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I said this already but AAAAAAAAAA THIS IS THE CUTEST THING IVE LAID MY EYES ON EVER!!!

Sugar

Pairing: Nikolai x F!Reader

Word Count: 746

Synopsis: Lingering gazes and teasing kisses lead to a very happy Nik 🫶

A/N: Was nervous writing this cause I wanted it to be well written as my first contribution to the COD writing community— but I hope you like it!! It’s based off of THIS TIKTOK!! Credit goes to them for inspiration! Ignore my clunky layout..

Tw: None! It’s all fluffy content 🫶

—————

Fingers silently tapped along the side of the can of Red Bull in her hand, eyes fixated on the Russian who spoke on and on about… what was it again?

It started as his recent upgrades to his helicopter that he cared for like it was his masterpiece. Then again, it has helped the team out of so many bad situations on countless occasions, as well as made travel a lot easier. The copter even brought some amusing memories— one incident in particular being one that won’t be let go for a while. It made her smile a little to herself even to this day. She supposed that he had every right to go on and on about such a useful vehicle.

The conversation seemed to drift into more of his travels while flying it than the vehicle itself. That seemed to be the case, anyways, with how he spoke of the common cuisine throughout the countries he’s flown through that he wanted to try.

In all honesty, she hadn’t been listening for the majority of the time he spoke, only catching utterances of how he fitted the copter with new blades to make the flight smoother and how he’s never tried a churro before. Her gaze had been glued to him the entire time, mind stuck on admiring the man before her as they enjoyed their lunch break together. It was hard not to. Seeing him so relaxed in her presence eased her heart and the sound of his voice, thick with his Russian accent, was like music to her ears. The Lieutenant could listen to him talk all day if she could. To add that he was quite handsome, too, only made her infatuation stronger.

“Do you know what I’ve always wanted to try?” The sudden question pulled the woman from her thoughts. Her lashes fluttered as she sat up in place, just noticing his expectant gaze lingering on her face. For a moment, a wave of embarrassment washed over her, not knowing whether or not he had noticed her almost lovesick gaze just mere moments ago. If he did, he made no comment or any physical gesture showing that he did. He only kept his intense gaze on her, shifting slightly in place as if anxious to continue his rambling.

“Kissing me.”

“No, fish and chips. Is it really as good as they--...kissing you?”

“What..? Kissing me?” It took everything in her to not laugh at his bewildered look that melted into one of pure confusion. Instead, a look of slight surprise was present on her face, a brow raised in question. Teeth bit at the inside of her lip, watching the gears in his mind turn oh so slowly to try and process the whether or not she actually said that.

He turned his head to face the wall in front of him and across the room. Not understanding his muttered Russian speech, she smiled to herself before downing the rest of the Red Bull in her hand and began to stand. The crinkle of the aluminum in her hand did nothing to catch his attention, nor did her presence standing over his shoulder.

A smirk tugged to her lips, leaning over his shoulder to level her head with the side of his. A free hand rested on his shoulder for balance and her lips pressed firmly against his cheek. The feeling of his facial hair itched lightly against the softness of her lips and for the short moment they remained against his skin, she could swear she felt the surface of his cheek warm against them. The Lieutenant smiled softly at him, stopping by his ear before pulling away completely. “See you later, Sugar.”

The sound of his breath getting caught in his throat pulled a chuckle from her, removing her hand from his shoulder and making her way to the exit. She dropped the empty and crushed can away, the aluminum can clattering against the sides of the trashcan until it reached the bottom.

A silence lingered in the hallway as she began to retreat to the training grounds where she would be supervising drills for a bunch of recruits, but only for a moment as the sound of heavy, rushing footsteps quickly closing the gap between her and the source filled her senses. A smile tugged to her lips, turning around in time to see the pilot red faced but with the dopiest grin pulled onto his face.

—————

Tags 🏷️

@ohworm-writes @ghostlywhiskey @bookobsessedram

Hi! I don’t know if your requests are open currently so you can ignore this, but I was wondering if you could write something involving Nikolai being a soft dom as he overstimulates the reader, whispering praises into her ear as he coax another orgasm out of her?? I totally think he’s great at aftercare too but that might just be me 🤭 (Also love love LOVE your writing, and this is def inspired by your Nikolai hc’s that I loved too!!) 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽‼️

「✰」 ━━ HONEY AND MOLASSES

RATING R - Restricted [ Content warnings : 18+ mdni, afab!reader, feminine pronouns used, soft-dom!Nikolai, sub!reader, overstimulation, cunnilingus, oral sex, vaginal fingering, praise, body worship, slight biting, vulgar language, aftercare ]

SYNOPSIS As seen in the request above. (I wrote this in an hour straight, not stopping once. I don't know what possessed me, and I don't even know if this is good, but I really hope you like it. Thank you for the kind words. 🫶) Translations provided at the bottom!

WORD COUNT 1.3k

“Come on, малышка, you can give me another, нет?”

He asks rhetorically, voice low yet so sickly sweet, dripping from his lips as if it were laced with honey and molasses, a sweetness starkly contrasting with the way his thumb circles your clit in slow, counterclockwise circles, the rough padding juxtaposing the softness of his touch, two of his thick fingers filling you to be so utterly full as he curls and stretches them inside of you.

It’s the sweetest feeling, yet the cruelest torture. He’s kept you like this for what feels like hours, drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you that you can’t even find the strength in your arms to push or kick him away, left only to whine and keen out in loud, breathy sounds that he listens to like a gospel, the slurred words that fall from your lips sounding like nothing less than a prayer.

A prayer to him - for him.

“Nnn…”

You try to start, the first letter of his name finding its way to the tip of your tongue, ready to fold out and flourish into something more - a plea for him to stop or keep going, you don’t know - before it dies off, crumbles, and shatters, replaced by another whine as he replaces his thumb with his tongue, his chest rumbling as he chuckles deeply with nothing short of amusement.

His fingers continue their ministrations, curling so deeply inside of you that you swear you can feel him in your stomach, arching your back up into his touch and trying to shy away from it at the same time. You’re so drunk on the pleasure he’s been providing to you non-stop that, at this point, you can’t tell if you love it or if you hate it.

“Taking my fingers so well, aren’t you?”

He coos out in a whisper, his nose pressing against your lower abdomen, barely taking his tongue away for a few seconds to speak before it returns, providing you with its undivided attention. His free hand keeps one of your legs pressed back, keeping you wide open for him as he squeezes softly onto the flesh of the underside of your thigh.

“Ты так хорошо принимаешь все, что я тебе даю. Это так прекрасно.”

Your body jerks and spasms as you get closer and closer to your release, borderline thrashing against the bed as you whine out as his tongue quickens in the way it teases and abuses your poor, swollen clit, all puffy from the attention he’s been giving it, his fingers pumping and curling and stretching out your cunt in a way that makes you twitch.

God, it’s so beautifully devastating.

“Can’t… t… too much.”

You complain out to him, voice hoarse and raw, a broken sob passing through your lips and settling into the air between you both, mixing and intertwining with the smell of sex, weaving into a blanket of pleasure. He chuckles, his eyes crinkling as he does so, before he takes your clit into his mouth and sucks hard onto it, making your breath stutter as it depletes from your lungs.

And then everything blurs.

Your orgasm hits you like a semi-truck, having you teeter over the edge of pleasure before pushing you in without warning, your eyes rolling back into your head as your back arches, your whole body tensing as you clench and gush around his fingers, completely soaking them with the warm slickness of your climax - though, granted, everything up to his knuckles has been soaked in nothing but your slick and cum for the past while, so there’s hardly any difference.

“There you go, beautiful girl. That’s it.”

He murmurs softly, his tongue gently flicking your clit in slow, unhurried movements, working to draw out your orgasm to the very last second before finally - finally pulling away, pressing one last kiss to it that makes you jolt as he slowly slides his fingers out of you, the makeshift plug that they had acted as being removed, a small amount of your own cum and slick trickling out of you.

It’s an intoxinactingly sinful sight, one that makes him groan deep as he licks off his fingers and knuckles, tongue tracing over every bump and dip of his hands as he cleans remnants of you from it, watching the haze that coats your eyes as your body twitches and shivers ever-so slightly, riding out the last of your high as your body slowly begins to melt into the plush fabric of the bed.

The sight makes him grin, the scruff of his beard scratching against your inner thigh as he leans back, pressing a gentle kiss to it, nibbling softly as he translates his pure adoration into the action, littering kisses and gentle bites all along the skin of your left thigh, before transitioning to the right one, mumbling soft praises against your skin as he does so.

“So perfect for me. Pretty sight, you are. You already know that though, да? Of course you do. Smart thing, too.”

He’s muttering softly to himself, lost in his own world as you lose yourself in yours, dumb from all of the pleasure he’s given to you, having drawn… four? Five orgasms out of you? You can’t even tell or remember at this point, having lost track when the sun first went down outside - it’s pitch black now, so it must have been a while ago.

He worships your body as if it were a work of art - a marble statue sculpted by the ancient Greeks, a work of art for only his eyes to see, to adore, to lust for, to praise, to grab, to touch, to hold, to kiss, to bite, to lick, to worship. Because you are everything to him. You’re the reason he gets up in the mornings and the reason he sleeps so peacefully at night.

A goddess amongst mankind, he muses.

His hands traverse the curves of your form, greedily grabbing and tugging at every inch of skin that he can find, pulling you closer and further into his own bare frame, pressing kisses against your skin, and licking hot, wet paths along your body, as if he were following a map to find a treasure he’s spent his whole life searching for, utterly obsessed with the journey he’s set out on.

Your thighs, your cunt, your tummy, your tits, your shoulders, your hands, your neck… refusing to stop until every inch of skin on your body has been touched by his lips and his words, mumbling out lowly, breathily against the underside of your chin as he continues to travel upwards, right until he finds himself hovering above you, his lips a hairsbreadth away from your own.

“My pretty girl.”

“Y…”

You try to start, wanting to affirm his words and say “yours”, but you’re too fucked out to even think about what letter comes next in that response, your mind too lost in the foggy daze it’s lost itself in, your eyes long having glazed over as you stare at him, blinking slowly with your lips parted, mouth open, having so many words to say but not nearly enough energy or focus to form them.

He silences your words with a kiss to your lips, and you can taste every part of yourself on his tongue as he tastes your lips, swallowing the word from your lungs and your mind until you forget it, only focused on him, fingers reaching upwards with strain towards his cheeks, trying to pull him in impossibly closer, to which he chuckles, the sound reverberating against your chest.

He tuts and clicks his tongue as he gently pats your outer thigh, pulling back by a few inches, his eyes lost in a haze of their own.

“Come on. Let me get you cleaned and fed. You’ve been so good for me. You deserve it.”

And how could you ever deny him?

малышка - baby, baby girl

нет - no

Ты так хорошо принимаешь все, что я тебе даю. Это так прекрасно. - You are so good at taking everything I give you. It's so beautiful.

да - yes

A Reunion to Remember (John Price x Nikolai x Reader)

Summary: It's a special day, not that John realises as he walks right into a set-up of his lovers’ making.

AN: This is part of @bunnyreaper's Valentine's Day Fic Swap for @bookobsessedram <3 I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Content warnings: Allusions to sex (18+ only, minors DNI), reader wears some lacy underwear (not specified), pronouns not used but John calls the reader "sweet girl".

Masterlist

It was once in a moon as crystal blue as his eyes that Captain John Price got the opportunity to collect on intel and deals for himself. After a month of Sundays was when he felt up to it. Usually there were officers undercover, various rats, CIA operatives who could handle that kind of thing – Kate having her own networks of underlings to seek out the truth.

Yet today John made sure that he was the person going to gather this and Kate allowed it. Both of these actions were made with the same reason in mind: it required an interaction with Nikolai. Neither John nor Kate told the brass that, of course. Fed into their paperwork was something about maintaining relationships with allies in important places across the world.

Three train rides, a red-eye flight and a hired car brought John to exactly where he wanted to be: a familiar hanger with an apartment built along the side, fit for the purpose of his visit, overcast clouds hiding their illicit rendezvous from the glare of the sun.

Nikolai spotted John before John spotted him, scaling down the plane and sauntering out the hanger. The two men engaged in a light jog. Delight burrowing in their cheeks and chests, they clapped hands, hugged, and – with the absence of the task force to observe – shared a whiskery kiss, engine oil mixing with cigar smoke in a bitter reunion.

“Glad to see you, Captain.”

“Been too long, Nik.”

“Good thing I coaxed you over, impeccable timing too.” Though his brow creased in curiosity, Price didn’t question – for now – what his boyfriend meant by that whilst following his lead back into the hanger. He spoke briefly about the state of his journey before Nikolai’s gloved hand grasped John’s jaw.

“Do you know what day it is?”

“Fourteenth, why?”

“Anything springing to mind? Anything important?”

After a moment’s consideration, John shook his head slightly with a suspicious squint. Cocking his head over one shoulder, Nikolai let out a two note laugh and whistled sharply through his teeth.

Your arms popped out first through the open canopy, shortly followed by your head as you crowed, “Surprise!”

John’s hearty hoot echoed around the hanger as he removed his hat to clutch to his chest while catching his breath – the one that you took away from him every time he saw you. These occasions had grown more scarce nowadays. If two of your throuple meeting up was like finding a four leaf clover, then all three of you coming together was an entire landscape of the bastards.

Trying to work out what you being with them had to do with the date and felt a fleeting flash of fear at the impossibility of it being your anniversary. It wasn’t. So, while he watched you clamber down the steps with Nikolai holding your hand, John wracked his brain for the connection.

“You are a sight for sore eyes,” John approached the foot of the steps.  

