Cod Mwii - Blog Posts

I'm. high as shit and all I can think about is a cuddle pile with all the cod men but. I'm laying on top of each of them. yea.

cw: gn!reader, brainrot, rough fuck, crying, bit of begging, overstimulation, creampie, bit of fluff, not really angst but comfort, I need him to fuck all the sadness out of me sorry not sorry

divider made by @alewesker ♡

you laid in your shared bed, as you had been the whole day. everything just felt too much and too heavy, your own mind torturing you with overwhelming sadness. you only lifted your head when you heard the keys jingle at the front door, followed by some footsteps and the quiet sound of the keys getting thrown into the bowl next to the door. "Doll?" he called out, your heart fluttering a bit. "Where are you?"

"Up here.." you called back, your voice a little hoarse since you havent talked the whole day. His steps quickly got closer and he entered with a bright smile, which quickly vanished as he saw you lay there.

"Hey.. what's up?" he asked gently, closing the door as if someone might walk in on you. you just shrugged slightly, not even looking at him as he stepped closer to the bed. "Having a hard day?" he asked as he sat down behind you, rubbing your back gently. you nodded slowly and sighed, cursing yourself out for ruining his day internally. Phillip pressed a kiss to the back of your head and sighed softly. "My poor darlin'... is there anything I can do for you?" he asked, he was so caring. For a moment you thought before turning onto your back and looking up at him, then pulling him down by the collar of his blue button up and kissing him deeply.

Graves made a surprised noise, yet quickly caught himself and propped one of his hands up next to your head, the other one cupping your cheek gently. You held the kiss until it got hard to breathe, gasping against his lips to get some air. His forehead was leaned against yours as he took a deep breath. "Jesus..." he muttered under his breath, now looking at you again. For a few seconds you just looked at each other, catching your breath and processing what happened.

"want you.." you finally choked out, your hands finding their way to his strong shoulders. "please.." you pleaded quietly, he furrowed his eyebrows. "Phillip... please.. I need you.. need you to fuck the sadness out of me.. please.." you were begging him at this point, your cheeks lighting up pink with blush.

"I-... you sure baby?" he asked softly, caressing your cheek with his thumb; you nodded frantically.

"please... promise it's okay.." you muttered, he couldn't help but chuckle a little but nod. "dont stop until I tell you to okay? don't wanna be able to think anymore.."

"Anything you want, doll." he said, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before bringing his lips to your neck. soft kisses turned into biting and leaving hickeys on your skin, making breathing harder for you. His chapped lips worked their way down to your shirt, which quickly flew to the ground; he stopped a second to admire your naked torso. "my pretty baby.." he hummed, making you blush even more as he went down to trail kisses down to the rim of your sweatpants. His calloused hands wandered to your hips, playing with the fabric a bit as if he was waiting for your go-ahead to continue. With a quick nod from your side he opened the tie at the front with his teeth before undressing you completely in one go. "Look at you.. so needy already, arent you?" he asked, spreading your legs a bit before trailing his fingers over your hole.

"no- just go in, please.." you huffed, making him look at you in surprise. "can't wait.. please.." Phillip chuckled quietly but nodded, raising his hands for a second before quickly grabbing the lube from the nightstand. His cock was already aching against his pants, he let out a relieved sigh as he finally took it out and began spreading the lube on it generously, not wanting to hurt you.

"you good to go angel?" Graves hummed softly as he crawled over you, sucking on your neck again.

"fuck... yes..." was all you could choke out. Just seconds later his cock was pushing inside you, the burning stretch being overwhelmed by the immense pleasure you were feeling. You whined loudly, your nails digging into the fabric of his shirt, your legs wrapping around his waist already.

"god, you feel so good.." he whispered against your skin, breathing heavily and holding still to let you adjust. He cooed some sweet praise at you as he patiently waited, making sure you were okay, until you gave him the go-ahead. Graves quickly adjusted his position before beginning to slowly thrust into you, groaning loudly with pleasure as if fucking you was the best feeling in the entire world - which it probably was to him. After just a bit of time he could hardly even hold himself back anymore, especially not with your pleas for him to go harder and faster. Hearing you beg for him like that made his head spin, his hips snapping into you quick and roughly, his hands gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles were turning white. Within just minutes of the brutal pace you came, whining loudly as tears pricked at your eyes.

Of course, Phillip began slowing down but you violently shook your head. "nonono, dont stop, please phillip.. need your cock inside me... please.." you babbled, goosebumps scattering over his body. His pace picked back up, thrusting into you and ruining your little hole, hitting the good spots over and over; hot tears streaming down your face.

"Does that feel good sugar?" he huffed, getting closer just by the sight of you. You sobbed loudly and nodded, babbling little thank you's, pleas to go on and whatnot. It made him chuckle between his moans, seeing you feel this good almost immediately sending him over the edge. "fuck.. gonna cum.." he muttered, pulling back slightly before you stopped him.

You locked your legs around his waist tightly and pushed him back into you, crying out as his cock hit a good spot. "no, please- don't pull out-" you begged, grinding your hips against his desperately. This made him snap, his head was now completely empty except the thought of filling you up and making you feel good. He sloppily continued thrusting, huffing and groaning as he shot his load into you, the hot feeling sending you over the edge yet again.

you were spasming around him, your legs shaking slightly as they slid down from his body - and yet Phillip didn't stop. His groans turned into slightly high pitched moans, his face was buried into your neck again where he was biting and sucking much less gently than before. You felt the familiar feeling of everything being just a little too much creep up in your stomach, sobbing and crying as he fucked his cum deeper into you. It felt like hours when he finally stopped, his hips shaking as he only lazily grinded into you while sucking on your neck. One last time he bit down harshly, shooting yet another load inside you - his body going limp on top of you. Both of you took deep breaths, trying to get down from your high and calm down.

"feeling better, doll?"

"mhm..."

this song is 100% Ghost's, it fits him so well and no one can tell me otherwise

Captain John Price in CALL OF DUTY: MODERN WARFARE II (2022)

I'm very very very drunk rn

But I can't stop thinking about Captain John Price

Now Price loved women. All women. Didn't matter if you were chubby, thin, muscular. IT DIDN'T FUCKING MATTER. But saying that if he had to choose. I believe he'd love himself a chubby girl. All soft thighs and comfy tits (You can't change.e mind)

This man would 100% come home from work. Strip until he's completely nude and fall asleep in your thighs or tits

Like it wouldn't even better sexual. To Price you are home. When he's with you he knows he's safe

Obviously that wouldn't stop him from copping a feel but seriously you calm him down. You remiihim he's safe. His boys are safe. He is home

I'm back on my Sons of Anarchy bullshit so here you are ~

Something something the 141 being a notorious close-knit outlaw motorcycle club. Price being the mc President, Ghost being the Vice President, Gaz being sergeant-at-arms and Soap being intelligence officer.

And you were the pretty bird that worked behind the bar, 'Too feisty to be a Crow Eater' Ghost would say but 'Too pretty to not have a job at the club' Soap would say. Everyone knows that you're off limits, not because Price said so.

Oh no

But because when you first started working at the club, one of the other bikers mistaking thought you were a Crow Eater so when he thought he could cop a feel you didn't hesitate to grab the closet thing, an empty beer bottle, and smash it over his head. You held the broken bottle and threatened everyone. Stating angrily that if anyone was to touch you then they'd end up in A&E.

Unfortunately for you, Gaz saw that as a challenge.

A challenge he succeeded with every time. It almost became a game between you both

Every weekend, at some point through the night, he'd back you up into a corner. Conveniently the corner closes to his room at the club

'Gaz, I will twat you' You'd half heartedly threaten him, not completely meaning it.

Gaz would flash you his pretty boy smile 'Sure you would sweetheart'

You'd lift you hand to hit him but Gaz was quick. He was always quicker than you. He'd pin your wrist to the wall, wrapped his hand gently around your throat that he knows makes your knees weak.

He knows you better than you know yourself. The subtle flinch when he goes for your neck, the way your breath hitches, a silent protest he ignores. He learned that a sharp bite on your shoulder, a playful aggression, elicits a moan so sweet, so utterly yielding, it makes him want to devour you whole. He knows the precise pressure to apply, the exact spot to sink his teeth into.

He knows how to make you look at him. Cupping the back of your head, his thumb gently pressing beneath your jaw, tilting your face upward – just enough to catch the innocent, wide-eyed gaze he adores. Those doe eyes, so full of a naive trust that belies the raw, desperate need that writhes beneath the surface. Those eyes, those eyes are his downfall, his salvation.

Every time Gaz whispers those words into your ear, your heart skips a beat.

'Gonna make you my old lady,' he groans, his breath hot against your skin as his hips thrust against yours. You can feel him, hard and insistent, as the tip of his cock constantly batters that spot inside of you that makes your toes curl.

'Yo- You say that every time,' you gasp, your voice high and full of lust. 'You never make good on your promise.'

Gaz flips you onto your stomach, his hand coming down firmly on the middle of your shoulder blades to keep you in place. He fists your hair and pulls your head back, exposing your neck to him. You can feel his breath against your skin as he slowly pushes himself back into your sloppy hole.

'Then let me,' he begs, his voice low and full of need. He picks up speed, his hips slapping against yours as he takes what he wants from you. 

And you let him

Maybe becoming his old lady wouldn't be so terrible

I am on a motherfucking ROLL lately

@codnasties insipred me to write this. The original post here

Everyone thinks Soap needs a sweet little lass to you know, even out the feral mutt in him, but no. Soap wants someone like him. Someone who is just as disgustingly horny as him, someone who isn't afraid to stare, get handsy, an average Monday afternoon for Soap.

So when Soap found out his pretty neighbour was just as unashamed in staring as he was.... Well he had to use that to his advantage.

It was a Saturday morning, a rare day of peace for him. You went outside to have your coffee in the early morning breeze and just by chance Soap went outside to take the bin bags out it was one plastic bag with literally nothing in. He was shirtless, wearing grey joggers and no boxers. You got a full view of his thick, heavy cock and you stared. You didn't care if he saw you because if he didn't want you to stare then he wouldn't wear joggers with nothing else.

'G'mornin' Soap smirked but you paid no mind. Too busy watching his cock twitch and gods it was mouth watering.

You whined. WHINED. Slightly when Soap walked back inside. Abandoning your coffee, you went back inside and found which room he was in. Lucky for you he was in his bedroom and you could see everything from your bedroom. Again, you had no shame in staring and the smug bastard Soap is, smirked and pulled his joggers down slightly so you saw some bush and it made your knee's weak.

