with a teasing wink. "Our secret."

His gaze softened as he glanced over at you, reaching out to gently stroke your cheek with the back of his hand. "But remember," he added with a sly smile, "they might figure it out eventually." You raised your eyebrows at John, "They are never. Ever finding out." John chuckled softly, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. "They might not find out from us," he said with a playful glint in his eye, "but mothers have been known to slip up..." His voice trailed off suggestively.

You pretended to be offended. "Johnathan Price you take that back" you crossed your arms with a giggle. John raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning widely as he leaned back in his chair. "Alright, alright," he said with a chuckle, "I'll behave."

However, the mischievous twinkle in his eye suggested otherwise.

A few hours later, after dinner was finished and the dishes washed, everyone started to say their goodbyes. They hugged and shook hands before heading home. "Thank you for coming," John said sincerely as he waved goodbye from the doorstep. After seeing their friends off, John turned to find you in the kitchen. He moved silently behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he leaned down to press a kiss to your neck.

"I'm glad they could make it," he murmured against your skin. "But I'm even more glad it's just us now." His hands slid up under your shirt, tracing along your stomach as he pulled you closer against him. You leaned into Johns touch with a sigh of content as you rested one hand on John's and another on your bump.

You were only 3 moths pregnant but you were already showing. By a lot. You should of knows you were having triplets really but it never crossed yours or Johns mind, you were just happy to finally be pregnant.

Feeling your hand over his own, John's heart swelled with love and excitement. His fingers traced gentle circles against your belly as he pressed a series of soft kisses along your jawline. "You're amazing," he whispered huskily, "and so beautiful." His hands moved up to cup your breasts, thumbs rubbing slow circles over the sensitive peaks. As he kissed down your neck, he could feel your pulse beating rapidly beneath his lips.

"Let's go upstairs," he murmured between kisses. "But John." You moaned as you moved your head to the side, "I gotta finish cleaning the kitchen." John chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin as he spoke. "There's always tomorrow," he whispered huskily, His hands slid down from your breasts, tracing lower until they found the hem of your dress. With a gentle tug, he pulled it up and over your head, revealing the lacy bra you wore underneath.

"We can clean up in the morning," he murmured against your lips before capturing them in a deep, passionate kiss. You kissed John back with equal passion as you slipped your hands under his shirt pulling it up slowly as you reached his bare chest. Caught up in the moment, John allowed you to pull his shirt off. His hands moved to unclasp your bra, sliding the straps down your shoulders until it fell to the floor.

"God, you're stunning," he breathed, his gaze roaming over your body appreciatively.

Without wasting another second, he picked you up and carried you up the stairs to their bedroom. Once inside, he laid you gently on the bed before quickly stripping off his pants and boxer shorts. "C'mere," he murmured, crawling onto the bed and hovered over you. "John" You giggled as he crawled up the bed to hover over you. "You're too good to me sometimes" you whispered as your ran your fingers through his hair while staring into his beautiful blue eyes.

John chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with love and desire as he gazed down at you. "Just trying to keep up with my favourite girl," he teased, pressing a series of light kisses along your collarbone. He shifted slightly, trailing his fingers down your body until they found the hem of your panties. With a gentle tug, he peeled them off and tossed them aside. "Now," he murmured huskily, "where were we?" You shivered as John trail kisses down your body and removed your panties. "Oh I think you were about to show your pregnant wife how much you love her"

At your words, John's heart swelled with affection. He loved this feisty, strong-willed woman more than anything, and being able to share this journey with you was a blessing beyond measure. "That I was," he replied with a tender smile, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your thigh. With a low growl of anticipation, he lowered himself between your legs, pressing soft kisses against your inner thighs before moving higher. His tongue darted out, tasting you intimately as he listened to the sweet sounds you made.

John loved every part of you - your strength, your spirit... and most especially your body. He savoured each moment, taking his time as he worshipped you with his mouth. You arched your back as John licked and kissed your inner thighs as he moved closer to your cunt, "John" you whined as you felt his hot breath on your clit. Hearing you whine, John couldn't help but let out a low growl of satisfaction. It was music to his ears, the sound of your pleasure.

His tongue flickered out again, teasing your swollen clit before diving deeper to lap at your entrance. The taste of you was intoxicating, making him groan in approval. His hands gripped your thighs firmly, holding you open for him as he devoured you with an eagerness that bordered on desperation. He wanted to make sure you came undone under his ministrations, to hear those precious sounds of yours echoing throughout the room. John continued to lick and suck at your dripping cunt, driving you wild with pleasure. His hands held your thighs steady as he explored every inch of you with his tongue.

He could feel your body tensing up, signalling that you were close to climax. Not wanting to push you over the edge quite yet, he slowed down, focusing instead on teasing your clit with his fingers.

'Take it easy, love,' he thought to himself, 'we've got all night.'

"That's not fair," you whined as you grabbed his hair and tried to pull his face closer to your cunt. John chuckled softly at your whines, the vibrations sending delightful shocks through your sensitive flesh. He could feel you gripping his hair, trying to guide him back to where you wanted him, but he resisted. "Patience, love," he murmured against your wetness. "We have all night." With a final teasing lick, he pulled away slightly, giving you a wicked grin as he did so.

You let out a pathetic whine in frustration as John pulled his face away from your pussy. You swatted his hands away from you and sat up on the bed, "That's just mean!" You crossed your arms over your chest and pouted. John watched as you sat up, your expression one of pure frustration. He had to admit, it was rather adorable. "I aim to please, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle, leaning back on his elbows as he watched you.

"But if you insist..." With a swift move, he pulled you onto his lap, your back to his front. His cock, already hard and ready, nestled against your ass. "Better?" he asked, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You started grinding your hips on his thighs, desperate for some sort of friction. "No." Feeling you squirm in his lap, John knew exactly what you needed. His hand slid down your stomach, tracing over your belly where their babies were growing before dipping lower.

"Oh?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave as his fingers found your slick entrance. "What's this? Seems like someone's asking for something." With a gentle thrust, two fingers sank into your tight heat. His thumb circled your swollen clit, adding to the pleasure coursing through you. "Is this better, love?" he whispered against your ear, his teeth nibbling playfully on your lobe. You bit your lip as you nodded your head. Your hands gripped John's thighs as you pressed your back further into him and started rocking your hips back onto his fingers.

John groaned at the feeling of your hips rolling back onto his fingers. Your tight warmth enveloped him, drawing a low growl from deep within his chest. "God I fucking love you" he murmured, his other hand sliding around to cup your breast. His thumb brushed over your nipple, teasing it into a hard peak. "Fuck, you're going to make me blow my load without even getting inside you," he confessed, his breathing ragged. Your eyes rolled back as you moaned loudly. Your hands tightened on his thighs as you felt John's fingers slide in and out of your cunt. "John" you whimpered his name like a prayer.

John's heart pounded in his chest at the sound of your plea. He loved hearing you beg for him, loved knowing that he was the one who could make you lose control. "Right there, sweetheart?" he groaned, his fingers pumping faster into your tight heat. "Jesus Christ..." He could feel you clenching around him, signalling your impending orgasm. Without missing a beat, he added a third finger, stretching you even further.

You cried out as you came hard on John's fingers. Your cunt clenched tightly around them as your body shook from the force of your orgasm. You leaned heavily against John's chest, panting for air as you recovered from your intense orgasm. John groaned as your walls clamped down on his fingers, milking him for everything he was worth. The way you trembled and gasped in his arms was enough to drive any man insane. "Fuck...fuck, you're so goddamn beautiful when you cum," he grunted out, his own need throbbing painfully between his legs. But despite how much he wanted release, he refused to take it without giving you another orgasm first.

"Come on, love. Let's get you off again," he growled, his voice rough with desire as he resumed fingering you. This time, however, he focused solely on your clit, determined to send your spiralling into another orgasm. You whimpered as he continued to rub your clit. Your cunt was still spasming from your previous orgasm but you didn't care. You wanted more, you always wanted more with John. "Please" You begged, pressing your hips back onto his hand. John's heart thudded in his chest at the sound of your plea. You were so fucking needy at times, so desperate for him - and he loved it.

"God, you're such a dirty little slut," he growled, his breath hot against your skin as he continued to tease you. "I fucking love it."

His free hand reached around to caress your breast again, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers while his other hand kept working magic on your clit. You surrender to the ecstasy surging through you, a knot within uncoiling with trembling release. Your body convulses in pleasure as you cry out, each syllable a symphony of surrender. John's gaze is fixed upon you, his eyes wide with amazement as he witnesses the torrent of your climax. The liquid gold stains his thighs and the sheets beneath you, a testament to your abandon. 

To John, watching you squirt was like watching a fucking masterpiece unfold right before his eyes. The way your body tensed up, the way your juices gushed out, it was all so fucking sexy.

But instead of pulling his fingers out of you, he curled them upwards, rubbing against that sweet spot inside you that made stars explode behind your eyelids. He wanted to keep going, to push you over the edge once more. And judging by the way you were twitching and gasping under his touch, he wasn't far off. "N-no more baby" you panted as you tried to push Johns hand away. Your body was twitching, you were overstimulated, "Please" you whispered softly. John chuckled softly at your pleas for him to stop, his fingers never slowing their pace. He loved seeing you so worked up, so close to the edge.

"No can do, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "Not until you've given me another orgasm." With that, he lowered his mouth to your neck, nipping and sucking gently at the sensitive skin there while his fingers continued their relentless assault on your cunt. You let out a whine as you felt John nip at your neck. You were so close to the edge but he just wouldn't stop (Not that you wanted him too). You felt your body start to shake as you came yet again, squirting all over his hand. It took every ounce of self-control not to scream his name as you came.

John groaned as your cunt squeezed his fingers once more, your body convulsing as you came on his hand. He could feel your warm juices coating his fingers and dripping down his wrist, and it only served to turn him on more. "Fucking hell..." he muttered, withdrawing his soaked fingers from your trembling cunny. With a swift movement, he brought them to his lips and sucked each finger clean, savouring the taste of you. You were whimpering, your body still twitching from the intensity of your orgasm. You turned your head to look at him, biting your lower lip as you watched him suck on his fingers. You wanted him, needed him inside you now.

"Please" you begged, reaching around to grab his cock. You stroked him slowly, loving the way he groaned in response. John's breath hitched as you wrapped your hand around his cock, your touch feather-light and teasing. His mind went blank, consumed by the need to be inside you. "Christ, love," he groaned, his grip tightening on the sheets beneath them. "I need to be inside you. Now."

You quickly got off his lap and turned to face him on the bed. You hand grabbed Johns hair at the nape of his neck as brought him in for a very hungry kiss. You were both naked, sweaty, John made you cum 3 times, squirt 2 times and yet you wanted more. You needed John inside you. John returned your kiss with an equal amount of hunger, his tongue dancing with yours as his hands roamed your body. He loved the feeling of your soft skin under his fingertips, the way you squirmed and moaned against his touch.

"Jesus Christ, you're insatiable," he murmured against your lips, breaking their kiss. "But I'm not complaining." You giggled at Johns comment about you being insatiable. You ran your hands along his slightly chubby (but strong) torso as you pushed him onto his back on the bed. You climbed on top of him, straddling his waist as you positioned his cock at your entrance. You looked down at him with a smirk as you slowly began to lower yourself onto him.

"You're just as bad" you whispered. John groaned as you slowly lowered yourself onto his cock, taking him inch by delicious inch into your tight, wet heat. He loved the way you fit perfectly around him, how you squeezed and gripped him with every thrust. "And you love it," he teased, placing a hand on your hip as he started to roll his hips up into your. "Don't deny it, love."