Rolling your eyes, you pointed semi-accusingly at him, “You, Jonathan Price, are a difficult man to get a meeting with.”

“Kate knew?”

Nik kicked over a footstool, “She knows everything; I thought you understood that.”

“Enough about work.” You dragged the stool over with the tip of your foot, stepped up on it, grabbed John by the straps of his vest and tugged him to your level for a long-awaited kiss.

Sandwiched between the barrel chests of your two lovers was your new reality. Some idealist cell in your brain sparked in hope that it could be your permanent home with John on your lips and Nik on your neck – right where a crick was just emerging.

Forced to pull away, you stretched out the muscle on your neck, “Fuckin’ hell, I’ve been folded in that cockpit for half an hour waiting for you to show up.”

“Good thing today’s all about treating you,” Nik squeezed your shoulder and you prayed this was a precursor to a full back rub. Your Nik was very talented with his hands like that.

You cupped his cheek, swaying on the spot as he moved down to hold onto your hips, “Too right.”

Simultaneous to your affection exchange, John was frowning again. The date, the expectation of the day, the apparent arrangement that had gotten him and his two partners in the same place…

His eyebrows relaxed and his face cleared.

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” He said quietly.

Locking onto John’s confounded expression – a rarity that you relished - you ribbed, “You’re just now getting that?”

John coughed a laugh out to cover his embarrassment, “I’m out of practice.”

Your eyes flashed in amusement and the recollection of rumours of Price being a bit of a bunny in his rookie days – rumours that probably had no foundation. Your source had been Soap while he’d been stirring for the circumstances of your relationship to his Captain.

“We’ll be sure to warm you up a bit first then,” You promised as you led John like a pleasant smell wafting from a kitchen, into Nikolai’s private apartment.

Familiar décor welcomed you in, plus the smell of candles that Nikolai was lighting. Apparently he was going all out with the classic stuff. John found himself not turning up his nose at them, nor at the idea of potentially being fed chocolate like in an advert he’d seen on plastered on the train. Once he’d locked the door behind him, John found himself faced with an outstretched rose from Nikolai. You were already beaming behind your own flower.

“Nik,” Price’s cheeks were determined to show him up, shifting in shade to match the roses. His eyes rolled but were clearly contradicted by his grin and how he was unable to hide it.

“What?” Nikolai replied innocently, “I can’t get my partners flowers on the most romantic day of the year?”

“But I didn’t get either of you anything.”

Rose tucked in the crook of your elbow, your thick jacket protecting you from the thorns, you took off John’s hat, tossing it off onto Nikolai’s desk. It clashed into the pencil pot and covered up the photograph taken of your throuple the last instance you’d been together (post-helicopter ride across Belarus). You didn’t acknowledge it, choosing instead to run your fingers through John’s cool cropped hair.

“You didn’t even know it was Valentine’s Day; no shit you got us nothing,” You ribbed before getting serious, “John, we’re just glad you’re here with us.”

His nose nudged down into the petals of his rose, and you scratched the back of his neck where his hair stubbled. Like a cat, he hummed in encouragement.

“I’ll make it up to you anyhow,” He whispered, “Sweet girl.”

“Yeah, there’s always next year,” You gave a playful little tug before releasing him. As if he didn’t know that there was nothing to forgive and you meant every word: you just wanted to be near him.

 Nikolai swooped in to peck John on the lips. A peck turned into a more intoxicating kiss, one that shut up his boyfriend effectively.

John would’ve happily let Nikolai take all the kisses he wanted but he spotted you, in his peripherals, watching dreamily sat on the desk. Your legs swung back and forth gleefully. His hat was in your lap as you twisted the rose around by the stem. Nikolai drew away and in a deep breath at the hearts your pupils were shifting into.

“Get back over here,” He said with two fingers coaxing you over, “And take that jacket off.”

Dutifully, you followed his instructions. A gift from your previous engagement, your jacket was draped it where Nikolai had done the same to his signature tan leather jacket, leaving John feeling overdressed when he caught a hint at something lacy and meadow green peeking out where your skin showed, your shirt caught on your jacket removal. Greed suddenly sprouted from his blooming heart and latching onto you by your plush hips when you were within reach, hauling you close and murmuring how much he adored you while you twisted Nikolai’s chain between compliments and neck kisses as if idle. You were about to be anything but, in for one hell of a reunion.

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

I made your love language physical touch because you’re away from your boys so much that you just wanna soak it up when you’re with them. Nikolai’s is gifts (like when he gives Price his favourite gun and his hostages <3) because he loves seeing how his partners react to something that made him think of them. Price’s is words of affirmation because he’s a man of his word and equally loves seeing how his partners are affected by them.

Streamer (head canons)

Summery: Headcanons about Simon with an s/o who streams.

Tags: Headcanons, swearing, slight suggestive but nothing too crazy

A/N: I don’t stream but if I did, I’d probably stream Microsoft Flight Simulator because I love planes. Also I have a thing planned for Simon with an s/o who loves planes and that is going to be very self indulgent and it’s gonna be great I promise-

GIF NOT MINE

Continuar lendo

Always Room For One More

A/N: Female reader, this fic is dedicated to @xintothewoodswegox​  who I can’t thank enough for you constant support. ✌ Still a huge thank you to everyone else! I do see you and appreciate you. (If your thinking, is that me? Yes is it)

Summary: Ghost returns to his room after a mission to find it already occupied by his lovers who encourage him to join them.

Word count: 3658

Warnings: Smut

AO3 Masterlist

Keep reading

The barman was clearly flirting with you, the way he was undressing you with his eyes and all the flirty jokes and fluttering compliments he was making. All these didn't go unnoticed by Ghost who was currently sitting on the corner of the bar, his glass of whiskey tightly grasped by his hand, threatening to shatter into tiny pieces.

And that's how you are found here. Your ass up while his tattooed arm is wrapped around your neck, his free hand grasping your hip in a tight hold while fucking you like an animal in heat. You're sure that by the end of the night your hip will be bruised. He's going hard on you, but you can't say no, his cock feels too good to say no.

"This pussy is mine d'you get that luv?" your head is too fucked up to answer. And this time ghost grabs aggressively your cheeks forming a pout "I said did you get it?"

"Y-yes only y-yours" satisfied he lets go and taps lightly your cheek "good girl".

Konig is massive, his big buff body underneath yours as he is pistoning his cock deep inside your cunt. His big hands almost cover your entire waist. He likes when you're on top of him riding him, he loves how small you are compared to him.

For a moment your hands are on your hair, you lip between your teeth as you ride him passionately. Konig thinks he has a goddess in front of him, his hands go over your tits squeezing the soft flesh. He's near, he can feel it. You are almost there too and the next thing you know he is milking your cunt with his cum and you squirt, drenching his thighs.

From the exhaustion your head falls on his shoulder leaving there small pecks. Konig's big hand rubs your back softly while whispering in your ear and telling you how good you were for him.

"Mein Engel, du hast mir so viel Gutes getan" and all you do is grab his hand and kiss his palm while looking at him with your puppy eyes "I love you Konig, I love you so much"

"I love you too Mein Schatz"

whatchya got, boy?

note: requested by @wetsocksinbed :D this fic came to me in a prophetic vision as soon as i read that ask, all i have to say is i was cackling maniacally while writing it. bon apetit.

pairing: john 'soap's mactavish x gn!reader

wc: 4.4k

summary: soap is scared of dogs, you're a k9 handler. your dog is good at finding bodies, he doesn't ever want him to have to find yours.

warnings: angst with a happy ending, canon-typical violence

ao3

soap has never liked dogs.

when people ask him why, he tells them that it's just how he is. he wasn't bitten by one, it's not a trauma response, he just doesn't like them, plain and simple. being in the military and having a phobia of dogs is like painting a giant red target on his forehead, so in the interest of not getting relentlessly made fun of, he keeps it to himself.

until recently, it hasn't been a problem.

then you came along, with your quick wit and charming smile, and he was a goner from the moment you first met.

price had given them your files, told them you and your partner are on loan to the one-four-one for the next few months while they track down a particularly slippery target. the term partner had initially disappointed soap, but then you'd both marched into the room with your heads held high, and he realised;

oh. your partner is a dog.

a german shepherd, to be precise. you're a canine handler, like the universe is playing a trick on him – he hasn't been genuinely interested in someone in god knows how long, and when he finally finds somebody, you're accompanied at all hours by one of the few things he fears.

he's about ready to give up on pursuing you before the briefing is even over, but as the others all stand and file out of the meeting room, your partner comes bounding up to him in all his fanged, furry glory and soap almost has a heart attack.

"he doesn't usually trust strangers," you told him as your dog sits at his feet and wags his tail so hard it might be at risk of dislocation. johnny’s moments away from bolting, the fear climbing up his nerves like constricting vines.

"lucky me, eh?" he smiles at you, which was honestly more like a grimace, but somehow you're not offended by his obvious dislike of your partner. you let out a laugh, and the sound is so melodic he almost forgets about the beast waiting at his heel.

"you can pet him," you grin knowingly, and soap gets the sinking feeling you've figured him out already, "he doesn't bite – not unless i tell him to."

"cheers, but i'll pass…" johnny attempts to protest, in the motion of taking a step back, but you grab his hand before he can escape and drag it down to your dog's face with an amused grin.

"his name's rex." he hears you say, but the way your dog is sniffing at his hand has every muscle in his body tensing involuntarily. he's mortified that you're seeing him react like this, he already knows he'll never be able to live this down once the others find out.

when rex chuffs and starts to lick at his hand, johnny feels like his soul might leave his body. the sharp teeth so close to his skin is so unnerving, the only thing stopping him from making a run for it is your soft grip still around his wrist.

he looks to you for help, but you're watching him with a mischievous grin that sends his heart aflutter.

"see? that wasn't so bad." you chuckle, crouching down next to your dog and thankfully taking rex's attention off him. johnny breathes a quiet sigh of relief, wiping his wet hand on his trousers as he watches you fuss over the canine.

you're endearing, and johnny has to admit that seeing you coo at rex like he's a baby makes him slightly less terrifying.

"price put you up to this?" he asks, holding back a flinch when rex looks up at the sound of his voice.

"he did." you nod, standing back up and meeting his eyes again. "but rex actually does like you. guess you're just charming like that."

"well, thank god for that…" johnny grumbles, his voice dripping with sarcasm. you laugh again, and with the way his pulse quickens, he can't help but send you a cocky grin. "but what i wanna know is, do you like me?"

"hmm…" you feign indecision with a poorly concealed smirk, tapping a finger on your chin before leaning closer and placing a hand on his bicep. "i may need a little more convincing."

after that, johnny can hardly keep himself away from you. 

whenever you're next to him he's got an arm slung over your shoulder, you’re always talking – texting when you’re apart – and any free time he has is spent following you around base, not unlike rex at your heel.

you ask him if he wants to watch you when you train rex, and initially he tries to say no, because he thinks seeing rex practising attacking people might break whatever spell you've cast that makes him not hate the dog; but you drag him along anyway, and he ends up being glad that you did.

it's fascinating, watching rex sniff a shirt from your hand and track down whoever it belongs to with expert precision. it looks almost like a game to the canine, the way his tail swings back and forth the whole time as he effortlessly completes any task you give him.

he finds the dummies you hide with ease, even when they're buried under piles of boxes and clothes and various other obstacles. johnny actually finds himself respecting the dog, which is shocking since a few weeks ago he never would've been able to handle even being in the same room as one.

you give johnny the treats to feed rex, which makes him nervous all over again when the canine looks up at him with wide eyes and all his sharp teeth on display. it takes some coaxing from you, but eventually he gets comfortable enough to let rex take a treat from his hand. he may not admit it, but the only reason he even lets rex get so close is because you're there. simply your presence gives him the courage, makes him feel secure.

"when this is over," johnny begins, hand twitching under rex's tongue and looking at you with such fondness it feels like his heart is about to burst, "i'll take you out proper, treat you right."

you blink at him, surprised, but not a moment later a wide smile is taking over your face. "i look forward to it, mactavish."

the others, particularly gaz and ghost, give him hell for how infatuated he's become with you, but their teasing doesn't deter him. he likes you, and he doesn't care if everybody knows it; you like him too, and that's all he really cares about.

now, sitting in the heli on the way to what they hope will be the final location for this mission, he was almost disappointed to be done with it. you were only on loan for this mission, so once they have their target, you'd be gone. he was hoping, optimistically, that once everything was said and done he could convince you to stay with the one-four-one. he was sure he could talk price into it, and though it was selfish of him, he just wanted you to stay by his side.

you're sitting next to him in the back of the aircraft, rex between your legs with his head resting on your thigh, staring up at johnny with those big brown eyes. without even thinking, he reaches a hand out and ruffles the fur on his head, earning a nudge and an adoring smile from you when he looks over.

"he might like you better than me," you tease, scratching behind rex's ear who was yet to take his eyes off of johnny.

"don't be jealous now, bonnie." he chuckles, returning the nudge to your shoulder. "you can have 'im on weekends."

you grin again and lightly shake your head, taking rex's face in your hands and bending over to press a kiss to the top of his head. "you love me the most, right boy?"

before long, the helicopter is landing and the five of you – plus rex – are following the captain out into the forest. it's cold when they exit the heli, night vision goggles highlighting the terrain through the darkness of the night.

the silence buzzes as you all stalk through the trees. johnny pays more attention to you than he should as you walk beside him, anxiety lighting up his nerves for how this mission will go.

as according to the plan, once the manor is in sight, you all split off into teams of two; him and ghost, price and gaz, and you and rex. he trusted you to do well, like you have been doing for the last few months, but he can't help the way his shoulders tense as he watches you disappear around the corner.

the building is guarded, which was expected of course, but they only had to take down a dozen or so guards until the place was barren.

the corridors were eerily deserted, bathed in a moonlit glow as johnny crept around the manor, following closely behind ghost with both of their heads on a swivel. the radio was quiet, by design for the mission plan, but somehow this time felt different, like they wouldn't hear him if he did call out.

it's the beeping that gives it away. so faint, he almost missed it, but his senses are sharpened like a blade – and as a demolitions specialist, he knows the sound of an explosive when he hears it.

johnny carefully pushes open the door to his right, scanning the room for any movement and finding none, but when his gaze lands on the centre of the room, his pulse skips a beat.

propane canisters, fuse linking them all together, and most concerning, a timer on top blinking at him; two minutes, ticking down with a sickening green glow.