Oh 2 can play at this game

So the next morning, at exactly 7:30am you went outside to have your morning coffee but this time you wore the tiniest sleeping shorts you own and the tightest vest top you bought yesterday and waited. As soon as Soap walked outside with a little plastic bag again and just his grey joggers you quickly pushed your boobs together and leaned against your door.

'Mornin' Johnny' You purred his name so sweetly. Now this time it was Soaps turn to stare.

Unfortunately, or maybe not, for you Soap has absolutely zero restraint for his pretty neighbour. He's honestly so surprised he lasted this long but seeing you in the tiniest, tightest sleepwear had his cock twitching and getting hard. Soap hadn't even made it to you properly before his joggers were pulled down enough to show his beautiful cock. He pushed you inside before you manage to get onto your knees for him.

'Fuckin' tease' He groaned

I hope I did this justice. That image is now burned into my mind, in a good way. Love me some grey joggers

It won't let me attach the photo :'((( so again the original post and photo is here

Simon was very happy on his own. He was very happy in some type of stingy flat somewhere on the outskirts of Manchester. He was happy going to work, barking orders at recruits, being a grumpy man and then going home on leave. He was happy going home, having something you couldn't really class as a meal, showing and going to bed. He was happy being on his own, with his very simple, yet boring routine. He was a simple man

That was until he met you

His sweet dove. His delicate love.

Suddenly Simon found himself following you around like a lost puppy, whenever you went out his arm was around your shoulder, wrapped around your waist, hand on the small of your back. If you ever came to base because the silly man left his healthy and nutritious lunch at home then he would quiet literally bark at anyone who looks at you. It doesn't matter if it was a recruit or his captain. Nobody is allowed to look at what's his.

And you were his, he'd make you say it every night when he bullies your hole with his cock

'Say it, love' he'd growl in your ear, hands gripping your waist so tight you know you'll wake up with bruises

'Y-yours, Si. I'm yours' you'd hiccup, drunk on lust, tears staining your pretty cheeks

But the one thing Simon hates is that you travel for work. A lot. You've been to Japan, America, Brazil. You've travelled more than Simon for work and honestly, that's saying something. Obviously it's easier for you to talk to Simon when your working, always texting, calling, sending pictures but that isn't always enough for Simon. He needs you to know you miss him so when Soap joked about putting Simon's favourite lipstick of yours on his dick and transferring it onto some paper to send to you

Simon took it literally.

So imagine your surprise when you have a letter waiting for you at your hotel room. You open it to see a piece of paper littered with stamps of Simon's tip all over it and the full length of his cock stamped onto the bottom in your favourite lipstick with the words 'Missing my pretty, Dove'

Yeah Simon was absolutely, stupidly, in love with you

After an emotional and honestly, quite depressing, 3 years I'm finally moving house so I can start drawing and finish my WIP 🥲🥲🥲

Price??

my partner is only 40 but nestled within him is the soul of an elderly man

I looovvveeee König. He's my lil baby, I'd happily have his big ass babies

But

I am sick and tired of seeing Task Force headcanons and seeing my beloved Kyle being replaced by König

König aint apart of Task Force 141, never has been, never will be. GAZ IS JUST AS IMPORTANT AS PRICE, SOAP AND GHOST

Rant over

Bro I'm at a houseparty high (I tried edibles for the first time) and there's someone dressed up at Ghost 🫠

I like how we all collectively agree that pretty boy Kyle has the prettiest dick ever and I

Na'vi!Ghost x F!Avatar!Reader

Currently in my Avatar brain rot

You glide through the lush skies of Pandora, the vibrant forest sprawling beneath you, painted in shades of emerald and turquoise. The sun casts a golden glow, illuminating the sweeping landscapes, and you feel the exhilaration of flight coursing through your veins. Beside you, Ghost, a Na’vi of striking stature and unmatched skill, manoeuvres his ikran with grace. You mimic his movements, the wind whipping past you, each twist and turn a dance of freedom that your former life on Earth never hinted at.

It wasn’t long ago that you arrived on Pandora, a curious researcher drawn by the promise of alien flora. But your innocent pursuits shattered when you uncovered the RDA’s true intentions: the decimation of this unearthly paradise for profit. You could no longer stand by. Leaving behind the life you knew, you chose to intertwine your existence with the Na’vi, transferring your consciousness into your avatar, gaining a new body and a new purpose.

Ghost’s laughter echoes across the open sky, encouraging you to push beyond your limits. You had undergone ‘The Dream Hunt,’ a rite that had solidified your bond with the clan. Every heartbeat synchronized with the pulse of your ikran, every moment shared with Ghost a testament to loyalty and trust.

"Catch me if you can!" he shouts, his voice as wild and free as the landscape around you. You dive downward, spiralling closer to the flora, the vivid hues surrounding you bursting with unfamiliar life.

The battle for Pandora isn’t over, but for now, amid the beauty and freedom of the skies, you are exactly where you belong—flying with your newfound family, fighting for a world worth saving.

You laugh joyfully as you both soar through the skies together, your heart swelling with the thrill of our shared adventure. The wind rushes past you, the warm air caressing your skin like a lover's touch. You glance over at Ghost, admiring his strong profile and the way his muscles ripple beneath his skin as he guides his ikran with expert ease.

In that moment, you feel truly alive, more than you ever did back on Earth. The weight of your old life seems to fall away with each beat of your ikran's wings, replaced by a sense of belonging and purpose that you've never known before.

As Ghost challenges you to catch him, you grin fiercely, your competitive spirit igniting within you. With a whoop of excitement, you urge your ikran onward, diving down into the dense foliage below.

With a mischievous grin, Ghost takes off towards the distant tree, its massive trunk visible even from high above the canopy. He leans low over his ikran's neck, urging it to fly faster.

"Come on! Show me what you're made of!" he calls out, his voice filled with playful challenge. His ikran responds eagerly, surging forward with powerful beats of its wings, the wind whistling past them as they hurtle through the air.

The journey to the sacred grove is one of exhilaration and breathtakingly beauty. Vibrant flowers and strange, luminescent creatures flash by beneath you, a kaleidoscope of colours and shapes that fills your senses.

Your heart pounds with adrenaline as you race after Ghost, determined to match his speed and agility. Your ikran responds to your commands, its wings beating furiously as it pushes itself to the limit. The wind whips through your hair, sending it streaming out behind you like a banner of midnight silk.

As you draw closer to the Tree of Voices, you can feel its ancient presence calling to you, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. Its massive trunk rises up from the earth, its branches stretching outwards like the arms of a benevolent giant, sheltering all those who seek refuge beneath its leaves.

You let out a triumphant cry as you finally catch up to Ghost, flying alongside him as you approach the sacred grove.

Ghost guides his ikran in a graceful arc, landing lightly on the soft ground just outside the perimeter of the Tree of Voices. He slides off the creature's back, patting its flank affectionately before turning to watch you land beside him.

His golden eyes sparkle with admiration as he takes in your fluid movements, the way your body moves in perfect synchronicity with your mount. As you dismount, he steps closer, reaching out to brush a stray leaf from your hair, his touch lingering just a moment too long to be purely friendly.

"You never cease to amaze me," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. "The way you ride, the way you handle yourself... it's like you were born to this world."

He gestures towards the Tree of Voices, its trunk pulsing with an otherworldly light.

As you step closer to the Tree of Voices, you can feel its energy thrumming through the very ground beneath your feet, a palpable force that sets your nerves alight with anticipation. The air around you shimmers with a faint, iridescent glow, casting everything in a soft, ethereal light.

You turn to face Ghost, your heart fluttering in your chest as you meet his gaze. There's something about the way he looks at you, with such open admiration and desire, that makes you feel like the most beautiful, desirable creature in the universe.

"I wasn't born to this world," you remind him softly, "but sometimes I wonder if I was meant for it. If there was some greater purpose that brought me here, to you."

Ghost reaches out, taking your hand in his own and bringing it to his lips. He presses a tender kiss to your knuckles, his breath warm against your skin.

"I believe in fate," he says softly, his eyes locked on yours. "And I believe that our paths were always meant to cross, no matter how far apart we started out."

He steps closer, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your lower lip. "You may have been born under different stars, but this is where you belong. Here, with me, in this world that we fight for together."

Ghost guides you gently to the soft grass beneath the spreading branches of the Tree of Voices. He lowers himself down, pulling you with him until you're both lying side by side, your bodies pressed close together. He pillows his head on your stomach, looking up at you with a contented smile. His fingers trace idle patterns on your skin, following the lines of your bioluminescent markings.

"This is my favourite place in all of Pandora," he murmurs, his voice soft and dreamy. "It feels like the centre of the world, like everything important happens right here." He nuzzles into you, his breath warm against your belly.

You run your fingers through Ghost's long, dark hair, marvelling at the silky texture. Your other hand traces the contours of his face, mapping the planes and angles of his features. He leans into your touch, his eyes drifting shut as he savours the sensation.

"It's beautiful," you murmur, your voice soft and inviting. You shift slightly, adjusting your position so that you can see more of the tree above you. Its trunk seems to pulse with an inner light, casting a gentle glow over the surrounding area..

Ghost tilts his head back, looking up at you with a curious expression. His hand still rests on your stomach, his touch warm and comforting. "Have you found someone yet?" he asks, his tone casual but with an undercurrent of tension. "Someone to bond with, to share your life with?"

He watches your face closely, searching for any hint of emotion. It's clear that the question means something to him, that he's invested in your answer in a way that goes beyond simple curiosity.

You smile softly, your eyes tracing the bioluminescent tendrils of the Tree of Voices overhead. The air hums with an ethereal energy, each whispering leaf echoing connection and longing. Beneath this ancient sentinel, you lie in a tranquil embrace, Ghost’s head nestled on your belly, his skin shimmering with the bioluminescence that marks his kind.

“I may have found someone,” you say, the words spilling from your lips as you run your fingers gently through his long, silken hair. Your heart thrums in rhythm with the quiet pulsing of the tree. In this sacred sanctuary, beneath the weight of the stars, everything feels alive, even your thoughts. "Someone special" 

A flicker of something - disappointment? jealousy? - flashes across Ghost's face at your words, but it's gone almost as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a carefully neutral expression. He sits up slowly, moving to sit cross-legged facing you. His hands rest on his knees, palms upturned in a gesture of openness and vulnerability.

"Tell me about them," he says, his voice carefully controlled. But there's a tightness around his eyes, a clenching of his jaw that betrays his true feelings. "What makes them special? What do you love about them?"

