âSweetheartâ you hear Simonâs soft voice. You let out a little groan. âMmmmnnnnhâ Simon chuckles and you feel the mattress dip with his weight. âWakey wakey, Princess, I have a present for you.â You open one eye to look at him. He is leaning over you, smiling. âGood morningâ. You let out another small groan, mornings were never your thing.Â
Ghost leans back, reaching behind him. âDo you want your present?â You turn your head and open your other eye. He just laughs, youâre so cute and grumpy in the mornings. âIâll take that as a yes.â When his hand comes back into view he is holding a drink from your favorite cafe. You smile, turning and sitting up to take a drink. The flavors hit your tongue and you let out a happy hum, doing a little wiggle.Â
Ghost smiles as he watches you. âYou want the rest of your present?âÂ
You nod, already knowing that it is a croissant from said cafe.Â
Ghost sits next to you on the bed, bringing up a small bag. He holds it out for you. When you reach out to grab it, he moves it away. âAh ah, kiss tax.â
You roll your eyes, and lean over giving him a quick peck on the lips. His smile grows âThank youâ he places the bag onto your lap.
You give him a peck on the cheek now, âGood morning and thank you handsomeâ. You pull out the croissant and munch down.
âAfter you eat, I have more presents for you.â He offers. Simon does get you presents often. They always range from small things like a treat from your favorite bakery to larger things like that crazy limited-edition dress from one of your favorite movies.Â
You finish up eating and Simon takes your trash. âStay here for now. Iâll come get you when it is ready.â He disappears from the room for a little bit. You decide to get up and do your morning routine. As you are exiting the bathroom, the bedroom door opens and he walks into the room again. âAlright, come on.â He holds his hand out. You walk up to him, immediately putting your hand into his.Â
Oh my gods. When you exit the bedroom, looking into the living room and kitchen you are greeted with a wild sight. There are balloons everywhere. On the kitchen counter are multiple giant bags and a beautiful bouquet featuring your favorite flower. âGo sit on the couch.â Simon instructs you before heading into the kitchen to grab some of the bags.Â
You sit on the couch as he brings over the bags. He sets them down in front of you. âHappy International Womenâs Day.â
In the bags were some of your favorite snacks and goodies; a nice dress; a purse you had been wanting and a new bag for your laptop. You lean over hugging him and giving him a kiss. âThank you, Si.âÂ
Ghost smiles brightly. âAnything for you, Sweetheart.â He leans in, placing a soft kiss on your lips. You giggle against his lips.
You spend the day hanging out at home. Watching your favorite shows, enjoying the snacks and new tea Simon had bought for you. In the evening, he tells you to put on your new dress for dinner. He takes you out to the fancy restaurant that opened last month. It is beautiful and classy.Â
As he is placing a spoonful of food into your mouth he leans in and whispers into your ear. âCanât wait to get home and taste youâ. Causing you to almost choke on the bite. He spends the rest of dinner whispering dirty promises of what is to come into your ear.Â
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Scrapper, Harvey decides, watching the boy from behind his sunglasses. From Harvey's bench to the square of blanket on the grass, he can't hear what words are being said between the two people sitting in the sun, but he can see details of their bodies and gestures. The one with long hair seems relaxed and elegant, polished. Alistair would like them. But they're not Harvey's type.
No, he's got his eye on the other one. Hunched up, glaring around him, probably keeping Harvey in the corner of his eye as much as Harvey is keeping him in view. He has the sharp edges of someone hardened against the world. He knows how to turn a softed side to his companion, but Harvey sees through that. He holds himself like he's expecting a knife to come out at any second.
The crutches could be something else, but Harvey would bet his wallet that it was chronic pain from previous injuries. There was a certain protective tension, even when he was sitting down, that seemed barely conscious. New to the crutches, maybe, but not to the hurt.
Scrapper could take pain, and had taken pain. And if Harvey could just separate him from his partner, he would take a lot more.
Johnny Mundo and Prince Puma get caught making out despite ânot being togetherâ.
