“So do you fuck all of your inferiors? Or just the good-looking ones.”

John nearly chokes on his tea. After ten seconds of fumbling over himself, he manages to stutter, “P-Pardon?”

“Because I’ve never heard a sergeant say ‘sir’ with that much lust before,” you say, referring to the mohawked man who had just left. He was one of three who had left, members of the team you’re interviewing for. “And your lieutenant didn’t even try to hide his boner.”

You cross your arms and lean back, oddly relaxed. “So either you’re aware of the fact that they’re probably fucking each other’s brains out right now, or you’re a complete idiot.” You pause, taking a moment to point at John, whose lungs burn from the way he’s holding his breath. “But based on the fact that you’re as red as a tomato, I’ll say you know.”

Is this what it’s like to be humiliated? John asks himself. Unpleasant.

Except, your frown curls into something more pleasant, more conniving. You stand up, gently adjusting the pillow on the now-empty seat. You don’t look back when you reach the door, merely pausing.

“I look forward to hearing back from you, sir.”

was i high last night and mixed up inferior and insubordinate????? maybe.

King slayer, wreath layer

kill me again

john price x fem!reader

tw: inspired by kill me again (1989), domestic abuse/violence, blood kink, blood eating, smut, dub-con, unhinged john price, retired john price, manhandling, light breeding kink

The dreams start the day your husband first places his hands on you. 

Thinking about Johnny, who gets shot by Makarov (with more umpf and less shock value), and the team informs his significant other back home in Scotland. But really, he survived, and, per request of Johnny, they kept you in the dark until he was guaranteed more recovery. He didn't want you to see him struggle to even lift his hand. And he was terrified that survival was a fallacy, and the curtain would somehow fall.

You would insist on helping him, and he was resistant. Recovery wasn't glamorous. He didn't even want the team around him, but they were leeches. He still regrets how he treated Gaz one day when the poor man was just trying to help him shave after he complained of his unkempt beard bothering him.

He was overstimulated a lot nowadays.

He hates keeping you in the dark. He wants to be smothered by your whole being until he suffocates. He also fears your reaction when he finds himself on your shared doorstep one day. He survived the bullet, but he would never survive you hating him.

He recovers enough after a year to go home. His mohawk is gone, John MacTavish is legally dead , so Makarov thinks he succeeded.

He steps on the familiar porch, hands shaking from anxiety rather than the bullet frying his brain.

The poor man is rendered uselsss as soon as you open the door. His tongue goes dry, heart is doing some weird palpitations. More embarrassingly, he thinks he might shit himself.

You don't smack him. You don't lunge for a hug. You just stare, hand clenching around the door frame. And Johnny grows nervous. Maybe you moved on, maybe you hate him now, maybe you don't want-

He's stopped by the weak sob that escapes you. He looks up to see you look sick, like you’re two seconds away-

His arms are around you just as your legs start to turn into jelly. Muscles are evidentally less defined than they used to be, and he's still weak in a lot of ways. But he feels your warmth and wants to bury himself in it.

As soon as his arms are around you, you finally nuzzle yourself into him.

He's home.

I have more thoughts for this if anyone is interested...

I need to bite 🤤

You’re splayed out on the bed- this enormous thing Price organised for the four of you-

It was delivered by two moving guys who already looked overwhelmed at the prospect of getting it out of the truck, let alone carrying it down your garden path & into your attic bedroom. Lucky for them, Soap took it as a personal challenge to organise Simon (mostly), Gaz (somewhat) and Price (not at all) to lift and carry the bed up park, through the French doors and the stairs.

Price pulled you onto his lap, and you both sat on the deck admiring your men (pretend to) struggle under the weight of the mattress. Price lit a cigar and snuck a hand up your shorts-

“Well then missy, I suppose we better find something to put it on.”

“You didn’t think to get a bed frame?” You turn into him, as he takes another drag, “that might be the most guy thing you’ve ever done.”

“Ah don’t worry about it sweetheart,” he huffs, his fore finger skimming the elastic of your underwear, “ ‘m sure me and Simon can knock something together.”