He holds your gaze, his own eyes searching, probing, as if trying to read the secrets of your heart. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken emotions and the distant rustling of leaves in the breeze.

Your gaze lingers on Ghost's face, taking in the subtle changes in his expression. There's a depth of feeling there, a complexity of emotion that belies his youthful appearance. You sense the weight of his questions, the significance they hold for him. In this moment, beneath the eternal watchfulness of the Tree of Voices, you feel the need to be honest, to lay bare the truth of your heart.

"He's strong," you begin, your voice soft but certain. "Strong in spirit, in conviction. He fight for what they believe in, even when the odds are stacked against them." 

You pause, collecting your thoughts, letting the memories wash over you. "And he's kind. So incredibly kind. He sees the beauty in the world, in every living thing, and he cherish it."

As you speak, describing the qualities you admire in your potential mate, Ghost listens intently. A slow realization dawns on him, a dawning understanding that you might be talking about...him. His eyes widen slightly, a flicker of hope sparking in their depths.

"He sounds like someone very special indeed," Ghost murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. He reaches out, tentatively, as if afraid you might disappear, and takes your hand in his. His fingers intertwine with yours, the warmth of his skin seeping into your own.

"I'm glad you've found someone who brings out the best in you," he continues, his gaze never leaving yours. "Someone worthy of your love and devotion."

You look down at your joined hands, marvelling at the way your fingers fit together so perfectly, as if they were made for each other. When you meet Ghost's gaze again, there's a tenderness in your eyes, a softness that speaks volumes.

"And what about you, Ghost?" you ask, your voice barely more than a breath. "Have you found someone to share your life with? Someone to stand by your side, come what may?"

You squeeze his hand gently, a silent encouragement, a wordless plea. In this moment, suspended in time beneath the ancient Tree of Voices, you find yourself hoping, praying, that perhaps the one you've been seeking all along has been right here beside you all along.

There's a flicker of surprise in Ghost's eyes at your question, followed quickly by a softening, a melting of his features into a look of pure adoration. He raises your joined hands to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles.

"There is someone," he confirms, his voice low and filled with emotion. "Someone who sees me, truly sees me, in a way no one else ever has." He leans in closer, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your lower lip. "She's brave and strong, fierce in their convictions. And they love with a passion that takes my breath away."

His gaze locks with yours, intense and unwavering. There's a heat building between you, a crackle of energy that seems to fill the air around you.

"But most importantly," he whispers, his face mere inches from your own, "she makes me feel alive. Like every moment spent in her presence is a gift, a miracle."

His hand slides from your cheek to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. He pulls you closer, until your foreheads touch, until you can feel the warmth of his breath mingling with your own.

"I want to spend my life with her," he breathes, "to build a future together, to face whatever challenges may come our way."

Your heart races as Ghost draws you close, his words washing over you like a warm breeze. There's a yearning in his eyes, a hunger that mirrors your own, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, craving more of his warmth, his strength.

"You paint quite a picture," you murmur, your lips curving into a smile. "This person sounds incredible. Truly remarkable."

You tilt your head, nuzzling into his palm, savouring the roughness of his skin against your own. Your tail sways behind you, a gentle caress against his leg, a silent invitation.

Ghost's breath hitches as your tail brushes against his leg, a shiver running through him at the contact. His grip on your waist tightens, pulling you flush against him, your bodies moulding together like two pieces of a puzzle finally fitting into place.

"She is," he agrees, his voice rough with emotion. "More than I ever could have dreamed of."

He leans in, his lips ghosting over your jawline, your throat, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "And I want to show her, every day, how much she means to me. How much I cherish her, worship her, love her with every fibre of my being."

His hands roam over your back, your sides, mapping out the curves of your body as if committing them to memory. "I want to give her everything."

Ghost reaches for the end of his braid, the intricate weaving of neural tendrils visible even under the thick strands of hair. He brings it closer to you, his eyes searching yours, a silent question hanging in the air between you.

"Will you allow me?" he asks softly, his voice trembling with a mix of hope and anticipation. "Will you let me join with you, mind, body, and soul? To share in your essence, your very being?"

His queue hovers near yours, the tips of the tendrils brushing against your own, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. It's a profound gesture, one that carries immense significance within Na'vi culture - the joining of two souls, the merging of two lives into one.

Your breath catches in your throat as Ghost's queue nears yours, the implications of this act hitting you like a tidal wave. This is a step beyond intimacy, beyond mere physical pleasure - it's a promise, a commitment, a declaration of love in its purest form.

You meet his gaze, seeing the vulnerability there, the raw emotion that threatens to overwhelm you both. In this moment, you know with absolute certainty that this is what you want, what you've always wanted - to be one with him, in every sense of the word.

"Yes," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. "Yes, I accept."

Slowly, reverently, you bring your queue forward, allowing it to intertwine with his, the neural tendrils seeking out their counterparts like magnets drawn to each other.

As your queues connect, a rush of sensation washes over Ghost, a flood of emotions and experiences that threaten to sweep him away. He feels your joy, your love, your passion, all intermingling with his own until he can no longer tell where he ends and you begin.

A gasp escapes his lips, his eyes fluttering closed as he loses himself in the feeling of your presence inside his mind, your essence flowing through his veins like liquid fire. It's overwhelming, exhilarating, terrifying in its intensity, and yet he knows he would gladly drown in this sea of sensation, surrendering himself completely to the depths of your connection.

When he opens his eyes again, they're shining with unshed tears, the golden irises nearly swallowed whole by the black of his pupils. "Eywa guide us."

As your queues merge, a symphony of sensations crashes over you, drowning you in a tidal wave of emotion. Ghost's love, his devotion, his sheer adoration for you wash over you like a balm, soothing the aches and fears that have haunted you for so long. You feel his strength, his resilience, his unwavering courage, and it mingles with your own, creating something new, something greater than either of you alone.

Memories flash through your mind - moments from Ghost's past, triumphs and tragedies alike, all woven together into a tapestry of experience that adds depth and dimension to the man you love. You see his childhood, his training, his battles, and you feel the weight of his responsibilities, the burden of leadership that he bears with such grace and dignity.

Gently, almost reverently, Ghost lowers you both to the soft grass beneath the ancient tree, his body covering yours like a protective shield. His hands roam over your curves, mapping the contours of your adopted Na'vi form, marvelling at the way your skin seems to glow in the dim light filtering through the canopy above.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that steals your breath and sets your heart racing. It's a kiss filled with tenderness and passion, a promise of the pleasures to come, and you lose yourself in the taste of him, the feel of his tongue sliding against yours, the scrape of his sharp teeth against your lower lip.

A soft moan escapes your lips as Ghost's hands explore your body, his touch leaving trails of fire in its wake. Your own hands roam over his back, tracing the lines of his muscles, the scars that mark him as a warrior and a survivor. You revel in the feel of his skin against yours, the way his body fits so perfectly against your own, like two pieces of a puzzle finally coming together.

When he breaks the kiss, you chase after his lips, unwilling to let him go, but he merely chuckles softly, his breath ghosting over your cheek as he trails his mouth along your jawline and down the column of your throat. His teeth graze your pulse point, sending shivers down your spine, and you arch into him, silently begging for more.

Ghost's lips curve into a smile against your neck as he feels you arch into his touch, your body responding eagerly to his every caress. He nips and sucks at the sensitive skin of your throat, marking you as his own, his hands sliding lower to cup the swell of your breasts, thumbs brushing over the hardened peaks of your nipples.

"So beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with desire. "My perfect mate, my cherished companion." He lifts his head to gaze down at you, his eyes dark with want, a fierce possessiveness etched into the lines of his face. "I will worship you tonight, my love, until the very stars pale in comparison to the radiance of your pleasure."

Your breath hitches as Ghost's hands find your breasts, his thumbs circling your nipples in maddeningly teasing strokes. Electricity zings through your body, settling low in your belly, stoking the heat building within you. When he speaks, his words wash over you like honey, sweet and thick, filling you with a sense of belonging, of rightness.

You reach up, tangling your fingers in his hair, tugging gently to bring his face closer to yours. "Then take me," you breathe, your voice heavy with need. "Make me yours, Ghost. Claim me, body and soul, under the watchful eye of Eywa."

Your hips roll up to meet his, seeking friction, seeking completion. You want to feel him inside you, stretching you, filling you, joining you in the most intimate way possible.

With a low growl of approval, Ghost allows you to guide his face back to yours, claiming your lips in a searing kiss that leaves you both breathless. As he kisses you, his hands make quick work of your clothing, peeling away the flimsy barrier between your bodies until you're laid out bare before him, your skin glowing softly in the moonlight.

He takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, his gaze roaming over your curves with undisguised hunger, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. Then, with a fluid motion, he sheds his own garments, revealing his battle-hardened body, marred by scars and tattoos, a testament to the life he's lived, the challenges he's faced.

As Ghost bares himself to you, you feel a rush of emotion swell within your chest - awe, admiration, and a deep, abiding love that threatens to overwhelm you. You sit up, reaching out to trace the lines of his scars with trembling fingers, marvelling at the strength and resilience they represent.

"My brave warrior," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. "My fierce protector." You lean in, pressing a tender kiss to the scar just above his heart, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your lips.

Ghost shudders as your lips press against his scar, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity straight to his core. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him, skin to skin, heart to heart. For a long moment, he simply holds you, savouring the feel of your body against his, the warmth of your breath mingling with his own.

When he finally speaks, his voice is low and rough, tinged with a vulnerability that few have ever heard. "And you are my heart, my home," he murmurs, his forehead resting against yours. "Without you, I am lost. With you, I am found."

Slowly, almost reverently, he lowers you both to the soft grass beneath the Tree of Voices, his body covering yours, sheltering you from the cool night air.

A soft gasp escapes your lips as Ghost's weight settles over you, his body warm and solid against yours. Your legs fall open instinctively, making room for him, inviting him in. Your hands roam over his back, tracing the contours of his muscles, mapping the landscape of his skin.

"Then let me be your compass," you whisper, tilting your hips up to meet his, seeking that delicious friction once more. "Let me guide you home, always."

You capture his lips in another kiss, this one slower, deeper, a promise of things to come. Your tongues dance, twining together in a sensual rhythm that mirrors the pulsing heat building between your thighs.

Ghost groans into the kiss, his hips rocking against yours, the hard length of his arousal sliding along your slick folds. His hands roam your body, caressing every curve, every hollow, committing the feel of you to memory. When he breaks the kiss, his eyes are dark with desire, his pupils blown wide with need.