"ghost," he calls, his voice hard and serious as the anxiety builds again, "it's rigged."

ghost steps into the doorway next to him, following johnny's arm as he points to the device.

"fuck." he spits, stepping back and clicking the radio on his vest, but no sound comes out. ghost curses again, looking back to johnny with a tense expression that the sergeant mirrors. "radios aren't workin' either. let's move, c'mon."

there's no room for argument in his tone, marching back the way they came with johnny in tow.

as they emerge back out into the night, price and gaz appear from around the corner, both lifting their goggles and approaching with concern evident on their faces.

"what happened?" price's gaze darts around behind them as he speaks, as if waiting for someone to jump out and attack.

"the place is rigged, we have to go." ghost explains, already moving past them and away from the manor.

the captain nods, gesturing for johnny and gaz to follow as he tries his radio with no luck, just like ghost. the pit of anxiety lingered, getting heavier by the second.

"move it, soap." price commands, a deep frown creasing his brow.

but johnny doesn't move. "hold on, where's k-9?" he asks, a frown of his own pulling his features downwards.

"radios are down, we don't have time to look for 'em." ghost calls over to them, earning a solemn nod from the captain, who tries to move him with a hand on his shoulder.

the radios are down, you have no way of knowing the building is rigged. there's no way johnny's about to leave you on your own in the blind, he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he did.

"no. i'm not leavin' without 'em." johnny growls, his face morphing into a frown as he brushes off the captain's arm and turns to go back inside.

"they might already be outside." gaz tries to reason, stepping in front of him and blocking him from the doorway. kyle's regretful gaze cuts through him, and there's the distinct feeling that everyone else has already given up on you. "we have to move, mate."

johnny scoffs. "fuck that! i can't just leave 'em!" he hisses, insulted by the very idea of leaving one of their own to fend for themselves. no, that's not how they operate, that's not how he operates.

a flash of anger shoots through him and he's about to shove past gaz, but before he can move, price is yanking him away.

"soap!" he growls, shaking him slightly as he grabs johnny's other arm. "get it together, you are not goin' back in there."

before he can argue, he's being grabbed by ghost and dragged away from the manor with him as the other two jog ahead of them into the treeline. 

"oi!" johnny shouts, struggling in the lieutenants iron grip, but to no avail. ghost practically drags him along as he digs his heels into the dirt, writhing in an attempt to escape and go back for you.

he's desperate, he can't lose you, not before he takes you on that date, he promised, you can't die yet–

johnny blinks, the deep, rumbling boom completely derailing his thoughts and starting a piercing ringing in his ears.

white hot fire bursts from the windows of the manor, showering the surrounding area in shards of glass and debris as the heat escapes the building in waves. 

no.

everything seemed to stop around him. ghost stopped trying to drag him away, the trees stopped blowing in the wind, he almost stopped breathing. the world pauses as the walls of the manor are engulfed in flames.

no.

johnny rips his arm out of ghost's grip and stumbles back towards the manor, his mind floating out of his body.

"no!" johnny wails, ignoring the heat on his face and taking a shaky step over the jagged stone and glass that crunches under his boot, "no! they're still–" his voice breaks, "they're still in there, for fucks sake!"

"johnny!" ghost shouts, grabbing him by the strap on the back of his vest and yanking him sharply away from the blaze. "they're gone." he mutters, purposefully avoiding soap's glassy eyes.

"shut the fuck up!" he cries, thumping his fist against ghost's chest and clawing at the arm holding him back. the tears spill from his eyes hard and fast, constricting his throat and blurring his vision.

he falls to his knees with his head in his hands and ghost lets him, the debris that litters the ground sharp against his flesh, but nothing compared to the pain in his chest.

it wasn't supposed to go like this.

you were supposed to come back, and he was supposed to take you out and give you a perfect date and he'd kiss you at the end of the night and now he'd never get to do any of that because–

you're gone. slipped through his fingers like sand into the ocean.

"c'mon, johnny." he hears ghost mutter, his voice distant even though he's right there, pulling him to stand by his arm. "let's regroup."

he doesn't struggle this time, shaking himself free of his lieutenant's grip and shuffling past him with his head hanging low. if there was a god, he's sure they're laughing at him by now. it all felt like some kind of cruel joke; give him hope by granting him someone to love after all these lonely years, and then rip you out of his arms before he can know the happiness you would bring him.

he and ghost don't get far before he hears the lieutenant stop in his tracks, but he doesn't care to know why, the hollow feeling in his chest won't allow him to.

"the dog…" ghost utters from behind him, an air of disbelief in his monotone voice. johnny freezes, a cold dread travelling up his spine as he hears the unmistakable sound of rex's claws padding towards them.

he turns slowly on his heel, fresh tears welling up in his eyes.

your dog is standing in front of him.

"rex…?" he calls softly, taking in the dust and ash and dirt and blood caked into his rich brown fur, illuminated by the fire still raging. rex barks, tilting his head like he's confused, and johnny falls to his knees again, uncaring for the way the rubble tears through his trousers and his skin. "no, no no no no–"

rex is alone. you're not with him. he doesn't go anywhere without you, and that can only mean one thing.

the confirming thought alone shatters the dam completely.

the sobs wrack his body and johnny gathers rex into his arms, hugging him tightly to his chest, burying his face into his thick fur despite the filth that coats the both of them. he whimpers and whines in johnny's ear, and the sound only makes his heart hurt even more.

a few months ago he never would've dreamed he'd be hugging a dog, but you changed that; you'd helped him work on his fear, and even if rex was the only one he could tolerate, it was still leagues better than what he could accomplish without you.

but now you’re gone, and neither of them have you to fall back on.

johnny sinks his fingers deep into rex's fur, sniffling pathetically because he may have lost you, but your canine lost his entire world and he would never understand where you went, why you left him all alone, why you weren’t coming back.

rex begins to wriggle in his arms, and soap knows he wants him to let go but he can't bring himself to. this dog is all he has left of you now; he would take care of your beloved canine, it doesn't matter if he was still terrified in the back of his mind.

after a painful few minutes, jonny regains the awareness to remember where they are and the fact that ghost is still watching him break down with the dog in his arms. with a trembling sigh, he loosens his hold on rex and pulls back, wiping a dusty hand over his eyes.

as he pushes himself to stand rex barks again, startling johnny with a jolt of panic before bounding back the way he came, away from him and ghost.

johnny frowns. "hey, don't run," he mutters, ambling after the canine as he pads backwards. every time johnny gets close, rex slips just out of reach before he can grab him.

ghost sighs, but allows him to go after the dog, keeping a watchful eye on them as they get further away.

the way he was running along and looking back to make sure johnny was following reminded him a worrying amount of how he acted in his training. the training where you would hide a dummy for him and johnny would reward him with treats when he led you to the fake body.

"no, no rex," except this time, the body wouldn't be fake. "please, boy, just come back…"

rex doesn't react to his pleading, determined to lead him to what johnny knows he’s found, but desperately wants to deny anyway. he tries to stop, to turn back and never have to face the reality of you being gone, but the canine won't let him. he takes johnny's trousers between his razor teeth and growls, deep and threatening, as he tries to pull him along.

the sound makes johnny freeze, fear clawing at the back of his mind as an instinctual reaction, but he blinks hard and pushes through it. "alright, i'm comin'..."

rex lets go once he’s sure he’ll follow again, trotting ahead with the occasional check behind him to make sure johnny was still there. he follows the canine past the rubble, through the treeline, and into the underbrush where the sick feeling in his throat only grows stronger.

he doesn't bother with the night vision goggles. the fire provides enough waving light for him to just about see where he’s going, and he really has no desire to see what rex is guiding him to.

johnny almost trips over him when the canine comes to an abrupt stop, his wide eyes trained on a bush to johnny’s left.

the dread pooling in his stomach becomes suffocating.

"wh…?" he swallows thickly, crouching down to rex's level and placing a hand on his back, feeling his laboured breath that matches his own. "...whatchya got, boy?"

rex barks and noses at the branches of the bush, before stepping backwards a few paces and looking expectantly between johnny and the shrub.

johnny stares at the bush. no amount of training could've prepared him for the terror he feels imagining what he’ll find on the other side of it. as if sensing his hesitation, rex barks again to spur him on, but it only makes his heart sink further.

his hand shakes as he reaches for the branches. there's a stutter in his heartbeat, a hitch in his breath, as he pushes them aside to reveal–

"bleedin' fuckin' jesus–" johnny cries, jumping through the foliage to couch over your weakened form, forgetting his fear all together as he ruffles rex's fur with both hands and a breaking smile when he barks again. "oh good boy rex! good boy, fuckin' hell!"

it's you, blood and ash smeared across your skin and your chest rises and falls in shallow breaths, and johnny's just so happy you're alive he can't think to be afraid when rex snaps at his hands in a misdirected effort to protect you. he presses both hands against the slice in your abdomen, using the few medical supplies in his vest to help stop the bleeding as the tears being to well again.

"shit, stay with me, hun, i've got ye…" he mumbles, putting all his weight onto your stomach. "ghost! help me!"

the rest is a blur.

they carry you to the helicopter, rex barking protectively between their legs the whole way until he can lay on guard between your legs on take off.

when they finally touch down back at base, johnny has to grab rex by the vest so the medics can carry you out, wrestling him away as he barks and whines in protest. johnny stays with the canine while you're in surgery and for the days you're asleep, making sure he's fed and allowing him to sleep in his room so he won’t be alone – despite how uncomfortable it makes him, and how little sleep he gets because of it.

it's four days until you wake up.

he's not the first to find out, but as soon as the words reach his ears he’d racing down the corridors and bursting through the infirmary doors with enough intensity to make you jump out of your skin. the sight of you sitting up and talking to price almost has his eyes watering again, but he pushes that urge down.

he approaches your bed more carefully, a wobbly smile pulling at his lips under your warm gaze. with an understanding look, price is patting him on the shoulder as he passes by and leaving the two of you alone with each other.

"aren't you a sight for sore eyes," johnny grins, taking a seat in the chair next to your bed and grasping your hand in his. a smile lifts your features as he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss there as a heat rises in his cheeks.

"i could say the same, my knight in shining armour." you reply, moving your hand to cradle the side of his head and smoothing your thumb over his brow. he revels in the contact, the tension bleeding from his muscles under your touch. "where's rex?"

"he's fine, i made sure." he reassures you, and you let out a sigh of relief at his words, visibly relaxing into the pillows holding you up. "tried sneakin' him in here, but the nurses wouldn't have it."

a laugh escapes you, the sound still managing to make his heart feel light, even all these months later. "can't imagine why," you tease, gently nudging his head as he chuckles along with you.

it feels like a weight is lifted from his shoulders, finally having you with him again. his eyes flutter shut as the relief washes over him, and a minute passes where neither of you speak, simply basking in each other's presence.

there's a scratching sound at the door that interrupts the peace and quiet, and the two of you share a knowing smile. not a moment later, the door is being pulled open just enough for rex to slip through and skid towards your bed on the linoleum floor, wagging his tail at breakneck speed.

before the door can completely close, johnny catches a glimpse of gaz’s mischievous grin and groans, but he doesn't have time to yell at him before he’s out of sight and rex is distracting him by leaping onto your bed.

you wheeze as your canine braces his paws on your chest and begins his assault on your face, licking every inch of skin he can reach with a series of excited chuffs and narrowly missing johnny’s head with his swinging tail.

"hi rex! you saved my life, didn’t you boy?" you giggle, affectionately ruffling his fur and planting kisses of your own on his face. "who’s a good boy? who’s the best sniffer dog ever?"

johnny clears his throat, drawing your attention to him as you cuddle rex to your chest. "i don’t want’a blow my own horn here, but i saved yer life too…" he gives you that lopsided grin, a playful glint in his eyes that makes you laugh again.

"you want some pets too?" you chuckle, reaching over and dragging his head over to you by a hand on the back of his neck. "good job, johnny, you’re a good boy too." you coo, pressing your lips to his forehead and the tip of his nose as you ruffle his mohawk like rex’s fur.

the effect is immediate. his cheeks burn again with a striking red blush, and he chokes on his breath in bashful embarrassment under your ministrations. he hopes you haven't noticed his reaction, but the way your laugh bubbles up again he can tell you’ve caught on.

"i think i like that more than i should, bonnie." he mutters, pressing his forehead against yours and allowing his eyes to flutter shut. you hum sweetly, your warm breath fanning over his face.

"don’t short circuit on me yet, soap, you still owe me a date."

tagging: @cheezbites

New headcanons: Soap and Gaz are nosey as hell LMAO

‘𝐼 𝐿𝐼𝒦𝐸 𝒴𝒪𝒰𝑅 𝒢𝐼𝑅𝐿𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝒩𝒟 𝒮𝐼𝑅’ / Simon Riley x Female! Reader

Summary: After weeks of guessing what Ghost’s girlfriend would do for work they finally find out when they meet you, much to Ghost’s dismay.

Ghost had, had it.

He was dumb enough to answer a call from you in front of Soap and Gaz, not thinking anything of it but he was wrong.