This is my first venture into a new fandom, and also a prompt that I really really loved, and that combination means Iâm super nervous about posting it! I also have no idea how to tag it! Iâm just kind of gonna... drop it and run? Sometime in mid-Season 1:
Itâs getting crowded in the locker room as the roster grows; especially at times like this, when half of them are trying to work out at once, everyone is on top of each other and in each otherâs space. So itâs not really a surprise, the first time Johnny turns around to swap out dumbbells, that he about trips over Puma leaving the squat rack.
Itâs a little more surprising, five minutes later, when Puma backs straight into him as heâs looking for an empty space to do some shrugs in. And fifteen minutes after that, the crowd gradually thinning out, when they both go for the same bench at the same time.
By the time the locker room is empty except for the two of them, and Puma is still somehow underfoot at every turn, heâs starting to feel slightly persecuted. Like heâs not distracting enough, he grouses silently to himself, then shakes his head, backs off as far as he can and sits down on the furthest bench to do concentration curls.
And looks up to find Puma on the pull-up bar barely two feet away.
âOkay, what?â he demands, unable to stop himself. âAre we playing a game? Is this a dominance thing?â
No answer. Of course. He doesnât know what he was expecting.
âItâs my magnetic personality, right?You just want to be near me?â
Still no answer, but this time Puma stops what heâs doing, drops down from the bar and turns to face him.
This is stupid, a warning voice in his head notes, but he ignores it, grins tightly and goes on, âOr are you putting on a show for me?â
Puma takes a step closer, and Johnny finds his gaze drifting down over Pumaâs body, lingering on the curve of his triceps, the sheen of sweat on his inked chest. Be Fearless.
Well, what the hell, he thinks, reaches up with his free hand, grabs Puma by the waist and pulls him down into his lap.
Itâd be easy enough to play off as a joke, a kind of game of chicken, just the continuation of⌠whatever weird dominance game this is theyâve been playing. He half expects to get decked for his trouble, and fully expects Puma to shove away from him, jump back up and leave. And heâs not surprised â Puma throws his right hand up as heâs pulled off-balance, plants his palm flat against Johnnyâs chest, and he can feel the tension coiled in the arm behind it, ready to push him back.
And then he is surprised, because Puma⌠doesnât move.
Johnny looks down at the hand resting on his chest, studies it for a second, then shifts his gaze up to Pumaâs face and feels his mouth go dry. Puma is staring down at him, eyes wide, lips slightly parted, and itâs not always easy to read his face under the mask, but â whatever else he might be thinking, he hasnât pulled away.
Very carefully, very slowly, Johnny lets the dumbbell roll down his fingers to rest on the floor, straightens up, bringing his right hand up between their entwined legs to rest loosely on his own thigh. âIâm pretty sure everyoneâs gone but us,â he says; in the silence of the empty locker room, it comes out louder than he meant it to, and he and Puma both start a little. He wets his lips and tries again, a little lower, âIf Iâm reading this wrong, tell me. But if Iâm not, weâre not gonna get a better chance.â
A long moment passes, and then Puma nods, leans in toward him; Johnny grins, slides his hand around to the small of Pumaâs back, and pulls him the rest of the way in until their lips meet.
Puma kisses him softly, even a little cautiously at first; then he shifts his weight in Johnnyâs lap, seems to find his angle, and the kiss turns fierce, hungry, so forceful that itâs an effort for Johnny not to tip backward right off the bench. He rallies, though, recovers his balance and returns the kiss with equal ferocity, lifting his right hand to Pumaâs hip and gripping him hard. In return Puma shifts his hand, too, slides it up Johnnyâs shoulder and around to the nape of his neck to tangle in his hair; his grip is light, but steady, and Johnny goes along willingly as Puma tilts his head back, breaks the kiss and mouths his way down Johnnyâs jawline to nip at the pulse point there. Johnny swallows a groan, reluctant to break the near-silence of the room; the only sound is Puma breathing hard against his throat, his own harsh pantingâ
â the click and squeak of the locker room door opening.