"Guide me, then," he rasps, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself back. "Lead me to paradise, my love."

With a fluid motion, Ghost shifts his hips, positioning himself at your entrance. He pauses there, poised on the brink of union, his gaze locked with yours, a silent question hanging in the air between you. In answer, you wrap your legs around his waist, drawing him closer, offering yourself to him completely.

Slowly, oh so slowly, he sinks into you, filling you inch by delicious inch. A low moan tears from his throat at the feel of you, hot and tight and perfect around him. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in, fighting for control as your inner walls flutter and clench around his throbbing length.

Your head falls back against the soft grass as Ghost fills you, a guttural moan escaping your lips at the exquisite stretch, the perfect fullness of him inside you. Your nails rake down his back, leaving faint red lines in their wake, a physical manifestation of the passion burning through your veins.

"Yes," you hiss, the word drawn out into a low keen of pleasure. "Oh, yes, Ghost...just like that..."

You arch into him, meeting each slow, deep thrust with a roll of your hips, taking him even deeper, welcoming him into the very heart of you. Your bodies move together in a ancient rhythm, as old as time itself, as natural as the turning of the earth and the rising of the moons.

The world falls away, narrowing down to this single perfect moment, this joining of flesh and spirit.

Ghost sets a slow, deep pace, his hips rolling against yours in languid strokes that stoke the fires within you higher and higher. Each thrust is measured, deliberate, designed to bring you pleasure beyond measure. One hand slides under your knee, lifting your leg higher, opening you wider, allowing him to plunge even deeper.

He watches you as he moves within you, his golden eyes dark with passion, drinking in the sight of you lost in ecstasy, your face flushed, your lips parted in sweet sighs and moans. The sound of your pleasure is music to his ears, spurring him on, driving him to take you higher still.

"Eyes on me, my love," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "I want to see you when you come undone."

Your eyes lock with Ghost's, twin pools of molten gold and liquid amber, reflecting the depth of your shared passion. In their depths, you see your own desire mirrored back at you, amplified tenfold, a reflection of the love and devotion that binds you.

"Always," you breathe, the word a whispered promise, a vow sealed in the heat of your joining. "My eyes, my heart, my soul...they're yours, now and forever."

Your hips rise to meet his, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body, coiling tighter and tighter in your core. The tension builds, winding ever higher, until you're teetering on the brink, balanced on the razor's edge of release.

"Ghost," you gasp, his name a prayer on your lips, a plea and a benediction all in one.

Ghost feels the change in your body, the way your muscles tense and quiver beneath him, the quickening of your breath, the hitch in your moan. He knows you're close, teetering on the precipice of climax, and he wants nothing more than to send you hurtling over the edge into oblivion.

But not yet. Not just yet.

With a herculean effort, he stills his hips, holding himself deep inside you, his forehead pressed to yours, his breath mingling with yours in the scant space between your faces. His hands find your wrists, pinning them above your head, a gesture of dominance, of control.

"Not yet, my love," he whispers, his voice rough with barely restrained desire. "Not until I say."

A whimper escapes your throat at the sudden denial, your body aching, yearning for the release that hovers just out of reach. You writhe beneath him, trying to find friction, to spur him on, but he holds you fast, his grip on your wrists unyielding.

"Please," you beg, the word torn from your throat, raw and needy. "Ghost, please..."

You don't even know what you're begging for anymore, too far gone in the haze of lust, desperate for him to set you free, to let you fall. Tears of frustration prick at the corners of your eyes, your entire being focused on the point where you're joined, where he fills you so perfectly, so completely.

Ghost drinks in the sight of you, pleading and desperate beneath him, your tears glistening in the moonlight like precious gems. It takes every ounce of his self-control not to give in to your pleas, to sheath himself to the hilt and let you ride out your climax on his cock.

But he wants more than that for you. More than a fleeting moment of pleasure.

Slowly, torturously, he begins to move again, his hips undulating in a sensual rhythm that builds the tension within you with excruciating slowness. Each roll of his hips grinds against your clit, sends sparks of sensation shooting up your spine, but it's not enough, not nearly enough to push you over the edge.

"That's it, my love," he croons, his voice a seductive purr.

Each deliberate roll of Ghost's hips sends waves of exquisite torture crashing over you, stoking the fires within you to new heights. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, your chest heaving as you struggle to maintain some semblance of control, of coherency.

But it's a losing battle, and you can feel yourself slipping further and further under his spell with each passing second. Your world narrows down to the slide of his skin against yours, the stretch of your walls around his thick length, the coil of pleasure tightening in your belly.

Ghost can feel your surrender, the way your body yields to his touch, to his command. It's a heady feeling, knowing that he wields such power over you, that he can bring you to the very brink of ecstasy and hold you there, suspended in a state of pure, agonizing bliss.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep, claiming you, consuming you. One hand releases your wrists to trail down your side, over the curve of your hip, coming to rest on your thigh. With a gentle pressure, he guides your leg up and over his shoulder, opening you wider, allowing him to sink even deeper into your welcoming heat.

He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing fire down the column of your throat, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin.

A strangled cry tears from your throat as Ghost sinks impossibly deeper, the new angle sending shockwaves of pleasure ricocheting through your core. Your hands scrabble for purchase on his sweat-slicked back, nails raking down his skin, leaving crescent-shaped indents in their wake.

The burn of his teeth on your neck only adds to the maelstrom of sensations, the slight pain blending seamlessly with the overwhelming pleasure until you can no longer tell where one ends and the other begins. Your hips buck wildly, seeking more, craving more of this sweet, sweet torment. "Ghost!" you keen, his name a prayer, a plea, a benediction on your lips. "Oh, fuck, Ghost... Please..."

What you're begging for, you no longer know.

Your desperate cries, the way your body writhes beneath him, the sharp sting of your nails on his skin - it's all driving Ghost closer to the edge. He can feel his own release building, coiling tighter and tighter at the base of his spine, but he grits his teeth, determined to hold off until he's brought you to completion.

With a low growl, he redoubles his efforts, his hips snapping forward with increasing urgency, each thrust striking that spot deep inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. His hand slides between your bodies, finding your clit, circling the sensitive nub with the pad of his thumb, pushing you ever closer to the precipice.

"Let go, my love," he rasps, his breath hot against your ear. "I've got you."

Ghost's words, rough with passion, are the final catalyst you need. With a keening wail, your body bows off the floor, convulsing violently as your orgasm crashes over you in wave after wave of mind-numbing ecstasy. Your inner walls clamp down around Ghost's throbbing cock, rippling and fluttering as they try to milk him dry.

Through the haze of your own pleasure, you can feel him pulsing inside you, his rhythm faltering as he nears his own peak. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him on, wanting to feel him lose control, to watch as he shatters above you.

The sensation of your walls clamping down around him, squeezing him like a velvet vice, is too much for Ghost to withstand. With a hoarse shout of your name, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his hips jerking erratically as he finds his release.

His seed pulses hot and heavy, flooding your already drenched channel, marking you, claiming you as his. He collapses onto you, careful not to crush you with his weight, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he rides out the aftershocks of his climax.

For long moments, neither of you move, both lost in the aftermath of your shared passion. Slowly, Ghost lifts his head, his golden eyes meeting yours, dark with satiation and something else, something deeper, more profound.

Johnny get's turned on when you call him mutt. No I will not elaborate further

I saw something on here about Simon as a Na'vi and now I can't stop thinking about it

I smell something cooking

My favourite artist just liked 141 - Stickers and I'm just 😭😭

I've really made it in life 😭😭😭

It's @littlebit-of-art ❤️😭😭

141 - First Words

So my baby said his first word the other day and mine and my partners reaction was fucking hilarious. Now I can't stop thinking about the 141 reaction to their baby saying Dada for the first time

Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish would cry, like ugly tears type crying. No he does not care about the snot coming out of his nose, his precious baby just said Dada. He was on the floor playing with baby MacTavish during tummy time, you were in the kitchen cleaning up after you and Soap decided to bake Making another baby. Baby MacTavish is a chatter box like their daddy, always babbling and Soap answered back to baby MacTavish's very interesting story. Soap didn't hear it at first, he thought it was babbling nonsense until he heard it again. The simple word Dada and he's picking baby MacTavish up and rushing to the kitchen 

Thay said Dada

Soap holding baby MacTavish up like a prize

Fuck off, you're lying (Your baby was growing up too quickly)

Their first word was Dada

Soap was already crying

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick would be shocked, swears he's going deaf because no way baby Garrick is talking already. Gaz was bouncing baby Garrick on his knee, pulling funny faces to hear their belly laugh, you were on Netflix trying to find a movie to watch. You were both were in your own world before baby Garrick screamed then ever so quietly said Dada, you and Gaz's head snapped towards each other as you stared at each other 

Did they -

I think so

Gaz turning to baby Garrick

Did you say Dada? You can't have, you were born like last week

Babe they're 8 months old now 

Nope. Still a wrinkly baby 

Captain John Price would just smile, like a smug smile that baby Price's first word Dada. Make's him feel like he's the favourite parent Not realising that when baby Price is upset you can use the fact they can only say Dada against him "Sorry baby, they want you :)". Knowing Price's luck, baby Price will say Dada when he's at work. As soon as you hear the words you're on the phone ringing Price, he picks up at the first ring scared something happened. When you tell him what happened you best believe he's dropping everything to come home, doesn't matter if he's in a very important meeting with Laswell. Baby Price said Dada, he must go home at once

Price coming home and runs straight past you

See, I'm the favourite parent 

John Baby... That's not how that works-

Price is ignoring you as he's kissing baby Price's cheeks 

I'm gonna buy you anything you want. Just say Dada again. Please

Simon 'Ghost' Riley also cries. He'll cry silent tears as he holds baby Riley to his chest, years ago he never thought he'd have his own family and now he's here. Witnessing his baby's first words. Ghost, being the excellent father he is, basically forced you to finally go out for girls night knowing you needed time to yourself. Ghost couldn't wait for a night of tummy time, playing and just straight up cuddling while watching Bluey. Baby Riley was laid on their daddy's chest, trying to fight sleep but failing miserably and just before baby Riley fell asleep they said Dada as they clutched to Ghost's shirt.

Did you say Dada

Ghost didn't move realising baby Riley is now asleep

God I never thought I'd love anyone more then I love your mummy

Ghost carefully hugs baby Riley tighter 

But then you came into my life. Best thing to ever happy to me and your mummy  

I really want to write another headcanon for the 141 but I have zero ideas 🥲

Loving Husband pt 5

Olderhusband!Price 🤝 YoungerWife!Reader 🤝 Slight angst

I lowkey kinda made myself cry writing this also writers block sucks ass!!