The little shits had been non stop attempting to guess what his girlfriend looked like and what she would do for a work for nearly the whole week now.

Tuesday:

‘A goth maybe!’ Soap shouted out of nowhere

‘Oh you’re right there mate! Goth girls are fit!’

‘Can you pricks stop playing guess who and keep your fucking mouths shut.’

Wednesday:

‘Sir is your girlfriend a therapist?’ Gaz inquired.

‘Oh yeah! Maybe that’s how they met.’

‘Soap keep your fucking mouth shut.’

Thursday:

‘Oh! I know! She’s a teacher!’

‘You’ve cracked it!’ Ghost replied with fake enthusiasm.

‘Really?

‘No. Keep your eyes on the fucking road.’

It was now Friday, the squad had bagged a weekend off and were eager to get their work done so they could fully relax. And of course, Simon stupidly left his files at home.

So when he’d asked you to bring them to him he made sure to tell you to come through the back entrance (to avoid Soap and Gaz) but of course they were the first two you saw when you entered the building.

‘Why hello there miss! What can I do for you?’

You awkwardly smiled, ‘Um I’ve just brought these in for my boyfriend he forgot them at home.’

Soap took a look at the files and his heart dropped. There were some fucked up things in those files why would your boyfriend just let you have them?

‘Whose the lucky guy? And why would he let you see those?’

You laughed, ‘Simon Riley. And trust me I’ve seen worse.’

‘Oh my fucking god! Gaz!’

The man named Gaz turned around from where he was standing. ‘What.’

The man with the Mohawk repeatedly pointed at you with a big smile on his face. ‘Ghosts girlfriend!’

Gaz immediately ran over to you and started asking you a million questions.

‘You guys are very sweet -in a way but can you just tell me where Simon is and I’ll answer your questions.’

Soap grabbed your hand and dragged you to Ghosts office as quick as he could because he wanted to get answers immediately.

When Ghost looked up he groaned.

Was he happy to see you? Without a doubt

Was he happy to see you with his very inquisitive co workers? No comment.

‘Simon, I have your files.’ you said handing them to him

‘Thanks love.’ He replied pulling out a chair for you to join him at his desk.

You both awkwardly turned to Gaz and Soap as they were just stood there staring at the two of you smirking.

‘You two. Out.’

‘Yes sir.’ Gaz said immediately going to walk out but Soap held the door handle.

‘Sir I will never bother you ever again-‘

‘I find that hard to believe.’ He interrupted and you laughed.

‘Just please let me ask her one question.’

He rolled his eyes

‘That’s fine with me but ask Y/n first.’

Soap looked to you and you nodded. ‘Ask away mate.’

‘What do you do for work?’

Ghost scoffed and you looked at him confused but still answered.

‘I’m a forensic pathologist.’

They gave you a blank expression.

‘I do autopsies, collect evidence from crime scenes to do tests on.’

They finally picked up on it.

‘Oh my god! That’s so cool.’

Gaz was all ears, ‘What’s the most fucked up thing you’ve seen.’

‘One question lad.’ Ghost said gesturing to the door.

You laughed. ‘This won’t be the last you’ll see of me boys, Laswell actually requested my help for this mission so don’t worry you can ask me more questions.’

When Gaz and Soap finally left you turned to your boyfriend.

‘They’re sweet.’

‘Are they?’

‘Oh don’t lie you love them really.’

At the end of the day, Ghost walked you to the exit and waved you goodbye.

‘See you when you get home! Love you.’ You said

‘Love you too.’ He replied and as soon as he turned around his two friends stood eagerly behind him.

The pair were laughing and smiling untill they noticed the look their mate was giving them.Gaz was now shitting himself and didn’t want to dig his grave any further but Soap tried to sweet talk him.

‘I like your girlfriend sir. You did well she’s… wow.’

‘Shut up Soap fucking hell.’

(Mick and Stacy Thomson. Mick reminds me of ghost in a way.)

A Dreadful News

Figured that posting mostly incorrect quotes of our lovely Task Force 141 and Los Vaqueros (+ El Sin a.k.a cartel momm– I mean Valeria Garza) is too easy. So I figured to do something new to challenge myself.

Also, this is my first time(ish) to do a full paragraph story/image/one shot/whateverthisis. So the explanation of the actions or the plot of the story may or may not confuse you.

This is gender neutral by the way. Happy reading.

Oh and by the way, be ready to cringe because English is not my mother tongue.

—

The Task Force 141 fortunately finished a successful mission. They have carefully eliminated the threat that could’ve doom half of the living things on Earth. To celebrate their hard work, all Task Force 141 members, including Laswell, decided to throw a picnic lunch party somewhere in a park. (Y/n) recommended a park, a particularly park where they always go for their daily run before going on a mission.

When (Y/n) first discovered the park, they were surprised of how It looked so undisturbed. As if no one has been there before. Because of this, (Y/n) found this park suitable for a rowdy, yet lovable, bunch.

Soap thought that he was to arrive first as the park seems to be empty. Heck, he even thought he went to the wrong park. But as it turns out, he was in the right park and that (Y/n) was already there. As he gets closer to the early bird, Soap smiled and raised a hand to greet them but stopped himself as he sees the serious expression that they have on their face.

(Y/n)’s elbows are on their lap, mimicking a pillar. Their hands were locked together and are used to bury their nose. Soap furrowed his brows, wondering what could be bothering them. Being closer as he was before, Soap called out to them.

“Hey (N/n)!” Soap called out. Their head perked up.

What’s with the serious face? Thought that this was supposed to be a joyous day?” Soap said and stopped right next to them. (Y/n) sighed and closed their eyes, finally letting their hands down but still kept their elbows on their lap.

“Johnny boy,” (Y/n) replied, “you might want to sit down for this…”

And so he did.

*10 mins later*

Gaz thought that he was to arrive first as the park seems to be empty. Heck, he even thought he was on the wrong park. As it turns out, he was in the right park and that (Y/n) and Soap were already there. As he gets closer to the early birds, Soap smiled and raised a hand to greet them but stopped himself as he sees the serious expression that they have on their face.

(Y/n)’s elbows were on their lap, mimicking a pillar. Their hands were locked together and are used to bury their nose. Soap’s posture copied them. Gaz furrowed his brows, wondering what could be bothering them. Being closer as he was before, Gaz called out to them.

“(Y/n)! Soap!“ Gaz called out. The two’s head perked up.

“What’s wrong? Thought that this was supposed to be a joyous day?” Gaz said and stopped right next to them. Soap sighed and closed his eyes, finally letting his hands down but still kept his elbows on his lap.

“Well Gaz, you might want to sit down for this.” Soap said.

And so he did.

*5 mins later*

“Where are they?” Price, Ghost, and Laswell walked through the park. The food felt heavy on their hands. (Y/n) had gone ahead with the paper plates, plastic spoons, forks, and cups.

“Are we even on the right park?” Price questioned as he looked around the empty park.

“Well, this is the address (Y/n) sent,” Laswell said putting her phone on her pocket “We should look further.”

Price and Ghost nodded and continued to go further the park. Finally, they see the three troublemakers. Surprisingly, they weren’t goofing around as they always been when they were put together. Instead, the three were sitting on a bench with a serious expression. Their elbows were on their lap, mimicking a pillar. Their hands were locked together and are used to bury their nose.

This worried Price. He didn’t want to admit it, but he prefer to see them goof around than being serious. Even after a successful mission.

“(Y/n)! Soap! Gaz!” Price called out. The three’s head perked up.

“Why are you three looks so serious?” The captain questioned as he stopped right next to the three. Ghost and Laswell behind him.

Gaz sighed and closed his eyes, finally letting his hands down but still kept his elbows on his lap. His head dipped between his shoulders, avoiding eye contact.

“Well, captain, you might want to sit down for this.” Gaz said, his head still dipped between his shoulders.

Price looked behind him. Making an eye contact with Ghost and Laswell. Laswell shrugged while Ghost stood there, they were worried as well but didn’t want to show it. Price nodded and sat down on the empty space next to Gaz, putting the warm goodies on his lap.

As he sat down, he could’ve swore that the two beside Gaz snorted but was covered by coughing.

“Well,” Price insisted “Get on with it.”

Gaz cleared his throat

“The bench is freshly painted…”

Silence

The captain was flabbergasted. Laswell was amused, but hid her expression by looking away. Ghost pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering a ‘fuckin’ hell’ under his breath. (Y/n), Soap, and Gaz.. Well.. They’re breathing heavily to avoid from laughing, the sound of snorting could be heard from them from the attempt.

End Point

Bonus

“RUN AWAY!” (Y/n) shouted while laughing

Soap and Gaz followed behind them, laughing as well.

“GET YOUR BLOODY ASSES BACK HERE NOW!” Price shouted, chasing after them.

Laswell and Ghost stayed behind to set up the food, enjoying the energy that the three had created. They needed the laugh.

“HAVE MERCY ON US, CAPTAIN!”

—

The fresh painted bench is base on a incorrect quote

ANGEL — John Price x Reader x Simon Riley

WC: 6,048 | Part I

Deep down, you knew Simon's way of telling you it's over between you was the moment he gave you his captain's number. Every single message you left Simon was left unanswered, not even opened most of the time, leaving you hoping that perhaps he was simply busy with his missions.

His deployments are oftentimes stressful from what you saw every time he came back home to you, yet you stopped convincing yourself everything was alright after 7 weeks of no contact. Simon Riley is not a coward— not unless it comes to feelings. You're too good for someone like him, someone who could drop dead at any moment, whose only achievements come from killing, forever tainting his hands with blood he can't seem to wash off no matter how many long showers he takes.

He rationalized for months, thought about it— thought about leaving you, too. Yet that lost puppy look of pure trust you gave him every single time he fucked into you, pretty moans leaving your parted lips and soft hands exploring his clothed body, desperately wanting to feel his bare skin against yours, something he never had the heart to give you. Too tainted, too scarred, too ugly. So like a broken man wanting to keep you safe, he did the best with what he had, leaving his captain's number on your night table the moment he was done cumming.

Over 2 months later, Simon still remembers the feeling of your warm skin beneath his lips, the look of pure vulnerability and love plastered on your face, so angelic and pretty, a sheer contrast to the nervousness on his, despite how natural it was to treat you with a tenderness he's never had with anyone in his entire life.

“He fell from a helicopter?” Crinkled eyes meet yours from across the table, taking a sip of his drink before letting out a dry chuckle, nodding his head.

“Aye, hangin' from a bloody rope. Had me scared, thinkin' I lost my Sergeant.” John said with a grin, his gaze softening at the way you were listening so intently, your full attention on him no matter how boring he thought his stories were.

“Is he scared of getting into helicopters again?” You lean a bit closer to him, your chin resting on your hand as you look up at him. From this angle, you're able to admire John's features from up-close. Every single grey hair adorning his beard, his crow's feet, the tiny beauty mark on his nose, the tiny spots on his face, likely gotten from spending a long time under the sun as a soldier from a young age.

“Of course. Took him a while to trust our pilots again, now he always double checks his gear's on right.” Price always pays attention to detail, the way your pupils dilate the longer you stare at him don't go unnoticed in the slightest. He asks a passing waitress for a check, not even giving you a second to offer to pay for your half before his card is already in her hands, going away to charge him for the dinner and drinks.

“And how's… what was his name again? Soap?” He smirks at the mild confusion when using Johnny's callsign, likely assuming it's simply a sex innuendo.

“Soap, yeah. He's a good kid, kind o' like the son I never had.” That gets your attention, looking away for a second to hold back a small smirk before looking back up at him, eyebrows raised.

“You don't have children?” That earns a small chuckle out of him, shaking his head at the question. He gave the waitress a small smile as she came back with his card, pocketing it and getting up from his chair, offering his arm up to you. There's no hesitation as you hook your arm with his, walking to his car.

“Never had girlfriends after joining the SAS. Became a captain at a young age, too.” He looks down at you as you walk, admiring your pretty features, secretly wondering how Simon could have fucked up that badly— how he let such a lovely and sweet girl go. He opens the car door for you, even going as far as to help you put on your seatbelt, letting you have a whiff at his woody cologne, the smell of smoke from cigars mixing in.

“What about you? Any children?” He asks teasingly, shooting you a playful grin before starting the car, blue eyes fully focused on the road. Unlike Simon, Price knows how to drive well, making you feel safe while on the road.

“Hell no. I've been… thinking about it, but men my age were never interested in that.” Even if he was much older, Simon was never even an option. Too emotionally unavailable, too fucked up to even consider having children.

“Part of the reason I like older men.” Your voice is smooth and even, a sheer contrast to the slight knot of nervousness tightening in your stomach, only coming undone when you hear his amused laugh.

Price's calloused palm rests on the gear shift before daring to move it over to your thigh, running up and done slowly, trying to heat up your cold skin rather than doing it to be a pervert, yet your body still reacts to his touch, warmth pooling on your lower stomach.

“Really, sweetheart?” Price isn't stupid in the slightest, yet unlike Simon, his actions aren't malicious. He simply wants to see you squirm, finding pure amusement in the laugh you both share and the playful slap you give to his arm.

“Stop using your charm on me.” You scold jokingly, unable to hide the big grin taking over your pretty face.

“I'm charming now, eh?” His grip tightens on your inner thigh, applying just enough pressure to tease you.

“According to Simon, you always have.” That makes one of his thick eyebrows raise questioningly, his lips pulling into an amused smile.

“I've known him for a long time, y'know? Back when we I was an LT.” He can't help but allow his mind to go back into the past as he drives, images of the eager Simon Riley, a broken man who simply wanted to change the world, who always helped without even asking for much in return.

