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toxicanonymity · 7 months

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Forever for her. Left in Lincoln, pt. 7 .

10k, softdark!Joel Miller x virgin f!reader

Series Master List | official playlist | floorplan

WARNINGS: I8+, virginity loss, big girthy age gap, angst, dark fluff, reader menstruates, p in v, fingering, grinding, creampie, subtle intimidation, manipulation, horror background elements. Joel is creepy, dark, delulu, and cringe (reader is sheltered, isolated, hormonal). Enthusiastic but dubious consent (brainwashing?), playing fast and loose with climate and fruit. Reader wears a flannel from Joel's closet. Haphazardly edited. This is not the last part.

"We're givin' each other everything, right?" You nodded, then he continued, "So listen." He paused and wet his lips. "I would do anything for ya, peaches." He looked down. "Anything." He met your eyes again and swallowed. "Anything to keep ya safe. . . " He lowered his voice. "an' anything to keep ya mine."

You woke up in Joel's bed, and he was nowhere in sight. You were warm, almost too warm. The dress was hanging on the back of his bedroom door. Your undergarments and a pad were on the nightstand.

You took a bath, then put your robe back on and laid on the bed staring at the dress on the back of the door. You could hear the rhythmic scrape of a rake outside and inwardly smiled, picturing Joel doing yard work. You put on your robe, crossed the room to look out the window and felt a refreshing draft as you held the curtains back. In the bottom right corner of the window's top pane, there was a spiderweb on the outside of the glass. The rake continued to scrape against the ground in the distance. The web was well-defined and irregular, some of the fibers thicker than others. You admired its intricacy and followed the design, looking for the spider, wondering if it was a male or female.

The rhythmic scraping of the rake lulled you into a trance as you followed the web from the outer edge in, until a black, out-of-focus mass fell right in front of your nose, then you felt a tickle on your chest. You gasped and stifled a squeal. Your body jerked into panic mode. You rapidfire slapped yourself on the chest and felt it smush against your robe. You wiped it on the window pane, then looked at the crumbled spider with its legs drawn in on itself, still moving but barely. It looked like a slow death, but you hoped it wasn't painful. Surely it never thought about its prey this way.

You took a deep breath and tried to slow your heart rate. You recalled that time back at your house, outside the spider shed, so long ago – Frank's words through laughter, "we're gonna get through this, honey." You took slow, calming breaths, then swallowed and whispered "sorry," before abruptly turning and walking to the bathroom. You washed your hands and chest with soap again, then came back and sat on the bed. The rake had stopped moving.

You finally stood up and retrieved the dress, bringing it to the bathroom with you and locking yourself in. You didn't want Joel to see you if it didn't look good on you. Plus, you had to do something really private.

First you went to the toilet. It was its own room within the bathroom. You locked it, too. You sat there for about fifteen minutes trying to let as much of your period out as you could after being horizontal all night. You didn't want all the built up blood pooling in your pad right away.

Once you did all you could, you washed up and looked in the mirror. You stood there and looked at yourself in your underwear for a minute, mostly looking at your face. You looked different, serious, but vibrating with a new energy. You imagined Joel standing behind you, as if you were in a portrait. Something you'd never have. But at least you had each other.

You finally put the dress on, over your head. You could just barely reach the back zipper to finish it. It felt much less cumbersome than you imagined it would. It was light and unrestrictive. The lace sleeves had enough room. It felt as comfortable as any other dress. You didn't look in the mirror right away. You looked down at yourself, then looked over your back, and down your arms. You looked in the reflection of the shower glass and the silhouette looked good enough.

You turned around to look in the real mirror, and you looked nice. The lace made you feel like a doll, but somehow you looked older than yourself at the same time. You turned around and admired it from the side and over your shoulder from the back, then smoothed it down over your butt and you didn't see the bulkiness you feared from your pad. You looked at yourself head on again, and the only thing out of place was the redness on your chest from scrubbing away the spider. With the dress on, there was a new smile behind your eyes, thinking about how Joel got it for you.

You went to the kitchen to look out the back window. You didn't see Joel and were somewhat relieved to have another moment to yourself. Your tummy felt nervous. You knew it was excitement, but the physical sensation was in discernable from anxiety. There was a little jar of apple juice on the table with a pill and a note that said "cramps?" You were feeling okay but thought about taking half of it anyway.

You sniffed the juice and it smelled good. You sat at the kitchen table and stared at the apple juice in the jar, then took a long sip and watched the tiniest bit of apple sediment settle back to the bottom. It was delicious. You took half the pill and downed the rest of the juice, then your stomach rumbled. You got an apple from the kitchen counter and sat back down. You inspected it and pressed it. You cut it with your thumbnail to make sure it wasn't rotten. It was crisp, and juice beaded along the crescent moon from your nail. You took a bite and it was fine. You relaxed into the chair and ate the apple.

Joel had let you sleep late. It was almost mid day. Just as you were finishing up your apple, you noticed him outside through the kitchen door window. He was standing there and looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He was wearing a white button-up shirt that looked like one Frank might wear to one of his black tie dinners. Joel came inside and as he turned around to close the door, you admired his lower body in a pair of form fitting khakis.

"You look nice," you told him.

He exhaled a small laugh and looked at the floor as he crossed the room to you. He sat down at the table and took your hand. "You look like an angel." He kissed your hand and scooted closer. He smelled like aftershave (although he wasn’t shaved, thank goodness) and a hint of sweat from his yard work. As comfortable as he made you feel, you still got butterflies around him.

He asked, "Hungry?"

You nodded. "A little."

"How bout a lil picnic, somethin' light?"

You nodded "is it nice out?"

"Prettiest day we could want, peaches."

—------

He made some grits and you sat at the table watching. He pulled the wagon with a basket, quilt, and blanket, and held your hand as you slowly walked. He squinted and looked at the trees, then at you.

He asked, "How ya feelin'?"

"Good, I'm fine."

"Good."

You assumed you were going to "your tree," but instead you arrived at a peach tree. He had cleared the area around it so no debris was in the way. He looked around and asked, "Whatcha think?"

You looked around. It was a good spot, away from the back, but not too close to the street. Insulated enough to feel private. You nodded, "yeah, this is nice."

Joel spread out the quilt, then the blanket, then, before sitting down, he took both your hands in his. "I feel so lucky, peaches. You're the most special girl in the world." His eyes bored into yours. "Really mean that. There's no one like you, darlin'."

You looked down then met his eyes again, biting your lip. "I think you're special, too."

A breeze came and swept your dress out, making the scene feel like a postcard.

He dropped your hands, then fetched something out of his pocket and looked at it. Your heart skipped a beat. His thick fingers were blocking your view.

"Now darlin', I'm gonna give ya somethin', but first. . ."

He held it up. It was gold and shiny. Your birth father's wedding band. Your heart skipped a beat and a knot formed in your stomach.

"My. . ." You couldn't finish the sentence. This meant he knew about the gun, too. . . and your mother's knife.

Joel must have seen it on your face. "Left everything else how ya had it. You're a smart girl, peaches."

You tried to read his face. It was soft, sympathetic. You nodded hesitantly.

"It's okay, darlin'. I don't blame ya. I woulda done the same." He held the ring between his forefinger and thumb and you opened your palm. "Smart to be prepared."

You breathed a sigh of relief as the knot in your stomach relaxed. But even as it faded, you still had that nervous–no, excited–tummy.

Joel put the ring in your hand and closed it. He held his hand there around yours and seemed like he might say something else, but he didn't.

You didn't have anywhere to put the ring. You had a passing thought to put it on your thumb but it felt stupid. You felt an urge to say you were going to give it to Joel, but you didn't say anything since he let you off the hook.

Joel reached back in his pocket and fished out another ring, smaller. It was silver with inset stones. He held it up and said, "I want you to have this one." He stepped closer, so his feet were outside yours. "We're givin' each other everything, aren't we?"

You nodded, and his eyes watered.

He nodded with you and his brow furrowed. "I love you. . . And I love bein' a family, the two of us."

Your own eyes felt misty. "I love you, too."

He took your hand, and slid the ring onto it. It was old fashioned, simple. "Ain't never gonna let ya go."

"Good," you whispered.

—

He kissed your hand, and when he tried to hold your other hand, too, you realized you were still holding your father's ring.

"Um," you cleared your throat. "Would this fit you?" You asked and opened your hand. His face relaxed.

"I dunno, peaches," he whispered. His eyes sparkled at you. He held his hand palm-down. The top of his ring finger's knuckle was a little red as if he'd already tried to put it on. You slid the ring part way on, but his finger was too big.

"Sorry," you muttered and felt a lump in your throat. You didn't have anything to give him. It rested above his knuckle.

"S'okay darlin', it's the fact that ya tried." He unbuttoned his shirt pocket, dropped the ring into it, then buttoned it again. "I'll keep it safe for ya."

You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth and nodded, looking up at him shyly, somehow feeling like you ruined this.

He cupped your face and read your eyes, then closed the gap between your faces and his lips pressed into yours.

He hugged you into him, kissed you harder, then murmured, "wanna sit down?"

You nodded.

You smoothed your dress under you and sat down with your knees to the side, leaning toward him. He unpacked a thermos of grits and two bowls. He unbuttoned his wrists and rolled up his sleeves and his forearm flexed with every lift of the spoon. You ate mostly in silence, but he looked at you adoringly the whole time and your nerves faded. His wrist nudged his inner thigh and when your eyes drifted there, the shape of his cock sent a pang between your legs. He followed your gaze and your face heated up as he raised his eyebrows.

—

When you were finished eating, you washed it down with the apple juice, then Joel packed up the basket and put it back in the wagon. When he settled back onto the blanket again, he had a serious look about him.

He sat down with his legs folded to the side so his knees were toward you, and he braced his hand on the blanket, leaning toward you. He kissed you again. He tasted like apples and you imagined he did, too. As he pulled away, he read your face and cupped your cheek. "You're the most beautiful angel, darlin'," he smiled. His gaze lingered, then he swallowed and looked down. He sat up straighter and cleared his throat. He asked again, "We're givin' each other everything, right?"

You nodded, then he continued, "So listen," then wet his lips and paused. "I would do anything for ya, peaches." He looked down. "Anything." He swallowed. "Anything to keep ya safe," he met your eyes and lowered his voice. "And anything to keep you mine."

Your heart raced and you slowly nodded as he let it sink in.

"Get what I'm sayin', peaches?"

"Bad things," you nodded.

His brows remained furrowed as he studied your face. His voice was low and gruff. "Yeah, you could say that."

You looked down to his shirt and the outline of your father's ring in his pocket. He continued, "and darlin', I've felt this way for some time."

Your chest fluttered.

He looked up at the leaves of the peach tree, and it hit you that this was where he found you that day.

Your whole body felt warm, especially in the lace sleeves. He looked at you with anticipation and you admitted, "I had a feeling."

He lifted his eyebrows as he searched your eyes. "Okay," he whispered with a small nod. He looked down again.

"Yeah," you replied. ". . .and maybe you already did bad things." Your chest pounded. He looked at you blankly, and once he blinked, you rephrased, "Necessary things. To be together."

His jaw shifted back and forth. He looked at your mouth, then back up at your eyes. "Would ya wanna know?"

Tension gathered between your eyebrows. You took a deep breath, looked at his lips and watched his jaw clench. His eyes watered. After a moment, you slowly shook your head no. He inhaled and his eyes narrowed. Your voice was a near whisper as you told him, "No. . . Doesn't matter now."

Joel exhaled and nodded. He looked at you intensely and whispered, "Okay, baby."

You didn't need to know. You told him, "We're together, that's all I care about."