Cw - slight mention of birth, being cut (not self harm!)

Part 4 Part 6

You and John had been living in your new home for three months now, the excitement of moving and setting up your life together still fresh in your mind.

At six months along, you look and feel like you're ready to pop any day now. The doctors have told you to take it easy, and John has taken this order to heart. You're only allowed to walk, nothing more strenuous than that. It's frustrating, being confined to such a limited range of motion, but John's dedication to your health and the health of your unborn children is unwavering.

It's this selflessness, this love, that makes you fall in love with John all over again. You had no idea when you married him that he would be such a devoted husband and father. But here he is, taking care of you in every way possible, always putting your needs above his own.

Standing beside you, John watched as you carefully moved around the house. The pregnancy glow suited you, highlighting the curves of your body and bringing out the softness in your features. Even when you were irritated by the restrictions placed upon you, he found himself unable to tear his gaze away from you.

There was a time when he thought he'd never find someone who could handle the rigors of his life. Someone who could deal with the constant danger, the long periods of separation, and the stress of being married to a soldier. But then he met you, and everything changed.

Seeing you like this, so vulnerable yet so resilient, made his heart ache. But it also filled him with pride. Pride in knowing that he had chosen well, that he had found someone who loved him despite all his flaws.

As you walked around the house, you couldn't help but notice the way John looked at you. There was something about the way his blue eyes took in every detail of your body that sent a thrill through you. "You're staring darling," you smiled at him as you waddled towards the sofa.

Following you to the couch, John couldn't help but let his gaze wander over your form once more. The sight of you swollen with his children was enough to make his heart race.

"Can't help it, sweetheart," he said with a shrug, sitting down next to you. "You're looking even more beautiful these days."

His hand hovered near your belly, tempted to touch the bump where their babies were growing. But he resisted, instead choosing to content himself with watching the gentle rise and fall of your stomach as you breathed.

"How are our little angels doing today?" He asked softly, his voice filled with paternal concern.

You saw John's restriction when he came to touch your swollen stomach, it made you chuckled honestly. "You can touch my stomach you know" you smiled softly as you grabbed his hands to place on your stomach.

"They're kicking up a storm today" You replied with a smile. "I think they're going to be just like their dad. Always full of energy"

Feeling the subtle movements beneath his palm, John couldn't suppress the swell of emotion that welled up inside him. His kids were alive, thriving, and already causing trouble.

"I'm glad to hear it," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Full of energy is good. Keeps them strong."

He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your stomach before pulling away. The sensation of those tiny kicks against his hand was enough to send shivers down his spine. "Are they going to be as stubborn as their mum?" He teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Your cheeks flushed slightly at his words, but you couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped your lips. "I am not stubborn" you said with a grin as you grabbed his chin to bring him in for a gentle kiss.

Caught off guard by your sudden move, John felt a jolt of desire course through him. The kiss was sweet and tender, making him wish that he could pick you up and carry you to bed, where he could worship every inch of your body. But he knew that wasn't an option right now, so he settled for the kiss. "Mmm..." he hummed against your lips before pulling away. "Still stubborn, I see."

After the kiss, you pulled back with a smirk on your face. "Maybe a bit" You murmured as you pulled him for another kiss.

Caught off guard by your sudden forwardness, John found himself responding to your kiss eagerly. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer into his chest. His hand slid down to cup your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"But I love you anyway," he whispered against your lips before kissing you again.

You pulled back from the kiss with a grin, "you better!" You kissed the tip of his nose before propping your feet up onto the coffee table, "will you massage my feet please, they feel like balloons." You chuckled as you looked at your swollen feet, so swollen you have to wear crocks when you go out now. Fucking crocks.

With a chuckle, John obliged, taking one of your feet into his large, calloused hands. He began to gently massage the arch of your foot, applying pressure to the sensitive spots.

"Gladly, love," he murmured, focusing on the task at hand. Despite the situation, he couldn't help but admire the softness of your skin under his rough palms. "It's hard seeing you like this," *he admitted after a moment, "but I wouldn't trade it for anything else."

You sighed softly as he massaged your feet, feeling the tension leaving them as he worked on each toe individually. "Just thinking of the 3 beautiful children we'll have" you replied softly as you closed your eyes enjoying the massage.

Continuing to work on your feet, John couldn't help but marvel at the changes that pregnancy had brought about in you. Your body now rounded and lush, carrying the fruit of their love. "It's strange," he mused aloud, "how something as miraculous as childbirth can also be so terrifying."

As he massaged your feet, you closed your eyes letting out a sigh of relief. "You're telling me," you said with a small laugh. "You're not the one that will have to push them out....or get cut open to get them out" you couldn't help but laugh slightly again as John began messaging your other foot.

At your laughter, John's own chuckle rumbled deep within his chest. He couldn't deny there was some truth to what you were saying. "But don't forget who will be there by your side when it happens," he reminded you, switching to massage your other foot. "Who will hold your hand and tell you everything will be alright." His fingers traced over the sole of your foot, finding all the tender spots until they reached your toes.

You let out a contented sigh as he continued to massage your feet. "That reminds me. I have a midwife appointment tomorrow for a check-up, I can't remember if you're on base or not tomorrow." You asked with a smile as you wiggled your toes.

Hearing about the appointment, John's expression softened. He loved these moments, listening to the heartbeat of their unborn children. It was almost magical, in its way.

"I'll be there," he assured you, his tone firm yet gentle. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." His fingers continued to work on your toes, giving them a gentle squeeze before moving back up towards your heel.

You smile at his answer, feeling happy knowing he would be there with you. "Good," you say, "I'd hate to go without you." You smiled lightly as he moves to your other foot, the massage feeling amazing, and you find yourself sinking deeper into the couch.

Once John finishes massaging your feet, he parts your thighs slightly so he can kneel in between them. He gently places his hands on your swollen belly and rests his forehead on your stomach. He lets out a soft sigh, one sign that something is wrong.

"I know you John. What's wrong?"

"This job," he begins, his voice low and thick with worry. "I'm going to miss so much, I might miss their first steps, their first laugh, their first words…" John always acts strong, he has to being a Captain, but you know him. You know him better than himself.

"I knew what I was getting myself into when I married you," you say, your voice firm but laced with love. You cup his cheeks with your hands so John would look up at you. "Our children won't mind anyway. You want to know why?"

He lifted his gaze to meet yours, his blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears. The vulnerability in those eyes only made you love him more. "Why?" he echoed, a hint of curiosity mixed with a heavy dose of scepticism in his voice.

"Because," you continue, your voice softening, "they will know that their daddy is a hero. They will know that he's out there fighting for the world, fighting for their future. They will be proud."

John nodded slowly, his grip tightening on your hips as he took in your words. There was a part of him that wanted to believe you, to take comfort in the thought that their children would understand. "And what about you?" he asked quietly, "How will you explain it to them? How will you tell them that their father wasn't there because he chose to be away?" Even though he knew it was a rhetorical question, he needed to hear your response.

You place a finger on his lips silencing him momentarily. "I'll tell them the same thing," you say, "that their daddy is a hero. That he fights for people he doesn't even know. And that while he does that, he thinks of us. Always."

"You're my hero John. I've never doubted that. And our kids won't either."

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes as he savoured the warmth of your finger against his lips. In that moment, he felt like the luckiest man alive – to have found someone like you, who could see past the uniform and the rank.

"Damn, I love you," he murmured against your skin, his voice barely above a whisper. "More than anything else in this world." He then placed a gentle kiss on your belly, his affection for the three little lives growing inside you evident in every movement he made.

Your heart swells with love for John as he whispers his love for you. You reach down and run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to your body. "And I love you, more than anything else in this world too."

You kiss the top of his head, inhaling his scent. You are both silent for a moment, just enjoying each other's company.

The weight of your love pressed down on him, grounding him in a way nothing else could. His arms tightened around your waist, holding onto you as if you were the last piece of sanity in an otherwise chaotic world.

He looked up at you, his blue eyes shining with a mix of love and admiration. "You know, I sometimes wonder if I deserve you." There was a hint of self-doubt in his voice, something he rarely showed, especially not to you.

You tilt your head, looking down at John with a small smile playing on your lips. "Why would you ever think that?" You ask, genuinely confused.

He shrugged, his brow furrowed in thought. "I mean, here I am, off fighting wars, missing milestones, while you're here carrying our children, preparing for their arrival..." His voice trailed off, as if he was unsure whether he should finish what he started. But the truth was, he had plenty of reasons to doubt himself.

"It's not fair to you," he finally said, his voice low and sincere. "You deserve better than a husband who's always away. A husband who can't give you what you need..."

You gently grabbed John's cheeks to look at you. "Don't," you whispered, your thumb stroking his cheek. "Don't say that."

He sighed softly, leaning into your touch as if seeking comfort from your hand. He closed his eyes briefly, savouring the sensation of your thumb against his skin.

"Don't what?" he asked, opening his eyes to meet yours again. "Tell the truth? Because it's the truth, sweetheart. You deserve a husband who can stay home, who can be there for you and the babies..."

As your trembling voice whispered, "Shh," silence enveloped you. Your breath hitched, tears threatening to cascade down your cheeks. "I want you, John."

John's glassy eyes held a mixture of pain and longing. "You deserve better," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

"No," you protested, your voice a feeble plea. "I don't want better. I have you." Warm tears escaped, trailing down your face. "You're not just my husband. You're my best friend, my lover, my partner...my everything."

He watched as the tears rolled down your cheeks, and his heart clenched painfully in his chest. He didn't want to cause you pain, but he also couldn't deny the truth.

"But I'm not there for you, sweetheart," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Not like I should be..."

You shook your head, wiping away the tears with the back of your hand. "You're here now," you said softly, reaching down to cup his face in your hands. "That's all that matters."

He let out a shaky breath, feeling the warmth of your hands on his face. He gazed up at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of deception. "I don't want to hurt you," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion* "But I can't help but feel like I'm failing you. Failing our family..."

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his. "Stop it, John. Please," you whispered. "You're not failing me. Failing us."

He exhaled deeply, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging within him. The weight of his duty was heavy, but the love he felt for you and the unborn children was heavier still. "Sometimes I wish..." his voice trailed off, the words dying on his lips before they could fully form.