By the time heâs processed the sound, Pumaâs already springing to his feet, launching himself full-force off Johnnyâs shoulders to do it; Johnny isnât expecting the shove, and this time he does go over backward, and takes the bench down with him. He glances toward the door as heâs trying to disentangle his legs from it, and barely holds back a curse â itâs Cueto standing in the doorway, eyebrows raised as his gaze flicks from Johnny up to Puma and back again, all three of them frozen in place as the moment stretches on. He canât have seen much, Pumaâs fast reaction saw to that, butâŚ
âPlease,â Cueto says at last, raising his hands palms-out toward them, âdonât let me interrupt.â
Johnny throws a quick glance at Puma, gets only an infinitesimal shrug in return. He turns his focus back to Cueto and, as casually as he can manage, starts, âUh, youâre notââ
âNo, no,â the boss cuts him off, âplease â finish your, ah, workout. Iâm locking up for the night, but security will be here to let you out.â Heâs backing out the door as he says it, and for a moment Johnny thinks that maybe he really didnât see anything, that the suspicious little pause before workout was his imagination.
Then Cueto flashes a sharp grin, just before the door closes on him, and adds, âItâs good to see my fighters becoming such good friends.â
Epilogue: later, in another part of the templeâŚ
âSo,â Dario says, looking out the window of his office, his back to the fighter at his desk. âYou want a shot at my championship.â
In the reflection, he can see Cage jut his chin forward, all arrogance. âIâve been saying so since the day I walked in here.â
âAnd youâve certainly been working hard for it.â Dario stares out the window a little longer, drums his fingers on the sill, makes him wait for it. Then he turns, flashes a smile, and says, âItâs yours. Next week.â
Cage hasnât been at the temple long, but clearly heâs learning; Dario has to stifle a laugh at the instant change in his face, from cocky pride to suspicion. âWhatâs the catch?â
âPlease, nothing like that. There is one little condition, but itâs nothing â something I think youâll be happy to do for me.â Dario reaches for a glass, pours, holds it out to Cage; when the big man shakes his head, he shrugs and takes a sip himself. He lets a slow, predatory smile spread across his face and goes on, âMake it painful.â
Cage looks as if he wants to laugh. âThatâs it?â
âYou know I am a man who loves violence. But from this match, I want more. I want brutality. I want cruelty.â Dario gives a little shrug, takes another sip of his drink. âNot such a terrible catch, is it?â
Cage grins, and Dario recognizes the light in his eyes, the thirst for blood. âConsider it done.â
Later, after heâs seen Cage out, he stands at the window again, looking out at his temple and imagining the next weekâs scene. One hand drifts unconsciously up to his face; he brushes his fingertips across the ghost of a bruise on his cheek, and smiles.
You had been sick with a severe cold for two days. Taking medicine and trying to just be normal at work. But nothing you do seems to work.Â
Ghost finds you in the bathroom, sitting on the floor drinking tea while the shower runs blazing hot. Steam fills the entire bathroom, fogging the mirrors. Instead of the usual lights on, you have one of those galaxy projectors. Purple and red clouds cascade across the ceiling. You look so tired, sitting there on your phone and sipping on your tea.
âLove?â Ghost speaks gently. âDidnât feel like showering?âÂ
You slowly turn your head to look up at him. He is right. You didn't want to have to get undressed, get into the shower and sit there, wet. You also didnât want to try to squeeze into the small bathtub in your apartment. It wouldnât feel full enough anyways. Youâre sick and tired. Anything that isnât sitting down makes you more tired and dizzy.
âToo much workâ You manage to croak out despite your sore throat.
Simon nods âYeah, do you want me to help you into the shower?"
You donât even have to think about it. You slowly shake your head no. âDonât wanna be wetâ
He sits on the floor next to you. He knows you have had a headache for days, so he doesnât say anything else. You two just sit there for you donât know how long. Eventually Simon turns off the shower and carries you to bed. Maybe youâll feel better tomorrow.