"Me too, darlin'." He chuckled, then relaxed and said, “so glad we got each other.” He folded his knees toward you again, leaned in, and cupped your cheek, his eyes locked with yours. “Me and you, baby.”

“You and me,” you whispered, lashes fluttering as his face drifted toward yours.

—-

Your lips locked, and yours tingled with excitement.

His hand moved to the back of your head. His tongue parted your lips, and he pulled you into him as he became more passionate.

As his kiss intensified, he gently lowered you into lying down on the blanket, with one of his knees between yours. His hand ran up your side and came to a rest on your breast as his mouth devoured yours. He palmed your breast, gently bit your lip, and his length hardened against your thigh. When he pulled back, he cupped your face and raised his eyebrows, and his voice was husky. "I'm never," he kissed your lips, then lowered his volume and looked into your eyes, "gonna let you go." His thumb stroked your temple. His lips brushed yours, then kissed you deeper. He pulled back, shook his head with a small smile, and his voice became a whisper as he repeated, "Never."

Your skin prickled with goosebumps, Joel's beautiful face hovering over yours under the peach tree, his body pressed against yours.

"Good," you whispered, and took his head in both your hands. You pulled him down on you. He braced himself with one forearm on the blanket near your head and his other hand traveled back down your side, down your dress, and reached under the skirt of it to your thigh. His hand slid up your thigh and he squeezed it, then lifted your thigh against him.

He lowered his hips to rest against yours, and his cock grew stiffer against you. The warm shape of his stiff length made your whole body go weak. He lifted himself off you just long enough to get the skirt of your dress out of the way. You felt warm and wet between your legs and didn't know how much of it was blood. You knew he didn't care, but it didn't entirely leave your mind.

He had the front of it bunched up at your hips, with his hand between your legs. You flinched as his palm glided over your panties, feeling the shape of your pad. But it didn't phase him at all. He gently reached into your panties.

Your face tensed. “Remember, I–"

"I know, baby," he reassured you with kind eyes.

"What about the dress?”

“Dress don’t matter, darlin’." He kissed you again. "Long as you're feelin' good." He planted another kiss and pressed his hard-on against you again. "Are ya?"

You nodded an unequivocal yes. It was certainly what your body wanted.

"Hell, let's paint it red,” he mused.

You relaxed and laughed softly.

"No?" He asked with a smile, then leaned his forehead against yours. He kissed you gently.

The time of the month wasn't ideal, but you wanted it. If you waited, he might think you weren't ready after all. Plus, you were more comfortable than you ever thought you could be. A month ago, you would have died at the thought of a man seeing any evidence of your period at all. But Joel was so reassuring, so comforting, and he really wanted all of you. He was turning it into something beautiful, and you had no doubt he felt that way. He looked at you again, then asked, “Sure you’re feelin’ good enough?" He kissed you again. “‘Cause that's all that matters.”

“I am,” you nodded earnestly.”

“You sure?”

"Joel," you sighed on the edge of irritation.

"Ok, darlin'."

He slid his hand down and exhaled vocally when his fingers met your warm, moist folds. He ran his fingers up and down your folds, moistening your clit, then he slowly, teasingly circled it. His cock swelled harder against you. "You wanna go to bed?"

You shook your head. "It's magical out here."

"That's right, peaches," he murmured lowly into your neck, lightly circling your clit with his moist fingers. His breath was warm and humid against your neck. "Special, ain't it?"

You nodded, and pulled his head back down to yours. Your lips met again. His thick fingers tensed, slid down, and prodded at your entrance. You tilted your hips and he gave a short, low "mm" as he brought his fingers back to your clit.

His tongue slid against yours in rhythm with his fingers. His mouth grew hungrier for yours every moment as he massaged your most sensitive place. He got you almost to the edge. You whimpered as his hands worked within the confines of your panties. Then he asked, "Let's take these off, hmm?" You nodded. He started to do it, then looked at your face to confirm, "You want me to?"

"I can do it," you lifted your hips and slid them down, and once they were mid-thigh, he finished taking them off.

–

He lowered his torso against yours and his massive hand nudged your shoulder up toward him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he lifted you into sitting. He traced the back neckline of the dress and murmured, "want this on or off?"

You shrugged.

"up to you, darlin'. But I sure would like to see ya." He kissed your neck and you could feel him smile against your skin. "If you're warm enough"

You were warm all over. You were so warm at your very core that it was hard to imagine ever being cold again. You asked, "you'll keep me warm, won't you?"

"Course I will."

You cracked a shy smile and planted your hands on the ground to lift your weight off the dress. Joel brought the dress up to your stomach, his fingers smearing it red, then you lifted your arms and he took it off. He planted delicate kisses on your chest at the base of your neck, and your shoulder as he gently nudged your bra straps off. Then he unclasped the back, and you let it fall in front of you. He put the bra aside and you were naked. He folded the dress into a pillow and put it under your head.

You looked at Joel's clothes and didn't say anything, but he replied to your silent question with a teasing smile. "no, I don't have to be so dressed..." you silently unbuttoned his pants, eye on his cock straining against the khakis, as he unbuttoned his shirt. Before pulling down the zipper, you traced the hard shape of his cock, and his chest let out a nearly imperceptible growl at your first rub.

He made quick work of the remaining shirt buttons, smearing a few of them red. His chest flexed as he peeled the sleeves down his bulging arms. He took his undershirt off over his head, tousling his hair, which he didn’t fix. It was the hottest you’d ever seen him. You were sitting back on your hands, naked body laid out for him. He looked at you lustily every few seconds as he took his pants off, then his boxers, leaving his commanding cock bobbing heavily before you. You pulled your eyes back up to his face and he looked at you adoringly.

–

He knelt on the blanket. Was this really going to happen? You reached out, and he nodded. You wrapped your hand around his shaft and whined, "I'm ready, you know I'm ready."

"Ready for what, darlin'?"

"To put our bodies together."

He nodded. "yeah, baby. You're ready. Gonna be real special."

He got between your legs where a fluttering ache was pounding, begging for relief. He held his cock in his hand. You felt your body making space for him. There was a place inside you that needed to be filled. He slowly lunged toward you and braced his hand on the blanket above your hip. He ran his tip through your dripping folds and his manhood further hardened. He spread the moisture over his cock. He laid his hard cock on your mound and brought his face to yours again. He rested about half his weight on top of you, his bare body flush with yours, his forearms braced on the blanket.

He kissed you deeply, grinding his erection against you, slick with your arousal and blood. Your lips embraced his and your mouth practically sucked in his tongue. He licked into you in rhythm with his slow thrusts against you. Your clit twitched against his cock and you lifted your hips, making him moan into your mouth. You needed him in you yesterday. You lifted your hips again and his mouth curved into a smile against your lips.

He reached between your legs and the breadth of his hand took up all the space. You whimpered at the first contact of the padding of his fingers with your naked heat. He slowly, lightly rubbed you as he kissed you, then slid his fingers down through your folds, gathering your moisture. He entered you with his middle finger, then his ring finger. You moaned into his mouth as his fingers slid all the way into your warm core. His cock swelled harder against your thigh as he pumped his thick digits in and out of you. He moaned softly, then added a third. Your hips rocked into his hand.

You were tense, afraid of coming too soon.

"Joel," you whimpered.

"Yeah baby," he murmured.

"What if I–ohh–what if I come too soon."

He chuckled, "you can come, baby," he kept working his fingers inside you, pressing his upper palm into your clit. You sighed and the tension swelled in your gut. "'s'a good thing, darlin'. gets ya ready for this." He rolled his stiff manhood against you as he said it. "Nice 'n ready."

"But Joel," you whined, unsure. "I want you inside"

"You wanna come on my cock?"

"Yeah, on your cock."

"Oh, baby," he moaned, his cock leaking against your thigh. "You will, baby. You will. You'll come again."

"Really?

He nodded. "Yeah. C'mon darlin, You'll come on my cock, too."

His eyes were sincere. He returned his attention to your clit and you let go. As you began to contract, he slid his fingers back inside you. "Oh, good girl," he sighed as you squeezed his fingers. "Like that, don't ya? Like squeezin' me?"

You nodded and whimpered, unable to speak as you rode out the orgasm.

"Oh, baby." He continued grinding against your hip and kissed you again as you recovered.

He pumped three fingers again, and under his breath, he muttered, "good. . .good." He moaned and pushed his hips against you. "Now I've got ya stretched, nice and relaxed."

"Joel," you begged. "Are you gonna–"

“Oh darlin’, I’m comin’.” he whispered. “Ready to be full of me?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. "Fill me with you," you begged. "Put it in."

“Givin’ each other everything now,” he reminded you. “Can’t get it back.”

You nodded, “you can have it all.”

“And I’m gonna give it to ya, too.”

You nodded and your walls twitched in anticipation.

"Gonna give it all to ya."

He read your eyes and as you got lost in the black holes of his pupils, the clear fibers of his affection wrapped around you, tethering you to him and the moment. He pulled his hips back and his knees spread slightly. You spread your legs to make room. He looked between your legs and the affection on his face faded into desire. “My lands, peaches.”

He hovered over you. Your hands skimmed up his sides, and came to rest around his neck.

He used his hand to notch himself at your entrance and pushed his tip inside, stretching you open. You gasped softly, breasts heaving in anticipation of the rest of it. You dragged your feet toward your butt on the blanket, lifting your knees to frame his hips.

“I love you, baby,” he whispered, and put his forehead against yours.

“I love you too,” you whined, brows furrowed.

His forehead lifted off yours, his lips returned to your mouth, and his hips pressed forward, inching his cock into you with a stretch. His lips broke away from yours and his mouth stayed open. He watched your face as his girth spread you open, dividing your walls. You gasped and nodded for more. He pushed further, taking you apart from yourself inch by inch. You imagined even a smidgen more girth wouldn’t feel good. He bowed his head and backed out an inch of his length, watching your body suck him back in as he pushed in a little more than he had before.

“God damn,” he whispered, then wet his lips as he looked back up at you with half his length sheathed in your warmth.

“You feel so good, joel”

“Oh, darlin’,” he breathed. “You got no idea.”

“I want it all,” you begged.

He nodded, “Okay, baby.” then slowly pushed his hips forward, gradually burying his length with some effort, stuffing you full of him. “Oh, darlin’.” The look of pain on his face told you how hard he was trying not to slam into you. He was slow and gentle, and his tip pushed through your core with even more heft than you imagined. Each inch of him spread you more and filled you fuller than you thought you could be. Your body made more space and he took it up right away.

“Joel,” you breathed.

He whispered your name and said, “you’re doin’ so good.” His flesh didn’t just complete you, it made you more than you were. He took you apart and made you something new, something wrapped around him so tight. “almost there, baby.” And then he groaned “Ohhhh, god,” as you swallowed up the rest of him. It was a perfect fit.

You whimpered as he came to a rest. His cock filled up the whole space and made more for itself. The fuzz of his balls brushed your skin. Your mouth hung open and you breathed, savoring the fullness of feeling him there inside you for the first time.

“Oh, darlin’,” he sighed, staying all the way inside you. He pressed his lips into yours, then pulled back and asked, “You okay?”

You nodded, happy tears prickling your eyes. His brows knitted.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

He nodded. “First time in years,” he whispered, and looked up at the tree. His cock twitched inside you and his tip nudged your cervix. “You tell me when you’re ready, baby.”

“I’m ready,” you nodded.

He looked you in the eyes again. “Our life starts now.” He withdrew most of his length, then let it back into you, his belly flush with yours while his cock dragged heavily inside you. He closed his eyes as your bodies became flush again. He retreated again at a snail’s pace, then pushed in a little faster.