“Has be always been… like that?” You ask after a few seconds of silence, allowing yourself to be the cat curiosity killed.

“No.” The Simon Riley he met was not similar to Ghost in the slightest.

“He was 'round 19 when I met him. Better than any recruits I've seen.” Yet still teased by his mates for being an apprentice butcher in the past, for being so rigid and basing his entire life on discipline, unlike the many other young soldiers who have since passed.

“I bet. He has that certain look on him, you know? The eyes. I wouldn't want to mess with him.” Price lets out a dry chuckle, nodding his head in agreement. Part of him is glad that he's been working with Simon because it seems that to know more about you, he needs to know about Simon as well.

“We're here, doll.” He parks the car, getting out of his seat and opening the door for you, his calloused hand resting on your lower back, guiding you to your house. You can feel the warmth from his hand spreading all over your body, soothing rubs up and down your back as you walk.

“Would you like a cuppa?” Mirth dances in his eyes at the audacity, already knowing your intentions, and yet.

“Of course.” Price follows after you, part of him growing excited by whatever you have in mind. Your slightly shaky hands fiddle with the keys before you're able to open the door, secretly thankful that you cleaned up your mess earlier in the day.

“What tea would you like?” You ask, turning around just in time to see Price finishing the once-over he was giving you.

“This isn't about tea, is it, darlin'?” He asks with a knowing smile, his jacket slipping out of his shoulders now that you're both inside the house. Blown pupils stare back at him, taking your time to admire the strong body hugged by his tight black shirt. You can see his bulging muscles, broad shoulders fully relaxed as he steps forward, towering over you. A monument of sorts when you're small.

“If I'm lucky, I hope not.” Your breathy voice was all Price needed as reassurance. His lips crash against yours, warm hands gripping your waist tight enough for you to feel the warmth spreading all over your lower body. The smell and taste of cigar smoke overwhelms your senses, too enthralled by the feeling of his tongue wrapping around yours, a small moan leaving your lips the moment his hand trails down to your ass, groping you with care, as if you're made of glass.

“How far do you wanna go?” His forehead leans against yours as his blown pupils stare back at you, his chest rising up and down with each breath.

“As far as you want to.” A small yelp leaves your lips when he lifts you in his arms, your legs instantly wrapping around his strong, muscular waist.

“Bedroom's there.” You don't even need to point— Price can see the open door, so enticing and tempting, allowing your small giggle to consume his whole soul like a siren's song. With carefulness that contrasts the brutality he uses as a soldier, Price sets you down in bed, strong arms on each side of your head, caging you in.

Your breaths mingle together as he leans down to kiss you again, warm tongues wrapping around the other, using his knee to spread your legs enough for his burly body to fit, subtly grinding against your clothed cunt.

“Been wantin' to do this for a long while.” Ever since Simon showed him your profile picture on WhatsApp, introducing you as a friend in need. He wouldn't dare confess it to anyone, not with the way his calloused hand rubbed his cock until it almost hurt, using your pretty face as a relief from the stress of war.

“Pretty fuckin' girl.” He praised, dragging a giggle out of you the moment his beard started tickling your neck, gentle kisses planted all over your warm, sensitive skin, his tongue darting past his lips to give your neck a tantalizing lick.

He can feel your hands exploring his strong body, his muscles bulging and tensing up beneath your soft palms. He only breaks apart the moment your hands go to the hem of his shirt, helping you pull it off of his body, the piece of clothing discarded on the floor.

“God…” Your whisper holds nothing but pure admiration, catching hints of his strong, muscular body, dark hair covering most of it. Your hand drifts up to his torso, caressing his surprisingly soft skin, not minding the scars you can feel beneath your hand. Price has been shot, stabbed, tortured, left for dead— his body acting as a keepsake of every mission gone wrong.

His gaze is soft as he stares down at you, holding a tenderness unlike a man like him, so naturally gentle and willing to show it without the walls guarding his heart— unlike Simon. His calloused hand rubs your thigh before drifting up to the hem of your blouse, carefully pushing it up and removing it with your help.

“Pretty girl.” His back bends slightly as his gentle lips now go to your bare stomach, planting a rapid-fire of kisses all over the soft skin, descending with each passing second, lifting your skin up to reveal your clothed cunt.

“I'll take care of you.” And he means every single word. Captain Price is a bad man, a bad man with a high kill-count and multiple war crimes to his name, yet John Price is a different story— caring and loving, so willing to fix something he didn't even break.

His eyes close the moment his lips connect to your mound, tongue darting out to get a taste at all he's been craving the moment he saw you. He lets out a small groan as the taste of your slickness overwhelms his senses, his hands roaming up and down your waist, daring to sneak past your bra, finally getting a good feel at your tits.

John is a starved man. A starved man whose only salvation is you, looking so pretty and sweet, panties wet with a mix of his saliva and your own slick. He's careful and gentle, pulling down your panties with both hands and dropping them on the floor, his breath catching in his throat when his gaze drifts down to your pussy, glistening under the light of your bedroom.

He doesn't waste any time, lowering himself again between your legs, licking a trail from your tight hole, to your swollen clit. Your legs try to close out of instinct, a whiny moan making its way out of your lips at the sensation of his beard against your cunt.

“Open your legs, love.” He whispered, running his thumb over your hard bud.

“Let daddy taste you.” He kisses your inner thigh before diving back in, licking and sucking on your clit, trying his best to make you feel good. Your moans are too pretty, your cunt too sweet, and Price can feel himself starting to lose control. His cock throbbed, his own desire growing stronger by the second, focusing solely on your pleasure.

“That's my good girl.” He whispered against your skin, sliding two thick fingers inside you. You're soaking wet yet still so tight, only making his desire grow, desperately needing to be inside you. Your whiny moans fuel him, his warm tongue flickering against your hardened clit faster and faster, mixing in with his sucking, his thick fingers curling inside your needy cunt.

Your hands run through his short hair, pulling at it softly to release some of the pleasure building in, the familiar knot in your stomach tightening up with each lick. Your chest rises up and down with each long, labored breath, muscles tensing up as the knot in your stomach finally comes undone, pushing his face closer to your cunt as his fingers move in and out, dragging out your orgasm.

He pulls his fingers out of you slowly, his blue eyes connecting with yours as he licks his fingers clean from your cum, your heart thudding loudly inside your chest.

“Fuck me.” That breathy whisper was all he needed, getting up only to slip out of his pants and boxers, his dick standing proudly. Despite being uncircumcised, you can see his dark pink tip, leaking precum like a broken faucet. Now that he's standing, he takes his time to admire your bare body, his blue eyes going to your tits when you take off your bra.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, yeah?” The option is always there, and he wants you to know. His knees sink into the mattress as he supports his body on top of yours with one hand, lining his hard cock with your entrance, pausing for a moment.

“Let me love you.” He whispered hoarsely, slipping into you gently despite his primal instincts telling him otherwise. He lets out a loud groan the moment your tight walls grip his throbbing cock, his face finding shelter on the crook of your neck. A small hiss makes its way out of your lips as your legs wrap on his hips, pushing him closer and deeper, allowing him to finally bottom out.

“Bloody hell— you're so tight.” He moans out, his thrusts growing faster as you get used to his thickness. He looks down at you, his eyes filled with desire and adoration, longing dancing within. John's lips part as he feels your long nails dragging down his back, driving him crazy with pure need.

“I'm close.” He whispers out, his hips ramming against you with increasing urgency, reaching out to caress one of your soft tits. He plants open-mouthed kisses all over your neck and chest, his breath warm against your sweaty skin.

“Cum inside.” John's eyes widen at your words, his dominant nature taking over as his hands go down to grip your hips firmly in place, the overwhelming desire and pleasure clouding his judgement, drowning out any concerns. His thrusts are deep and powerful, making you his with an unyielding force.

As he loses himself in the heat of the moment, John's muscles tense up, the familiar feeling of pure heat pooling up within him, slamming himself as deep inside you as he can before his cock starts throbbing, shooting ropes of cum with each pulse. His breath is heavy as he slowly pulls out of you, his gaze fixated on the mess of mixed fluids that coats your pretty cunt.

“My pretty girl.” He whispers out, burly arms wrapping around your body, pulling you closer to his hairy chest, allowing you to hear his fast-beating heart. His lips are gentle against your forehead, wanting nothing more than to relax with you after the intense love-making. His actions are nothing short of genuinely caring and loving, wanting to give you good aftercare, all thoughts of Simon finally out of your head.

“Want me to run you a bath?” Price asks in a whisper, planting one last kiss on your forehead before looking down, just to see your chest moving up and down slowly, eyes closed and lips slightly parted, pulling you closer to his warm, naked body so you can sleep better, deciding to get some well-deserved rest as well.

The smell of eggs and tea is what you woke up to in the morning, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. The feeling of large fabric keeping your body warm makes you look down, just realizing that John put his large shirt on your body when you were sleeping, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips as you get up from bed, making your way to the kitchen.

“Good mornin'.” John turns around for a second, blue eyes lighting up when he's greeted by a big smile and his shirt dwarfing your body, giving you a small wink before he's back to finishing your breakfast. You take your time to admire him, so naturally handsome and masculine, his hairy, strong body only having his boxers on.

“Thanks, daddy.” You quip teasingly as he hands you the plate, a small squeal leaving your lips when he starts to chase you around the house, shared laughs ringing around.

Dating John is a sheer contrast to any expectations you had when you first got into the relationship. Despite the fact that he's often away during missions, he has scheduled delivers for flowers and your favorite foods, calling with you the moment he's available.

“What are you doin'?” Price asks with a small smirk, his gaze softening the moment his eyes meet yours, your cheek resting on his strong thigh while he was trying to complete a report. His hand goes to your head out of pure muscle memory, giving your scalp a soft massage.

“I like you from this angle.” He lets out a small chuckle, moving his leg to make your position more comfortable as you nuzzle his leg, your chin now resting on it as you adjust your knees on the floor.

“You like me in every angle.” A grin spreads on his face, his calloused hand running down the length of your hair before resting on your back, massaging the muscles tenderly.

“True, but specially from this one.” The cheeky smile you throw his way does nothing other than to distract him further from his report of the latest mission, cupping your cheek to examine your pretty features better under the light of the room, mirth dancing in his blue eyes.

“You're clingier than my shadow.” He teases, leaning forward until his lips meet yours in an affectionate kiss, not bothered by your clinginess in the slightest. He breaks away just to give your forehead a tender kiss, staring down at you lovingly. The look of pure trust and love your eyes hold drags him back to one of the many late night conversations with Simon back at base.

“Y'like her?” Simon finally dares to ask, ignoring the growing pain on his lower stomach at the idea of you dating John, even if it was Simon's idea.

“Do you?” Price quips, already knowing the reply. There's been more than one occasion where he saw Simon stare at your WhatsApp profile picture, even if your number was deleted— he still keeps your messages, using it as an odd way of finding comfort despite the growing self-loathing from hurting you.

“You know I don't do that.” There's hints of regret spilling along Simon's deep voice, his bare fingers drumming on the cup of tea on his hand.

“Do what?” He already knows the answer, and yet.

“Love. 'M gonna get the poor girl killed.” Memories of Christmas haunt him even years later, his mind momentarily taken back to coming home just to find his entire family dead. All that blood, yet all his shattered mind was able to do was laugh even as he held a gun to his mouth.

“She'll be fine, Simon. The girl knows how to handle herself. Hell, I'm getting her a better security system soon, too.” Despite being in a committed relationship with you, John knows Simon well enough to know he still likes you, in his own way. He's seen Simon break down, seen the worst and the best of him, and eventually got to see the way he built himself back up, coming back to the SAS as Ghost.

“Wha'? You want me to date her, too?” Even if he asked it as a joke, Price's silence and the subtle shrug of his shoulders speaks louder than words.

“I know what you've been through, son. Think about it, you mean a lot to the bird.” John empties the rest of his tea down the sink, giving Simon one last pat on the shoulder before walking out of the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

“I'll go get it.” John is brought back to reality with the soft knocks on the entrance door, tilting his head up as you plant a kiss on his cheek. You make your way up to the door, your heart beating inside your chest when you look through the peephole, a familiar pair of dead brown eyes staring back. There's slight hesitation as your hand goes to the doorknob, resting there for a few seconds before you decide to open the door.

“Simon?” Despite the dark hoodie over his head, you can tell he hasn't been doing well, his skin looking more pale than usual, dark eyebags making him resemble more a raccoon than a man.

“'M sorry.” He mutters, hands deep inside the pockets of his jacket, lowering his gaze with nothing but pure shame.

“That's it?” Your guarded tone makes a part of him feel proud that you're not a doormat anymore.

“No. I'm sorry for… ignoring you, and for being a cunt.” His gaze finally meets yours. You can see the shame, the regret, and the pain.

“I was scared.” I wish I could tell you I survive out there because I don't want to leave you yet. Your lips part, though you decide to be quiet for now.

“I don't know if I'll ever be able to tell you why this shite happened.” Despite the way his hands are fidgeting inside his pockets, he's trying his best to be as honest as possible while avoiding dumping his trauma on you.

“That's bollocks, mate.” Price's voice almost scares the soul out of you, turning around to shoot him an exasperated look. For a man his size, he moves with surprising quietness. You can feel his burly arms wrap around your lower body, bringing you closer to him.

“Give 'er a proper apology.” Despite the hesitation Simon feels, the space Price left open for him is all he needs. You can feel another pair of arms wrapping around your body, the familiar scent of cheap fags and gun powder hitting your nose, bringing you back to all those nights you shared.

It's an awkward hug, a mess of limbs and warmth that you finally decide to take in, your arms wrapping around Simon's narrow waist, bringing his body closer to you despite the way his muscles tense up at the sudden contact. You can feel him relax with your touch, his cheek resting against the top of your head.