You bit your lower lip as you began to move on top of John. You moved slowly, riding his cock as you moaned softly. "Wouldn't be pregnant if I didn't" You admitted with a smile as you leaned forward to kiss him. John laughed softly as you admitted that you wouldn't be pregnant if you didn't love the sex as much as he did. He knew that was true - you always seemed to be ready for another round, no matter how many times they'd already gone at it.

"So lucky you're mine. My life. My world. My wife," he murmured, kissing you deeply before breaking away to watch you ride him. His hands roamed over your body, touching and caressing every inch of you that he could reach. (He's so in love with you, can never get enough) You smiled at John's words "My darling husband." You placed your hands on his chest as you leaned forward slightly, your breasts bouncing with each movement. You loved making John happy. You loved everything about him, even his rough edges, "Every day I thank my lucky stars that I found you."

His heart swelled with pride and love as you called him your darling husband. He couldn't help but return your smile, his own face lighting up with happiness. "And I thank my lucky stars that I found you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You are the light in my life, sweetheart. The one thing that makes this godforsaken world worth living in." 

"Oh John" You whispered and you slowed your movements. You cupped his face and placed one kiss on his forehead. "I wish I had more words to tell you how much I love you" then you placed another kiss on one cheek. 

"How lucky I am to have found you" and then another kiss on his other cheek. 

"How lucky I am to be your wife" and then finally one last kiss on the tip of his nose. 

"How lucky our children will be to have you" 

His heart swelled with pride and love (again) as you told him how much you loved him. He cherished these moments with you, these quiet moments of intimacy where they could simply be together without the distraction of the outside world. "I don't need any fancy words, sweetheart," he said softly. "Just knowing that you love me is enough." You leaned down and kissed John gently on the lips. You pulled back slightly and looked into his eyes. Your hand reached up and moved some loose strands of hair off his forehead.

"I love you John" you whispered as you began to move again. John felt his heart melt as you whispered those three little words. It was always like hearing them for the first time, even though he'd heard them countless times before. He loved hearing you say them, feeling the warmth behind them. "Oh fuck, sweetheart," he groaned as you started moving again, his hands gripping your thighs tightly. "That's all I fucking need."

You continued to ride John, your movements slow and sensual. You leaned forward so that you could kiss him as you moved. You loved making love to John, especially now that you were pregnant. There was something about being intimate while carrying his babies that made you feel closer to him than ever before.

John groaned as you continued to ride him, your movements slow. He loved the way you moved atop him, how you kissed him passionately between thrusts. He could feel his climax building, his body responding to yours instinctively.

"Fucking hell, love," he gasped, his hands gripping your thighs tighter. "I'm gonna... oh fuck..."

You felt John's hands tightening on your thighs, you knew his climax building and you quickened your pace slightly. You leaned forward and kissed him again as you felt your own orgasm approaching. You wrapped your arms around his neck and held on tight. "Oh God John!" you cried out as you came hard on top of him. John's climax hit him hard, his cock throbbing inside of you as he filled you with hot spurts of cum. He groaned loudly, his body shaking from the force of his orgasm as he emptied himself into you.

He felt your climax rip through you, your tight walls clenching around his still-hardening cock. He groaned in pleasure, holding onto you tightly as he continued to pump his seed deep within you. He could feel his balls tighten and churn, sending wave after wave of cum into you. "Holy fuck..." He breathed heavily, looking up at you with a satisfied grin. You placed your hands John's chest, panting heavily. You were still trembling slightly from your orgasm. You ran your fingers through his hair and kissed him gently on the lips.

He let out a soft sigh as your fingers traced through his hair, the gentle touch sending shivers down his spine. He returned the kiss, his lips pressing against yours in a passionate embrace. "That was... fuck, love," he said breathlessly, pulling back to look at you. "You're amazing."

"You're not too bad yourself" you replied with a laugh. Then you leaned down and kissed him again. This time you kissed his neck and then you kissed your way down to his collarbone. You then worked your way back up to his lips again. "I do love you. My wonderful husband" You whispered as you kissed him again. He chuckled softly as you teased him, complimenting him back. He loved the way you would always find ways to make him feel special, even after all these years together. "You know what they say about great minds, sweetheart," he joked, returning your kiss with enthusiasm. "They think alike."

"But seriously," he added, his voice growing serious. "I love you too, my beautiful wife. And I can't wait to start our family." You got off John and laid next to him, you kissed the side of his neck and then you laid your head on his chest. You listened to his heartbeat and you closed your eyes. You felt content and happy. "I can't wait either" you whispered as you nuzzled into his chest "Only 6 months to go." John laid there quietly, listening to your soft whispers and the steady rhythm of your breathing. His arm wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him as he stroked your hair gently. "Just six more months," he repeated softly, echoing your words. "Then we'll finally get to meet our little ones."

You felt John get up and out of bed, "Where are you going?" You asked, your eyebrows slightly furrowing as you watched him put his boxers back on. John kissed your forehead with a small chuckle, "I'm looking after my darling wife and running her a well needed bath." He smiled warmly as he spoke, his hand gently caressing your cheek. The thought of taking care of you, of providing comfort and relaxation, brought a sense of satisfaction to him. "Besides," he added playfully, "I wouldn't mind seeing my gorgeous wife soaking in bubbles."

With a final kiss to your forehead, John left their bedroom and headed towards the bathroom. As he passed by the hallway mirror, he caught sight of his reflection - an older man, but one who was clearly devoted to his wife. A smile crept onto his face as he thought about their upcoming bundle of joys.

Once in the bathroom, he turned on the taps and adjusted the temperature of the water before pouring in a generous amount of bubble bath. You sat up in bed and watched John leave the room. You looked down at your stomach and rubbed it gently and smiled as you thought about the babies growing inside of you. After a few minutes you got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. When you opened the door, you saw John filling the tub with warm water and bubbles. You smiled and walked over to him and hugged him from behind, snuggling your face into his bare back.

He turned around to face you, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close. He smiled, kissing the top of your head gently. "There's my lovely wife," he murmured, his voice low and affectionate. "Go ahead and enjoy your bath. I'll be right here if you need anything." You nodded your head and stepped away from John, you stepped into the bathtub and sank down into the warm bubbles. You sighed contently as you relaxed in the tub while John sat on the floor next to the bath tub, when he isn't at the base or deployed he's stuck to you like glue, never lets you out of his sight. Even more so now that you're pregnant.

John sat by the edge of the bathtub, watching as you sank into the bubbles. His eyes followed the curve of your body, admiring your beauty despite your casual posture. "It won't be long now," he commented casually, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. "Before we have three miniature versions of you running around." You laughed lightly as you heard him speak. You rested your head back on the edge of the tub and looked over at him, "Well hopefully they take after their father a bit more than me" you teased, winking at him.

John chuckled softly, shaking his head in mock denial. He knew that he wasn't as physically fit as he used to be, but it was flattering to hear you suggest otherwise. "Don't sell yourself short, sweetheart," he said with a playful smirk. "You've kept this old man on his toes for years."

"Oh shut up" you rolled your eyes at John's comment but couldn't help but laugh. "You're not that old." He chuckled softly, leaning back against the wall as he watched you relax in the tub. Your laughter filled the room, a sound that always managed to brighten his day. "Well, I may not be ancient yet," he quipped jokingly, "But I certainly feel it sometimes."

"You're not even 40 yet" you giggled as you flicked some water at him. You rested your head back on the edge of the tub, "Ancient my arse" you mumbled with a smile. John laughed heartily at your comment, dodging the water you flicked at him. He reached out, his fingers brushing against yours lightly. "Touché," he said with a toothy grin. "But just remember, age brings wisdom...and plenty of grey hairs."

"Mhm I like the gray hairs" you leaned over to grab his chin so you could bring his face closer to yours. "My husband is turning into a silver fox," you placed a gentle kiss on his lips "And here I was thinking you couldn't get any sexier." John's cheeks flushed slightly at your compliment, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement and something deeper. He returned your kiss, his lips lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. "You're too kind, sweetheart," he murmured, pulling back to look into your eyes. "But I must admit, hearing you say things like that does make an old man feel quite flustered."

You winked at John as you moved back into the bubbles, letting them cover your chest. Your hands slid through your wet hair as you sighed contently. "I can tell you're blushing" you teased him again. He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to hide his blush. He loved these playful exchanges with you, finding them endearing and enjoyable. "I am not!" he protested good-naturedly, though the slight pink hue on his cheeks betrayed him. "Just...warm from sitting here."

"You, Johnathan Price, are an awful liar" you smirked as you closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth of the bath, "You know better than to try and lie to your wife." John groaned slightly, throwing up his hands in mock defeat. He couldn't deny the truth in your words; you had always been able to read him like an open book. "Fine, maybe I'm blushing a little," he admitted with a sheepish grin. "But only because you make me feel so...special."

You laughed softly as you felt John's hand brush against yours. You opened your eyes and looked over at him, smiling warmly. "That's because you are special" you said softly, "To me you're everything." His heart swelled at your words, his grip tightening around your hand. He brought your knuckles to his lips, planting a soft kiss on them. "And you, my dear wife," he said sincerely, "Are everything to me."

You squeezed John's hand as you felt tears welling up in your eyes. You smiled softly as you listened to John speak. You were truly blessed to have such a caring and loving man by your side, "I love you" you whispered softly. John's chest tightened at your words, his heart pounding in his chest (I don't think he can handle any more sweet words from you). He squeezed your hand gently, bringing it to his lips once more. "And I love you, sweetheart," he replied, his voice thick with emotion. "More than words can ever express."

"Now will you be a dear and wash my back please" you smiled sweetly at him as you passed him a loofah and a bottle of your favourite, and expensive (John bought you 5 bottles. He doesn't care because he loves spoiling you), body wash. John nodded, taking the loofah and body wash from your hand. He poured a generous amount of the luxurious liquid onto the sponge, creating a rich lather before reaching behind you. "With pleasure," he said, his fingers gently massaging your skin as he worked the soap into your flesh. 

"It's the least I can do for my beautiful wife."

You let out a soft moan as John started washing your back. His touch was gentle but firm, making sure to scrub away all the dirt and grime from the day. It felt heavenly. "Just to think. You'll be shaving my legs for me in the next couple of months" you hummed at the thought. Your belly so swollen you can't even see your feet. John chuckled softly at your remark, his fingers continuing their gentle massage. He couldn't help but marvel at the miracle of life - soon they would welcome three new members into their family. "That's right, love," he said with a hint of awe in his voice. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

You turned to face John, resting your elbows on the edge of the bathtub as you looked up at him. Your fingers traced along the lines of his face, memorizing every detail. "I can't wait to meet our babies" you said softly. His heart swelled with pride and joy (Seriously. His heart will burst) at your words, his gaze softening as he looked down at you. He gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your lower lip tenderly. "I can't wait either, sweetheart," he gave you a warm smile. "You've made this old soldier very proud, sweetheart."

You kissed John's thumb as he brushed it across your lips. You then kissed his hand gently as you held it tightly in yours, you closed your eyes and sighed happily. "Keep talking like that and I'll cry" being pregnant sent your hormones crazy, making you very emotional at times. The other day you cried because you saw a Corgi. (A very happy, very loved and a very looked after corgi) John chuckled softly at your comment, squeezing your hand gently. He knew pregnancy had its ups and downs, but he also knew you were strong enough to handle anything life threw at you. "Apologies, darling," he teased. "Didn't mean to make you all sentimental."