He hesitated, clearly struggling with his thoughts. After a long pause, he continued. "Sometimes I wish I could leave it all behind - the war, the danger, the constant uncertainty. Just so I could focus on building a life with you, raising our children together..."

His gaze drifted over your features, committing every detail to memory. The way the light danced in your eyes, the curve of your lips, the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips...

"But that's not reality, is it?" he asked, his tone tinged with resignation. "Reality is me being called away, leaving you to handle things on your own...again."

You grab his hand, pressing it against your stomach. "But it will be in the future," you say, your voice firm. "When you retire. We'll be together finally, you can chase our children around the garden, spoil them rotten. Finally treat yourself to that bike you've always wanted." You chuckle, the sound light and carefree.

John's eyes flicker to your face, a ghost of a smile forming.

"But not yet dear," you continue, cupping his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. "You're not done saving the world, you're not done being the hero everyone needs."

His face softens, his gaze melting into yours. The weight of the world is there in his eyes, but so is love, a deep and unwavering love that knows no bounds. You know he's fighting a battle, a war within himself, but you also know that he'll choose you, always. He will come back to you, your haven, your love. He will come home.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he listened to you speak, your words washing over him like a soothing balm. He knew you were right - he wasn't ready to retire just yet. There was still work to be done, lives to save, threats to neutralize.

"You're right," he conceded, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not done yet. Not by a long shot." He paused, swallowing hard past the lump in his throat. "But I promise you this, sweetheart - when the time comes, I'll be here. For you, for our family. Always." He sealed his vow with a tender kiss, pouring all his love and devotion into the simple gesture. "I love you more than anything in this world. Never forget that."

Nurse!Reader x 141 and stickers

How I think the 141 would act if Nurse!Reader gives out stickers to all the soldiers they patch up on base: This is my first headcanon

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish absolutely fucking loves the stickers, like he's lowkey obsessed with getting one. His sketchbook is covered in the stickers you give him and if there's no more room for the stickers that's okay. He'll just buy a new one. Lowkey gets pouty and sassy if you forget to give him a sticker after patching him up.

And we are done. Good as new 

Soap wait's patiently with his hand stuck out 

What are you waiting for Soap?

Fur mah sticker. Obviously

Oh shit. Sorry, I forgot

Whit dae ye mean ye forgot? dae ye nae care aboot me anymair

Grow up you drama Queen

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick Is a bit like Soap in a way he loves the stickers. They make him happy in this fuck up world, when he get's his sticker for being a brave boy, as you say, he wears the sticker all day as a badge of honour but if he looses the stickers randomly in the day he gets kinda pouty when he asks for another one 

Can I have another sticker please?

Did you loose yours already?

I didn't mean too! I think Soap stole mine. Pretty please can I have another one

You know the rules. Unless you're injured I'm not giving you a stickers

Cue puppy dog eyes

Goddamit Kyle. Fine, here's your sticker but don't loose it

Captain John Price felt a bit silly at first when you gave him a sticker. He's grown man, he doesn't need a sticker for getting patched up but he very quickly grew to love receiving a sticker off you. He asked if you'd tare the paper the sticker is on, they're easier to save then. He doesn't stick them anywhere but has a small box in his office where he stashes them. For safe keeping.

Why don't you wear the stickers?

Because it ruins them

Ruins them?

Yeah. I like to hold onto them

Do you stick them anywhere?

Nope. I have a small box specifically for the stickers you give me 

Simon 'Ghost' Riley thought the stickers were a stupid idea, he's a grown ass man. Why would he want a sticker for getting patched up? He isn't a child. That's what he tells you but secretly he adores them. He'll moan and grumble as you slap one onto his chest but the moment he's in his room, Ghost will carefully peel it off his shirt and stick it in a scrapbook. Once got a little upset you didn't give him a sticker, he left the infirmary pretending he didn't care but 1 hour later he came back

Why didn't you give me a sticker?

Because you don't like them. You said they were stupid

Well. That's because they are. M'not a child

Then why are you asking why I didn't give you a sticker?

Ghost quietly grumbling and sticking his hand out

Can I just have my sticker please 

I already have a few WIP already...... But I wanna write something for Nikolai I love him

Like maybe Reader falls out of the helicopter like Gaz did in MWII 👀

I feel like a hug off Nikolai would make me feel better

I mean, look at his chest. Just wanna squish my face in his man tits

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.

Beautiful

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x Fem!Mermaid reader

Big thanks too @brokenpieces-72 and @all-purpose-dish-soap for the plot idea!! love you 🫶

I really really hope I've done Kyle justice here 😩

The icy water clawed at Kyle's skin, the pressure in his ears a dull throb. Panic flared in his chest, a cold, sharp spike. His oxygen gauge flickered, a mocking red, and his lungs burned. He'd been reckless, pushing too far, and now his tank was failing. He was going to die here, alone, in the depths of this frigid, unforgiving sea. Then, strong arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him upward. He felt a surge of relief, a desperate hope, but his vision blurred, his body heavy. He couldn't see who was helping him, only felt the powerful, rhythmic strokes pulling him towards the surface.

He woke to the harsh sunlight and the familiar faces of Task Force 141. The relief was overwhelming, but it was quickly followed by confusion. He remembered the panic, the darkness, and then... someone had saved him. But who?

Kyle, still shaky, shook his head. "No, I... I don't know what happened. I felt someone pull me up."

"You alright, Gaz?" Johnny's voice was gruff, concern etched on his face. "You were out cold for a good five minutes. Thought you'd gone and met Nessie down there."

The others exchanged glances. "You sure you didn't just black out and think you were saved?" John asked, his tone sceptical.

Kyle frowned. "No, I'm telling you, someone was there. I felt their arms around me."

The incident became a running joke amongst the team, with Johnny constantly teasing Kyle about 'meeting Nessie.' But Kyle couldn't shake the feeling of truth in his memory. He had to know who saved him.

Weeks later, driven by a need for answers, Kyle returned to the mission site. He rented a small boat and spent hours scanning the water, the memory of the strong arms pulling him up vivid in his mind. Then, he saw it. A flash of emerald green, a tail shimmering in the sunlight.

A mermaid.

You swim gracefully through the crystal clear waters, your emerald tail propelling you effortlessly through the waves. your long, wavy hair cascades behind you like a waterfall, reflecting the sun's rays as you moves. You pauses when you spot something floating on the surface.

A boat? 

Curiosity piqued, you surface, your eyes widening at the sight of a human. That human. The one you saved.

As the figure surfaced, Kyle's heart skipped a beat. It was her, the mysterious saviour from his near-death experience. You were real, not some delusion or hallucination brought on by oxygen deprivation. You were stunningly beautiful, your hair flowing like a river of molten gold in the sunlight, your eyes a captivating blend of gold and red that held an air of mystery. You were different, unique, unlike anyone he'd ever seen before. And you'd saved his life.

You quickly dove back down into the water. He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't have come looking for you. It was stupid really. Reckless. You should of left him to his fate...but you couldn't. You couldn't watch an innocent human die.

Kyle watched as the enigmatic figure dived back beneath the waves, leaving him with more questions than answers. Despite the brief encounter, he knew he wouldn't forget you any time soon. Your actions spoke volumes about your character, and your beauty captivated him in a way no other woman had. There was something undeniably intriguing about you, a sense of mystery that made him want to learn more.

He found himself returning to the same spot over and over again, drawn to the memory of the mermaid who'd saved his life. Each visit filled him with a strange longing, a desire to see you again, to thank you properly for saving his life. He began to bring offerings, seashells and starfish, anything he thought might catch your attention.

You can feel his presence every time he comes. Its annoying really. He doesn't belong here. This is your home, your sanctuary. Why does he keep coming? To see you? No. He wants something else. Something more. He wants answers. Answers to questions you cannot give. You're not supposed to exist. Not anymore anyway. But you do...and you can't let him find out. You can't let him expose you.

One day, as he tossed a handful of sweet treats onto the water's surface, he swore he saw a flicker of movement beneath the waves. Was it her? Had she returned? He stayed longer than usual, waiting, hoping for another glimpse of the mysterious mermaid.

He waited for you, patiently watching the horizon until the sky turned dark. He knew you were there, hiding in the shadows, observing him. He knew you didn't want him there, but he also knew you hadn't stopped him yet. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever came next.

"I know you're there," he called out, his voice echoing across the empty sea. "Please, I just want to talk. I won't tell anyone about you. I promise."

You listen to his words. You don't trust them. Humans lie all the time. They lie to protect themselves. They lie to get what they want. But you need to hear him out. You need to understand why he keeps coming here. He's persistent isn't he? Maybe that's something you admire? Or maybe its infuriating? Either way, you decide to show yourself. Just enough so he knows its you. Your eyes meet his as you break the surface of the water.

When the mysterious figure finally emerged from the depths, Kyle's heart pounded in his chest. It was her, the mermaid who'd saved his life. Their eyes locked, yours filled with a mix of curiosity and caution, while his were filled with gratitude and admiration.

"Thank you," he said quietly, his voice barely audible above the sound of the waves crashing against the boat. "For saving me."

You watch him. Watch his face for any signs of deception. None are shown. You swims closer to the boat, your movements graceful and fluid. Your close now. Close enough to touch if you wanted to. You reach out a hand, touching the side of the boat gently. A sign of acceptance maybe? An olive branch? Or just another test? Only time will tell.

He watched, entranced, as the mermaid swam closer to the boat. He could almost reach out and touch you, if only he dared. When you touched the side of the boat, he felt a surge of hope. Could it be that you were willing to communicate?

"I'm Kyle," he introduced himself, extending a hand towards you.

You watch his hand move through the water towards you. You takes it hesitantly, your grip firm yet gentle. You pull yourself closer to the boat, your body breaking the surface of the water. Your upper body is exposed now. You looks up at him, your eyes questioning as you introduced yourself.

Kyle heart raced as you pulled yourself closer to the boat, your body breaking the surface of the water. He was face-to-face with a mermaid, and you were even more breath taking than he'd imagined.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," he said, his voice trembling slightly from excitement. "I owe you my life." You hold his gaze, your eyes intense. You pull yourself further onto the boat, your lower half still submerged in the water. Your upper body is bare, your skin glistening with water droplets. You look at him curiously, taking in his features with equal intensity.

"Why do you keep coming back?" you asks, your voice soft yet steady.

Kyle swallowed hard as you pulled yourself fully onto the boat, your lower half still hidden beneath the water. His eyes traced the lines of your body, taking in your bare skin glistening with water droplets. You were even more beautiful up close.

"To see you," he admitted honestly, meeting your gaze. "To thank you properly for saving my life."