“Saved this just for me, didn’t ya?”

He met your eyes again, then added, “Never be anyone else.”

He lowered his face for another kiss. Each time his flesh filled you up you could hardly believe how your body hugged him. It was like your body had been waiting for him all along. It really had been. This was what your bodies were made to do. Complete each other.

He looked at you and his brow furrowed again.

You asked, "What? What, Joel?"

“Now that I’ve been inside ya,” he breathed, "I’m not sure I know how not to be.”

You knew exactly how he felt. You couldn't bear the thought of being pulled apart.

He reached a slow but steady rhythm, gently filling you with his cock. You traced his shoulder, then his bicep. His bare stomach was resting against your skin, his happy trail touching you with each thrust m. He had about half his weight on you, and he let gravity help as he thrust into you. You imagined it as a magnetism. Each time he retreated, your bodies pulled back together. He bowed his head and watched himself disappear between your legs, and watched your body clinging to his shaft, hugging him tight, trying to pull him back in, not letting him go. “God damn, baby,” he breathed as he watched. “most beautiful thing I ever seen.”

When your caress reached the crook of his elbow, he braced on one forearm so he could take your hand and interlace.his fingers with yours. He held your hand to his chest and whispered, “All yours, darlin’,” his hips still moving, his cock sliding snugly against every ridge of you .

You nodded tearfully, pressing your palm into his chest, feeling the soft hair and the hard muscle.

“Every beat of it, peaches.”

Your other hand cupped his cheek, then slid up to tangle in his hair as his face returned to yours, kissing you as he buried his length in you. When your faces separated, you watched the surreal beauty of his form – his messy hair, his tan skin glimmering, his brown eyes flickering with affection as he filled you to the brim with his flesh.

“Oh, baby, you feel so good”

“I–I’m so–it’s so–”

“Packed full of it, aren’t ya baby?”

You nodded. “It’s so much,” you whispered. “But not too much,” you quickly added. “‘s’perfect.”

“So perfect, darlin’--Ohhh god, baby-–always knew ya were.”

All you saw was him, and the rhythm of his chest over yours. Beneath his heavy breaths and moans, leaves danced in the breeze, birds chirped, and the occasional piece of fruit thumped in the distance as it hit the ground. “Oh baby, I've been starvin’ for this.” His hips moved steadily, filling you with his cock every second or so, whispering your name here and there, marveling at your beauty.

“It feels so good, Joel.”

“how’s it feel?”

“Meant to be there,” you whispered, then sighed as his cock dragged through your core, completing you again. “Like it’s filling my body” More than that–it was creating space for itself, space you didn’t have before, that's the part you didn't expect. It was moving the most intimate parts of you out of the way and replacing them with him.

You tried to describe it. “It’s like –” He lowered his mouth to your neck and sucked “--oh, joel–it’s–it’s–.”

“Oh, baby,” he sighed against your neck, his hips moving steadily. “I know it, darlin’,” he murmured, grinding his pelvis into yours with each smooth thrust. He slowed his hips, still grinding against you, stiff cock dragging inside you. “Meant to be right here.” Your leg wrapped around him and his thrusts became more measured, his pelvis closer against you, grinding into your clit. “Meant to be fillin’ you.”

The pleasure was swirling, nearly coming to a boil in your gut, humming for release against his front, around his cock. “I love you,” you breathed, lifting your hips into his.

“Ohhh, baby I love you too,” he whispered with a smile and near laugh. “‘n’ I love how ya take it.” His eyes darted around your face affectionately, then he bowed his head to look at where your bodies met. “Look so pretty wrapped around this cock,” he looked back up at you with bright, glistening eyes. “Look so pretty, peaches.” Your clit twitched. His movements had your hips lifting into him all on their own. “Yeah, that’s right, darlin’.” You let yourself grind up into him. “Jus’ like that,” he whispered, his body grinding against your mound as his cock moved within you. The tension hummed louder and tightened your core on the edge of bliss. You both moaned.

“Now I want ya to come, peaches,” he said in a serious tone. “Ohh, oh baby—want ya to come and squeeze me real good, can ya do that?”

You nodded, biting your lip, vision getting blurry with the moisture in your eyes. You couldn't take any more tension but unsure if or when the peak would overtake you.

“C’mon, I got ya,” he breathed as you teetered on the edge. “Breathe, baby. c’mon.” You remembered to breathe, his pelvis grinded into yours again, and then you whimpered as the tension burst. “Jo–ohhhh,” your voice was shaky as it overtook you. Your clit spasmed and each wave pulsed outward through your body. Your tears overtook your eyelashes as you moaned and gasped. Your walls clamped down around his cock, and he groaned.

“You–Ohgoddamn,” he muttered as though losing control. Then he groaned, bottomed out hard, and erupted with a shudder. A burst of warmth flooded your core, then your whole body. He dipped his head to kiss you as he came. His cock pulsed into your walls again and again and your walls squeezed in return. His lips pressed into yours, then his tongue. He kissed you and moaned into your mouth. He sucked and gently bit your bottom lip as he filled you. He was filling you all the way up, every single part of you full of him, his essence rushing through you.

There was before this and after this, you finally got it, after all this time he tried to make you see. You understood everything. Like how there was so much beauty left in the world, and it was right there between you. It wasn’t an abstract wish, it was the physical presence of you and him, your bodies together, pulsing against each other’s most intimate parts, his seed spilling into you, his lips on yours, your bodies inseparable, on the ground in the orchard. You saved it for him. Your whole life led to him.

His kiss became more tender as he finished coming. He pulled back and his eyes glistened as he read your face.

You locked eyes for what felt like forever, with Joel still breathing heavily, most of his weight on top of you.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.”

His eyes fell to your mouth and he kissed you again. “gonna pull out now, okay?”

Your lip trembled and your temples felt weak at the idea of your bodies not being joined. He could tell.

“It’s okay, darlin’. We’ll lay here, long as ya want.” He nodded at you and raised his eyebrows for permission to pull out.

You bit your lip and nodded.

He lay half on top of you, with a hand on your breast. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “How did it–how was it?”

“Like nothin’ i’ve ever known, baby.” He sucked in a shaky breath that made you look down at his face and his cheeks were wet.

–

You took a short nap like that, naked under the peach tree, until a dead leaf fell and tickled your arm and you jolted awake. A bird cawed at your sudden movement, and Joel asked, "you okay?"

When you got up, you only put your underwear back on. Joel wrapped you in one of the blankets, put his arm around you as he brought you back inside.

As you were walking back to the house, you heard the car noise again, toward the front of the orchard, and you froze, your eyes wide, looking toward the street. But this time it came with a breeze and the rustling of leaves.

“Just the wind, darlin’. What’s got ya so jumpy?”

“I dunno,” you mumbled. “Sorry.”

You didn’t realize you were jumpy. Maybe since you found out Bill and Frank could come home soon, you kept expecting them.

—-

When you got back inside, he laid the dress across the back of a chair in the living room and traced one of several red smudges with his fingers. There was bright red and dark red. "See? It's beautiful." He patted your hair. "gonna remember this forever."

He ran a bath. You sat on the edge of the garden tub as the bath filled up, and he kneeled in front of you in his boxers. He curled his fingers into the waistband of your panties and you stood up as he helped you take them off. There was diluted blood drying on your inner thighs. He dipped a sponge into the hot water to clean you. When you noticed a bit of his cum leaking out of you, it made you sad. You hoped he’d give you more.

Joel got in the tub first, then you got between his legs and laid back. You laid in silence for a while, then said, “I loved that." Hearing yourself in the bathtub sounded crisper than usual.

“What’d ya love, darlin'.”

“I love having you inside me.”

“Oh, baby, it’s my favorite place to be.”

"Good”

His cock twitched against your lower back. “‘Course it is, baby.” He kissed the crown of your head.

"I feel empty now"

"'S'okay, darlin'. You're s'posed to. 'S'posed to want somethin' there." His hand came between your legs and gently fingered your floating curls.

He shifted his hips under you. "Gotta pace yourself, but it'll feel better and better, I promise."

"Okay."

"We’ll rest up and do it again later."

"Yeah."

—---------

That night, you did it again. He was deep inside you, pressing sweet kisses into your neck as you whimpered beneath him.

“How’s it feel,” he murmured into your neck. “Still feel good?”

“Feels good,” you whined

“S’only gonna get better, baby. Better every day.” He slowly retreated, then sighed "ohh, baby" as he filled you with his cock again. He was still fucking you slowly, carefully, grunting and moaning with your whimpers and sighs. His hair was messed up again, moving to the beat of his thrusts, and his neck veins were bulging.

There was a loud rap at the door, startling you both. Joel’s hand reflexively covered your mouth as he froze, then composed himself and completed one last slow thrust, one that felt even better with you frozen in fear.

“Gonna be okay, baby,” he whispered, then pulled out. He slowly released his hand from your mouth, pressing a kiss into your lips. Your eyes were wide. You hadn't heard the car over your mutual pleasure. "Gonna be okay," he repeated.

He pulled on a pair of jeans and white t-shirt. He took a gun out of his nightstand. There was another loud rap at the door, longer this time. A deep voice with the same drawl as your husband. “JOEL, IT’S ME. OPEN UP.”

Joel looked at you and whispered, "Tommy."

Joel put the gun in the back of his jeans and shut the bedroom door behind him.

—--

The front door creaked as Joel opened it. “Tommy.” You heard the slapping of a hand on a back as they greeted each other, then the door closed. “Didn’t know ya were comin’, woulda gotten a room ready or–”

"Just dropped off Bill ‘n Frank.”

“Shhhh.”

“Hey, what the hell's goin' on? Where's the kid?”

“Tell’em she’s safe. Asleep upstairs."

"You don't think she'd wanna see'em?"

"No sense in wakin' her up."

There was a long pause, then Joel asked, “Why’d ya drive’em?"

“Their truck gave out.” After a long pause, Tommy added “Frank said somethin’s off with you.”

“What're you talkin’ about? Why would Frank said that?”

"Said ya smiled. Made'em uneasy."

Joel scoffed. "I was bein' nice."

Tommy laughed. "I told'em you're weird about hospitals, prolly overcompensatin'. Told'em everything's fine. . ."

Joel said, "good, ‘cause everything is."

"You gonna invite me in?"

"Come on in." A few footsteps, then the front door shut.

Tommy asked, “She’s upstairs?”

Tommy’s boots thudded away from Joel's bedroom, toward the stairs.

“Tommy, wait.”

Tommy didn’t wait. Two sets of footsteps climbed the stairs, with Joel’s quieter steps following Tommy's boots. You couldn't hear their conversation. A door opened and closed upstairs. Then another. And another. You turned the ring on your finger.

Footsteps, then indistinct heated words.

The lighter set of footsteps descended the stairs with the boots following behind. Tommy's voice got closer on the way down the stairs. “somethin’ ain't right here.”

The front door locked before Tommy made it down.

Joel was calm. “Slow down, take a breath.”

Tommy replied, “I don’t like that look you’re givin’ me, brother.”

Joel told him, “You need to sit down and listen to me.”

“Joel, if I don’t come back, Bill’s comin’ over here.”

"She's safe," Joel insisted. "C'mere, let's have a drink."

The footsteps faded into the living room, then stopped abruptly. "What the hell's that?" The footsteps slowly resumed, then stopped again. Then, the rustling of fabric. Tommy's voice was shaky. "What the hell is this, Joel?"

"Shhhhh. Ain't what ya think."

"Don't look like it," Tommy laughed in bad humor, then composed his nerves into calm anger. "What'd you do, Joel?"