“'M sorry.” He repeats in a whisper, his cold face finding shelter on the warm crook of your neck, the urge to kiss you again growing stronger by the second, though he remains respectful. You can feel John's cock starting to harden against your ass, making you look up and give him a confused look. His hand goes up to grip your jaw softly, his lips crashing against yours as he starts to subtly grind against you, only making the confusion grow.

Simon's hold on your body tightens, the familiar sensation of his lips against your neck drags a small moan out of you, muffled in John's mouth. His tongue wraps around yours, your breathing growing more labored by the second, soft hands curling on Simon's muscular back, barely able to hear the door closing until you decide to break away from the kisses.

“What's going on?” The nervous laugh that leaves your lips is only met by a reassuring look coming from Price, his calloused hand running up and down your side.

“Part o' the apology you deserve, love.” You don't even have time to answer— not when Simon's rough lips meet yours, the kiss nothing but a pure display of love and affection. Even a ghost can be a lovely thing when you want it to be.

You can feel John's calloused hands drift down to the pajama shorts you're wearing, sneaking a few squeezes on your ass before his hand sneaks past your panties, using two of his fingers to feel your wet cunt, spreading your slick all over. His lips are now busy on your pretty neck, licking and sucking freely, not caring about any love bites he leaves— he knows you don't mind either.

You can hear his hard breathing against your tender skin, your tongue dancing with Simon's, hands desperately sneaking under his shirt, groping his hard, defined muscles. You can feel the bulging scar on his ribs, caressing it with extra care just to show him every single part of his heavily scarred body is loved.

“I missed you.” Simon breaks away from the kiss only to whisper that in your ear, his rough hand already going up to your tit, squeezing the soft fat while all you can do is moan, the combined sensations of the strong men touching you does nothing but drive you closer to the edge, your wet walls tightening around John's fingers, forcing you to squeeze Simon's bicep to release some of the tension.

“Fuck, daddy—” Simon's breath hitches at your words despite knowing you're talking to John, his own cock throbbing at the slight whine in your tone. His hands go to your waist, holding you up as your eyes finally shut, your forehead resting on Simon's chest as John's fingers move faster and deeper inside you, lazily rubbing your clit with his thumb. Your knees start to buck, more whiny and louder moans leaving your lips as you cum all over his fingers, nails digging into Simon's arm.

“That's a good girl.” Price praises in a breathy whisper, delicately pulling his fingers out of your pulsating cunt, taking a second to admire the way his fingers glisten with your slick.

“Taste her.” Simon is a man with no shame. No shame at all, making eye contact with you as he starts to suck his captain's fingers, putting them in his mouth just to taste more of your sweet slick. The hungry wolf is reduced to a starving dog, a small groan leaving his lips the moment your taste is all over his tongue.

He pulls John's fingers out of his mouth once he finishes licking them clean, your mouth opening ajar when Simon's lips crash against his, your heart beating loudly inside your chest as you watch them kiss. You can see their tongues dancing together, sharing your sweet taste in a passionate kiss, Simon's grip tightening around your waist.

They break away after a few seconds, looking up just to be met by Simon's cheeky smirk. He pushes you further into the house, fingers intertwining with yours as he walks into the bedroom like he owns the place, yet in reality, it's simply something he's done way more times than he can count.

“Pretty fuckin' girl.” His hold is all but gentle as he lays down in bed, pulling you on his lap, allowing you to feel the way his hard cock bulges on his jeans, calloused hands going to your ass to make you grind against him, whiny moans leaving your lips at the friction against your sensitive cunt.

You can hear a zipper going down behind you, only making the excitement grow at the idea of seeing your boyfriend's bare body again— no matter how many times you've seen it already. Price's knees sink on the mattress, burly arms wrapping around your waist, grabbing one of your hands just to guide it to his hard cock. Your hands wrap around it, starting to rub him up and down slowly until his fingers join yours, speeding up the movement.

“Tell me you wanna fuck him.” His voice is a whispered command, a dominance you've never heard before— and one Simon has heard too many times during missions.

“I wanna fuck Simon.” You confess, your back pressing against John's strong, hairy chest as you jack him off, your soft palm rubbing against his sensitive tip, dragging a small grunt out of him as you smear his precum all over his throbbing cock. His free hand goes to your back, pushing you down against Simon as you let go of his cock with a small whine of protest.

Simon is desperate and needy— that much you can tell by the way he removes his clothes with an eagerness you've never seen before. You take your time to admire his strong body, pale skin tattered by scars, yet looking so alluring. You adjust your position as he tries to remove his pants, exchanging a small laugh at the awkward position you're in.

He looks more relaxed and honest than you've ever seen, his eyes crinkling as you're getting your shorts and panties pulled down by Price, finally resting your naked body on top of his. It's a new change of pace for both of you— Simon doesn't like to give up control, doesn't enjoy being dominated, it's too personal and vulnerable, yet for you? He's willing to try anything.

“Show him how you much you missed him.” John's soft command makes you nod your head, looking over your shoulder just to feel his lips against your back, his hand coming up to your jaw to turn your face back to Simon. Simon's calloused hand goes down to his throbbing, veiny cock, waiting until you lift your hips up to line himself up to your cunt, a low groan leaving his lips as your tight walls wrap around him, your back arching once he bottoms out.

“Fuck, Simon…” Your face rests against the crook of his neck, planting kisses all over his warm skin as he starts to fuck into you, the wet sounds of your sopping cunt and needy moans filling the room.

Simon's eyes are closed, fully taking in the sensation of finally having your naked body on his after so many months apart. His hands explore your body with familiarity, bringing one of your hands up to his face to make you cup his cheek, gentle kisses planted over and over on your thumb.

You're too far gone to notice John coming up from behind you, keeping you against Simon's body while his free hand rubs the lube all over his veiny cock, a small smirk pulling on the corners of his lips at how much you're both enjoying each other. You're dragged back to reality when you feel his tip pressing against your tight cunt, already full with Simon's cock.

“It's not going to—” Price pacifies you with another kiss on your bare, sweaty back, slowly pushing in.

“I'll make it fit.” He reassures, a deep moan leaving his lips once he manages to slip his thick tip inside you, giving you time to adjust to the sensation before slowly pushing the rest of his cock inside you, pausing once he bottoms out to give you a well-deserved break.

“Fuckin' hell.” Simon groans out, his face scrunching up at how much tighter your cunt feels now that you have two cocks inside you. His short nails lightly dig into your skin, already feeling so close to the edge despite the fact you're just getting started.

You let out a short exhale once they both start moving, cocks rubbing together inside your tight walls, the sensation of being stretched this much starting to feel better by the second, every single nerve inside your cunt being stimulated. You pull Simon for another kiss, feeling his hand coming up to the back of your head just to pull you closer, wanting to feel more of your tiny tongue licking his.

You're a mess of limbs— sweaty bodies colliding, feeling their muscles tightening up around your soft, smaller body. Simon's moans are muffled by your lips, not letting you pull away from the kiss in slight embarrassment at letting you hear the neediness seeping out of his tone.

Their hips move in a relentless rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins, forcing your back to arch, only giving them a better angle to fuck into you. Price's hands go up to your soft tits, squeezing and groping as he moves faster and deeper inside you, his breath hot against your ear.

“I'm… I'm gonna cum.” You manage to whisper between moans, muffled once again by Simon's rough lips. The overwhelming sensations build within you, the familiar sensation of your muscles tensing up and fingers tingling starts to grow stronger by the second, the intensity of your connection with both men driving you over the edge.

The sensation of one of their cocks hitting your cervix over and over makes you whine softly, muscles tensing up as they sandwich your bodies between them, finally letting go, your orgasm washing over you as your walls wrap tighter around their cocks, your fingers digging into Simon's skin. It doesn't take long for them to follow after you, fucking into you as deep as they can as they release a thick load into you, cocks pulsating with each rope they shoot.

They remain buried inside you for a moment, chests heaving as they try to catch their breaths. Price is the first one to pull out, watching as their combined cum seeps out of your spent pussy before he lays down next to Simon, your warm body being pulled to the side as Simon lays on his side, his cock still buried inside you even while he's softening.

“I love you.” He finally confesses, tired eyes meeting yours for a second before shutting again as Price embraces you from behind. Your leg is resting over Simon's body, making the position a lot more comfortable as you bring his face closer to your chest.

“I love you too. Both of you.” You whisper, tiredness slowly taking over your body, not even realizing that Simon is already asleep, his face buried on your soft tits. Price lets out a small chuckle, planting gentle kisses all over your warm back, his hands lightly gripping your stomach as a way to let you know he loves you, too.

TW: Smut, Fluff, Breeding, Praising, Size Kink (?) lmk if i miss anything. Chubby Reader Fics with No Skintone of Reader Mentioned.

-Dividers from @v6que

can you imagine having a husband or boyfriend who is a farmer boy? like he's all buff, beefy, and strong and stuff.. and every time he gets home and opens the door, one thing he always does is that he will always look for you first, then he will carry you up to his room, and fucked you for the rest of the day. he's a boy who always fucked you like you're some kind of whore of his, but he somehow -- praise you like a princess. he use his dick to get you to your place, but on the other hand he also use his words to make your heart flutter by saying how good you're doing for him, how you're his woman, and how are you, sooner or later, that you will for sure, will gave births to his 'mini me'. and by the end of the day, you're gonna be nothing but his Pretty Woman.

🍡

one of the things about a farmer boy that i really like to thoughts about is the fact that since he's (so) beef and buffy, he really like to just carry you, scooping you, and bump you into his shoulder while his hand leaning on your back, ignoring your whining and protest about how you're a heavy woman and that you've also beg him to let you down while he was just saying "oh come on baby,, its not that bad. i promise i'll gave you a sweet treats."

𐙚 The Men That I'm Talking About Are : NANAMI KENTO, BOKUTO KOUTARO, HOSHIGAKI KISAME, RENGOKU, Shiva, Sugawara, Toji, TENGEN, Iwaizumi, Geto Suguru, KUROO TETSURO, Jason Voorhees, Vincent Sinclair, THOMAS HEWITT, Eren Yeager, Bakugo, Wakatoshi Ushijima, KAKUCHO, KIRISHIMA, Gyomei, Sanemi, DOUMA, Akaza, Miguel O'Hara, Sanzu, KONIG, Price, Dabi, Yuuji, Choso, SAWAMURA DAICHI, terushima, SENJU HASHIRAMA, ARATAKI ITTO, AONE TAKANOBU, Semi eita, Kou mukami, YUMA MUKAMI, Akiteru Tsukishima, JIRAIYA, lev haiba.

DID I FORGET ANYONE? INSERT YOUR FAV!

Flirting with Death

"You know what, lass? I dare you to flirt with Ghost!"

"Soap... no. I'm either going to get my ass kicked now or later. I don't like either of those options."

"What if I... sweeten... the deal?"

That makes you pause for a second. "How so?"

"I'll convince Price to have you train with me instead of Ghost if this goes wrong!"

You lean onto one of your legs, "And this has nothing to do with the mission where you commented on my speed during the dummy shooting training?"

"Okay, maybe a little, but come on! You won't get your ass handed to you by a Brit, aye?"

"Fine... I'll do it," You start walking out of the gym and as you turn the corner, you sweeten the deal for yourself. "And I want a big bag of Halloween candy!"

"Ah, fuck!" in a thick Scottish accent could be heard echoing down the hallways. You rush into the common room, a place where you can catch Ghost before he goes off to do paperwork or some other shit.

You turn the corner and see Ghost casually sipping some tea and watching ice break compilations (I don't think he actually would. I just can't figure out what he would be doing to relax).

You steel yourself in the doorway, saunter on over, and attempt to sit semi-sexy but also knowing you probably just look awkward.

"How you doin, Daddy?"

And as if Ghost was expecting this, he said, "I'm alright, Mama."

You immediately run to Soap and start screaming, "AHHHAHA!"

You can hear Ghost lightly chuckling before giving off a big scream, "AHHHHHH!"

You ran right back to Soap. "HE FLIRTED BACK!"

"Slow down, lass. He flirted back?"

You took a deep breath and started over. "Yes. He flirted back and now it looks like you don't have to worry about switching around the training schedule."

"That's funny. Cause you were already going to be training with me!"

"Soap!"

______________________________________________________________

This was cringe. I am very aware. Please do not attack me. I am sad.

☕ Masterlist ☕

🔞 MINORS DNI! 🔞

Key:

☁️: Fluff

😏: Suggestive, not NSFW

🔞: NSFW

😭: Angst

😂: Funny

COD: MW2 2022

Camgirls and Cows: Simon Riley/Ghost 🔞

Daughters: All ☁️

Flirting with Death: Simon Riley/Ghost ☁️

Avengers

Ghost Hunting and Praise: All ☁️

Bacon and Bloodhounds: Natasha Romanoff 😏☁️

Vegan Vampires: Natasha Romanoff ☁️

Boyfriend/Husband

Anything for you: 😏☁️

Texting on the Boardwalk: Doberman Boyfriend 😏

Mate: Werewolf

The Witcher

Waterhaven Chalet: Geralt ☁️

Moment of Peace: Geralt ☁️

Welcome Home, White Wolf: Geralt ☁️

Life, Death, and Destiny: Geralt ☁️

Of Hearts and Swords: Geralt 😏☁️

My Witcher: Geralt 😏☁️

Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss

Alastor has a what?!: in progress

Dimension 20

Outta Pocket: All ☁️

Haikyu!!