You giggled softly as John helped you out of the bath, "don't apologize! I like seeing you being sweet and thoughtful" you said softly. "It's one of the many reasons why I fell for you." He helped you to your feet, steadying you as you stepped out of the tub. He wrapped a large towel around your body, carefully drying off each droplet of water from your skin. "And what else did you fall for?" He asked playfully, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "My charm? My wit? Or perhaps my devilishly handsome looks?"

You rolled your eyes as John teased you. You leaned in close to him, whispering in his ear "Oh John, don't flatter yourself. It was definitely your cooking" you half joked, his cooking was defiantly the one things that drew you in. John feigned a look of hurt, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. "Ouch, sweetheart," he said teasingly. "After all these years, I thought you finally realized it was my irresistible charm that won you over."

"But if you insist on believing it's my cooking," he added with a playful wink, "I suppose I can't argue with that." You poked John's chest lightly as you walked past him and to your bedroom. You grabbed one of John's old t-shirts and slipped it on, turning to face him. "Come to bed, old man" you called to him. With a chuckle, John followed your command, stripping off his boxers before slipping under the covers beside you. He pulled you into his arms, nuzzling into your neck affectionately. "And don't you forget it," he murmured against your skin. "Best cook in the world right here."

You giggled softly as John nuzzled into your neck. You ran your fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp. It always drove him wild, "Goodnight baby" you whispered softly. John sighed contentedly at your touch, his eyes drifting shut as he snuggled closer to you. He pressed a kiss to your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "Good night, sweetheart," he murmured softly, already feeling himself drift off to sleep.

As you drifted off to sleep, John lay awake for a while longer, listening to the steady rhythm of your breathing. He traced his fingers along your arm gently, taking in the scent of your hair and savouring the moment. There was something truly magical about sharing a bed with the woman he loved, especially now that they were expecting triplets. Life didn't get any better than this, he thought to himself as he finally succumbed to sleep.

You woke up the next morning to an empty bed, John wasn't laid next to you like he always is. You slowly got out of bed and made your way downstairs to find the house was spotless, every surface gleaming and everything put away neatly. John was in the living room, reading the newspaper while sipping his tea. As soon as he heard you coming down, he folded the paper and set it aside, setting his mug down as well. "Mornin', sweetheart," he greeted you with a warm smile, getting up to give you a quick peck on the lips before heading towards the kitchen.

You returned John's greeting with a small smile, walking over to sit on the couch. You watched as John went to make breakfast, shaking your head slightly as you did so. "You're spoiling me" you called to him. John returned to the living room, a plate of toast and eggs in hand. He sat down beside you, handing you the plate before sitting back comfortably in his seat. "Can't have my pregnant wife doing all the work," he said with a gentle smirk. "Besides, it's not everyday we get to enjoy this peace and quiet."

You took the plate of food from John, smiling softly as you started to eat. You rested your hand on your stomach, thinking about the babies growing inside you. "We should look at houses today." He nodded in agreement, finishing off his own breakfast before putting his empty plate on the coffee table. He turned to face you, resting a hand on your thigh comfortingly. "I've been looking at some places online," he admitted. "But nothing really caught my eye... yet."

You finished your breakfast, rubbing your belly gently as you thought about the babies. You smiled softly as you looked at John, "I'm thinking somewhere in the countryside, with a big garden. Maybe a field. Could even get some chickens." John chuckled softly at your idea, picturing their little family running around in a big garden with a bunch of chickens. "That does sound nice, sweetheart," he agreed. "And maybe we could even get a dog... or two."

"And a nice big house. Do what we want with it" you laughed softly as you imagined having a farmyard. You stood up stretching your arms above your head, yawning softly. "Build anything we want for the kids, like a slide, mini zip line attached to a tree house" John listened attentively to your ideas, nodding along in agreement. The thought of building such things for their children filled him with excitement and joy. "That sounds absolutely perfect, sweetheart," he said warmly. "A proper home for our little ones..." He paused for a moment, gazing at you lovingly before adding, "and a place where we can grow old together."

You blushed slightly as you saw the love in John's eyes. You stood there for a moment, watching as John got up and stretched too. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close for a soft kiss. John melted into the kiss, returning it with equal parts passion and tenderness. His hands moved to rest on your hips, holding you tightly against him. When they broke apart, both of them were panting slightly, but there was no denying the love and desire in each other's eyes. "You keep kissing me like that, sweetheart," he said with a low growl, "and we might end up forgetting about house hunting altogether."

You giggled softly as you felt John's hands on your hips. You kissed his cheek softly, pressing your body against his "That sounds like a very tempting offer, but I think we need to go house hunting first. Then we can come home and do what we please." You gave him one lass kiss on his chin before walking back upstairs to changed into some clothes for the day. Even though your words were teasing, John couldn't help but feel excited by the promise behind them. He watched you walk away, admiring the sway of your hips and the curve of your ass.

You walked upstairs, humming softly as you went into the bedroom. You was looking through your wardrobe for some clothes when you suddenly felt warm. Too warm. You felt faint and dizzy. You took a deep breath and sat on your bed. "Fucking hell" you mumbled before running to the bathroom to throw up. Hearing your curse, John immediately came running after you. Seeing you throwing up, he knelt down beside you, stroking your back soothingly as you purged your system. "Oh sweetheart," he murmured, sounding concerned. "Do you need anything?"

You shook your head as you leaned away from the toilet, "I'm alright." Seeing the worry etched in Johns face you brought your hand up to cup his cheek. "I'm alright John. I promise, just a bit of morning sickness. That's all." John helped you onto your feet before you went to brush your teeth. He let out a relieved sigh upon hearing your assurance. Still, he couldn't help but worry a little, especially since you were carrying their triplets.

"Are you sure, sweetheart?" he asked, placing a hand on your belly protectively. "If you need to rest, then we can postpone house hunting for another day." His voice was filled with concern and love, wanting nothing more than to ensure your wellbeing and that of their unborn children. You brushed your teeth, rinsing your mouth out before spitting into the sink. You wiped your mouth on a towel before turning to face him, "John. Stop fretting, I'm okay." You smiled softly before you went back to the bedroom to change. 

Sensing that you didn't want to be fussed over, John reluctantly stopped hovering. However, his protective instincts kicked in hard when it came to you, so he made sure to sit on the edge of the bed, keeping a watchful eye on you as you changed into a sundress. "You've got that look, John." You didn't even need to glance at him to sense the anxiety etched upon his visage.

With effortless grace, you moved towards him, nestling between his thighs. Your gentle hands cupped his cheeks, tilting his head upward. Silence fell between you, yet the unspoken words resonated through your souls.

Your gaze roamed his features, each one a masterpiece in itself. His cerulean eyes held the depth and mystery of the ocean, their surface shimmering under the ambient light. A single freckle graced his nose, a charming reminder of his endearing imperfections.

And his lips—oh, those lips! They whispered sweet nothings in the darkness, painting vivid dreams upon the whispers of the night. As you gazed upon his face, you felt an overwhelming sense of admiration and love that eclipsed all else. 

At your touch, John felt himself melt. Your fingers were always magic, able to soothe away the worries that plagued him like ghosts. When you tilted his head back, exposing his throat, he couldn't resist a small shiver. Butchered as he was by war, you had pieced him back together, making him whole again. And right now, he was basking in your warmth, letting your touch do its healing work. Your eyes held an intensity that pierced right through to his soul. "I can't help it, sweetheart," his voice rumbled with a mix of exasperation and fondness. "You know I'd do anything for you." You smile softly, leaning in to kiss him gently on the lips. "I know you would, John. But you're worrying over nothing. I'm fine. It's just morning sickness" you placed your hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat beneath your palm.

As your lips met his own, John couldn't help but feel his worries fade away. The sensation of your soft lips against his own was enough to make everything else seem insignificant. "But you're worth worrying about, sweetheart," he murmured, nuzzling into your neck. "I can't help but worry when it comes to you and our babies." You run your fingers through his hair, smiling softly as you lean in to kiss him once more, "One of the many reasons I love about you. One of the many reason why I said yes when you asked me to marry you." You pulled away from John and admired him one more time.

He couldn't help but lean into your touch. He loved the way you made him feel, adored the way you looked at him as if he were the most precious thing in your world. "And one of the many reasons I worship the ground you walk on, sweetheart," he replied, his voice filled with affection and devotion. "You're my everything. My rock, my lover, my best friend..."

He paused for a moment, taking your hand in his and pressing it to his chest. "My wife..."

Your eyes sparkled with love and happiness as you listened to John. You leaned down and kissed him again, this time not holding back. Your tongue slipped past his lips, exploring his mouth hungrily. After pulling away, you rested your forehead against his, panting slightly. Your body tingled with anticipation, craving for more. Your hands started to roam over his body, tracing the contours of his muscles, making him shudder with pleasure. "You’re such a good man, John. So caring, so loving..." You murmured, biting your lip as you watched his reactions to your touches. Feeling your tongue slide past his lips, John couldn't help but respond in kind. Their tongues danced together, a slow and sensual tango that left them both breathless.

When they finally broke apart, John could see the desire in your eyes. It mirrored his own, burning bright and hot. His hands found their way to your hips, holding you close as you explored his body. "And you're my everything, sweetheart," he murmured back, his voice husky with desire. "The woman who stole my heart and made me the happiest man alive."

Your hands continued to explore his body, sliding up to caress his chest. You bit your lip, watching him closely as you spoke "We should go house hunting soon... " You giggled softly, resting your head on his shoulder. Hearing you giggle sent a thrill down his spine. He loved hearing that sound, "We will, sweetheart," John assured you, his voice dropping lower as he watched you bite your lip. He loved watching you, seeing the desire in your eyes and the way your body reacted to his touch. His hands slid down to rest on your ass, giving it a firm squeeze as he pulled you onto his lap. He groaned softly, feeling his cock twitch at the contact.

Softly, you gasp as John's hand reaches out to squeeze your ass, the electricity of his touch igniting your body. Your hips grind against his, the wetness between your legs seeping through your panties and his pants.

"John," you murmur, your voice a ragged whisper. "We need to...to..."

The words die in your throat as John's tongue invades your mouth, silencing any coherent thought. His breath is hot against your skin, his hands roaming your body, igniting a fire that consumes you. You're helpless in his embrace, addicted to the rush of his touch, the taste of his kiss. The house hunting you had planned becomes an afterthought, lost in the haze of desire that envelops you. Feeling you squirm against him only fuelled his desire. His hands roamed over your body, exploring each curve and valley until he reached your ass, squeezing it firmly.

"Oh, sweetheart" John murmured against your lips before trailing kisses down your neck. "We definitely need to..." His voice trailed off as he lifted you up, placing you on the dressing table near their bed. He quickly undid his pants, freeing his hard cock before pushing your dress up around your waist. "Just let me take care of that need for you," he murmured, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your belly. Gasping as John presses a soft kiss to your belly, your back arches, pressing your stomach further into his lips. Your hands find their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the greying strands as you moan softly.

Your body trembles with need, every nerve ending on fire. Your pussy throbs, desperate for attention. Your nipples are hard points under your bra, begging for attention. "Please, John," you beg, biting your lip as you watch him approach your pussy. The sight of his thick cock makes your mouth water, but right now, all you want is his tongue. Feeling your fingers tangle in his hair, John couldn't help but let out a low growl of desire. Your pleas only served to stoke the flames within him, driving him wild with lust.