Did I write this while on my bathroom floor? In this exact scenario? Yes, yes I did. (minus Ghost unfortunately)
Also, just learned how to do colors on here. Thank you again for reading my teeny tiny fics. I have a bigger one (more like 11) in the works. Just debating on asking my best friend to be my beta reader or straight sending it. Only time will tell.
Word Count: 81 (Yes I know she teeny just a scene that popped in my head lol)
You're at the bar, up on the stage doing karaoke
"BABY!"
Head thrown back
"Where the hell is my husband?"
Eyes closed as you continue to sing your heart out
"What is taking him so long?"
Hand coming to your chest dramatically
"To find me-e-e."
You now lean forward, hand flying from your chest as you belt out
"OH BABY!!"
Ghost, your husband of many years, shakes his head while watching your theatrics from the crowd. Still amused at your flamboyancy.
A/N: Firstly, as always thank you for reading my fics and putting up with my terrible spelling/grammar. I know it's a teeny fic. This is just something that popped up in my head and I felt the need to share.
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Soap and Gaz are giddy about finally getting to meet you. The person who can tame Ghost with a simple call. The one with Ghostâs heart in the palm of their hands. Soap is balancing pizzaâs in his hands. Gaz is carrying the drinks.Â
Ghost unlocks and opens the door. The boys are greeted with a loud voice sing-yelling along to a song. You are standing on the couch sing-yelling along to a musical. Ghost rushes to the couch and catches you right as you fall off.Â
âHey, Darlingâ
Your giggle and smile up at Ghost âHey, Dummyâ
Ghost shakes his head âYou always go too hard to that song.â There are many times where he has caught you from falling off the couch and many times where he has not. Yet, you never learn.Â
You giggle again. âI canât help it. Itâs such a good songâ
He rests his forehead against yours. âI already banned you from listening to it in the shower. Do I have to ban you from listening to it in the living room too?â
You gasp out âYou wouldn't dare.â
Soap clears his throat.Â
Shit. Ghost had forgotten they were behind him. He turns around with you in his arms, then gently places you down.Â
You smile walking up to Soap and Gaz. âHi, nice to meet you. I'm y/n.â You reach out to take the pizzas from Soap.Â
âNo.â Ghost slaps your hand away, taking the pizzas himself and walking into the kitchen with them.Â
âI can helpâ You yell after him
âNo, and don't even think about taking those sodas.â He yells back
Gaz gives you a nod before following Ghost
âYou must be Johnnyâ you hold out your hand
Soap shakes your hand âAye thatâll be meâ
âAnd Gazâ You turn to Gaz and Ghost returning from the kitchen
âYes. Nice to meet youâ Gaz holds out his hand and you shake it.
Soap walks over to Ghost and slings an arm around his shoulder âAye Lad, you been talking bout us?â
You laugh a little, âItâs not that hard.â You gesture to Soap âYou have a mohawk, so youâre obviously Johnny.â You gesture to Gaz âAnd he doesnât look like father time, so he isnât Price, He must be Gaz.â
Gaz and Soap share a look before quickly falling into a fit of laughter.Â
âFATHER TIME?!â Soap bellows
You glance at Ghost, confused âYeah, father time. Si says your captain is old like father time.â
Gaz is practically dying with laughter, bent over, crying, breathless.Â
âHe is barely older than Ghost.â Soap gasps out through his laughter, âBy like five yearsâ
You turn to Ghost âHe is ONLY FOURTY?! YOU SPEAK LIKE HE IS SEVENTY!!â
Ghost shrugs âMight as well beâ
You shake your head âYouâre incorrigible."
A/N: As always thank you for reading my fics and putting up with my terrible spelling/grammar. More nothing burgers, to release them from my skull.
I love the idea (Idk if it is actual cannon) that Price is literally only a few years older than Price. I also love the idea of them all calling Price dad to fuck with him.
I originally wrote this as a continuation of this. But I then decided to separate them.