Bullies Were Never My Kinda Thing: All ☁️

Shitposts:

TGIF: All 😂

Twilight:

The Teacher at Forks High School

Its scary as hell but wow- i am liking this, pretty sure this could be a nice podcast series too with em telling details of what had gone down. Im drinking this so much, imagine the amount of good episodes too🤧🍵

You know those buzzfeed unsolved series where they talk about crime? Yeah, that. Would watch or listen to all the stories Reader has to tell✌️

Is it strange that i'm willing to listen tho?? Eh¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

A fate worse than death, part two

Summary:The rest of the time find out what happen to you and the others

Type:Scenario: 141 + Los Vaqueros X M!Reader

Version:Mw2

~

Gaz was trying to get it out of Price about what happened while Soap was helping Rudy get Alejandro to the medic and Ghost was sitting in his room thinking. And you were no where to be seen.

"Come on cap, tell me what happened"

Gaz and Price were headed towards the Kitchen, and Price was getting alittle annoyed with Gaz.

"No Gaz"

Gaz didn't know what happened so he didn't know how it still affected Price in ways he's never been affected before. When they reached the kitchen there were two newer recruits talking, they have been in the military before and actually worked alongside of you for quite some time but they were new to 141. When Gaz and Price sat down Gaz was just staring at him trying to get it out of him, just silently this time. But now Gaz could see how the captain was still alittle shaky from early.

"Yeah he's crazy man, one time he used his sledgehammer and bushed his way up to someone's head, hitting every spot."

One of the new recruits said. Gaz stopped looking at Price, turning his head slow enough for it to creak. Gaz was horrified with what he just heard.

"Damn, that is crazy"

The other recruit said like it was a normal thing. But then again you are named death after all.

"Wait, wait a second. Who are you talking about?"

Gaz asked still in complete shock. The recruits looked at him alittle confused.

"Death? You know y/n?"

Gaz looked at Price then back to the recruits quiet. He couldn't believe it, no. He refused to believe it. You were one of the nicest people, yeah you scared alot of the people on the team but he never seen why.

"Are...are you serious?"

The recruits nodded. Gaz was shocked, far beyond shocked. Like yeah your code name is death, but he never took it seriously. You? Brutally kill a guy? He couldn't believe it.

"Yeah, actually funny thing I heard one day that apparently he stabbed someone multiple times, and while they were still alive he shoved a smoke bomb down their throat and the smoke spewed out of the holes he made in them"

Price was still silent.

~Off to Soap~

Putting Alejandro on the bed in the medic room, Soap looked at Rudy worried.

"What happened?"

Rudy looked at Soap with a face that basically said 'I don't wanna talk about it'. Soap couldn't see what happened so he was clueless to what you did. Alejandro looked up at Soap.

"Wanna know what happened? It was death, that's what"

Alejandro stopped to cough abit. Letting out a disgusted sound.

"He was crazy, he beat the shit out of a shadow before bashing his hea in. I....I couldn't watch"

Alejandro looked down, ashamed, disturbed, disgusted. Soap chuckled abit, but by the looked of Rudy and Alejandro he knew they were serious.

"Wait? Y/n? Are you serious?"

Alejandro nodded, Rudy just looked away. Soap stood there silent, taking it all in. Before Rudy spoke.

"The captain was horrified"

~On to Ghost~

Throwing a ball up and down he thought to himself, 'what happened when the shadows head dropped?' That's all he could think about. One second the shadow had a gun pointed at someone, and the next second that someone hit the shadow in the head with the gun causing him to disappear from all the snipers view. Not that Gaz and Soap were paying attention. Ghost could see Price's horrified reaction, the look of pure shook and disgust in Rudy's face, and Alejandro start throwing up, violently. It dawned on Ghost that he could always ask you, or go back to see what you did. He'd rather ask you. Getting up Ghost went to find you. When he did he grabbed your shoulder, causing you to turn around.

"Sir, what did you do to that shadow?"

The devilish smile on your face told Ghost, it wasn't pretty.

~The story of what did, from all their perspectives~

Price looked at Gaz, and signed.

"He...The moment he had a open window he grabbed the gun, smacking the shadow in the face with it"

-

Rudy, gulped, and Alejandro glared at the ground.

"He crushed the guys cheek bone, so bad you could hear it crack all the way over by us"

-

You grabbed Ghost's hand and leaned in.

"I bashed that bastards head until be fell to the ground, he, I could alright see the blood dripping from his head.

-

Gaz listened carefully, leaning in he didn't want to miss any details.

-

Soap stayed quiet, not wanting to accidentally interrupt.

-

Ghost shivered slightly at how you spoke, it was creepy. Almost inhuman

-.

Price looked back at the table, in thought.

"Taking the gun, he didn't kill the man. No he did worse"

Gaz carefully got up, to make him and Price a cup of tea.

-

Rudy looked Soap in the eye, now stern.

"He continuously hit the guys thigns until they bleed no more"

Soap started to get nervous, just the thought of getting your thighs bashed in with a steel gun made his thigns tingle slightly.

-

You leaned back alittle seeing the discomfort in Ghost's eyes.

"He was screaming so loud, if was like music to my ears. As I watched his legs turn to mushy flesh infront of my very in eyes"

Ghost stepped back abit, now more cautious due to your creepy and low chuckling.

-

Price nervously messed with his fingers.

"He didn't stop beating his legs in until you could see the shadows nerves and veins sticking to the beaten muscle, that....ugh"

Price groaned at the thought of what you did, as Gaz listened getting uncomfortable himself from the way Price was unsettled.

-

Alejandro groaned loudly and stood up.

"He was like a senseless beast, when he turned around to look at us he bent in a way he shouldn't."

Alejandro practically yelled as Rudy nodded, Soaps full attention now on Alejandro. Soap was a tad bit uncomfortable, he's never seen Alejandro this freaked out over something. Neither has Rudy.

-

You stepped closer as Ghkst stepped backwards

"He begged begged me to not kill him, so I yanked him by the hair and asked him 'how?'"

Ghost has never felt this way around someone before, he didn't like it

-

Price looked you at Gaz seeing him making the finally touches in the tea.

"After he dropped his head, death was gonna stomp on his head, he was gonna kill him."

Gaz nodded and brought Price his tea. Recruits still standing there, listening.

-

Alejandro walked around the room to try and get the unsettling feeling out of him. As Rudy continued to inform Soap about what happened.

"He didn't get a chance to crush his head actually, the shadow stabbed the bottom of his foot causing him to jump back."

Soap thought that was the end and let out a sign of relief.

-

You grabbed Ghost by his mask and pulled him to you. Having the same devilish smirk you started with.

"He tried to get away Ghost, he tried so hard but I wouldn't let him, I stabbed him with the knife he stabbed me with."

Ghost was about to pull away but remembered, it'd be useless you'd only pull him back. He knows you get to worked up in telling a story.

-

Price nervously took a sip of tea, staring down at it as it swirled with the steam.

"He-....He used the knife to stab between his shoulder blades....before cutting his back open, all the way down to his lower back."

Gaz almost choked on his tea when he heard that. He pictured it to well, the thought made him wanna run away from this conversation.

-

Rudy looked down, legs and arms shaking slightly. Soap took notice of this.

"Y/n...he grabbed the sides of open flesh, and, oh my god... he ripped the shadow open like he was nothing."

Soap took a step back, horrified by what he heard. How, no, why? Why would you do that.

-

You pulled Ghost closer, now whispering in his ear, likely to keep this part a secret.

"I wanted to do worse Ghost, but instead I broke. Every. Fucking. Rib. He had, his screams only got louder."

Ghost eyes widen, realizing you met you had grabbed his bare ribs and snapped them all in half. Now Ghost has done some crazy things but this? It's on a while nother level.

-

Price rubbed his temples to calm himself.

"When he finished he, well killed him. With his foot"

Gaz had finished his tea by then. Still has that unsettling feeling.

-

Alejandro walked back over to Soap and grabbed his shoulder.

"Wondering how he killed a soldier with just his foot? Yeah? He stepped on him, well more like bashed."

Soap looked at Alejandros hand alittle nervous.

-

You chuckled darkly pushing yourself off of Ghost.

"I dropped my foot so hard, I still have his eye juices on my shoe"

Ghost gagged as you walked away laughing, the whole base could hear you. The ones who seen you kill that Shadow shivered remembering that laugh.

~

[A/n:I got lazy in the last part. But hear you have it. I hope you enjoyed]

Tattoos Tell A Story part 2

Part 1 here, Part 3 here

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Summary: You decide to give Ghost a taste of his own medicine

Warnings: None?, Some kissing??, FLUFF, Ghost being bby gurl

A/n: This was requested by @v1naco . I hope I did your wonderful idea justice! Also how the heck did this end up so long??

You would like to make one thing clear.

You love watching Simon get tattoos.

Not only is his deliciously huge arm on full display, but the way his muscles flex when the needle hit a particularly sensitive part of his arm?

Oh you were down bad.

Yes you know he’s technically in pain but come onnn-

He had wanted to get the date of one of his most recent victorious mission tattooed on the inside of his bicep.

What kind of mission was it? You weren’t sure, you know, with it being “classified” and all.

He told you in secret at home

Once told of his plans, you had immediately accepted to tag along and boy are you glad you did. Originally it was for the purpose of just spending as much time with your boyfriend as possible, but you didn’t realize it’d be such a sight.

“Enjoying the view there sweetheart?”

You startle slightly, flicking your eyes away from his arm to Ghost’s masked face. You know there’s a smirk hiding under there somewhere.

Cocky bastard

You clear your throat, repositioning in your seat slightly ,”Uh, no I-I was just….. admiring Jackson’s handiwork.” You claim.

Simon looks you up and down,“Mhm, whatever you say love.”

Jackson, the tattoo artist, just chuckles at the couples antics, eyes never leaving his work.

Ghost knew Jackson pretty well due to him having worked on most of his arm sleeve. He was the only artist in the area that would agree to the service of a scarily large man in a sketchy skull mask and hood, the others immediately declined as soon as he stepped through the door, some even reaching for their phone in a concealed panic. Not that they could really be blamed for their hesitance. He is pretty intimidating if you didn’t know him.

Your eyes now purposefully wander anywhere around the parlor except Simon. You would not be giving him the pleasure of catching you gawking again.

Your gaze skims over a variety of stencils hung on the walls. You never minded the idea of getting a tattoo yourself, you were just too indecisive to ever settle on one.

But maybe one of Jackson’s will stick out to me, you think as you exam the references pinned to the wall

Maybe a bird?

Or a moon?

Possibly a flower?

Oo, that bunny’s pretty cute.

Maybe a-

Wait

Is that-

You squint your eyes to see it clearer, before they quickly widen again

It is

You can’t help the slight maniacal smirk that overtakes your face

That one’s perfect

-+-

It had been about a week since the tattoo parlor and honestly? You had almost forgotten about the whole thing. Simon had still yet to notice your skins new…..addition. You’d think a military man would be more observant.

Although, in your boyfriends defense, it was so small and in such a hidden place that even you yourself had a hard time seeing it.

You and Ghost were in the kitchen together, him in charge of the noodles while you made the sauce. Normally y’all would just order some take-out, but you both decided to try something new. Neither you or him were five star chefs by any means, only able to follow along to a recipe. A very detailed recipe.

You were leaning over the stove just trying to stir the ingredients though your hair obviously did not get the memo. No matter what you did, tucking it behind your ear, blowing it back with your mouth, it just would not get out of your face.

You pull a strand in front of you, eyes almost crossing from it being so close, and glared at it as if it had personally offended you.

I swear to gosh, one day I’m just gonna freaking shave all of it off-

“Here,” comes a distinctly deep, British voice from behind. When had he gotten over here?,”Let me.”

You feel the strands of hair get pulled gently from your grasp as he gradually gathers it all into one extremely large hand. He gingerly rakes his fingers through your locks, eliminating any knots or lumps. Using the hair band from his wrist, where did he get that from?, he joins all of it into a ponytail.

You’re kinda sad to feel his fingers retreat from your scalp.

You run a hand over your head, examining his work. You’re fairly surprised to feel that there’s only a small hump or two.

“Hm, not bad for a man with sandpaper hands.” You jest with a smile.

You don’t get a response

The sound of breathing coming from behind tells you he hasn’t moved either.

“Simon?” You question, turning to look over your shoulder.

The man in question was standing stock still, you’d think he was a mannequin if not for his chest moving up and down. His gaze zeroed in on your ear.

You instinctively raise a hand to the spot in question, and that’s when it finally dawns on you.

He’s not looking at your ear.

No, he’s looking behind it.

You smile

So your little game of spot the difference was finally over.

“You like it?” You ask smugly

Simon doesn’t know what to say, just eye’s the nape of your neck in bewilderment. This was absolutely not here before. Where your skin was previously unblemished, now contains a tattoo about the size of his thumb.

A skull tattoo.

“When did you get this?” He asks instead, finger coming up to rub over it, almost as if he thinks it’s fake, thinks that the ink will smudge under his thumb.

“‘Bout a week ago.” You admit with a shrug, trying to be nonchalant about it.

His eyes finally shift to your face,”And you didn’t tell me?”

You shoot him an unimpressed look, grabbing his arm that contains the tattoo of your name and pushing it in his face,”Hypocritical much?”

He looks from his arm, to your tattoo, then to your face, as if he was putting together a puzzle.

“Is the tattoo an expression of love or a ploy of revenge?” He asks with suspicion.

You shrug, a smile gracing the corner of your mouth,”Can’t it be both?”

He eyes you for a moment, shaking his head in exasperation, but you could of swore his eyes lit in amusement.

Oh!

You about forgot something!

“Did you notice any details about it, a letter perhaps?” You question coyly.

No he hadn’t

He gently grips your chin to turn it to the side, dipping his head a little to get a closer look.

Oh.

He can see it now.