"Nothin', Tommy. It’s her period, damn. Now sit down."

"I may be the only one who knows how dangerous you are, but don't act like I don't fuckin’ know.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

Joel responded, “You don’t."

You held your neck, looking around the room. Your pulse was pounding against the heel of your palm.

“I don't? What the hell’s that s'posed to mean?”

“I’m in love with her, Tommy." Your heart swelled.

"Jesus. . ."

Tommy mumbled something else, and Joel responded, “She's not a kid."

"She's Bill's kid," Tommy countered.

"Not anymore. And I’ll do anything to keep her." After a pause, Joel added, “I mean anything.”

"I fuckin' know you do," Tommy snapped.

"Then we’re clear," Joel said. "Tell'em ya didn't wanna wake her up."

"Not ‘til I see her," Tommy insisted.

There was a beat of silence, then Joel offered, "Cool off first, have a drink. Don't wanna scare her."

Your heart raced. Their voices became indistinct as they moved towards the kitchen.

—---------

You sat on the bed stunned. Your parents were home, and you weren't as happy as you imagined you'd be to hear it. You were wholly preoccupied by Tommy's words. Joel was dangerous. You had already come to know it in your heart, but hearing someone else say it out loud had your mind racing. You never thought about what that meant for you. The worst part was the fear in Tommy’s voice. Would Joel do something to Tommy? His own brother? They were family. You and Joel were family.

You got up and went into Joel's closet. You pulled out a flannel and put it on over your nightgown. You built up your courage, then slowly opened Joel’s bedroom door.

—---------------

You emerged from the bedroom, unsure how either of them would react. You pulled the flannel over your hands, hiding the ring. As you tiptoed into the living room, Joel was on the sofa facing away from you. Tommy was facing you and saw you first. He was holding a mostly empty glass of whiskey. Joel's glass was already empty on the coffee table. Tommy sat upright and swallowed. He put his glass down on the side table.

“Hey,” Tommy's voice was soft, like he didn't want to startle you. “You okay?”

Joel looked over his shoulder, then turned his body.

“Yeah,” you nodded and walked over to them, looking at Joel. Joel's face softened as he looked at you. You sat on one of Joel’s thighs, your bare feet on the floor holding some of your weight.

“They're home, darlin’,” Joel said and looked at you with pleading eyes. “wanna go now, or let’em get some rest, see’em in the mornin’?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Let’em get some rest.”

Tommy sat back and raised his eyebrows in surprise. When you looked right at him, the dress caught your eye on the other chair and your chest felt hot.

Joel cradled your head with one hand and kissed you on the cheek. “Ok, peaches. Give Uncle Tommy a kiss goodnight, then go back to bed."

You looked at Joel hesitantly. He nodded toward Tommy and flexed his jaw.

Tommy watched you curiously as you approached. You gave him a loose hug around the neck and the lightest peck on the cheek.

“Night, sweetie,” Tommy mumbled.

You went back to Joel's lap and put your arms around his neck. He looked at you and you searched his eyes. He gave you a chaste kiss on the lips and whispered, "Go on. I'll be there soon," with a wink. His hand was big and warm on your back as you stood up to walk away.

—

Before you closed the bedroom door behind you, Tommy said, "Okay, she's not a kid. . . Don't mean it's right."

Their conversation became indistinct until Tommy was leaving a few minutes later.

Joel said, “I’ll leave it unlocked. You can stay upstairs.”

The front door opened and closed.

—------

You weren't planning on it but as soon as the front door began to close, your legs carried you into Joel's bathroom, and your shaking hand closed the door. You sat on the tiled floor against the door. Your heart pounded. Joel would never do anything to hurt you. Why was your body reacting this way? Your eyes felt weak. You didn't want him to see you scared or upset, but this couldn't be much better. You closed your eyes and tried to get back to that place you were in the orchard where everything in the universe made sense.

Joel came into the bedroom and shut the door behind him. "Aw, baby" he said to himself as he realized where you were. He took off his pants and put the gun back in the drawer, then approached the bathroom door. "You in there, peaches?”

“Yeah,” you managed weakly.

“Can I come in?” Joel tried to open the door and found it was locked.

“Not now.” You wanted to stop crying first.

After a moment of silence, he slid down the other side of the door and sat down. “Can ya talk to me, baby?”

You sniffled, then whined, “I dunno what to say.”

Joel sighed and you heard the soft thud of his head resting against the other side of the door. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whimpered.

“We’re a family now, baby. Gotta work through whatever you’re feelin’.”

You scooted back and slowly opened the door.

Joel came in and sat on the tile next to you, your backs against the door. He stroked your thigh. His voice was soft. “Wanna come back to bed or wanna talk in here?”

“Here.”

“Okay,” he whispered. He was studying your eyes, desperate to read them.

You winced with a cramp and put your hand where it hurt. He went to get you a pill and came back. He handed you the pill and a glass of water. “Want me to run you a bath?”

You shook your head no. You didn't need a third bath.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“What’s wrong?” you repeated.

You looked at him, hating the fact that he was going to make you ask him. Earlier, you said you didn't want to know. You wanted it to stay an abstract, romantic concept that he would kill for you. But the way Tommy was talking, you felt like you needed something. You felt like you needed to know Joel better.

Joel took a deep breath in through his nose. His voice was soft and careful. “Tommy’s my brother, and I love’m, but .. .sometimes, brothers. . . .” He was searching for words, and at the same time, searching your face for an out. He gave up and his voice dropped an octave. “What’d ya hear, darlin’?”

You heard the words come out of your mouth before you could stop them. "How'd you kill him?"

Joel squinted and searched your face. “Who?”

“What happened to Jesse?” you asked. Joel looked up at the ceiling and his nostrils flared. His chest expanded with a calming breath. You continued, “I don’t care about him at all. I don’t even care if you killed him but I wanna know."

"Thought ya didn't wanna know."

"Now I do."

“I dunno if that’s a good idea, peaches.”

“You said you’d do anything for me. This is what I need, I need you to tell me.”

Joel sighed and swallowed, then nodded. “There was an accident.”

"What kind of accident?"

"He fell."

“What? Like from a tree?”

“No, when he was diggin’.”

You felt lightheaded imagining the garden beds, and the way Joel tucked the pumpkin flower behind your ear. Something told you he was still out there. You tried not to show anything on your face.

You asked, “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“‘Cause it was my fault. I scared him. Didn't want ya to be afraid."

“What happened?“

“Won’t do ya any good knowin’ that, darlin’.” Joel sighed. “Might make ya feel bad.”

“I don’t care, just tell me.” What bothered you was that it wasn't even serious with the boy. It was nothing like it was with Joel. So Joel didn't have to do whatever he did. All Joel had to do was love you and you would've dropped everything else in an instant. All Joel had to do was hug you. You really believed that.

“He was gonna hurt ya, darlin'." You found that hard to believe, but heard him out. You reflexively squinted but tried not to look too skeptical.

"Hurt me how."

“He was talkin’ like. . . he was talkin’ disrespectful.”

Your face burned, thoughts flying around in your head about what he possibly could have said.

Joel did a double take at your face and noticed how embarrassed you were. “Darlin’, you really don’t need to be hearin’ this.”

“Just tell me.”

"So when he tried to touch ya. . .”

“You were watching us?”

“I was worried, darlin’. Just lookin’ out for ya.”

“So you saw me stop it, then.”

“Sure did, and I was proud of ya.” There was nothing to be proud of. It wasn't on any moral grounds, you were just nervous in Joel's orchard. And apparently, you had every reason to be.

“So what happened?”

“So, next time we were workin', it came up again. . ."

Your mouth felt dry.

Joel continued, "I told him that’s not how to treat a woman, that you deserved better.”

Your heart pounded. “And you were really mad, that's why he fell.”

Joel nodded, and you nodded. You could picture the rest of it, but you didn't want to. You imagined that when he fell, that wasn't the end of it.

You took his hand. “Thank you for telling me.”

Joel kissed your hand and breathed a sigh of relief.

“And thanks for doing that," you added.

Joel squinted at you, taken aback. “Doin’ what, darlin’?”

“Whatever you had to do. . . for me.”

Joel studied your face as though it might have been a trick. It wasn’t. He slowly nodded. He kissed your hand again. “You don’t hate me.”

“Of course I don’t hate you, I love you.”

Joel’s eyes watered. “This is true love, baby. Unconditional.”

You asked, “Can I ask you something else?”

“Anything, peaches.”

"Who else?”

"Uh," Joel squinted.

"I asked you how you killed him, and you asked who."

"Oh, darlin'," he chuckled.

"Did Abe really leave?"

Joel inhaled then puffed out his cheeks as he let out the breath and hesitantly shook his head no.

“He was in bad shape when I found him. Gettin’ sick, talkin’ crazy..”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were already scared. . . didn’t wanna make it worse.”

You barely nodded, trying to process all this, wondering if there was more to it, but consciously pushing the thought away. You wondered whether you would've been more or less scared if you knew something happened to Abe.

"You're a smart girl, peaches."

“What’d Tommy mean when he said you’re dangerous?”

Joel wiggled his jaw and looked away, then back at you. “I’ve made some mistakes. Used to let my temper get the best of me.” He looked down. “Don’t drink like I used to.”

He scooted around on the tile to face you. He picked up both your hands and looked at you with big, pleading eyes. “But no matter what, you gotta believe I would never, ever hurt you, baby." His eyes were glistening. "There’s no part'a me that would. I’d sooner hurt myself.”

You looked at his mouth and just as you saw the smallest quiver, he wet his lips and swallowed.

You whispered, “I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Good.” He sighed in relief.

You took your hands away and tightened the flannel around you, then said, “and you wouldn’t hurt anyone I love, because that would hurt me."

Joel swallowed and inhaled through his nose, waiting uncomfortably for you to continue.

You looked at each other for a few seconds, then you asked, “Are Bill and Frank gonna be okay here?”

He looked away, then back at you before muttering, “I hope so, darlin'.”

“Even if we can't be together right away?”

Joel squinted at you incredulously. “What're you talkin’ ‘bout, can’t be together?" He scoffed coldly, making your temples hurt. "I’m sure as hell not lettin’ Tommy tell me what to do. You gonna let them tell you what to do?”

“No. . .” You didn’t know what else to say.

“We talked about this, darlin’. You change your mind?”

You shook your head. “Guess I’m still nervous. Thought maybe it'd take time."

Joel clenched his jaw, opened his mouth to speak. Then closed it again. When he did speak, he was calm and measured. “There’s no scenario where we’re not together, peaches." He raised his eyebrows at you and added flatly, "We promised each other forever.”

“I know,” you whispered.

“And I meant it,” he added with a hint of accusation.

You protested, “I did, too.” You did.

"Well I still mean it."

"I do, too." You weren't lying. Somehow, you didn't want it any less. If anything, your heart wanted it more. You wondered if you went too far in your questions.

He pried your hands off the flannel to hold them. You tried to relax but your hands were still tense.

He dipped his head to make eye contact with you and didn't blink. “You and me together. No matter what.” He closed his eyes for a breath and sighed. When his eyes met yours again, he added, “No matter where.”

Your heart fluttered.“No matter where?”

He nodded with a deep inhale through his nose. His eyes wandered, then found yours again. “yeah, no matter where."

This tugged at your heart. Was he really willing to take you out?

"There's another town . . . Ain't easy gettin’ there, but I reckon if we're real careful. . .”

You pondered it silently. You wanted to see the world outside, but you never thought about moving. You wanted to live with Joel on this land forever, but you wanted your parents to be okay, too. Leaving altogether seemed so sudden, so huge.