With a swift move, he knelt before you, his hands gripping your thighs as he pushed them wider apart. His fingers hooked into the elastic of your panties, pulling them aside. His gaze lingered on your pussy, drinking in the sight of your wet folds before lowering his head. His tongue darted out, licking along your slit teasingly before delving deeper. He groaned in delight as the taste of you filled his senses, sending waves of pleasure coursing through him. A loud moan ripped from your throat as John's tongue lapped at your folds. Your hips bucked upward, seeking more of that delicious sensation. But then he pulls away, leaving you panting and needy. Your nails dig into his scalp, urging him to continue. "Don't stop," you begged, your voice hoarse with desire. "Please don't fucking stop."

Hearing your plea, John couldn't help but smile against your pussy. He loved hearing you beg for him. He obliged, resuming his ministrations with renewed vigour. His tongue delved deeper into your folds, swirling around your clit before dipping inside you. He groaned in pleasure, feeling your walls clench around nothing as he fucked you with his tongue. His hands moved up to grip your hips tightly, holding you steady as he devoured you. He was determined to make sure you came hard, screaming his name as you did.

Feeling your walls clench around nothing, John couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. He loved making you feel good, loved seeing you lose control. He continued to lick at you, his tongue delving deep inside you as he felt you start to quake. He knew you were close, so he doubled his efforts, sucking on your clit as he thrust two fingers into your tight cunt. "Come for me, sweetheart," he murmured against your cunt, his voice muffled by your folds. He wanted to hear you scream his name, wanted to taste you as you came.

A sharp cry tore from your throat as John's tongue thrust deep inside you. Your whole body shook, pleasure rippling through your veins like wildfire. Your pussy clenched tight around his probing tongue. His name was a mantra on your lips, a prayer and a curse rolled into one. Over and over again, you screamed it as waves of orgasm crashed over you. Your juices gushed forth, soaking his face and staining his shirt. Feeling your walls clamp down on his tongue, John sucked in a breath through his nose, savouring the taste of you. He loved tasting you, loved the way your body quivered beneath his touch.

He slowly withdrew his fingers and tongue, cleaning himself off with his tongue before sitting back on his heels. His eyes were dark with lust as he looked up at you. He could see the flush on your cheeks, the way your chest rose and fell rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. "You're such a fucking goddess," he said, his voice rough with desire. He stood up, towering over you as he gripped your chin gently, forcing you to look up at him.

Panting heavily, you could do nothing but nod in agreement. You were still trembling, your legs weak as a noodle. But even though you were shaking, there was a satisfied smirk on your face. You moaned softly as John gripped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. There was something about being held captive by those blue eyes of his that made you melt. You loved it, loved everything about this man. As he towered over you, looking down at you with that hungry expression, you found yourself reaching out to pull him closer. You needed more, needed him to fill you completely. Watching you reach out for him, John couldn't resist. He closed the gap between them in a heartbeat, his hands moving to cup your face as he leaned down to capture your lips with his own. His kiss was possessive, demanding, but also gentle. It was a mix of love and hunger.

As you kissed, John reached down to position his cock at your entrance. Without breaking the kiss, he pushed inside you, groaning into your mouth as he felt your walls stretch to accommodate him. Moaning into John's kiss, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer to him. Your tongue dances with his, lost in the intoxicating flavour that is uniquely John. The feeling of his cock filling you sends shivers down your spine. You gasp against his lips as he pushes deeper, stretching you wide. You can feel every inch of him, filling you completely. Your hips begin to rock against his, grinding down onto his length as you try to take more of him inside. Your body moves instinctively, seeking that sweet spot deep within you that only he can hit just right.

Feeling your hips grind against his, John couldn't hold back any longer. He began to thrust into you, setting a slow and deliberate pace. Every stroke was designed to hit that sweet spot deep inside you, making you moan and squirm underneath him. One hand left your face to grip her thigh, lifting it high over his hip as he pounded into you. The angle change had him hitting that spot even better, and soon he was groaning as well. His thrusts became harder, faster, as he chased his own release. His other hand left your face to wander lower, to tease at your swollen clit. He knew you were sensitive after your orgasm, but he also knew you liked it rough. So he teased you mercilessly, pinching and flicking until you were whimpering beneath him.

When his hand lifted your leg higher, you let out a strangled cry. The new angle had him hitting that sweet spot perfectly, and you could do nothing but beg for more. "Fuck... oh fuck, John!" You cried out, your voice raw and desperate. You his your face into his neck as you placed on hand on the dressing table underneath you to keep you up right.

Feeling your nails dig into his back, John couldn't help but grunt in satisfaction. He quickened his pace, thrusting into you with all the strength in his powerful body. His balls tightened as he felt his climax approaching, and he knew he wouldn't last much longer. He groaned out your name, his voice hoarse with desire. He was close, so very close, and he knew he'd find his release soon. Feeling John's thrusts become more forceful, you can barely form words. All you can do is arch your back and scream his name. Your pussy clenches tightly around his cock, trying to milk him for his release.

"Oh God, John! I'm gonna... ah! I'm gonna cum again!" You cried out, your voice shaky and filled with desperation. You could feel another orgasm building, stronger than the last one. Hearing your cries and feeling your pussy clench around his cock, John knew he wasn't going to last much longer. His thrusts became erratic as he chased his own release, pounding into you with abandon. But then you cried out that you were going to cum again, and that was all it took. With a roar of your name, he came hard inside you. His seed spilled deep within you, filling you up as he rode out his orgasm.

As he slowed down, he moved his hand away from your clit and instead wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. He pressed his forehead against your as he panted for breath, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm. Gasping for air, you collapse against John, your body limp and sated. You can feel his hot cum spilling inside you, filling you up. Your heart pounds in your chest, your body still trembling from the intense orgasm. As you catch your breath, you lean into John, pressing soft kisses along his jawline.

"I love you," you whisper against his skin, your voice soft and tender. You know that no matter what happens, you'll always have this - your love for each other. John gently pulled you closer to him, nuzzling his nose against your before planting a soft kiss on your lips. "I love you too, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice low and husky. His fingers traced small circles on your back as he held you close. Leaning into John's touch, you let out a content sigh. Feeling his fingers tracing small circles on your back, you relax further into his embrace. "We should probably clean up," you murmur, kissing his chin softly. You let out a little sigh as you feel his cock twitch inside you. "And go house hunting" you chuckled, you knew this would happen, not that you cared, you and John were addicted to each other.

Nodding slightly, John gave a soft hum of agreement. But there was no way he was moving from you yet. Not while he could still feel your warmth surrounding him, not when your thighs were spread apart like some kind of offering. His fingers kept tracing those lazy circles on your back as he watched you, drinking in every detail of your flushed face, every bit of your exposed skin. And then he caught himself looking at your stomach, where three tiny lives were growing. "Yeah, we should definitely get cleaned up," he agreed, though his tone didn't sound very convinced about it. Sat on the dressing table with John, you smiled as you looked up at him. There was something incredibly sexy about seeing him all sweaty and panting after just making love to you. You reached up and stroked his cheek, letting your fingers trace down his bearded jawline.

"You're such a mess," you said playfully, smirking at him. You knew that if you didn't get him to move soon, he would throw you onto the bed. John grunted softly as your fingers traced over his beard, sending shivers down his spine. He was indeed a mess, but he didn't care. He was happy, satisfied, and in love. And right now, he didn't want to move. He gave you a smirk in return, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. He leaned down and captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips to tangle with yours. "But I'm a mess because of you," he growled against your lips, pulling away only when he needed to breathe. His hands gripped your hips firmly, holding you in place. 

Caught off guard by John's sudden advance, you gasped into the kiss. His tongue slipped past your lips easily, causing you to moan into his mouth. Your arms snaked around his neck as you pulled yourself closer to him. Pulling away from the kiss, you stared up at John, your grey eyes darkening with desire. You licked your lips subconsciously, tasting him even after the kiss has ended. "You better be," you replied, smirking at him once again. You knew that he would never change, that he would always be the same old John who was crazy about you.

John grinned at your response, his eyes darkening with lust. He loved how you teased him, how you pushed him until he was on the edge of control. It was part of what made their relationship so damn perfect. His grip on your hips tightened slightly, almost possessively. He loved that you were his, completely and utterly his. "And I wouldn't have it any other way," he growled, his voice rough with desire. His hands slid down to cup your ass, squeezing it firmly through the fabric of your dress. "Fuck it," he muttered under his breath, his hands leaving your ass abruptly. Before you could protest or react, he picked you up effortlessly and gently tossed you onto the bed, following you down with a growl of pure need.

With a squeal, you found yourself falling backwards onto the bed. The impact caused you to bounce slightly, your breasts jiggling enticingly underneath your dress. Looking up, you saw John looming over you, his eyes filled with raw desire. "Johnathan Price" you laughed and he pinned you on the bed, "no, we're looking for a house today and that's final."

Hearing your words, John let out a frustrated groan. But he knew you were right. They did need to find a new house, one big enough for their growing family. However, that didn't stop him from wanting you, needing you. His body craved yours, desired you. And right now, he didn't give a damn about anything else except for you. "Fine, fine," he grumbled, rolling off you and lying next to you on the bed instead. He sighed deeply, running a hand through his messy hair. "But don't think this means you've won," he added, giving you a pointed look. His hand moved lower, reaching under your dress to cup your thigh, squeezing it lightly.

Rolling onto your side to face John, you placed a finger on his lips silencing him. You knew that he would keep arguing with you and you weren't going to let that happen. "Don't argue with me mister" you raised an eyebrow with a smirk. He grunted softly, feeling your finger press against his lips. But he couldn't help but chuckle, the sound rumbling deep within his chest. Despite his gruff exterior, he loved these moments - the ones where they bickered like an old married couple. It was proof that they belonged together, that they fit perfectly.

But despite everything, he couldn't resist pressing his lips against your finger, sucking it into his mouth. His tongue swiped across the pad of your finger before releasing it slowly. "Don't tell me what to do, sweetheart," he said with a smirk, even as he kept his hand under your dress. His thumb began rubbing slow, gentle circles on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You gently wrapped your hand around his throat, just below his jaw and leaned in so your breath was hot on his face, "you may be the Captain of the Task Force but I am your wife." You licked his lips and pulled away with a smirk, you gently grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away from your thigh.

Feeling your hand wrap around his throat, John allowed a low growl to escape his lips. You had no idea how much that turned him on, how much he loved the thought of you marking him, claiming him as yours. When you pulled away, he opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off when you removed his hand from under your dress. A frown formed on his face, but it quickly turned into a smirk when he saw the playful glint in your eyes. "Oh, is that so?" he asked, leaning in close to your ear. His voice was low, husky with desire. He nibbled on your earlobe gently before pulling back. "Well then, Mrs. Price," he murmured, trailing kisses down her neck towards her collarbone, "I suppose I should remind you who's the boss in our bedroom."

"Johnathan Price, stop it" 

Your breath hitched as he nipped at your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine. When his lips trailed down your neck, you bit your lip, trying not to moan out loud. Goddamn, why does he have to know exactly what buttons to push? He heard your sharp intake of breath, felt the shiver that ran down your spine. The sight of you biting your lip, trying to hold back those moans, only served to fuel his own desires. It was clear that you were enjoying this, even if you were trying to act all tough. Ignoring your protests, he continued his trail of kisses down your neck, stopping just above the swell of your breasts. His hand came up, fingers tracing the curve of your breast through the thin material of your dress.

"I can't seem to help myself, love," he murmured huskily. "I'm addicted to you."