And they did- this minimal but incredibly solid bed frame made of reclaimed oak- one they insisted on “breaking in” more than a few times

Simon "missionary sex, because I'm not done arguing" Riley

rest & relaxation

NOT THE CHAIR TATTOO ON JOHNNY'S THIGH LIKE YES SIR, LEMME TAKE A SEAT, PLEASE!!! 😭🫠

if I were a bee I'd fetishize the idea of a beekeeper clipping my tiny wings so I can't escape (remembers you're not supposed to say shit like that) I mean yesterday I ate two yogurts normally

LONG HAIR GAZ?!!???!!??!!

Does anybody else get this killer idea for a fic and then when you open a doc to write everything just disappears from your brain

Here’s another thought since that’s all I can manage 💔

Poly 141!!

141 that just can’t split from each other after retirement. Soap gets shot, discharged, and they all leave, finding their own ways to be discharged.

Price who has always wanted a wife, a family, but can’t make himself leave his team.

Gaz who misses the fleeting connections he used to make on leave after missions, missing going out and bringing a pretty woman home with him.

Soap who’s losing his mind each day he isn’t allowed to sink his teeth into something sweet and soft, yearns to be the one holding rather than the one being held.

Ghost, who solves the problem.

He brings home a sweet thing he found working at a gas station. “Trying to pay for school,” she said nervously when he asked what she was doing working at such a dump.

So naturally, he saved her. He’s gotta do something about the guilt that eats away at him day after day.

What better way to absolve him than to give an angel a comfy life?

John doesn’t let you go back to school. You belong here, with them. You’re part of the team, one of theirs, they’ll take care of you.

Kyle is enamored, spends all his free time making sure you get to spend some time in the sun with him, going on walks and forcing you to talk about anything and everything you’ve ever enjoyed.

Johnny paws at you and forces you into his lap, nuzzling into your neck and coddling you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

Simon watches, notes your every move. It’s no surprise to him when you try to escape, and he dries your tears for you while John punishes you.

Y’r stuck ‘ere, doll. Best get used to it, yeah? We’ll take care o’ ya.

Laying on your stomach so you can play your video game while Soap ruts his cock against your ass. Not allowed to break his lenten pussy fast he pushes his lube slick cock between your soft cheeks and whines for you to pay attention to him. The man is panting and begging for any scrap you'll give him as he humps you like a dog. You'd almost feel bad for him if he hadn't begged for this in the first place.

this is so stupid

the 141 and taylor swift is my dream blunt rotation

Petty arguments turned to silent treatments. Its not even big serious arguments, no. Its far from serious, silly even, how they would argue about a fictional characters actions, theories, and so on.

Now, Simon is a quiet man himself, he's used to silence, quiet...he can go days without uttering a word. But you? Now that he cant handle.

He always breaks first. Always come to initiate, new for him, but for you? He is so willing, a weak for his love.

But he got an idea, if you wont come to him to talk, then he would make you.

Petty, sure. But he did it. Tightened jars and placed it high up, smirk on his lips as he imagines how it'll turn out.

But oh, youre so unpredictable.

About to make a pasta, you did struggle to reach the cupboard but managed by using a chair, then tries to open the jar, with him lurking behind, pretending to rummage the pantry on the side all while eyeing you with a small smirk, waiting for you to call for help.

Then the sound of glass braking made his smirk drop so fast. All while you stir the tomato paste into the pot- along with the broken shards of glass.

Simon knew you are stubborn, but this sure did prove him wrong, you were more than stubborn.

And like everytime, he breaks.

"..Luvie...you could have asked.."

You keep on stirring as if its normal thing to do, broken shards of glass clinking the pot.

"I wouldnt have to if you didnt tighten them, no?"

One glare from you and he knew he fucked up. "Luv, I-"

With ladle in hand, you pointed at him, "Dont try me again."

Simon watched you threw the ladle on the sink and walks away, leaving him stunned.

Scared and inlove even more than he already is.

And hard 'coz a threat from you is sexy- a whole kink awakened something in him.