You asked, “Really? You would take me out?”

“Scares me to death,” he admitted. "But I just wanna be with you, peaches."

You stayed quiet for a minute.

"Ain't right they kept ya here all your life," he muttered.

The thought of leaving forever was scary, but if that's what it took to keep your parents safe, you would. Joel was your home anyway. You could feel at home anywhere with him.

You asked, “Would I get to say goodbye?”

His mouth tensed and he looked at the floor.

"Not out loud," you conceded. "But could I see them again first?"

He was quiet, reading your face. "If that's what ya need," he nodded somberly.

“Spend a little time with them?” You asked.

“How much time?” Joel countered.

“I don’t know, a few days?”

“You wanna be apart that long?”

“No, but. . . no”

Joel sighed. “Let’s figure this out tomorrow, k?”

He cradled your head and whispered, “We’ll figure it out.” He pressed his lips into yours, giving you the slowest, most tender kiss. He pulled back and your eyes clouded up.

“I love you,” you whispered. “More than anything.”

He nodded, tears in his eyes.

You added, “And there’s no ‘but’. I’ll go anywhere to be with you.”

He pulled you into straddling him. Your arms wrapped around him all on their own and you were soothed. It was true, you had given him everything. You were hollow without it, without him. But up against his body, wrapped in his big arms, you felt complete again. You felt safe.

You could feel his manhood beneath you, warm and soft. He hugged you tight and drew in a ragged breath. He held you and stroked your head for a minute. His cock hardened a little with your crotch against it. You were beginning to feel the painkiller. “Sorry, baby,” he whispered. You yawned. “Thought we’d have more time.” The front door opened, and you flinched.

“Just Tommy," Joel whispered. "He’s gonna stay upstairs tonight, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s go to bed, baby.”

You braced yourself with your hands on his shoulders and stood up. He hooked his thumbs under the flannel collar to help you take it off, but you pulled it tighter around yourself.

Joel pulled his hands away, then rubbed your back. "Okay, darlin'."

You got in bed, curled up on your side. Joel draped his arm over you and asked, “this okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded and loosely laced your fingers with his in front of you.

“‘S’gonna be fine, baby. We’ll figure it out.”

“I don’t wanna be apart,” you sniffled.

“We’re not gonna be,” he reassured you. “Ever.”

-----

THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER. AND YOU WILL HAVE MORE SEX.

However, this is on soft hiatus until after Halloween unless i really feel like putting out the next chapter. Too many seasonal things to cook.

Thank you so much for reading and engaging <3

I'll reblog or comment with Lincoln tag list.

@toxicfics for notifications. The tag list is not long for this world.

All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #dark!joel miller #joel miller x innocent!reader #joel miller x virgin!reader #toxicanonymity ☠️#lincoln!joel #lincoln!joel ☠️#possessive!joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #tw arachnophobia #cw age gap

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multifandomimagin3s · 1 year

Text

Reader is angry at them - 141 + Los Vaqueros

Requested by Anon

mentions of sex, no actual smut, reader is gender neutral.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

His reaction would probably depend on multiple factors: why you were angry in the first place, if he's angry at you too, and how close he is to you in the first place.

If you weren't close, he probably wouldn't give a shit - if you were in the military he would probably pull rank, using his status to put you in your place should your anger towards him impair your abilities on a mission.

If you two were close, he'd probably either give you the silent treatment or would be upfront, asking you "Right, what's the fucking problem?"

If he's angry at you too, mans is stubborn as a bull.

He'd probably remove himself from your presence entirely if he gets to the point he feels physically angry - with all his past trauma, he doesn't want to risk hurting you in a fit of anger.

You'd probably have to talk to him first unless he was genuinely in the wrong, but even then he'd only truly apologise if you were genuinely hurt by what he'd said or done.

Well, apologise is a strong word in this context - you'd probably get a gruff "sorry" since he's a man of few words and doesn't like making himself vulnerable.

The make-up sex would be 10/10 - he can't verbalise what he wants to say, so he'd rather show you.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

Less stubborn than Ghost but not by much.

If you're angry at him, he wants you to just tell him outright so you can talk it out.

If you don't tell him, then it's the silent treatment.

If he's aware that he's done something to upset you, then he is in fact quick to apologise - flowers, chocolates, the whole nine yards.

Probably would be the type to try and make you laugh when you're angry - and dammit it works nearly every time.

He's generally a happy-go-lucky guy so if he's angry at you, it would probably be over something important - like if you were on a mission together and you risked your life either to save his or another teammate's.

In which case, he wouldn't hide his feelings at all - he wears his heart on his sleeve, and tells you just how much you mean to him and how the thought of loosing you makes him feel physically sick to his stomach.

Captain John Price

Hm, I think his reactions would be interesting.

He's older and more mature, has seen some shit in his life that were more than a bit traumatising to say the least.

He's also of high ranking within the military, and is more than used to dealing with the anger of others and dishing out his own share.

Similarly to Ghost, it would all depend on how close you two were to begin with.

If you're not close and you're a lower rank than him, be prepared for months of bathroom duty, intensive training and god knows what other punishments he has up his sleeve - not in the fun way either.

If you are close, he'd probably just ask you to tell him what's bothering you - if he can fix it, consider it done. If it's something bigger, then you can talk about it, he's relatively reasonable when it comes to most things.

If he's angry at you too - he doesn't do the silent treatment and doesn't do angry outbursts either.

He's calm - so calm, it's almost unnerving.

He can voice his anger with a calm tone - it feels as if you're dancing on the edge of a knife.

If you were giving him the silent treatment, he'd leave you to it - if it went on for a long period of time, then he'd confront you because he's "too old for this shit."

The best way for you both to get your frustrations out? Sex. After not being able to talk to you for what felt like weeks, he secretly craves the intimacy.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

See I can't see him getting angry over anything minor - he's too laidback for that.

Like with Soap, if you risked your life for his on a mission, oh he would be pissed.

But he probably wouldn't tell you outright - you'd have probably gotten some choice words from Price about being reckless; "Don't let me catch you trying something like that again, you fucking muppet!"

He'd go dead silent - not to be confused with the silent treatment though, the anger is there and it isn't dormant, just bubbling up.

Would probably start his rant once you asked him if he was okay.

No, he wasn't.

He'd be pacing in his room, going on and on about how stupid it was for you to practically try and get yourself killed to save him, how the team needs you, how much he loves and cares about you, and how guilty he would feel if you did in fact die trying to save his life.

I reckon he'd start to cry out of anger, at which point you'd hug him and let him get it all out of his system.

He's not a big crier, but this wasn't just a run of the mill thing.

Please don't pull anything like that again.

Alejandro Vargas

Silent treatment? Never heard of it.

He's a passionate man through and through, so if he's angry at you then he's going to tell you. And probably loudly.

Always feels guilty if he ends up yelling at you during an argument and apologises soon after.

He too wears his heart on his sleeve - well he would but as he tells you all the time, you have his heart.

If he had it his way, he would protect you from all harm that the world could throw your way; and he sure tries to.

When you're angry at him, he'd probably try to woo you out of it - depending on what you're angry about this usually works, he can be very smooth.

Also a big fan of make-up sex - angry sex lets him release his pent up frustrations in a healthier way, and it lets him show how much he loves you.

If you tell him why you're angry at him, he'd listen; if it was over something relatively small like him leaving things lying around your apartment or him eating your leftovers, then he'd make mental notes not to do it again; if it was over something bigger, like how dangerous his job is and how he risks his life on the regular, he probably wouldn't respond well to it.

It's his job and his comrades are family to him - he doesn't plan on giving it up anytime soon, so that would be a big talk you guys would have to have.

Overall, he's a stubborn guy but he has your best interests at heart.

Rudy Parra

On the outside, he's a quiet guy.

But he's also a Sergeant Major - so it's not as if getting angry isn't in his toolkit.

If you're angry at him, he'd encourage you to just tell him, let it out - shout at him, cry, whatever you need to do, just don't go silent on him.

He's a grown man, he can take it.

When he's angry though, he's a bit of a hypocrite - he wouldn't yell at you or voice his frustrations for a while, but wouldn't go silent either.

He'd just give you this grumpy look >:(

You'd eventually be able to talk it out but he's thought through everything he wants to say about a million times in his head first.

I think make-up sex would be probably the last thing he'd be thinking of in the moment, he'd much rather just have some intimacy between you two - whether that be watching a movie together, cuddling, going out somewhere, just some time to yourselves.

If he genuinely was at fault, he'd dote on you - even more than he usually does.

He'd run you a bath, give you a massage, cook you a meal, you name it.

He doesn't like it when you're both angry at each other and aren't talking so when you're able to talk it out and make amends, he shows how his heart beats for you.

#simon riley #soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #alejandro vargas #rudy parra #simon riley x reader #soap mactavish x reader #captain price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rudy parra x reader #call of duty #cod #multifandomimagin3s

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ohbo-ohno · 8 months

Text

don't leave me locked in your heart (chap 2) - ghost x soap x reader

summary: Soap sees you dancing at a bar and decides you'd make the perfect anniversary present for Ghost, so he tempts you into going home with him one night and simply… doesn't let you leave in the morning.

word count: 8.2k

cw: NONCON!!!! dark!!! light petplay (ghost calls soap mutt/dog/puppy), dom!ghost, switch!soap, sub!reader, restraints, gags, ghoap are a little deranged

chapter 1/2 here, read on ao3, see the pinterest board

He could’ve fucking warned you.

“Simon” is terrifying. His eyes are locked on yours over Johnny’s head, and they’re terrifying.

He’s nearly a full head taller than Johnny, who was already the biggest man you’d ever gone home with. And on top of that, Simon looks like he’s twice as muscular. His arms bulge in his sleeves and you can literally trace his abs. He’s wearing a sweatshirt and you can trace his abs.

You’ll die if this man tries to fuck you. There’s simply no way his dick isn’t monstrous, and if it’s even proportional to the rest of him you’ll surely split in half. And considering the fucking bulge in his sweatpants? It’s a hell of a lot more than just proportional.

The skeleton mask and eye paint certainly don’t make him look any less intimidating. They clash with the short bit of dirty blonde hair he’s got, but it hardly matters when half of the face he’s revealing is literally painted black.

After a moment of eye contact you couldn’t break if you tried, he lets go of Johnny, taking the few steps to the bed in long strides and standing at the edge without brushing it. You’re frozen in fear, some ancient animal instinct in your head begging you to lay still and submissive in the face of a predator.

His head tilts a bit to the side, gaze sliding over your body in a way that would offend you, were you in any other position with any other man. He’s silent as one hand reaches out to trace the trembling muscles in your thigh and you can’t hold the small noise of fear back with your mouth held open. His hand doesn’t stop, just continues tracing up and down, up and down.

Johnny slides behind Simon, wrapping his arms around the other’s waist and leaning around to look at you. “Yknow,” he starts, nuzzling into the side of Simon’s arm. “She squirts when you fuck her right.”

“That so?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And you managed that?”

Johnny makes an offended little noise but there’s a smirk playing on his lips, and you cannot believe the nonchalance.

Johnny moves from behind Simon to kneel between your legs again. Your eyes follow him and his eager smirk as he bends his head towards your core, and you can’t help but up.

Then there’s a hand in his mohawk, yanking his head straight back so he’s staring at up the ceiling. No, not the ceiling - Simon, where he’s bent over the smaller man.

“Now, who said you could do that?” Simon rumbles, his hand continuing its slow stroke up the inside of your thigh. “Hm?” He asks again when Johnny doesn’t reply, jostling the man’s head in his grip.