You whimpered, feeling his lips on your neck and his fingers trace along your breast. Your nipples were hard already, poking through your bra and dress. God, you wanted him so badly right now. He was your addiction too, you couldn't stay away from him either. "John..." You whispered his name, your voice barely above a whisper. "If we don't go now..... We'll never find a house." Feeling your nipple harden beneath his touch, John couldn't resist teasing it further. His fingers circled around the stiff peak, pressing just enough to elicit a gasp or a moan from you. He loved hearing your sounds, loved knowing that he could make you feel good.

His other hand snaked its way between your thighs, his fingers finding your wetness through the fabric of your panties. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he felt how soaked you were. Damn, you were ready for him. "You're absolutely right," he agreed, even though there was a clear note of reluctance in his voice. "We should probably get moving." Despite saying that, he didn't move away. Instead, he pushed himself up on his arms, hovering over you. His blue eyes locked onto yours, full of lust and love.

As he hovered over you, your hands reached up, gripping his hips tightly. You needed something to hold onto because goddamn, he was making you lose focus. Every single time he touched you, you lost control. "Fuck, John." You muttered under your breath, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. Your nails dug slightly into his flesh as you tried to regain some sort of control over yourself.

But it was hopeless. As soon as he started moving again, you'd be putty in his hands. Or rather, you'd be melting underneath him. Feeling your nails dig into his skin, John let out a low groan. The sensation sent a jolt straight to his cock, which was already throbbing painfully against your thigh. "But fuck, sweetheart," he replied, his voice thick with desire. "You make it so damn hard to think straight." He moved away from you, standing up fully. But instead of heading for the door, he took a moment to strip off his shirt, revealing his well-muscled torso. Then, he turned around, giving you a perfect view of his ass encased in tight fatigues as he found a clean shirt to wear.

Watching him take off his shirt, you swallowed hard. God, he looked so fucking sexy. And the way he moved... it was like watching a predator move. Powerful, confident, and deadly. When he turned around, showing off his firm ass, you couldn't help but lick your lips. You wanted nothing more than to bite down on that perfect roundness. To leave marks on him that would show everyone who he belong too. But you knew better than to do that. Because once you start, you wouldn't stop until he was completely marked up. So instead, you settled for ogling him as he searched for another shirt. Feeling your eyes on him, John couldn't help but flex his muscles a little more. He loved the way you watched him, the hunger in your eyes. It made him feel powerful, desirable.

He found a clean shirt and slipped it on. The fabric clung to his muscles perfectly, highlighting them even more. Then, he turned around, giving you another perfect view of his body. His cock strained against the confines of his pants, clearly outlined by the fabric.

"Keep looking at me like that, sweetheart," he warned. "And I might just forget about finding us a house."

With that, he started walking towards the door. But he paused for a moment, turning around to give you one last look. His blue eyes were dark with desire, and they held a silent promise. You licked your lips again, your eyes following him as he walked to the door. The sight of his cock straining against his pants made your mouth water. You wanted to taste him, to feel him inside of you. When he turned around to look at you one last time, you almost melted on the spot. That silent promise echoed in your mind, and you knew that tonight, you'd be getting everything you wanted. So you stood up and went to the bathroom to quickly freshen up (And clean the mess between your thighs John made earlier) before meeting him at the front door.

The sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the countryside as you and John pulled up to the final house on the list. You had spent the entire afternoon going from one house to another, but none of them had felt like home. This one looked promising from the outside, but you couldn't shake the feeling that it was just another disappointment waiting to happen. You stepped out of the car and took a deep breath, trying to ignore the knot of anxiety in your stomach. John squeezed your hand reassuringly and you walked towards the front door. The estate agent greeted you with a warm smile and led you inside.

The house was spacious and well-lit, but it lacked the charm and character you were hoping for. The rooms were too formal and the layout didn't feel right for a family. You could imagine your children running through the halls, but it just didn't feel like home. As they walked through the empty rooms, John could see the disappointment in your eyes. He could understand why this place wasn't feeling right for you. It was too big, too cold, lacking the warmth only a home could provide. It was clear you weren't happy here, and that broke his heart.

When they finally exited the house, John could see the relief in your eyes. You were disappointed, but you also seemed hopeful. There was still hope that they would find a place they both liked. He squeezed your hand gently, offering you support.

"We'll find a place, sweetheart," he assured you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "It's just a matter of time."

With that, he opened the car door for her, letting her slide into the passenger seat. Once you were seated in the car, you looked over at John. His reassurances always managed to lift your spirits, no matter how gloomy things seemed. You smiled softly at him, your eyes filled with gratitude.

"Thank you, John," you said quietly, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "For everything."

Your fingers intertwined with his, and you held on tight. They may not have found a home yet, but you knew they would. Together, they would build a life, a home, a future. Feeling you squeeze his hand, John gave you a small smile. It was moments like these that reminded him of what truly mattered in life - not the houses or the money, but the people. You were worth more than any house or mansion ever could be.

"You're welcome, sweetheart," he replied, his voice soft but filled with love. "I'm just glad I can be there for you." He waited until you were buckled up before starting the engine. The drive back home was quiet, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was peaceful, actually. The silence between them was comfortable, soothing even. It was a rare moment of tranquillity in their chaotic lives.

As John pulled into the driveway, you glanced at your phone. A text from Gaz, your friend, popped up. 'How's house hunting going, lovebirds?'

You let out a sigh. 'Not great. Nothing feels like home.'

You typed back your reply, 'None of the homes we've seen feel right.'

Moments later, Gaz's response lit up your screen. 'I may have found a home. Here's the address.'

Confusion washed over you. "Gaz found a house?" You told John, handing him your phone.

Seeing the message from Gaz, John raised an eyebrow. The man never failed to surprise him. He took the phone and read the message, a smirk forming on his face. "Well, I'll be damned," he muttered under his breath. He handed the phone back to you. "Looks like Gaz has something up his sleeve." Even though he trusted Gaz, the fact that the man hadn't mentioned anything about a house earlier was a bit concerning. But then again, Gaz had a habit of keeping secrets. Sometimes it was because he was being secretive, other times it was simply because he forgot to mention things. Still, if Gaz thought it was worth checking out, then maybe there was something to it after all. After all, Gaz had a knack for finding hidden gems.

You arrived at the charming countryside abode, where Gaz greeted you with a warm smile. "My friend's selling this gem," he said. "You've got the first peek."

As you stepped inside, your heart skipped a beat. It was a picture of blissful perfection. Rolling hills stretched beyond the lush field, ideal for chickens and even a few cows. A thriving allotment overflowed with fresh produce. The backyard was a veritable playground, begging for a treehouse, a zip line and what ever else John decides to build. You couldn't help but imagine your future children scampering about, their laughter echoing through the serene countryside.

But the house itself took your breath away. From the cosy living room to the spacious bedrooms, every detail exuded comfort and charm. You couldn't believe your luck. It was everything you had ever dreamed of—a place to raise a family, to create a lifetime of memories. The moment he stepped foot inside, John felt an overwhelming sense of calm wash over him. This place...it just felt right. As if it was meant to be their home. He noticed the way your eyes lit up as you explored each room. Your excitement was contagious, making him grin widely. It was hard to deny that this was indeed a perfect spot for raising kids.

"Damn, Gaz..." he muttered appreciatively, giving him a firm slap on the back. "This is fucking perfect." And just like that, he knew this was it. This was their home. No matter how many places they'd seen today, nothing compared to this quaint little cottage nestled in the middle of nowhere. Your eyes shone with unshed tears of joy as you turned around to look at John. Seeing his approval made your heart swell with happiness. "It's perfect, isn't it?" You asked, your voice filled with awe and wonder. "Like it was waiting for us."

You ran over to John and threw yourself into his arms, hugging him tightly. His strong arms wrapped around you protectively, holding you close against his chest. You could hear the steady thumping of his heartbeat underneath your ear, and it soothed you like nothing else. "I love it, John." Your voice was barely above a whisper, but the emotion behind those words was palpable. Holding you close, John felt a surge of emotions welling up within him. This was it. This was their new beginning, their forever. And damn, did it make him proud.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, pressing a kiss onto the top of your head. "It's absolutely perfect." His hands roamed over your body, squeezing gently before letting you go. He needed both hands free to properly appreciate the beauty of the house. "And I love it too, sweetheart," he assured you, his voice filled with warmth and affection. You turned to Gaz and brought him for a big hug, "Thank you so much Gaz. "Watching you thank Gaz, John couldn't help but feel a pang of admiration for the man. He might act like a dick sometimes, but deep down, Gaz was one of the best friends anyone could ask for.

"That's my boy," he grumbled, clapping Gaz on the shoulder before turning back to you. "Don't know why you're thanking him though. We're the ones who are getting the house." Despite his teasing tone, there was genuine gratitude in his eyes. Gaz had done good. Real good. "But yeah, thanks mate," he added, slinging an arm around your waist as he led you towards the front door. "For finding this place and all."

With that, he opened the door and ushered you outside, ready to start planning their new life together.

ghost knows he’s too rough and impatient with sex. knows he won’t know how to please you properly. knows he can’t possibly do things right with you, knowing you’ve never done this before. but god, he wants to. he wants to treat you how you deserve. never thought he’d be so desperate to fuck someone good and slow like he does with you.

so he goes to price. the one man who will know all the right ways to please a lady properly. asks him to show him how to take care of you. tells him he doesn't know how to care for someone else's needs, at least with someone inexperienced like you. tells him he needs to be instructed. to see just how he should work you.

you’re nervous at first, thinking it’s an absolutely insane idea, but you can’t hide the wetness along your panties as you sit on ghost’s lap, back pressed against his chest, legs spread, his knuckle dragging down your warmth. price sits back in his chair, telling ghost exactly how to move his fingers, paying close attention to your body's minuscule movements, the way your brows furrow when ghost moves a certain way, or your eyelashes fluttering.

and this was supposed to be a strictly hands-off approach… but god, watching ghost fumble, unable to maintain the slow speed you need, keeping you from reaching your orgasm, has price on edge. he leans forward, rolling his chair with him, and tells ghost to stop. tells him to watch and to pay close attention. price tears your panties off and your eyes go wide at the contact. you swallow, expecting ghost to be furious, but his hands only settle around you and he takes notes as he watches his captain work.

price runs his thumb up your slit, circling your nub, and tells ghost to hold your thighs apart when you unconsciously try to clench them. then his finger is sinking into you and your head falls back against ghost's chest, eyes shut. you moan and you feel ghost harden beneath you. “how’s that feel, sweetheart?” price asks you. you babble out incoherently, price adding a second finger, and chuckling darkly at your response.

it becomes too much, his fingers thrusting in and out of you, his other hand rubbing your clit, ghost's fingers digging into the softness of your thighs as he forces them apart. “ohmygod,” you slur, “m’gonna—“ price smirks, his eyes darkening as he watches you orgasm, your body clenching around his fingers shoved deep in your heat. "talk her through it," price tells ghost. so ghost does. you're shaking still and ghost rubs his hands over your exposed skin. "that's it, baby. you're doin' s'good," he praises.