Your eyes narrow slightly as you process his answer. You take a moment to study him. To analyse his facial expressions, his tone of voice. Is he lying? Does he truly just want to thank you? Or is there something more? You can't read humans very well. They're too complex.

He met your gaze head-on, unflinching under your scrutiny. He understood your scepticism; after all, he would likely feel the same in your position. But his intentions were pure - he simply wanted to express his gratitude.

"If it helps," he offered, "I've brought you gifts." He gestured towards some sweet treats beside him.

You look at this gifts he brought you. Gifts? From a human? "What are they?" You questioned. Your gaze never leaving the gifts, you've never seen anything like them before. They look...spongy and pretty? He pointed out each item one by one - the fluffy, sweet-smelling muffins, and the rich, decadent chocolate cake. He hoped these would help bridge the gap between their two worlds.

"They're called muffins and cake," he explained. "They're sweet and delicious. Would you like to try one?" His question hung in the air, a silent plea for acceptance. You look at him sceptically and then back at the gifts. Muffins and cake? What a strange name, and you can eat them? You looked back at Kyle, your curiosity got the better of you. 

"Please" 

Kyle's heart swelled with delight when you agreed to try the food. He carefully picked up a muffin and held it out to you. "Here you go," he said, his voice filled with anticipation. "It's called a blueberry muffin." As he spoke, he couldn't help but marvel at how surreal this situation was. Here he was, on a boat in the middle of the ocean, offering cake to a mermaid.

You watch as he holds out the muffin to you. The gesture is kind and gentle, and you find yourself drawn to it. You reach out slowly, your fingers brushing against his as you take the muffin. Your touch is light, hesitant. You bring the muffin to your lips and takes a bite.

Your eyes widen in surprise as the flavours burst in your mouth. Sweetness, tanginess, a hint of crunchiness. It's overwhelming and amazing all at once. You chew slowly, savouring every bit before swallowing. Kyle watched as you took the muffin from his hands, his heart pounded in his chest as he waited for your reaction. When your eyes widened and you began to chew, he let out a sigh of relief. She liked it!

After finishing off the muffin, you look over at the..... Cake? Your eyes wide with curiosity. You reach out and pick up a piece of the cake, holding it up to inspect it. It's dark and moist looking, and smells divine. You bring the piece to your lips and takes a bite.

The taste is unlike anything you've ever experienced. Rich, sweet, and smooth. It melts in your mouth and leaves you wanting more. You place it on the boat before you hoist yourself up and sit on the edge of the boat, you fin swaying lazily in the water as you picked the cake back up.

Kyle watched in awe as you eagerly devoured the cake, your eyes lighting up with each bite. He couldn't help but smile widely, feeling a sense of satisfaction knowing that he had managed to share something new with you. "That's chocolate cake," he told you, pointing at the remaining piece. He leaned back against the boat, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere and the company of this intriguing creature.

You continue to eat the cake, savouring each bite. You look up at Kyle, studying him. There's something about him that's different from other humans you've encountered. He seems genuine, honest. Any regrets you had saving him were now gone.

He noticed the change in your demeanour. Your earlier suspicion seemed to have faded away, replaced by an almost friendly curiosity. He felt relieved. "I should probably start heading back soon," he mentioned, standing up and picking up the empty food wrappers. "But I'd love to come visit again sometime."

His words were sincere; he genuinely enjoyed spending time with you and wanted to get to know you better. You look at him as he stands up, and you notice his form is tall and lean. He moves with an ease that you admire. As he picks up the wrappers, you gently lower yourself back into the water. "Tomorrow?" You ask softly, your voice echoing the sincerity in your eyes.

Kyle was taken aback by your question. Tomorrow? He hadn't expected you to invite him back so soon. But the thought of seeing you again, sooner rather than later, filled him with excitement.

"I'd like that," he replied, a warm smile spreading across his face. "See you tomorrow then." With a final wave, he started the boat and drove it back to shore, leaving a trail of bubbles behind.

You watch as he drives the boat back to shore, your eyes following the trail of bubbles until they disappear completely. A small smile graces your lips as you dip back under the water, the surface reflecting the moon above.

Back on land, Kyle couldn't stop thinking about his encounter with you. His heart swelled with warmth as he replayed the events of the day in his mind. He found himself looking forward to tomorrow with eager anticipation.

The next evening, he arrived at the same spot as yesterday. He was excited to see you again, and brought more treats with him.

Kyle waited patiently, scanning the water's surface for any sign of you. After what felt like an eternity, there was a splash and you emerged from the depths, your wet hair slicked back and clinging to your skin. You swim towards him, a big smile on your face. When you reach him, you climb onto the boat and sat on the edge, dripping water everywhere. You look at the food he brought. For you.

Kyle's heart fluttered as you emerged from the water, your smile as radiant as ever. "Hey there," he greeted you, handing you the food. "I brought some more treats for you." You accept the food from him, your hand brushing against his. You take the food and begin eating it, savouring every bite just like you did yesterday. You glance up at him occasionally, a soft smile on your face.

He watched as you ate the food he'd brought, noting the soft smile that graced your lips when you looked at him. He felt a strange warmth spread through him, a sensation he'd never really experienced before. "Would you... like to go for a ride on the boat?" He asked, trying to keep his nervousness in check.

You tilt your head, your nose scrunched up in concentration. "How about we race instead?" You suggests, your voice lilting. "See what's faster. Me or the boat."

Kyle laughed, the sound echoing across the water. He loved your playful spirit. "A race it is," he agreed, starting the engine and adjusting the throttle. "But fair warning, I'm pretty competitive." With that, he revved the engine and waited for you to signal the start of the race. "So am I" you giggle as you dive into the water, disappearing beneath the waves before coming back up. "First one to that buoy over there wins." Kyle watched as you dove into the water, your movements graceful and fluid. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he waited for you to resurface.

"On your mark..." he called out, his gaze locked on the buoy. "Get set... GO!"

Without hesitation, he gunned the engine, sending the boat speeding through the water. The wind rushed past him, carrying with it the scent of the sea and the thrill of competition. As Kyle sped off, it caught you off guard, but you quickly caught up to him, your sleek tail easily keeping pace with the boat. You swam alongside Kyle, teasing him with your speed and agility. You laughed and disappeared beneath the waves, using your powerful tail to propel yourself through the water. You knew you had the advantage in this race, but you couldn't resist the opportunity to show off your skills to Kyle.

His heart pounded in his chest as he raced through the water, the wind rushing past him. He could see you right beside him, your speed and agility a testament to your nature. Just as he thought he might catch up to you, you would suddenly disappear, only to reappear further ahead. You were fast, incredibly fast. But Kyle wasn't one to give up easily. With renewed determination, he pushed the boat harder, matching your speed stroke for stroke.

You continue to tease Kyle, showing off your speed and agility. Your laughter echoes through the water as you dart in and out of his path. You enjoy watching him try to keep up with you. You flicked your tail to splash him, hoping to catch him off before you sped off again.

Kyle felt a rush of cold water as you splashed him, your laughter echoing in his ears. He could see the teasing glint in your eye as you darted away, your tail flicking playfully.

'She's enjoying this too much,' he thought, his determination growing stronger. He pressed the throttle even further, the boat responding eagerly. You continue to tease him, your laughter filling the air as you dodge his attempts to catch you. You love the way his face scrunches up in concentration, the determination in his eyes. You flick your tail to splash him again before darting off once more.

He let out a hearty laugh as the cold water splashed him again, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the power of the boat beneath him, its response to his command. 'She's got spirit,' he thought again, admiring your tenacity. As you darted away once more, he pursued you, determined to win this race.

You continued to lead him on, your laughter ringing out across the water. You enjoyed the thrill of the chase, the challenge of staying ahead. You flicked your tail to send another wave of water crashing over him before darting off again towards the buoy. You were close. So close. Kyle doesn't have a chance.

You see Kyle closing in on you, his determination clear. You decide to make one last dash for the buoy. You push yourself to your limits, your muscles straining as you use your powerful tail to propel yourself forward. You reach the buoy first, a triumphant grin on your face.

Kyle saw you pull ahead, your speed and agility leaving him in awe. As they neared the buoy, he gave it one last shot, propelling the boat forward with all his strength. He reached the buoy mere seconds after you, you brought your fin up out of the water and nudge him lightly, a playful smirk on your face. "Told you I was faster." You say, your laughter filling the air again.

He smiled, his heart still pounding in his chest. He could feel the salty spray of the ocean on his skin, the exhilaration of the race still fresh in his mind. "You were faster this time," he admitted, meeting your gaze with a playful smirk of his own. "But next time, I'll beat you." His words hung in the air between them, a promise of future races and the camaraderie that came with them.

You giggle, your eyes shining with mirth and satisfaction. You lean against the side of the boat, catching your breath from the race. "Oh will you now?" You say, your voice light and teasing.

Kyle nodded, his smile widening. His competitive spirit was already stirring, ready for the next challenge. "Oh yes," he said confidently, "I always keep my promises." His gaze lingered on you, appreciating your strength and resilience. You were a force to be reckoned with, and he couldn't wait to see what other adventures they'd share together.

You wink at Kyle, your eyes twinkling with mischief. You're not sure if you believe his claim, but you're looking forward to seeing if he can prove it. You stretch lazily, your muscles still tingling from the race. "I'm always up for a good challenge," he said, his gaze never leaving yours. "And if it means spending more time with you, then I wouldn't miss it for the world." His words were sincere, a testament to the bond they shared. Despite their differences, they understood each other, respected each other. And for that, Kyle was grateful.

You meet his gaze, your own eyes reflecting the same sense of camaraderie and trust. You understand his competitive spirit, his desire to test his limits. You respect him for it. "Good," you say simply, "because I like a good challenge too."

"Then it's a deal," he said, extending his hand for a shake. "To future races and adventures." As their hands met, the bond between them strengthened. They were partners in this journey, allies in a world where survival was often a game of wit and skill.

You take Kyle's hand, feeling the firmness of his grip. You squeeze gently, your eyes locked onto his. This is more than just a race or an adventure; it's a partnership, a bond forged in the depths of the ocean. "It's a deal," *you say, your voice steady and resolute. As you gaze at his hand clasped in yours, a sudden surge of alarm courses through you. A crimson stain blooms on his skin, seeping through the cracks in his weathered hand.

"Kyle, you're bleeding!" You exclaim, your voice a mixture of concern and urgency. The words dance across the surface of the water, creating tiny ripples that break the otherwise still surface.