“S-sorry, L.t.,” he pants, pupils blown wide and mouth dropped open just enough for him to poke his tongue out.

Simon only makes another low noise in his chest, neither approving or disapproving, and tugs Johnny back off the bed. The man follows easily and your eyebrows furrow a bit - the Johnny you were with last night was dominant through every round, but this Johnny? He’s falling to his knees at a man’s feet with just a nudge.

Simon pets his hand over Johnny’s head where he now rests, then brings his eyes back to yours. “Better. Now stay.”

Then he leans forward.

You make a high noise in your throat, irrationally trying to wiggle away as the man becomes all you can see. But he doesn’t go for any of your very available vulnerable places, instead reaching up to… untie you?

To your shock, that’s exactly what he’s doing. His fingers make quick work of pulling the rope from the slats of the headboard, but when you go to yank your hand away from him, you realize it’s still tied securely to your ankle. He lowers your limbs surprisingly gently to the bed, then frees your other bound wrist.

When he’s done he scoops you under the armpits, lifting you entirely off the bed for a moment and dropping you on your knees. You crumble as much as you can, back bending and head dropped low so you don’t have to look at him, don’t have to think about what you know he’s about to do to you.

“Head up, doll,” Simon grunts, but you can’t bring yourself to listen, watching little drops of spit drip from your mouth. You can see Johnny’s naked knees on the floor. There’s a sigh above you, then Simon’s hand reaching down and grasping firmly under your chin, forcing your head up and holding your eyes again.

His thumb strokes softly over your bottom lips while he considers you. You glare up at him, but he’s unfazed. He leans a little closer, then sighs again.

“Pouting won’t get either of us to let you go,” he says simply. A statement of fact - not cruel, or mocking, just… the truth. Your eyes squeeze shut as understanding finally, truly, sinks in and you feel the warm track of a tear down your cheek. Simon doesn’t give you time to dwell. “Was Johnny good to you last night?”

“Of courseI -!”

“Not asking you, puppy,” Simon growls, tone going from soft-ish to stern like whiplash, though his thumb remains soft where it wipes the tear off your cheek. “I’m asking your little stray. So?” His hand nudges your chin up, a little jerk, and you open your eyes on instinct.

Johnny was good to you last night. You came five times, there isn’t much else you could’ve expected from a one night stand. Except for the fact that he tied you up and gagged you, he would’ve been the perfect candidate for a FWB situation.

Still, you can’t really get past the kidnapping thing. So you glare down at the kneeling man as best you can with your chin held high as it is and shake your head with the little room Simon gives.

“What?” Johnny barks, raising up on his knees and shooting you a glare. “That’s not true, L.t., I was fuckin’ great to her!”

Simon hums a little, thumb still stroking. “I don’t know, Johnny. She looks right pissed with you.”

Johnny huffs, but settles back on his ankles when Simon’s free hand moves to the nape of his neck. “She’s just pissy she can’t leave. Brat.”

“You’re the only one being a brat right now, MacTavish.”

There’s a little grumble of disagreement from the floor.

“Alright,” Simon starts, standing to his full height and taking both of his hands back. “You can’t fuck her today.”

Your eyes go wide at such an explicit command, accompanied by a sharp “What the fuck?!” from Johnny.

“Don’t start fuckin’ barkin’ at me, Johnny. Shoulda been better if you wanted to fuck her again.”

“But I was good to her, she’s just pitchin’ a fit!”

Simon looks down at you, tense and glaring, about as far from “pitchin’ a fit” as one could probably be in your situation and snorts. "Bit of a reach, Johnny. And it don't matter anyway, cause you'll do as you're told."

Another unhappy noise, followed by a petulant, “Yes, sir.”

It’s good enough for Simon, who finally moves to get on the bed. He settles against the headboard, then reaches and lifts you beneath your armpits again. You can’t help the helpless noise of fear in your throat as you’re left just floating for a moment, before Simon settles you over his thighs.

He spreads his legs, spreading yours along with them. You’re forced into an arch as your wrists move with your ankles, and you anxiously shift back and forth on your knees.

“Settle, doll,” Simon rumbles, hands stroking rope to hip up your legs. “Johnny - on the bed, behind her.”

Johnny quickly obeys, and while he does Simon tugs his sweatpants down. He only pulls them far enough to hook beneath his balls, and you can’t help the panicked noises as his cock flops up against his stomach, fully erect.

You were right. He’s gonna tear you apart. Your heart beats faster at just the thought.

Simon huffs at your wide eyed reaction, shifting his legs up. The movement forces you down to sit on his dick, and his knees pull up behind your body, shimmying his sweats lower on his legs. “Panicky little thing, aren’t ya?”

You keen lowly in response, eyes still glued to the massive length this man is about to force into your body, unable to still your shaking hands. Johnny makes a low noise behind you, and you feel his hands begin to trace up and down your sides. “‘S ok, lovie,” he murmurs, head ducked into your throat. “I told you you’d like Simon, yeah? He’ll be good to you.”

It shouldn’t bring you any comfort to hear those words from the man who put you in this position in the first place, but the warm sets of hands combined with Johnny’s newly familiar weight at your back has your muscles relaxing against your will. Your eyes squeeze shut at the realization that your brain and your body are completely split when it comes to these men.

“There ya go,” Johnny rumbles, and you hate the little smirk you can feel against your skin as his teeth start to gnaw at your neck.

“Johnny, back down,” Simon says suddenly, leaning forward and pushing the other man back with a palm on his forehead. He goes easily, albeit with a little whine. “Good boy.”

Then, with no warning, Simon stuffs two fingers into your cunt.

You jolt forward with a little shriek, losing your balance since your hands are still attached to your ankles. Simon’s free hand steadies you by the shoulder and you can’t keep the moan of pleasure trapped in your chest as he crooks his fingers.

You lose track of time as he stretches you, thrusting slowly but with an almost punishing strength before eventually adding a third finger. You whine at the stretch, arching your tits high in the air as your hips try to move away from the intrusion.

“Down, girl,” Simon rumbles, hand reaching out to press solidly on the center of your chest. “Gonna fuck those wrists up ‘f you keep jerkin’ away like that.”

You can’t keep yourself from glaring at him for that, and his painted eyes crinkle above the skull mask.

Bastard.

You can feel Johnny getting antsy behind you, the mattress shifting back and forth and his breathing becoming heavier and heavier. But Simon ignores him, so you do too.

Eventually, he deems you stretched enough for him. His fingers slip out of you and his hand raises to your face, soaked fingers pushing past the ring gag and to rest heavily on your tongue. You realize why when he reaches down to grip his cock, angling the tip to your hole. Your noise of surprise is muffled by the digits.

You can’t help but clench up tight, staring wide eyed at Simon. He glances up from where he had been staring at your core, eyes boring into yours with an intensity that shocks you. “Gotta relax if this’ll work, doll.”

He must see the lack of appeal to that in your face, because a moment later he adds, “It’s happening either way, but relaxing will make it better for you. I’ll fuck you either way.”

His fingers block the mournful little noise you make. Then, when you relax as much as you can and he pushes into you, they block the sharp yelp. “There you go, atta girl,” he hums.

“Johnny, guide her down,” Simon commands, moving his hand from his dick to your nipple, plucking and twisting lazily as he fucks his fingers in and out of your mouth at the same lazy pace. Johnny’s hands are immediately on your hips, stilling the drop you hadn’t been able to slow before you can fully impale yourself on Simon.

He lowers you slowly, but without pause, and hooks his chin over your shoulder to stare down at where you sink on Simon’s cock. “Doin’ so good, lass,” he murmurs in your ear. The three of you moan in sync when your hips meet Simon’s.

You feel like he’s splitting you down the middle, like you’re being cleaved in half. His size, the position, and being held down so no matter how much you squirm there’s no escape from the intrusion, it all makes you drip like a faucet. As much as you hate your body’s betrayal, you can’t help but be thankful for the natural lubrication to ease the way. You can’t imagine the stretch had you been anything less than soaked.

They let you sit there for a second, Johnny’s hands squeezed tight on your hips and his own hard cock pressed against your back, Simon panting beneath you with eyes half lidded as he watches his hands work on you. You can’t help the way your torso squirms at Simon’s merciless pinches.

The moment of stillness passes, and Simon’s hands move to replace Johnny’s.

“Johnny,” Simon rumbles, lifting and dropping you just the smallest bit, ignoring your moan.

“Yeah, L.t.?” the smaller replies, hips beginning to hump against your back as he buries his face in your hair.

“Want your mouth on my balls. Get on your back.”

Johnny’s obedience is instantaneous. He drops to his back and you can feel his breath against your ass as he gets settled.

“Hands on my knees,” Simon commands. “This isn’t about you right now. No touching. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then get to work.”

Simon obeys his own order as much as Johnny does, setting his feet more comfortably and lifting you high off his dick. You whine at the anticipation, clenching tightly on just the tip as you hear Johnny’s mouth get to work.

Simon drops you on his dick, thrusting up at the same time and forcing a grunt from you. His pace begins in earnest, hips slapping against you ass as he fucks you like you’re nothing more than a fleshlight he’d use to masturbate.

You lose yourself in the pleasure, moans and whimpers slipping from your lips without your notice as the pleasure continues relentlessly. Occasionally Johnny’s tongue slips to your ass when Simon bottoms out in you, and every time it draws a yip from you that makes Simon fuck into you all the harder.

An eternity later he slows his pace, his own hips no longer thrusting and instead lifting and dropping you by the hips for long, slow jabs up into you. The slower pace gives Johnny a chance to move his work to you, and as the slow pace continues his tongue lingers on your back hole longer and longer on each thrust.

When Simon realizes what’s happening he lets out an angry snarl, one that nearly scares you out of the pleasure-drunk haze you’ve fallen into.

“Bad dog!” He nearly shouts, hand leaving your hip to grab Johnny by the hair and yank him up to his knees, ignoring the shocked and pained whine. “What did I say?” He grunts, hips working much faster now, pounding up into you. You hear a loud smack, and jolt at the knowledge that Simon had just slapped Johnny, and the ensuing moan that Johnny lets out. “Told you to suck my fuckin’ balls. Didn't say a damn word about eatin’ the toy’s ass out - her pleasure ain’t your concern, puppy. Get your tongue back on my balls ‘fore I lock you in the fuckin’ closet til I’m done.”

“Yes, sir,” Johnny moans, breath heavy and tone almost reproachful. When he slides back down to his back his sucking noises are far lounder, and you no longer feel his tongue sneak up to you.

“Much better,” Simon growls, still not sounding satisfied. Both of his hands lock back onto your hips and he gives you a few more harsh thrusts before dropping you completely, pushing your weight down onto Johnny’s face. He holds you there for a few moments, seemingly unconcerned with the man buried in his balls’ ability to breathe.

After a bit he hums in satisfaction, one hand dragging up to your back and between your shoulder blades, giving you a solid shove into his chest. You yelp at the change in position, now much more vulnerable. His cock is still deep in your cunt, but your chest leaning against his forces your ankles and wrists high into the air, knees dug in beside Simon’s ribs. You feel off-kilter, only balanced by the thick cock deep in your cunt and your knees, which only stay in the same spot because you squeeze them tight to Simon’s ribs.

“There ya go, doll,” he rumbles, voice rumbling in his throat where your face rests. “Just lay still and let me fuck you, hm? Good girl.”

You’re not entirely sure why he’s praising you when you couldn’t have less control of the situation, but you don’t care when he starts thrusting up into you again.

It’s infuriatingly pleasurable. His tip drills into your g-spot on nearly every spot in this position, drawing whines and squeals from you, but you still can’t come without a touch on your clit. Tears well up in your eyes as you linger just at the precipice, hips humping as much as they can to try and push over that edge.