"whata fuckin' sight," price mumbles to himself, his fingers leaving you empty. you steady your breathing, coming down from your high, completely limp in ghost's arms. price can see the way ghost's eyes have gone dark, his pupils swallowing his irises whole. knows ghost doesn't know how to be soft. sees the feral need to ram himself into you overtaking his features. "gonna take it slow with her, yeah?" price asks.

ghost breathes rapidly out, his hips begging to buck up against you. he knows he wouldn't be able to control himself if you let him fuck you. so he answers honestly. "not sure I'd be able to."

price tsks, sitting back in thought, his eyes roving over your spent body. you suddenly feel shy, wanting to close your legs, but ghost's arms tighten on you. "need me t'break her in?" price finally asks after several long beats of silence.

ghost grinds up against you, his hand sliding into your hair and pulling your head to the side so he can kiss your neck. your eyes flutter at his attempts to be so delicate with you. "want the captain here to be your first time, love?" ghost asks against your skin. you stutter when you answer. "don't you want to be?" "course I do. but I won't go easy on ya. I'd hate to ruin you, sweet girl. price will take it nice n' slow. just like you need." and after, you'll be ready to take ghost. ready to adjust to his size.

you swallow hard, ghost's hands escaping and clawing at your clothed chest. you nod. "o-okay."

price stands from his chair and begins to undo his belt. "come sit on my desk, sweetheart."

cod masterlist

cw: kidnapping, captivity, manipulation

or

Price captures his future wife

-

You had lost count of the days since you were taken. They had bled together, one agonizing minute at a time as the drip of leaking pipes kept you company.

The basement sapped every bit of life from your frigid body; the cuffs that kept you chained to the wall had long ago rubbed raw into your skin.

They bled during your fits of panic the first few times he came down to feed you. Always insisting on taking off your muzzle himself and dropping the bits of barely cooked meat right into your mouth.

He had a beard and thick chops that twisted when he smiled. You didn’t know why he always smiled at you. Even when you cried and sobbed as he forced water through your lips, caressing your throat with firm hands, he smiled down at you.

The day he let you out you had pissed yourself from terror, screaming and bleating like a lamb in distress. He dragged you up the concrete stairs practically by the scruff of your neck. Sunlight had blinded you into silence as a picturesque home was revealed.

John took to chaining you in his room after that day. He touched you little and spoke even less, but he stared. Always. Every little move you made was watched by wary eyes. Your occasional bouts of tears guaranteed his attention so you learned to only do it while he slept.

You concluded it was short of a month when he took the muzzle off permanently and let you trail around the house with him. When he left he locked you in his room and made you promise to be good. You took the time to try and find ways to escape but were never successful.

Some nights John cried in his sleep. Those mornings were the worst. He would wash you himself in the bath, comb and braid your hair, brush your teeth even. He would feed you fruits and cheese instead of the typical slabs of meat. You wondered who he used to take care of.

Things changed when you bled for the first time in his care. He dragged you into his bed that night, curling you into his arms. That night he whispered three names in his sleep, just barely indiscernible.

You began to speak to him after that, allowing him to invite you to cook dinner with him. He was in the military at one point he had revealed, but when you pushed for more he had locked you back in his room until the food was ready.

The first time he kissed you, you had thrown up and then choked on it, collapsing on the ground. Tears came unbidden, every muscle in your body screaming as you had run away to the relative safety of his room. He coaxed you back out hours later with food and promises of fresh air.

John let you seek him when you missed your family. He always took his time explaining how he saved you from mediocrity, how you were safe and loved now. How he’d give you everything you need, love you better than any man ever could. It’s the promise of him fucking you every night has you listening a little harder, trying to discern fear from anticipation.

I am once again asking for your help in finding a COD fic (please 😭🥺)

Another post to once again request help finding a call of duty fic it's a mafia au and it starts with you having a shitty boss who you're like a secretary for and he has "business" with the 141 he sends you out to get his dog groomed but Price's car is the same kind as your boss' and so you just hop in and start driving which makes you accidentally kidnap Price. It's very cutesy and I would like to know if it's updated since I last read it but I can't find it 😭😭😭

happy (very) late 4th of July from teddy and I to you! 🤍

masterlist

suddenly had the urge to to write a little smthhhh while listening to my 2016 music 😭.

masterlist

our fluffydutch/german!farmer taking his precious earthyblack!reader along to the farmers market with him! and reader getting in a bittttt of trouble 🫢 (nsfw next part 🤭)

come on!!

Oh my ... there goes Mr teddy bear.. having to search for you again as you've wandered off to search for the animal section here. at this point teddy is really considering getting us one of those little backpacks with the leash on it (😭).

oh poor man can't even catch a break as he shopped. oh, but as he stress bought, you popped right back up next to him with something.. exotic?!

"bubba look! i bought us a ferret!" you giggled happily, showing off the long furry animal

as you thought your husband would be happy with what you had spent your money on, he couldn't even crack you a smile. sighing as he rubbed his forehead he tried to have remorse for what he now considered his bit-bimboed wife.

"Hun.." he sighed "we don't .. need anymore animals.. " he continued, sighing as he let you down

"but.. bitte?" you politely begged, tugging at he sleeve.

he knew you absolutely didn't need any more animals on your already packed farm but oh.. your eyes.. your small begs.. how could your man just say no to you!?

"you really stress me, schatz" he sighs once more, his words being your indication for a yes.

you giggle happily and peck his cheek, hugging his side as he continued shopping. pointing out a few things he missed on the list.

"i don't need your fuckin' help, puppe" he chuckles, placing the missing items in his basket. you giggle once more, placing another warm kiss on his face.

ah .. there you go again.. not too far this time though! you saw a snack stand not too far away and slipped right from his side.

"hm.." you examined the vast variety of self serve snacks and candies in front of you.

"hi sweetheart! well aren't you a cute one? here, this one is on me, get what ever you'd like, doll!" a tall man approaches from behind the stand, handing you a medium sized plastic bag. you smile sweetly at his kind compliments then brightly at his kind gesture of paying for whatever you grabbed.

as you began scooping and using the little tonsil to pick your candies the (guessing) owner began small talk. and oh, you just wanting to be oh so friendly, you complied and replied.

"so.. see some stuff you like?" he chuckles, sucking on a toothpick he had sticking out of his mouth

"mhm!" you giggle, adding more things

"gon' on and fill it up sweetheart" he encouraged, waving his hand out to let you know it was okay

you nod, looking around at the other options, picking up a few pieces of cotton candy and some gummy eggs.

"do you have any popcorn or chips? I thought I saw some when i came over here" you give a warm smile, as you picked and put some sour belts into your bag.

"oh yeah, yeah hold on.." he turns around and bends over a bit to pull out a popcorn machine. "I'll make some popcorn for you doll.. only for one thing.." he said, plugging in the machine.

"hm? I'll do it!" you giggled, stopping to look up.

"I just want oneeee.. little kiss right here" he pat the middle of his cheek with the bed of his index finger.

"oh umm.. hold on, I'll go see if my husband will let me!" i place the bag down on his stand, turning around quickly to go grab Teddy.

"wait, you have a husband?" he asks rather quickly

"yes! just please, stay right there!" you happily walk over to teddy

"bubba! can I give that man over there a kiss for some popcorn" you point to the man. "he said he'd give me free candy too!" you giggle happily, looking up at him as you hugged him

"a.. kiss.. for popcorn and.. candy" teddy sighed "the woman you are princess.." he huffs, paying for the groceries before walking you two over to the man's pop up shop.

Dictionary;

bitte(german): please

schatz(german): darling

puppe(german): doll

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

hiiii!! i would rlly RLLY love it if you guys would recommend and request stuff, I've had writers block for a bit after I posted the first fic so I'm kinda bummed out and idk what this is 😭😭😭. yes there will be a next part after this and smut is included so mdni and yep... please send in requests ..🧸

Don't forget to leave your requests because honestly I'm starting to loose ideas and motivation to write.

Thank you.

Author note : So I had this crazy idea. What if the reader was a captain of a team and after a rough mission that required both 1-4-1 and Las Vargas you all decided to drink in the base, suddenly one of your team challenged you in a video game with a reward if you win.

Warning: mention of sex, the reader is a captain. Bunny outfit, mention of stripper. The reader hide her face under a mask. My mistake and writing. Not proofreading.

What do you think?

Part 2????

It was past midnight and your were finally able to return to the base after a long and tiring mission and no casualties, yet no one seemed to want to sleep afraid of nightmares that may come because of all the traumatic events that happened.

You all decided to drink but you didn't dare to touch the liquor afraid of all the secret you may spill so you just sir there as everyone drank there heart out.

The young ones of the teams were laughing exchanging jokes, while the older just watched and sometimes talked about whatever the conversation brought.

You on the other like just sat there when suddenly one of your male member of your team rushed to you demanding a match in video games.

"and If I win you have to wear this" he passed you a box with a bunny outfit.

"That stripper shit" One of the female members of your team remarked making the other giggle.

You weren't a strict captain, you didn't even act like a captain outside of mission. Maybe that's why you were so close with your team, that didn't mean you were nice in training.

Everyone waited as they watched you pull the dress out, and like she said it was stripper shit. The dress didn't have anything to cover your body, it was like swimsuit with bonny tail and ears but you couldn't lie it was cute, unfortunately it wouldn't feat you.

It was made for people with small breasts and yours were anything but small, yet you smirked under your mask, a mischievous idea coming to you.

"okay...but" You turn to the male team member before you continue "if I won.. you are to wear it"

You team member didn't think twice before agreeing. You felt a little bad for him..but all well he should have made research before challenging you.

Everyone in your team knew how of a sex addict you were. You could go multiple round and yet you won't feel satisfied, maybe that's why you never had a boyfriend, and it seem that he didn't know or just didn't want to believe the rumours, so a little demonstrate was needed.

"Should I leave the game choice to you?" You titled your head and he smirked. He had the audacity to smirk... don't worry soon you will wiped it out of his face.

"I will" he proudly said, puffing his chest, leaving without even a goodbye.

Didn't he really think he was a man, soon he will be screaming like Moaning Myrtle from Harry Potter. You thought.

"Okay.. Goodnight everyone" you waved at your partners before turning to your team members.

"We were going to a new mission tomorrow but since one you will too tired" You pointed at the male leaving the room "you can have a day off tomorrow" You chuckled as everyone cheered.

It wasn't weird for you to have mission after mission. You were damned good, making the teams with most mission, it was tired luckily you were all more than capable of handling it.

You followed the male to his room before going to your own. You were no way on hell fucking him in his room, besides yours had camera ready to take pictures of him wearing that bunny dress.

Back at with 1-4-1 and Las Vargas, the air was a little awkward, how can it not be when they just watched someone challenging their captain not only that but they demand for their captain to wear something like that if they won, which was straight disrespectful.

Your team on the contrary, were cheering up, happy to have one day off. They soon after three shots begun to bet.

"I bet 50, they are going to go all night" one of them bet, and some followed.

"I bet he won't be able to walk tomorrow" This earned a laugh from all of them before they whispered "poor him"

"I warned him" you right hand said, catching the attention of everyone.

"So you knew" One spoke and your right hand nodded "I asked him not to do it but he disobedience orders" Your right hand took a shot before slamming the cup on the table.

"You are jealous" One said snuggly "Of course I'm jealous, don't tell me you 'rn't... That's captain we are talking about... She's hot" everyone nodded she was indeed hot with those immense breasts, and that hot body full of scares... everyone almost moaned at the thought.

Now even the others(1-4-1 and Las Vargas) were wondering how your hand would feel like..fuck that can make anyone hard.

"She's awesome...Like have you seen her on field..How she took those guys down, like they were nothing...If she stepped on me I will thank her" He nodded to himself, he was drunk out of his mind but they say drunken words are sobber thoughts.