It was the first day in a week you had finally fully felt like a person. The last traces of your sickness still lingering in your body. The cough and runny nose are still present. But the fatigue, sinus pressure, all the other aches and shit were gone.Â
You were sitting on your couch, bundled up, watching t.v. The sound of your front door unlocking and opening catches your attention. When you turn your head to look you see your boyfriend, Simon, entering the apartment holding a small paper bag.Â
âHey Love, how ye feelinâ?" Simon calls out
âBetter, more like a person today.âÂ
Simon takes off his shoes. âThatâs good to hear. I hate when youâre sick.â He walks up to you on the couch. âBrought you a little gift.â He leans down and kisses the top of your head.Â
You smile up at him doing a little happy wiggle. Every single day he has surprised you with little things to make you feel better. âA present?âÂ
Simon nods âYeah, just stay here and Iâll bring it to you.âÂ
Easy Peasy. âOkayâÂ
He disappears into the kitchen for about 5 minutes then reemerges; plopping down onto the sofa next to you. He pulls your legs into his lap âGive the oven some time to heat up and Iâll make your surprise.âÂ
When you do another little wiggle he feels his heart melt.Â
Thirty minutes later the apartment smells delicious and Simon is walking out of the kitchen carrying a plate and two cups. You sit up a little more ready to receive whatever he is about to gift you. He places the plate in your lap and you see what that familiar smell is; itâs Halloween cookies. The gesture fills you with joy. Halloween is your favorite holiday and anything Halloween brings you joy. You reach over and squeeze him into a hug. âThank you, Si!âÂ
âAnything for you love. Figured they would perk you up.â He says into your neck, trying to not spill the drinks.Â
You pull away still beaming âHow did you even find these? They are a Halloween exclusive! Itâs March.âÂ
He laughs and sits down with your beverages. âI bought a bunch at Halloween time and stocked my freezer.âÂ
You scoff. âNo you didnât. I haven't seen them in your freezer.â
Simon just shrugs back at you playfully. âI dunno then, Love.â
You squint your eyes at him. You can tell he is being a little shit and won't tell you where he got them from. Hmm You decide to ignore it and just enjoy the treat. And enjoy the cookies you do, snuggled into Simonâs side while watching shitty television.Â
A/N: As always, thank you for reading my fic <3 I feel my spelling and grammar wasnât as terrible in this one. I hope you enjoy this teeny nothing burger <3
This was based on the fact that I am finally feeling better. Woo! And I am right now watching Hellâs Kitchen and baking those prepackaged Halloween themed cookies to perk myself up. Yes they are expired. No I don't care.
Reader identifies as a woman, thus Johnny calls reader "lassie".
Simon and the guys were sitting around the breakroom passing the time.
Gaz and Soap, sitting on the couch both respond âSupermanâÂ
Simon smirks under his mask before giving his answer from his spot at the table. âBatmanâÂ
âBatman?! Thatâs s-â Soap is cut off by the ringing of Ghostâs phone.Â
Ghost holds up a finger and answers it âHi, Darling.â
âHey, Dummy, you busy?â
Ghost drops his finger âNo, Darling. Just with the guys talking about who the best superhero is.â
âAhhh, what did you say?â
Ghostâs mask moves as his smirk grows, already knowing what is coming âBatmanâ
âThatâs no-. Youâre so-. I-. How ca-. You-â You growl out, not finishing a sentence. You hang up in frustration.
Ghost just laughs and brings his phone away from his ear.Â
âAye, who does your-â Soap is again cut off by Ghostâs phone ringing
âYes, Love?âÂ
âYouâre just saying that to upset me hunh?â
He chuckles and then replies âYes, Love.âÂ
You make a hum of distrust
Simon just shakes his head and chuckles âWe all know Spiderman is the best.âÂ
Soap rolls his eyes.Â
Gaz gives Soap a confused look.
Soap whispers âHis lassie, fire cracker that one is.â Gaz nods, having gotten his answer.
As Ghost pockets his phone Soap asks âSo when do we get to meet the lass anyways?â
A/N: As always thank you for reading my fics and putting up with my terrible spelling/grammar. This is an absolute nothing burger, but I have to get these little ideas out of my head so I don't go crazy. Sorry if your favorite superhero isn't Spiderman. Reader is just me