You’re stilled by a sharp smack on your ass. “I said lay still,” Simon growls, slapping your ass for another time without pausing his hips. “You’re a fuckin’ toy right now, toys don’t wiggle around like girls do.”

The filthy words draw a long moan from your throat and you hear a muffled laugh beneath your ass.

Simon doesn’t like that any more than you do. He lifts his hips high in the air before slamming what must be his sac on Johnny’s face. “What do you think you’re laughing at, mutt? You can’t do more than suck at my balls, you gonna laugh when you don’t even get to get fucked?” Johnny whines beneath the two of you. “That’s what I thought.”

Time becomes a blur as Simon fucks you. You’re just what he said, a toy. You can’t move where he holds you down, can’t do anything other than moan at the deep thrusts he gives you. You stare through tear-filled eyes at the walls, unable to do anything but focus on the pleasure.

So you’re shocked when Simon grunts from above you, hooking his hands beneath your thighs and holding tight as he flips the two of you around. The switch leaves you flat on your back, Simon’s massive frame the only thing you can see. Johnny’s head rests between your thighs, Simon essentially sitting on his head.

Simon sits up straight, weight leaned back on his heels and pulling you with him so he doesn’t have to pull out. He reaches a hand down to adjust his balls, and now you can see the way Johnny sucks at them enthusiastically, switching between both of them with fervor. “Good boy,” Simon murmurs once he’s seemingly satisfied with Johnny’s work. His attention shifts back to you and he moves his hands up to where you’re bound, grabbing both your ankles and forcing them back to rest by your head.

You let out a sharp noise at the stretch, but Simon just shushes you and continues to push. When your hands touch the bed he shifts his hold to just one hand, holding your legs together and forcing them just to the right of your head so he can stare down at your face.

You thank God you’re as flexible as you are.

Simon makes a pleased noise in his throat as he keeps you in his preferred position. He settles more comfortably on his knees and begins his fucking again, thrusts hard and deep with his free hand gripped tight on your ribs.

You moan at the pleasure, but can’t keep your brows from furrowing as you know you still won’t be able to come like this.

After only a few thrusts, Johnny sucking noises still loud in the room, Simon drops his head closer to yours and hunches further over you. “Needy girl, aren’t you?” He asks, breaths puffing through the mask and onto your face where he hovers only inches away. “Need a lot of attention to get off, huh?” You think he might be smiling a little under the mask, able to see what you think might be his mouth this close.

The hand on your hip slips down to your clit, rough fingers rubbing roughly where you’re slippery. You can’t help the long, drawn out moan at the relief, eyes rolling back in your head as he continues to nail your g-spot with every powerful thrust.

“There she is,” Simon moans from above you, head rolling back on his neck as his fingers move more insistently on your clit.

It takes you mere seconds to come, hips shifting to try and work through the wave that overtakes you. The sound that comes from you would be humiliating if you were anywhere near conscious enough to register it, but you’re so lost in the feeling that you can’t feel anything but pleasure.

Until you come down a bit, and Simon’s pace hasn’t slowed at all. His hips continue hammering into yours, and his fingers continue on your bud.

You make a high sound, wide eyes darting to Simon’s with a panic that feels purely animal in your veins. Everything is too much, you don’t know how to cope with it.

“C’mon, pretty girl,” Simon grunts, oblivious to your turmoil. “Gimme another, yeah? Dontcha wanna soak Johnny’s face, huh? Drown him a little?” You whine in response, an almost injured noise as the pain starts turning to pleasure again. Simon only laughs, leaning down to rest his forehead against your temple. His hand shifts to collar your throat, the breadth of his shoulder holding your legs in place where he wants them. “Yeah, you’re gonna give him a little treat, doll. C’mon, cum again f’r me.”

And your body obeys. You nearly howl at the feeling, clenching down so hard on Simon that he grunts and jerks to a sudden stop buried deep in you. Distantly, in some part of your mind that exists in the here and now, you register the warmth spreading inside of you. But the part of your mind in control only feels the pleasure, only feels the insanity creeping into your head at the inescapable force of it.

It must be minutes later when you finally float back into your own head. Blinking eyes open, you register that you’re empty now, that your feet have been placed on the bed and your arms rest limp by your sides.

Johnny’s hair is soaked with your cum, and despite all the circumstances you can’t help but blush at the realization. His head is still between your legs, but now he licks at the length of Simon’s soft cock while the large man pets his head. It takes you a second to realize he’s cleaning him.

A moment later Simon pulls Johnny off, dragging himself up and flopping with a sigh onto the pillows next to you. His eyes stay shut for a moment before he opens them and flicks a glance to you.

“Johnny,” he says, looking down at the other man.

“Aye?” Johnny replies, looking fucked out despite his rockhard cock as he shifts and rests his head on one of your spread thighs.

“Eat my cum out of her, make sure she comes again. Don’t finger her, just use that tongue of yours.”

You make a disagreeing noise, hardly able to imagine even more pleasure at this point. Surely you must be dehydrated?

“Don’t complain, girl,” Simon rumbles from next to you, one hand grabbing your thigh and forcing it flat to the mattress as Johnny eagerly worms his way higher on the bed. “You’re gettin’ all the pleasure, poor Johnny’s sittin’ there with blue balls. Ain’tcha lucky we’re bein’ so generous?”

You can’t even force yourself to glare as Johnny dives enthusiastically into your worn cunt, can only whine at the sensitivity and jerk your free thigh shut on Johnny’s head. He only moans, hands burrowing beneath you as he shoves himself as deep into you as he can.

Simon’s free hand comes over to shove the back of Johnny’s head further into you, the force causing both of you to moan. “Attaboy, Johnny. Clean her out for me.”

You come quickly. Once Johnny’s tongued all of Simon’s come from your hole he focuses his attention onto your clit, and he hardly has to do any work for you to jerk and moan in place. Simon hums as he lightens up on Johnny’s head, but the smaller man continues to lick and suck at you until your noises shift fully from pleasure to pain.

You think - you hope - they’re done now. But then Johnny kneels up and you see his fully hard cock, and you can’t help but let out a mournful sound knowing you can’t just curl up and pretend it was all a dream.

“Simon,” Johnny moans, face flushed nearly the same shade of his cock, dragging himself close to the other man and flopping over his legs. “Lemme cum, please, please lemme cum?”

“Hmm,” Simon rumbles, hand moving to grip at the nape of Johnny’s neck and knead. “Alright. How about this, puppy - I’ll fuck you and you fuck the toy’s mouth.”

You voice your rejection as much as you can, exhausted as you are, but are nearly drowned out by Johnny’s loud moan and chanting of “yes, yes, yes, thank you so much, sir, thank you”.

“Yeah, yeah. You’ve been good.” He lands a sharp smack on Johnny’s flank urging him up onto his knees.

Simon moves the two of you to his pleasure. You end up half propped up against the headboard, Johnny hunched over you and staring wide-eyed down at you as his cock slowly sinks down your throat. You can’t help but grunt and wiggle as much as possible when Johnny’s knees nearly squeeze either side of your head.

“Stay still. You don’t start fucking her mouth ‘til I’m fucking you, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Johnny pants. “Please.”

“Calm down, Johnny. I’m gonna take care of you.”

You can’t see what’s happening from your position, can only hear the click of what you assume is a bottle of lube and Johnny’s moans as Simon presumably stretches him out. You shut your eyes, breathing deeply through your nose and doing your best not to panic at the inescapable choking sensation.

When Johnny lets out a long moan, Simon grunting over him, you can only assume he’s slid inside. Just seconds later Simon’s head appears over Johnny’s shoulder, glancing down at you as he places his own grip onto the headboard for leverage. His free hand comes around Johnny and down to your head., stroking your hair in a move so tender it surprises you into opening your eyes.

“Alright, Johnny. I fuck your ass, you fuck her mouth. Cum whenever you need to, but I’m not stopping ‘til ‘m good and drained.”

And with that, the cock inside your mouth goes from being an almost - and you hate to admit - comforting weight to pounding so harshly you’re sure your voice will be gone. Your eyes go wide, staring up at where Johnny’s near delirious as his hips rut harshly into your face.

His balls slap your chin, moans slipping out of his mouth loud enough to make you feel pity for his neighbors. You gag repeatedly, so much so you worry you might actually start retching, but you don’t, and the fucking continues.

You can see both of their faces where they’re hunched over you, can see the way their eyes squeeze shut in almost the same way.

Johnny cums quickly, hips stuttering against your face before he buries his entire length down your throat, moan guttural. You can feel little jerks where Simon must still be fucking him as ropes and ropes of cum launch straight down your throat. You moan at the sensation, wiggling from the sensation beneath the two men, and Johnny whines at the overstimulation.

His head drops lower as Simon continues to fuck him, mouth hung open and eye glazed over. A moment later, a drop of spit falls onto your face. Johnny groans loudly at the sight, hips instinctively fucking into your throat even though he’s gone soft.

It’s not long before Simon finishes, letting out a shout of pleasure as he stills and the bed (and Johnny) stop rocking.

The silence is heavy in the aftermath.

Eventually Simon drops away from your eye line, but his hands appear at Johnny’s hips. There’s sounds of licking, sucking, and Johnny’s high pitched moans as he writhes at the overstimulation. A few moments later he slips out of your mouth, his hand moving to desperately tap at the wood of the headboard.

Simon pulls back, moving back where you can see him, and for a moment you’re offended that Johnny gets to tap out but you don’t. You shut your eyes, confident that it’s over now. You can rest, and when you open your eyes you’ll be safely in your apartment, and it’ll turn out that this whole experience was nothing but the best wet dream of your life.

A moment later large fingers - you don’t look to see who’s - brush over your face and to the back of your head, unbuckling the gag and pulling the ring from your mouth slowly. The hand softly cups your jaw, closing it when you don’t move to, and you can’t help but whine at the spike of soreness.

“Oh, baby,” Johnny coos, somehow sounding genuinely sad about your pain. Someone makes quick work of the ropes, and your joints scream in relief as they drop limply to the bed. Johnny, you assume, shifts you onto your side then slips both his arms around your stomach and tucks himself right up to your back. “I’m sorry. We won’t use that one next time, yeah?”

You don’t say anything, can’t say anything - Simon is still holding your mouth shut, and even as gently as he is you can’t open it enough to talk. You drag your eyes open to look at him. He’s just… he’s just staring, you can’t even begin to imagine what he must be thinking. He cocks his head a bit at you, then lets go of your jaw.

As he moves away from the bed you’re left stunned at your newfound freedom. Tentatively, voice quiet and hoarse, you whisper, “J-Johnny…”

The man only hums in response, nuzzling into the back of your head. His side of the mattress dips and you feel Johnny wiggle around a bit, dragging you with him, and then a new pair of hands rest on your stomach around his.

You’re fucking triple spooning. Triple spooning with the man who kidnapped you.

“Johnny,” you try again. “Please, please, I don’t…please let me go…”

“No,” he says immediately, quick and unabashed. A low, mournful noise rips from your battered throat and his arms tighten around you, legs curling up into you more. “It’ll be okay, lovie. Me and Simon are gonna take real good care of you. Right, L.t.?”

There’s a rumble in response.

You can’t help the tears, limbs beginning to struggle against your control. Johnny’s grip only gets more and more restrictive, his hands reaching to grab your sore wrists and hold them still, his thighs squeezing your knees between them until your legs stop kicking.

“Hush, lassie. Panicin’ll do you no good. Deep breaths for me now.”

You can’t. And you don’t feel particularly inclined to do anything he asks of you.