"Mommy" It was supposed to be a whispered under the breath than know should have heard yet they all seem to have, and everyone noticed by how their body tensed, some caught to hide their own embarrassment.

"OKAY! I think we all agreed that it's time to head to bed" everyone sigh in relief as Price spoke averting their attention from their little problem down there.

Everyone left, and once the silence dominated their space, unholy thought start to surface. Each of them imagining what could be happening between you and your male team member, some of them were jealous of him been touched by you.

That night no one slept. Not even you except your drunken team members who could handle some liquor in their system.

MDNI 18+

Johnny getting a tongue ring solely for the purpose of your heightened pleasure when he eats you out. He's obsessed with being between your thighs, craves it like a starved man, and will do anything and everything to make you beg for his mouth.

Loves the way your hips buck against his face when he glides the metal ball rhythmically over your clit. Humming into your folds as your thighs clench around his head. Meeting your heady gaze with his darkened blue stare, plunging his tongue into your wet cunt, allowing the ball to caress the top of your slick flesh.

And just when you can't take any more of his languid torture, you hear a muffled buzzing within the depths of your pussy. His tongue fiercely pressed up to the flesh of your mound, placing the vibrating ball precisely over your clit, drawing a choked groan of his name from your throat as you come against his chin. Thighs trembling around his head as he laps victoriously at your pleasured end.

"So good fer me, lass." He purrs, voice low and husky, accentuated by the constant thrumb of the ball in his mouth.

"Johnny-.." You manage with a shaky breath, hips stuttering as he drags the humming ball over your sensitive bud just to see you come apart again.

"So fuckin' sensitive. Can ya gimme another one, bonnie?"

Without giving you a moment to think, he sinks his tongue into your core once more. Keeping his face pressed firmly into your folds as he lets the constant rhythmic vibration of the ball guide you to another orgasm. Arching your back as he flicks the tip of his tongue into the clenching walls of your cunt. His growls muffled into your cavern, gripping tightly into your thighs, keeping you immobile as he pushed you into the blissful realm of overstimulation.

Only pulling back when he's satisfied with your umpteenth orgasm. Tasting his triumph in the back of his throat as he swallows down the last remainder of your pleasured undoing.

Drabbles Masterlist

Now the weather captain john price

anyway guys next up on the daily news is captain john price 🤠

The tiger and Tame Masterlist

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

The Tiger and The Tamer P3

Sorry for not posting much everyone, my brain got overwhelmed with some personal shit but here it is for part 3. Hope you all will like it. oh, a side note on the last part: I said Horangi is 163, but I found out he was 188, so I will change that. TW: Violence, blood, a bit of possessive Horangi Word count: 1,359 Part 1 <- Part 2 <- Masterlist <-

The dragon hybrid let out a snarl at Horangi, Horangi didn’t seem faced by the growl but retaliated with a low and deep growl. He was the first to launch at the dragon hybrid, landing a flurry of punches on the other hybrid's scale-covered arm. The dragon hybrid let out a loud pant before hitting twice as hard at Horangi with his fire breath. Opening his mouth to launch a giant fireball at Horangi.

Horangi got pushed back as the smoke from the fire slowly disappeared to reveal Horangi unharmed by the fire. I watch these 2 punches, drop kicks and even try to bite the other. Writing down what skills he has improved and which needs more training, I can't help but admire how handsome he looks as he fights, sweat slowly dripping down his hair and skin. The doctor beside me seemed unimpressed by the combat happening in front of us behind the tempered glass.

Then, he stood still for a moment. I can tell that they were talking before but something felt off, I can see from his expression. I can’t really see his expression but from his body language I could guess that he is tense, my guess was right when I heard him roar. My eyes tried to help my brain make sense of what was going on as Horangi turned into his tiger form, Golden eyes gleaming with anger. Whatever the dragon hybrid said royally pissed Horangi.

"Didn't know he could do that, but I admit he looks less intimidating than before." I gave the doctor a confused side glance as his eyes never left the scene in front of us. My attention was quickly grabbed by the sound of pure pain. My eyes widened as I saw Horangi trying to kill the subject by stabbing his horn right at the chest. 

The doctor quickly clicked on the mic and ordered Horangi, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING, DON'T KILL HIM YOU IDIOT." Horangi turned his head, letting a roar at the doctor he tried to continue but only to be shocked by his collar. Falling limp onto his side as the dragon hybrid crawled away from Horangi holding his stab wound. I called guards to quickly escort Horangi back to his cell and bring the other hybrid to the medical wing. 

As Horangi was carried back in a stretcher to his cell, my eyes filled with worry as my brain tried to figure out why he randomly tried to kill the dragon. Usually, he just knocks them out, he sees other subjects as his friends so this is an odd occurrence. "What the FUCK, WHY DID HORANGI TRY TO KILL SUBJECT 78?!" 

"Sir calm down, I don't know either, usually he only knocks them out." 

"You told me he would be a good sparring partner for newer subjects." My nose scrunched up and eyebrows knit in annoyance, "Look I will try to find a reasoning from Horangi and I will tell you later." The doctor gave me a scoff before speeding walking towards the medical wing.

I finally reached Horangi's cell, opening to reveal him already awake and now randomly in his human form, probably changed into it before I arrived. His eyes glinted with drowsiness as he turned into his tiger form. I clicked on the mic to ask him the question, "Horangi what happened, why did you try to kill him?" He didn't answer for a while as the tension in the air rose like steam. 

"I would rather not tell." he growled, I gave him a nod and let go of the mic button. I quickly scurried towards the file Dr Valentin gave me, I opened it with worry and fear coursing through my blood. I checked the list of warning signs. 

"Aggression towards others, more open or closed than usual, stalking behaviour.." I started to cross out the ones that Horangi had shown but right now the only one he has shown is aggression. I let out a sigh, I have to keep an eye out for any more. "Heyy Dr Y/N wanna go to the cafeteria to take a break with me??" I nearly jumped up but quickly realised it was just Dr Choon-Hee again. "Yeah sure I gotta do something first." She gave a thumbs up as the metal door closed. I grabbed a walkie talkie that was on its stand in the shelf and called for my assistant to come and watch Horangi.

I turned to Horangi after setting the walkie talkie down, "Okay, Dr glacial will take over and she will guide you to the gym in 10 mins have a good break.." with that I left the observation room and on the way to the cafeteria.

Horangi's pov

During the fight

I gave the dragon hybrid a strong kick on the leg which caused him to fall, I can tell by the way he fights he just came here. God I wish I could fight konig or Alejandro. They both give me a better fight than this. I continued punching him and blocking his attacks, turning my head to see Y/N watching me with almost pure admiration, I suppressed a smirk as I sparred.

The dragon also looked at Y/N and turned to me. "What a pity, putting a dragon against a mere tiger." He spat with a shit eating grin, I stood up straight. Staring at him, “What the fuck did you just say?” . He let out a snicker, “What can’t hear me? No wonder you are just a pathetic hybrid.” My eye twitched in anger as he said that, did he just call me a pathetic fuck. Oh OH CALL ME WEAK THEN I WILL SHOW YOU, I let out a roar before transforming into my tiger form. 

I pounced at his head first so my horn could stab him right at the chest, I could feel the warm blood of the dragon hybrid streaming down from the top of my head and down to my chin. I was about to bite or scratch him with my claws but I got snapped out of my bloodlust by the other doctor’s scream. I glared at the doctor with no mercy, but as I was about to continue my work then I felt like my muscles were forced to stop working by the electricity from the shock collar. I collapsed with a loud thud and everything turned black but not before I gave one last glare at the dragon hybrid.

After the fight

I woke up with a hiss as i tried to lift up my arm to wipe my eye, my muscles hurt like fuck. Looking around for a while, I realised that I am now in my human form. I naturally jolted a bit as I heard the metal door opening, I looked over at Dr Y/N with tired eyes as I turned into my tiger form to conserve energy.

 “Horangi what happened, why did you try to kill him?” “I'd rather not tell.” it was total bullshit but it’s better than admitting the real reason. As she turned around to leave to do something, my eyes couldn't stop itself from wandering up and down her stature but then my eyes finally found a target. I stared at her for a good 20 seconds, I felt something in me like I needed her to be here. In this cell with me where I can be close to her but I again yell at myself, why am I starting to get these feelings from. Look I admit she is pretty hot but why do I feel like I have Be with her something isn’t right. I felt the tiger me yearn to taste her but I kept pushing it away. I know it’s not normal lust but it's something more Primal..

I watched her leave with Dr. Choon-hee, and I felt jealousy striking my mind. I stared at Dr. Choon-hee as if I wanted to rip her into shreds, I felt some primal instinct to just Mark Dr y/n. Is it me or my tiger thinking now? 

some random ideas about cod mafia au but idk who should i write first

Go rampant on the votes

oneshot ideas

The tiger and The tamer PT.2

Thank you so much for reading the first part, here is your gift for the support <3

WARNING: mentions of n33dl3s but it isn't too descriptive

Word count: 1072 words

Part 1 <- Part 3 <- Masterlist <-

As the guards put a shock collar on Horangi and slowly led him out, we both locked eyes. How golden eyes bearing into my soul like in the morning but our small eye contact was broken when one of the guards pushed him to go. Something about his eyes made my heart beat a bit faster but I can’t tell why, I brushed off the feeling remembering I have more important matters on my hand. 

Horangi hissed when he stepped onto the white blinding hallway, “Can’t they just dim the lights a bit, it's so bright here. Wish I still had my glasses.” “Horangi, you broke them when you trained 2 days ago.” He gave me a small side glance with those beautiful eyes as we both continued walking down the white hallway. He started some small talks about life outside the lab and stuff like that, Horangi turned to me before asking me, “When do I get out?”. I turned to him with a puzzled look, “You know, like finally getting out of this place and interacting with the outside world again.” “Sorry but for that one I can’t answer, only the higher up decides when you get out..” His ears fell down but he continued looking forward. I felt bad that I can't fulfil his wishes but if I dare to break a rule in this lab, my life will be on the line.

We finally arrived at our destination, the medic wing. Horangi’s tail seemed to sway a bit more than usual when he saw the red cross symbol on the door. “Really another medical test? Didn’t I already do one just yesterday?”Horangi rolled his eyes as he was ushered into the medical bay with me going in after him.  

“Ahh, welcome back, Horangi and Dr Y/N.” Dr Valentin greeted us both with his same cocky tone. 

“Well hello doctor, We are here for the physical exam for Horangi.”

“Wunderbar, come this way.”, he led Horangi on to those hospital beds you see when you are in for a check up. The sound of the paper lining crunching as he sat down felt uncomfortable. I always hated that sound, Dr Valentin turned towards me. He warned me with a stern tone, “I would recommend you leave the room. We are gonna do some blood tests.” I gave him a small nod as the peach coloured curtains got closed by his nurse who I didn’t notice. I always felt sick looking at needles, I sat down on a chair beside the curtains. 

After 5 minutes, the curtains opened again to reveal Horangi’s tight sleeve rolled up above his wrist. I could see a small patch of red on his wrist where I assume the needle was in. The nurse puts the test tube full of blood into a small box before carrying it out the door to the lab. “Now Onto the Physical test, Horangi please stand on the weight.”. 