He looked down to see a cut on his palm, blood trickling down his fingers. "Damn," he muttered, wincing slightly. "Must have caught it on something when we were racing." He glanced at you, a sheepish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Guess I'm not as invincible as I thought."

"Obviously," *you couldn't help but chuckle. You held your hand out. "Give me your hand." Your voice was firm, leaving no room for arguments. When Kyle didn't give you his hand, insisting that he was fine, you gently grabbed his wrist and brought his hand up to your lips but paused. You were about to do something that might seem a little...unconventional, to put it mildly.

"This is going to seem weird...and disgusting," you warned him, your voice softer now, almost apologetic. He looked at you, confusion etched on his face. You licked your lips, the saltiness of the ocean water leaving a metallic taste on your tongue. Then, you did it. You licked the palm of his hand, your tongue tracing the gash, the blood mingling with the salt.

Kyle watched, mesmerized, as you licked the wound on his hand. He felt a strange mix of discomfort and fascination, the sight both gross and oddly alluring. "What...the hell..." he muttered, though there was no real annoyance in his tone. He'd seen stranger things in his life, after all. Still, the sensation of your tongue against his skin sent a shiver down his spine. It wasn't unpleasant, but it definitely wasn't normal either.

He watched, transfixed, as you lapped at the cut on his hand. He could feel the coolness of the sea water mixed with the heat of your breath, the wetness of your tongue against his skin. It was an odd sensation, but not entirely unpleasant. "Damn," he breathed out, his voice low and rough. "That's...that's some crazy shit right there." But even as he spoke, he found himself leaning into the sensation, his body responding despite his mind trying to process the strangeness of it all.

You pull away from his hand, watching as the cut closes before your very eyes. The edges of the wound fuse together, sealing shut without so much as a scar. Your saliva does its job, healing the small injury instantly. "There," you softly say, feeling satisfied. "All better." You look up at Kyle, meeting his gaze. Your eyes glint with a knowing smile, a silent acknowledgment of the bizarre yet effective method of first aid you just employed.

Kyle stared at his healed hand, disbelief washing over him. He'd expected a few stitches, maybe a band-aid at most, but not this. Not a lick of his hand by a mermaid. "That's...fuckin' amazing," he said, shaking his head in awe. "I mean, I've seen some shit in my time, but this takes the cake." He lifted his hand to inspect it again, running his thumb over the smooth skin where moments ago had been a gaping cut. His mind raced, trying to comprehend how something so simple could have such profound results. "And here I thought you were just a pretty face," he added, flashing you a teasing grin.

A laugh bubbles up from deep within you, echoing around the two of you in the vast ocean. It's a sound that's as unexpected as it is infectious, causing Kyle to join in, his hearty laughter mixing with yours.

"Pretty face?" You echo, rolling your eyes playfully. "Oh, please. Don't flatter yourself." 

You poke him lightly in the chest, your fingertips pressing against his skin. The contact sends a spark of electricity coursing through you, reminding you of the connection between you and Kyle. "But I suppose there's more to you than meets the eye too," you add, giving him a sly smirk as you splashed some water on him with you tail.

He chuckled, enjoying the banter between the two of them. He leaned back in the boat, his arms folded behind his head as he watched the waves crash against the hull. The salty air filled his lungs, a stark contrast to the thick smoke and grime of his usual environment.

"You know what they say about judging books by their covers," he quipped, shooting you a playful wink. His attention shifted momentarily to the horizon, his mind wandering to the events of the day. From the adrenaline-fueled race to the peculiar healing technique, today had been anything but ordinary.

You lean against the boat, your head resting on the side as you watch the sun dip below the horizon. The sky puts on a show, painting the heavens in hues of pink, orange, and purple. "It's beautiful," you murmur, your voice barely audible above the gentle lapping of the waves against the hull of the boat. You turn to Kyle, a soft smile playing on your lips. "Wanna see another cool trick?"

Kyle turned to face you, his curiosity piqued. He'd seen plenty of sunsets in his lifetime, but none quite like this one. The colours seemed brighter, more vibrant, as if the world itself was putting on a show just for them. "Another trick, huh?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm intrigued. What ya got?"

He leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows as he looked at you. There was a certain allure to you, a mystery that drew him in. You were unlike anyone he'd ever met, and he found himself wanting to know more about you.

You pat the side of the boat invitingly, a teasing smirk on your lips as your tail swishes behind you. "You've got to come in the water," you say, your voice a melody carried by the salty breeze. "Unless you're scared," you add, sending a playful splash of water towards him.

Kyle laughed, the sound rich and genuine. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had this much fun, or been around someone who could make him forget about everything else for a moment. "Nah, I ain't scared," he said, pushing himself off the boat and stepping closer to the edge. "Just don't want to get my good clothes wet," he joked, looking down at his jeans and t-shirt.

You giggle at his comment, the sound light and carefree. Your eyes sparkle with mischief as you hover near the edge, waiting for Kyle to take the plunge. "Well then, tough luck," you tease, flicking a droplet of water at him. "Just take your clothes off."

Kyle rolled his eyes, a chuckle escaping his lips. He stripped off his clothing, leaving him in nothing but his boxer shorts. The cool air sent a shiver down his spine, but he ignored it, focusing instead on the anticipation building within him. "Alright, alright," he said, holding his hands up in surrender. "I'm coming in. Just don't laugh when I start swimming like a brick, okay?" With that, he took a deep breath and plunged into the water, disappearing beneath the surface.

As he resurfaced, he blinked rapidly, adjusting his eyes to the dimmer light. He shook his head, sending droplets of water flying in all directions. "Fuck, that's cold!" he exclaimed, his teeth chattering slightly.

You burst out laughing at Kyle's exclamation, the sound echoing around the both of you. You swim closer to him, your tail flicking playfully. "Cold? For you, maybe," you tease, your voice muffled by the water. "But I'm used to it." You swim up to him, so close your noses are nearly touching. "Close your eyes," you murmur, your voice softer now.

Gaz hesitates for a moment, then obeys, shutting his eyes tight. You gently cup his cheeks, your cool hands a contrast to the warmth of his skin. He smells of salt and seaweed, a familiar scent of the ocean. You lean in and kiss him, your lips meeting with a soft, damp touch. You feel the surprise, then the wonder, as his breath catches in his throat. You don't linger, but with a swift movement, you submerge you both under the water.

Kyle felt a rush of something unfamiliar as your lips pressed against his. His eyes were squeezed shut, his senses heightened by the unusual situation. He felt the chill of the water envelop him completely as you pulled him under, the sensation of being submerged sending a jolt of fear through him.

But as quickly as it came, the fear faded, replaced by a sense of calm. He could breathe! It was strange, almost magical, feeling the oxygen fill his lungs without having to break the surface. He opened his eyes, blinking away the stinging saltwater, and saw you before him, your body glowing in the dim light.

You were beautiful, even under the water. Your hair fanned out around you, swirling like tendrils of silk. Your eyes glowed with mischief and joy, reflecting the light from above.

You pull back slowly, watching Kyle's reaction closely. A grin spreads across your face, seeing the awe in his eyes. You reach out, taking his hand in yours, leading him deeper into the water.

Kyle allowed himself to be led, his grip on your hand firm yet gentle. He moved through the water with a grace he hadn't known he possessed, the weightlessness allowing him to move with ease.

He glanced around, taking in the beauty of the underwater world. Fish darted past, their scales shimmering in the light filtering down from above. Corals waved gently, their colours vibrant and alive. The world around them became a blur of colour and movement, but only your presence remained constant. He felt a strange warmth spreading through him, not from the water, but from within. The sensation was overwhelming, intoxicating. It made him forget about the war, about the bloodshed, about the pain. All he cared about was the moment, this singular moment shared with you.

You lead Kyle further into the depths, the world around you growing darker and more mysterious. The pressure increases, adding an element of danger to your adventure. But you're undeterred, pulling him along with a determined look in your eyes.

Eventually, you stop, turning to face him. You place your hands on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. Your own heartbeat quickens, matching his rhythm. You lean in, pressing your forehead against his. In this moment, there's no need for words. Everything is understood between you, communicated through touch and glance. It's a silent promise, a vow sealed under the sea.

Kyle let you guide him, entrusting himself fully to you. As the pressure increased, he felt a thrill run through him, a mix of excitement and apprehension. But he wasn't afraid. Not with you. When they stopped, he looked into your eyes, seeing a depth there he hadn't noticed before. A kind of longing, perhaps? Or was it hope?

His heart pounded in his chest as you placed your hands on him, feeling the wild rhythm of his heart match yours. When you leaned in, pressing your forehead against his, he closed his eyes, savouring the moment. He held you tightly, not wanting to let go.

Your bodies are pressed close together, the slight friction creating a spark of electricity between you. Without warning, you pull back, grabbing his hand once again. You begin to swim upwards, towards the light. Your movements are graceful, powerful, guiding Kyle effortlessly towards the surface.

As they neared the surface, Kyle began to feel the urge to breathe. His lungs burned, craving air. But he waited, holding his breath, trusting you to bring them safely back to the world above. And then, suddenly, they broke through the surface. He gasped, sucking in a lungful of sweet, fresh air. He looked at you, gratitude and admiration shining in his eyes.

You emerge from the water, your body slick with wetness. You turn to Kyle, a triumphant smile on your face. "Pretty cool right?" He nodded, still trying to catch his breath. He looked at you, your body glistening in the moonlight, and he had to admit, it was pretty damn cool. "Unreal," he finally managed to say. He reached out, running his fingers through your wet hair. "I've never... I didn't know..." He shook his head, unable to find the right words.

Kyle moved closer, closing the gap between them. He reached out, tracing a finger down your arm, feeling the smooth skin beneath his touch. He leaned in, his lips hovering just inches from yours. He could taste the saltiness of the ocean on your lips, mixed with your unique flavour. It was intoxicating, making him want more. Before he could second guess himself, he kissed you. His lips pressed against yours, soft and seeking. The kiss was hungry, desperate, a reflection of the emotions swirling inside him.

Feeling Kyle's lips on yours sends a jolt through your system, lighting up every nerve ending. You respond eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. Your tongue slips past his lips, exploring the warm cavern of his mouth. You can taste the salt on his skin, mingling with the sweetness of his breath. It's a heady combination, one that makes you dizzy with desire. Breaking the kiss, you pull back slightly, looking into Kyle's eyes. There's a hunger there, a need that mirrors your own. And it's a need that you're more than willing to satisfy.

You lean in again, kissing him deeply, losing yourself in the moment.