There’s a few cracks on the side of the skull and , if he looks close enough, he can see that they join to make a letter.

S

“Does tha-does that stand for-“

“Simon? Yeah, yeah it does.”

He stands there, just silently rubbing your tattoo again for a moment. You’re not complaining though, you’re just soaking in his touch. His fingers feel good.

You clear your throat, gently taking a hold of the hand rubbing your neck,”So? You like i-“

You’re cut off by him surging forward, capturing you in a kiss.

Definitely worth the pain of the needle.

-*-

You were both laying in bed after supper, your stomachs full. Full of take-out, not home cooked pasta because you may or may not have gotten distracted and singed the noodles and turned the toast to basically charcoal.

You were in a spooning position, his large arms wrapped around your waist, mask finally taken off in the darkness of your room.

“You know,” He breaks the silence,”I really do appreciate it, the tattoo.”

“Thought it was only fair. You know, with you getting one for me and all.” Your voices are soft, just whispers in the night.

“You know you didn’t have to do it, right? Not just cause I did.” Anyone that didn’t know Simon would judge from his gruff voice that he was bored or uninterested, maybe even irritated. But you did know him, which means you easily pick up on even the slightest hint of hesitation in his voice.

Your brows furrow,”That’s not the only reason I got it.”

When you receive only silence you look over your shoulder at him, “You know that, right?” You ask as if it was obvious. You thought it was.

Once again, you receive only silence. You really wish it wasn’t so dark so you could read his expressions.

You shift your body so that you’re fully facing him.

“Hey,” you reach for the hand around you’re waist and hold it to your chest,”You know I love you right?”

“Yeah?” You don’t like that he sounds so hesitant.

“Simon,” you make sure he knows you’re serious,”I love you. You’re the only person I ever want to love, and I don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon, and I sure as heck ain’t planning going anywhere anytime soon. So why wouldn’t I want evidence of you on my body?” You use your other hand to cup his cheek.

The breath he lets out sounds shaky, letting you know your little speech hit him right in the way you wanted it to. You can’t see anything but the outline of his figure, though you swear you can feel his gaze piercing you.

He brings the hand you’re not holding to rub the spot behind your ear where you know his initial lies.

“I love you too,” He confesses on a quivering exhale.

You slowly lean in for a kiss, not quite sure where his lips are in the dark but somehow hitting them almost perfectly the first try, almost as if it was second nature to you now. That’s something you never really felt before Simon. Sure you had locked lips with other guys but you never knew there could be such emotion in just a kiss. With him, it’s almost like your minds, as well as your lips, are closely connected for that moment. You can feel the love, the passion, the joy, all of it with just a touch of mouths.

Ghost is the one to break it first, breath fanning over your face as he speaks,”I just have one question.”

“Hm?” Your mind is still frazzled by that short intense make out session.

“Was it when I went to the bar with Johnny that Friday?”

Your mind slowly catches on to what he’s saying, letting out a small giggle. That’s confirmation enough for him.

“And you said you were just gonna have a lazy night in?” His fake anger makes your giggles worse.

“You went to the stinking parlor instead didn’t you?”

You don’t even know why this has tickled you so badly, but soon Simon’s own deep chuckles join yours.

He pulls you into his chest, “Sneaky girl.”

You two just laugh harder

another price lookalike porn link unlocked

18+ no minors or ageless blogs, afab reader, daddy kink, oral f receiving. the race of the girl in the vid isn’t indicative of anything written below, i only linked it bc the guy in the vid looks like price. everything written below is race and (i believe) body inclusive. (this was done in like 3 mins so 😅)

just imagine him holding you down with his big hairy arms while he laps up your juices. his hands digging into your plush skin. his beard scratching your sensitive mound as his tongue flattens along your folds, before dipping into your cunt. humming a pleased rumble against your pussy, damn near a growl.

you struggle to look at him as he peers up at you, his eyes drinking in your writhing form with all the ferocity and hunger of a lion devouring its prey.

“sweet little pussy. daddies pretty cunt.” he all but growls into you. “y’hear me? this pussy is mine. these sweet juices are mine.”

he’s practically making out with your cunt, kissing it so passionately and slowly like he would always kiss you. the wet sounds he makes between your thighs makes you gasp even more, more than you already were. he was lapping up any trace of you that he could get, eating you out like a man starved.

“who gets this pussy wet, hm?” he asks, as if you could even answer coherently with his tongue fucking you. “s’ it simon? or kyle? maybe johnny?”

denials sit on your tongue as you feel the warm coil in your stomach tighten. you shake your head desperately. no. no. it could never be them. it could never be anyone but you. you want to say, but the words don’t come out. you’re too busy moaning and mewling to say anything he could make out.

“or is it this wet for daddy? hm?”

all you can do is nod, nod so fast you fear you might get whiplash. always for him, only ever for daddy.

he laughs against your cunt, his tongue dipping back inside your pussy.

“mmm, that’s it.” he hums against you, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucks before humming again.

your hands shake and your head falls back for a moment, before you look at him again. his beard is all soaked and shiny in your slick and his hands moved to grip your wrists, holding them steady.

he grins against you as he feels your legs shake. he flicks his tongue against your clit before sucking the swollen bundle of nerves into his mouth.

“come on, give it to me. come for daddy. now.”

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

'Red is the Color of Our Lives (And Red is the Color of Our Blood)' pt2

Utterly disappointed in Tumblr. Deleted not just one, not just two, but 36 drafts. Meaning, just like this part, I will have to rewrite every singly idea and part that was in those drafts. Anyhow- BIG PLANS, I WILL BE POSTING THE LAST PART/S OF THIS FIC TOMORROW TO END THE YEAR ON A GOOD NOTE MWHAHAHAHAHHA 👹 enjoy

The last thing you saw before you had practically been thrown out of the helicopter was the whites of a familiar green pair of eyes wide with fear and utter horrored shock as his hands just grazed your own. Within the mere moments of snapping back into reality, you were absolutely gobsmacked on how close you guys were to the ground and more so how fast a metal side roof had broken your fall. Slamming onto your left with a loud ramming sound, you cried out loud as the slickened roof as the rain had caused you to utterly have no grip no matter how hard you tried to grasp the roof...and then you felt yourself fall onto you back into the mud with a squealching wet noise and a groan. Your head hurt, utterly rang against your head..and you could just feel something warm trickle down. Rolling onto your right side, you let out a grunt as your vision swam, dizzy for a few mere moments.. and then, the ringing had faded as well as the vision swimming now gone.. you had looked around for your gun only to see it a few feet away, it clearly being thrown from your grip as the helicopter had spun after a direct hit, causing you, who was closest to one of the helicopters open side of its belly, to utterly get thrown out without a second thought to process what to grab for before it was to late. And now here you were, scrambling into the mud as you grabbed your gun and let out a small hiss as your ribs pulsed like a heartbeat... the rain is too thick. Like smog utterly covering the senses you had, all you saw was the night and rain pelting down.. all you smelt was the water and sickening smell of flame... fire... Turning all you could feel was the rain feeling like razors on your goosebumped skin... and the blood running down your head.. and all you could smell was the utter flames of the chopper that you were just in..that had just crashed... This was just supposed to be a quick in and out mission. A blow and go.. but now, you weren't even sure the explosives that had been brought and where on the chopper even made it..or if anyone even made it out. You felt dazed before you heard sounds.. no..foot steps..fast and heavy and an wave unrecognizable voices yelling...shit.. Practically groaning as you ran for cover behind an alleyway of the Ghost town that the cartel had decided to set up as a home base for the time being... inhaling sharply, you inhaled and exhaled shakily. The grip on your gum was so harsh that you were sure that your knuckles cracked from the pressure of the grip. And before you knew it... the adrenaline rush of the moment had sent you into an utter frenzy of going into autopilot. And the next thing you knew was that you were now watching from above in a flat roofed building. Searching for any signs of anyone getting out...

Soap...Alejndaro..Price..Ghost...König. You felt like throwing up,utterly to just hurl your guts up and just lay there and crumble as your head swooned and felt like it had its own heartbeat.. and you heard no shouts from the helicopter explosion/crash below. Nothing. Utterly nothing. Other than the forgein language, you were too busy fumbling with your comms to notice. Desperately, you called out into the void of the main comm link. "This is Bravo 0-9. Sitting high and dry, couple yards up from Helo crash and Target. How Copy?." Silence..utter gut-wrenching silence..as you swallowed thickly and spoke again into the comm link. Your voice wavering slightly. Hesitant. Hesitant on the fact to face that they may not have made it out alive. "I repeat, this is Bravo 0-9, sitting High and Dry, couple yards up from Helo-crash and Tagret, How Copy." Nothing. And then you reached around... and felt a dangling wire..the comm had snapped either when you fell or where scrambling in the mud...fuck.. hissing a breath through your lungs, you went to stand before an utter sound filled your ears, and the sight of grayed and roaring smoke filled your senses, and the flames of the now exploded target building that now USED to hold everything of their main fire power or incomes. Whether it be from the hard street drugs or the utter street illegal military class weapons they held. It was all flames now. And now, all of their fire power gone. All of their income. Gone. And practically of their men. Gone. All up in flames. Fitting. Ironic. And then, with a heaved face, you crawled through the smoke and landed on a side roof and slid down, your gun now strapped to your back as you focused on the fire power on the streets ahead that utterly broke out. And with the returning fire, it made you realize that perhaps all or maybe some of your guys survived.. perhaps HE survived. Just as you went to grab your gun from your back, you heard a noise behind you only for you to turn and be bumrushed into the ground by a large heaping figure..your gun digging into your back and your head bouncing off the concert jungles muddy ground..and your senses rang and slowed as your tried to swing hack and get this guy off of you but the mere weight of this guy pressed on your side made your ribs hurt to the point no breathe would even enter your lungs and there you where, gasping for air in-between gun fire and then a knife in your hand...and suddenly without even thinking you slammed it into his side repeatedly like a crazed animal before he fell over gasping and convulsing. And blood not only was on your face..it was on your hand..Letting in a loud gasp, you rolled onto your stomach and practically dragged your now,weakening Vinson and body out of the gun fire.. only for a large figure to come into your vision. Oh, please, not again... and then, with one last fighting, will you tried to push the guy off as blood filled your vision, but your hands gave way to his uninjured strength... and then invetween in and out vision blackouts. You caught a glimpse of those Green eyes staring down at you..and before you knew it, within a few in and out knoddings off from the evident blood loss from your head wound or just the mere bodily exhaus you where being carried by Him. König. As a few glances could catch Soaps figure utterly hauling ass ahead to the best of his limping capabilities, letting him. And then. A helicopter came into view. And the next thing you knew was the cold hard ground of the helicopters' stomach and a pair of arms pulling you onto it.. before the last sight you saw was those utterly damned green eyes...and the blood soaking your hand.. before all you saw was red...utterly suffocating red.. before black snapped you into nothingness

'Blood is the Color of Our Lives(And the Color of Our Blood)' pt3.

AHHHH FINAL PART OF THIS FIC, as said before twice, this was not going to be a long series fic like 'Adrenaline High'. This one was just supposed to be a quick one-shot type nice little spice of life fic. Enjoy the last Fic before the end of the year, everyone.

Enjoy and have a happy new year :)

Warnings: nothing but pure fluff :)

To say the least of König utterly wavering on the chair next to your bedside was an understandable understatement. He was utterly worried, partially sorrowful, and at the least part. Having only known you for giving or taking two days. He felt as though he'd known you forever. And now, here he sat, like a worried bird fluttering over you, hovering over the doctors. And now he pleaded for your still figure to awaken. Just for him to catch a glimpse of your E/c Orbs, to see the light utterly flick off of them like a sunset. Three days have passed. Three days of the head trauma you've suffered from the fall had caught you in a mid drift of coma and not a coma. And now here he was, standing up, his legs feeling wobbly, numb,and utterly weak from the denial of his own care and needs to watch over you with worry. And now here he was, quite literally staggering to the door to question another nurse to come in and check on you out of his own worrying and overbearing nature. And just as he went to reach for sullen doorknob..he heard a voice.. mumbling and quite silent... Your voice.. "König?" ... And then,he turned to see your figure sitting upright and still quivering from the mere strength it even took of energy to life yourself up, let alone you holding yourself up at the moment.

And you watched as he soon abandoned the doorway and seemed to cover the room's floor in just one singular stride. And now here he was, standing over your sitting up figure, and without warning, you just pulled him down and almost sent him toppling into you as now you held him into a tight hug. He stiffened beforehand, relaxing and catching his Bearings. And held you quietly back. As of right now, you were at peace of just holding him, and he seemed jist as well, but his legs said other wise as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. And you noticed. "Take your boots off, come on König." He jumped at your words that rumbled against his waist area as you spoke. And with a swift nod, he kicked off his boots and stared at you with an awkward look before he watched you attempt to try and lay down only to wince. Which caused him to act almost immediately. Like the flash and in a flick of a motion he had hoisted you up like a rag doll and slid beneath your now startled figure and gently placed you on his figure. The clothes he wore weren't his military gear, more just cargo sweats and a white t-shirt. Basically, what he was able to grab first before racing here to see you after he found out they had got you stabilized. And he was comfortable, and so where the arms he gently wrapped around your figure, which was wearing the usual loose fitting white t-shirt and navy sweats the Med bay had on hand to change soldiers just like yourself who came in needing serious attention and care. And soon, with his head resting gently on the side of yours,his lower face and chin resting on your shoulder,you felt his breathing slow and listened as he dozed off into much needed rest. Within a few more moments of listening to his slowed heartbeat and his breathing, you,yourself, were lulled to sleep...utter bliss of a full sleep.

You both may be hand soaked with Red, and your lives drowning in it, But you both bleed Red.

Blissful Red.