It took only around 4 minutes for Horangi to finish his physical exam from weighing him to checking his blood pressure. But as Horangi was escorted by a guard to the sparring testing chamber, Dr Valentin asked me to stay back for a while. “Dr Y/N, here a file from higher up.” He laid down a file with a big red classified stamp on it, looking at Dr Valentin with concern and confusion. I opened it, The first thing that caught my eyes was the title ACCIDENT #12, SUBJECT…, “W-what is this?” “There was an Incident with a random subject, where the Subject had slowly become aggressive and territorial with their doctors in charge. It wasn’t until the subject attacked a guard for trying to have a small conversation with their Doctor…” 

My brows knit together as I heard Valentin's statement, so I pressed him for more info. “Do you know the cause of this sudden aggression?” “The subject was a lion hybrid unlike Horangi who is a Haetae hybrid. We found out that the subject can experience mating seasons..” My brain stopped functioning for a minute as it tried to process what Valentin just told me. “WAIT THEY CAN GO THROUGH THAT?!” “Calm down, the reason why the higher ups made me tell you this is because, we are worried that most animals or animal-like hybrids will go through this heat. For example Horangi.”

I stared deep into his soul with wide eyes, I knew Horangi is a Haetae but the tiger variant but I never knew he could go through heat. “So what are they gonna do? And how are we gonna know if Horangi can even go through heat?”, he only shrugged. That did not do jack shit, “We only can observe from afar, Y/N. In the file there is a list of things that you should watch out for. If you spot more than 3 things then you should instantly report it to me or higher up.” I flipped the page to see the list of behaviour to keep an eye out, letting out a defeated sigh I gave Dr Valentin a small nod but as I reached the door ready to go to the sparring testing chamber. I turned around to ask, “Is this issued to all the doctors or only doctors in-charge of Animal or Animal-like hybrids?” “All doctors..”. With that I gave him a goodbye and closed the door behind me.

Horangi’s POV

As I stood in the testing chamber waiting for Dr Y/N, my mind won’t shut up about her. Something about her just keeps on distracting me, is it her eyes?, her laugh or body? “UGHHH WHY CAN;T SHE STAY OUT MY MIND!” I screamed at myself mentally as I let out a strong punch onto the concrete wall beside me leaving a small crack in it’s wake.

My ears stood up as I heard the door to the glass panel above this testing chamber open, Dr Y/N and another doctor stepped in the viewing station. "Okay Horangi, you will be fighting against a dragon hybrid. Please get ready." As the metal door in front of me opened to reveal a random dragon hybrid with red wings and a red slender tail. I cracked my knuckles and bend my head to the left, I gave my challenger a small grin before the lights when dim enough to not harm my eyes.

"Let's do this."

The tiger and The tamer part 1

Welcome to my second fanfic, This will be a Horangi x scientist reader. I got the inspo from @bluegiragi ‘s cod monster au, so show some love to them <3

Part 2 here Masterlist

Word count: 1035

The sound of heels clicking through the hallways drowned out the noises of other doctor’s idle chat. It was only 8 am in the morning, the white walls searing my tired eyes. I let out a small yawn as I walked past the same old white

hallways and steel doors with names of the subjects. This is my everyday life working as a doctor in a lab that messes around with genetics, I can't remember the last time I have seen anything other than white.

“Hey Y/n, How many hours have you slept? Looks like you haven’t slept in ages.” I turn my head towards my colleague, he leans onto the wall with a clipboard on hand. I scowled at him before walking away from that scene, can’t have a day without people telling me i look so sleep deprived.

I finally reached my destination, a steel door with the label horangi on it. I am the head scientist that monitors the subject and runs tests for them to see if they are fit for the battlefield. I scanned my key card and as I walked in, there he was staring at my soul with his yellow golden eyes from the bush. His code name is horangi but I can't really tell his name due to it being hidden from me. He is from what I can remember a tiger hybrid, his nationality is korean but how he got into the kortac is a mystery to me and his other doctors.

"Good morning Mr Horangi, hope you had a good rest." I let my finger off from the button that turns on the microphone and I watched as he stepped out of the bushes to reveal himself. Most of my colleagues are either simping for him hard because of his looks or disgusted by his facial scar. Half of his face was burnt from only leaving the skin around the eye. What makes people disgusted is being able to see the tissue beneath his skin and his teeth. He stood to his full height of 188 cm, tiger tail swayed a little as he stepped out, ears up as if he was trying to eavesdrop.

“Well Good morning to you too, Dr Y/N.” His voice was rough yet a bit deep like usual. He stood in front of the glass plane that separated us both. I could see the fake log they put in his cell was covered in scratches, “Horangi, have you been feeling okay?”, he seemed caught off guard from my question. “Yes, why are you asking?”He followed my eyes to which he quickly realised about the beaten up fake log. “Hey it's not my fault that I was hungry last night, your colleagues didn’t even bring me food when I asked for it.” He admitted to me, but this just pissed me off slightly. How ignorant can my co worker be, this is what I get when I am not allowed to choose the night shift doctor.

I let out a sigh before putting my finger on the microphone button, “I will have a chat with her about this later, Now your breakfast will come in soon. On your schedule for today, You will have 2 tests after breakfast; break time at 10:45; Training at 10:55; then the rest of the day you can either stay in your cell or go to the break area.” Horangi seemed a bit displeased with the schedule but hey I can’t change it for him, it was already made by the higher ups. Horangi muttered a silent okay before walking towards the small pool he has in his cell. I turned around to start doing some paperworks and preparing for the tests he shall do for the next 2 hours.

As I did my work, I could feel a pair of eyes staring at me the whole time as I did my work. Time to time I did turn my head towards the glass to only see Horangi still swimming around in his pool, how odd. But my small little trance was cut off by the sound of the metal door beside the glass panel being opened, letting out a sigh. I walked up to the microphone, “Okay horangi your breakfast is here. Don’t take too long.” He didn’t answer, instead he turned into his tiger form as the poor rookie seemed frozen in fear by his yellow golden eyes, orange golden fur with pitch black stripes all over his body. The rookie put his food down before running out as fast as light, closing the door behind them.

Horangi didn’t seem to mind and just laid down to eat as he ripped the meat into small bits using his sharp teeth. “So what test will he do today?” “WHAT THE FUCK?!” I fell backwards from my chair as Dr Choon-Hee appeared behind me like a ghost. “Hey language young lady.” She scolded me, I looked at the short doctor. I still get surprised from time to time at her height, only standing at 164 cm. I wonder how on earth she has not yet stepped on. “Oh, he has a medical test and a combat test after this.” I let out a small yawn as I stood up with a clipboard in hand and a radio on the other. Dr Choon-Hee gave me a worried look as she saw me yawn, “How long have you slept last night, Dr Y/N?” “Around 3 hours only..” “3 HOURS?!” She was of course surprised by my answer but to me it was normal to only sleep for 3 hours. We both chat as I slowly radioed for the test chambers to be ready and have some guards ready at the door to get Horangi.

Horangi’s pov

I watched Dr Y/N as she chatted with Dr Choon-Hee, I can’t help but stare at Dr Y/N’s body. She seemed like she was sculpted by God himself to be the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, she looked so de-WAIT WHAT AM I TALKING ABOUT?! I shook my head in frustration out of my thoughts on her, she is just a doctor.

Should I write a eldritch monster Ghost x royalty reader?

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Call of Duty (Video Games) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Simon "Ghost" Riley/Reader, John "Soap" MacTavish/Reader, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick/Reader, John Price (Call of Duty)/Reader Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, John Price (Call of Duty), Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Reader, Kate Laswell Additional Tags: Task Force 141, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Humor, Polyamorous Task Force 141 (Call of Duty), John Price Acting as Task Force 141's Parental Figure (Call of Duty), Task Force 141 as Family (Call of Duty), Eventual Romance, Human/Monster Romance, Monster Hunters

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Call of Duty (Video Games) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Simon "Ghost" Riley/Reader, John "Soap" MacTavish/Reader, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick/Reader, John Price (Call of Duty)/Reader Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, John Price (Call of Duty), Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Reader Additional Tags: Task Force 141, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Humor, Polyamorous Task Force 141 (Call of Duty), John Price Acting as Task Force 141's Parental Figure (Call of Duty), Task Force 141 as Family (Call of Duty), Eventual Romance

Sexual Harassment Training

Captain Price has a permanent scowl on his face today, it seems. You see him stomping around like a toddler on a rampage at lunch.

"What's got the Captain all bollocksed up? Did I say that, right?" Soap grins, then grimaces as he thinks about it. Standing together, you dump your trays before Soap leads you to the team meeting.

"Ya, doll, that's how you say it. He's like this every year. Mandatory sexual harassment training for everyone this afternoon." You ponder it for a minute.

"Why? Like, it's just something to sit through, right? It isn't like anyone is harassing our team."

He chuckles quietly and answers, "they aren't worried about the likes of me getting harassed, but that we will harass you, Princess." You elbow him and sit next to Ghost, who has saved you as seat per usual.

"Hey Luv, ready to be bored and insulted for a few hours?"

"Are these really that bad, Bruv?"

"They are, Crumpet. They really are."

"Hey! You need to address your coworkers with respect! Nicknames have no place in this organization, Mr..."

"Riley, Lieutenant Riley." Ghost stiffens up in his seat, restrained irritation pouring off of him. The woman from human resources turns toward you.

"Ma'am I have the form here to file a complaint when you feel up to it. No rush."

"Uhh... a complaint?" You stare at her in complete confusion as she brandishes a form at your face.

"Yes, no one should be treated with such disrespect. Talking down to coworkers is frowned upon." Her voice is condescendingly sweet, grating on your last nerve already. You stare at her for a moment before nodding, and Ghost tries to catch your eye, looking shocked.

"Pet... I mean, Sergeant. Do my nicknames make you feel uncomfortable? I will stop if they do. You never said anything, or I wouldn't have..."

"Hmm...? Oh no, but I will be filing a complaint." Turning toward the smirking woman, you ask, "what was your name again? Brenda McMasters? Perfect." You quickly fill out the paperwork before handing it over. She skims it with a smile, then freezes in place as she reads it more closely, her smile falling. She looks up at you, then back at the paper, reading it again and again as the words sink in.

"You- you can't file a complaint on me! I'm the one teaching you about sexual harassment! I'm here to make sure these brutes don't attack you!"

You shrug before responding, "I feel singled out by you due to my gender and your policing of the camaraderie between myself and my teammates. It is making me feel very uncomfortable, Ma'am." Her jaw is hanging open in complete shock.

You stand and turn to the Captain, watching you with a grin on his face at the front of the room. "I don't know if I feel comfortable being taught by someone who is sexist and clearly violating policy, Captain Price. May we request a different lecturer? I know it will mean rescheduling, but I don't think we should be learning about harassment from someone who has a complaint on file."

Captain Price has to smother his grin and bite back laughter at your innocent expression when Brenda turns toward him. "You are right, Sergeant. Ma'am, I will take that complaint and file it. It wouldn't be proper for you to file one on yourself, or it might go missing in transit." He gleefully plucks the paper from her hands and walks out. She follows, looking ill. You can hear her trying to get the Captain to stop and discuss the matter..

You lean on the table with a pleased look. "So, free afternoon, now. Any plans?" The team just stares at you, still processing what happened. You see Ghost staring down at the table and tap his hand. "You alright, Tiger?" He looks up, visibly distressed.

"The nicknames, do they bother you, Sergeant?" He needs to know now. The last thing anyone here wants is to disrespect you.

"Course not. Makes my day. The only things better are cuddling after a long day while we watch movies in the rec room or killing fucks on the field together. HR doesn't know what the fuck they're talking about, Bruv." Turning back to the rest of the team with a grin you say, "How about we sun up on Captain's grass? He won't be back for a bit anyway."

"You're playing with fire, Lamb. We're in."