“Johnny,” you gasp. “Wanna go home. Please, please let me go. I won’t tell anyone, not a soul, I promise, please - ”

“You’re already home,” Simon interrupts, reminding you of his presence and making you jerk in their holds. “Johnny brought you here and here you’ll stay. Now sleep.”

You make a high noise of protest, trying again to struggle away from Johnny. You’re stopped by a large sigh and the feeling of Simon’s massive hands suddenly pulling you back in Johnny, holding you there securely by lacing his hands together.

“Sleep.”

Johnny makes a sound you think is supposed to be comforting above you. “It’ll be okay, lass. You don’t need to worry about anythin’ anymore. We’ve got ya now.”

“I said sleep. The both of you.”

There’s a snort of amusement from Johnny as he pulls his face away, resting his chin on top of your head and going still.

You can only tuck your head into the pillow and try to muffle your sobs.

-----

When you wake next, the room is dark. Not dim, like it was before, but dark. You’re immediately put off by the knowledge that one of them got up at some point and you were too deeply asleep to notice.

The next thing you notice is that the bed isn’t empty. You can feel the dip in the mattress at your back, but there aren’t any arms wrapped around you. You can feel the heat of someone’s body, but no skin.

You stare into the blackness as the thought sinks into your half-asleep mind.

You could escape.

Probably.

Maybe?

You have to try, right? You need to leave. You need to go back to your apartment and call the cops on these psychos.

But that means getting out of bed. Getting out of the warm bed and venturing into the pitch black and unfamiliar room, and that’s if you don’t wake up either of the men behind you.

You have to try.

Your breath hitches in your chest as you start to move, inching slowly across smooth sheets and stilling periodically. Your hands are shaking from fear and adrenaline.

You try to move as slowly as possible as you sit up, legs swinging over the side of the bed and praying to any god that’ll listen that neither of the men will notice the shift in weight.

There’s no sound as you drop to the floor. You’ve never been more thankful for carpet.

You move as slowly as you can around the bed, eyes still unadjusted to the dark and unable to see anything that might be in your way. You take small shuffling steps, hands held out in front of you.

Then you trip. You don’t know over what, but it’s solid and decently small and it sends you tumbling to the ground, elbows and knees landing with a solid thud.

Oh god. There’s no way one of them didn’t wake up.

You’re not an idiot, you picked up on the military rank Johnny used. Simon, at least, is military, and if the stereotypes about military men are anywhere near true the noise of your fall woke him.

Sure enough, you hear someone shift on the bed.

You muffle a sob in your palm, biting down on the meat of it and curling up on the carpet. There’s a noise on the other side of the bed, and you know one of them just got out of bed. You try to stumble to crawl somewhere, anywhere, desperate to not ruin what might be your only chance at escape.

Then, without warning, you’re lifted in the air. You can’t help the yelp as you’re tucked into a pair of arms, one beneath your back and the other under your knees keeping you held close to his chest.

“Hush,” Simon says down at you, and you pinch your lips shut in an attempt to stifle your sobs, tears pouring down your face and soaking your neck. He sighs, shifting you until you’re more secure and moving.

It takes you a moment to realize he hasn’t taken you back to the bed. Instead, he’s taken you into another room and nudged the door shut. He places you down on something cold and when he flicks the light on you realize you’re in a bathroom.

You can’t stop your flinch at the bright light, then your second flinch at the sight of Simon in just a pair of boxers and the same mask he wore earlier. How is it possible that he looks bigger shirtless than he did with a sweatshirt on?

He’s covered in scars, to the point that he’s almost got more scars than he does bare skin. And he still wears the mask over the bottom half of his face and neck, though the makeup has been washed away at some point.

The two of you only stare at each other for a second - you, hunched over and scared with distrusting eyes and him, stood tall and proud with an assessing gaze.

Finally, he sighs, moving towards the counter where you sit. You curl into yourself a bit, watching wearily as he stops when your knees brush his stomach. He lifts a hand to your face, cupping your cheek and tilting your head up to his.

“What’s your name, love?”

You almost snort. This man has fucked you, watched his partner - or whatever Johnny is to him - eat you out and fuck your mouth. And he doesn’t even know your name. You whisper it after a moment of silence, followed by a cough when you register that your throat feels like sandpaper.

Simon hums a bit, repeating your name back to you as he reaches around you, filling a small plastic cup with water from the faucet. You track his movements, unsure of what he could do to the water but unwilling to risk anything at this point.

He hands the cup to you a moment later, saying, “Drink. We worked you hard. You need to rehydrate.”

You can’t help the heat that blooms in your cheeks, and your eyes dart away from his as you take quick sips from the cup. His hand moves back to your face, nudging it up. “Don’t try to hide anything from me now, love. I’ve already seen you at your most vulnerable, nothin’ left for you to hide.”

You shudder a bit at the direct way he says it, so plainly laying out what you had thought a moment before.

“I…” you try again, once you’ve finished the cup. “I want to go home. Please.”

His hand only continues to stroke at your cheek, eyes unflinching where they bore into yours. “No. Johnny brought you here for a reason, I won’t have you leavin’ ‘im now.”

You try to resist the tears, but you have less control over your emotions than you do of the man in front of you. “Please,” you try again, reaching to grip his wrist and feeling him go still at the contact. “I-I’m scared. Please, I won’t tell anyone, I swear, but - “

He cuts you off with a deep rumble, hand shifting beneath your jaw and holding it shut. “You’re not leaving. I don’t want to hear you ask again.” His tone is uncompromising and your sore eyes squeeze shut. “But you’ll be taken care of. Johnny and me, we’ll be good to you.”

Your sobs come out against your will, and Simon sighs. A moment later you hear the water running again, then feel something run across your face. You jerk back, eyes opening on instinct and see that he’s holding a damp cloth to your face.

“Hold still a second,” he murmurs, hand holding the back of your head as he wipes beneath your eyes and down your neck. His hand is so large that his thumb rests on the side of your neck while his other fingers rest on the other. You’re tense, but do what he says, eyes squeezing shut when the washcloth gets a little close for your comfort. He’s especially tender as he swipes the rag over your eyelids, and without even noticing, you relax just the tiniest bit in his grip.

It only takes a few moments, but in the silent bathroom it feels like an eternity.

He steps away after apparently deeming you cleaned up enough, moving just a few steps away and bending over the tub.

You stand on shaky legs as soon as his back is turned, stumbling toward the door as the sound of flowing water fills the room.

As your hand wraps around the doorknob, arms wrap around your waist, gently but securely dragging you and placing you back on the counter and completely ignoring your dismayed cry.

“Wobblin’ around like a fawn,” Simon scolds, placing warm hands on your thighs and holding you still when you move to shove at him instinctively. “Where would you even go, huh? Gonna wander the streets naked ‘til some good samaritan spots you?”

You flush at his condescending tone and spit back angrily, “Better than here.”

“Really?” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was offended. “In this neighborhood? Johnny and I are the best you’re gonna get, girl. We’re offering to take care of you and you wanna run off to any scum waiting in the alleys?” He grunts, disgusted. “No. You’ll stay here, and you’ll learn how much better it is. You got that?”

“No!” You burst, legs kicking out at his own before he grabs your knees and shoves into the counter. “You can’t just keep me! I’m not some… some pet for you!’

He surprises you by barking out a harsh laugh, leaning so close to your face that your noses nearly brush and wrapping a hand around your throat. “That’s exactly what you are. A little pet to wait for us at the door, to keep our bed and our cocks warm. A pretty little pet for us to spoil and take care of. The quicker you get it into your thick fuckin’ skull, the easier your life’ll be.”

You bare your teeth up at him, face flushed red from anger and from the steam slowly filling the air. When you don’t respond he grunts and nods once, leaning away from you and moving to turn the flowing water off.

You don’t move from where he put you this time, and when he turns back around he rumbles, “Good girl.”

You don’t know what it says about you that your heart beats a little faster.

He steps back up to you, considers you for a second, then pulls the mask over his head and drops it on the counter.

Simon’s hot. Because of fucking course he’s hot. He’s got scars decorating his face, little nicks that look like they were just deep enough to scar but aren’t more than an inch or so in length. His nose is curved the wrong direction, two bumps in it that make you wonder just how many times it’s been broken. He’s got a broad jaw, high cheekbones, and full lips. His eyebrows hang heavy over his eyes, giving his entire face a severe look.

You deeply resent the blush that grows on your face, forcing a scowl and glancing away. He makes a little hmph sound, and when he steps closer again you can see a little smirk playing on his lips. Ass.

He grabs your elbow, giving you a soft tug to pull you off the counter and leading you to the tub as you stumble behind him. You cross your arms over your chest and hunch your back, suddenly much more aware of your nakedness.

“You get in first,” he grunts, staring at you expectantly over his shoulder. You blink blankly at him for a moment, not moving, until he gives you a little tug closer to the edge of the tub. “Well? While the water’s hot.”

You get in the tub. A moment after you settle in the middle, stiff and mostly confused, he steps in behind you. The tub is big - surprising for an apartment in this neighborhood - and leaves him enough room to put his legs on either side of you. His arms wrap around your chest next, just below your breasts, and he takes you with him as he leans back on the edge and lets out a low moan of satisfaction.

You remain stiff, unable to relax when you still can’t see this man as anything but your captor.

He sighs another moment later at your rigidness. “Relax,” he grumbles, grumpy.

You make a high noise in your throat. “Easier said than done.”

He sighs again, like your discomfort is putting him out. “Relax, or I’ll make you.”

You scowl. “You’ll make me relax? How exactly do you plan on -” You cut yourself off with a choking noise as his left hand grips one tit and the right slides down your stomach to cup your cunt, the weight of it almost a threat.

“Relax,” he says again. When you remain stiff, maybe even stiffer than you were before, he begins to work your clit and brush over your nipple. Softly, and slowly. “Can’t play rough with you right now,” he mumbles, tucking his face into your shoulder and pressing his lips to your neck. “Stop pushing me.”

“I-I’m not,” you stutter, legs shifting and spine going a bit looser as you finally start to settle back into him. He makes a little noise in his throat, one you have no idea how to translate, and softens his movements even further, just… petting your most sensitive parts.

The silence is thick, weighted with the dynamic between the two of you, but not suffocating somehow. The warm water and calming motions of his fingers forces your body into a relaxed state without your intent.

You hardly notice when the door creaks open minutes later, Johnny’s figure shadowed by the dark bedroom. He steps into the bathroom, and you watch as a smile grows on his face at the sight before him. His clear pleasure makes you stiffen a bit, but Simon hums a soothing note that - annoyingly - leaves you boneless.

“Room for another?” Johnny asks, voice rough from sleep.

“Always,” Simon replies, face still mostly hidden in your neck. You watch with half lidded eyes and Johnny, already naked, steps into the tub opposite the two of you. He scoots in close, and leans his chest against yours, giving both you and Simon his weight. You grunt a little under it, but he wraps an arm around your back and floats somewhat, so he feels more like a weighted blanket than anything. He hooks his chin over your free shoulder and gives a great, big sigh of relief. You’re glad for Simon holding you above the water, sure that you’d sink under Johnny’s weight.

You don’t and work up the nerve to speak, a bit afraid that if you provoke them too much they’ll use sex as a distraction.

Still, their equally loose-limbed bodies and the bath has lulled you into an almost dream-like state, and you can’t resist pushing a little bit more.

“There are people who will look for me,” you mumble, staring at the steam fogging up the tiles on the wall.

“Then you’ll tell them where you are,” Johnny grumbles against you, the vibrations of his chest moving to yours.

“I’ll tell them to call the police.”

“Then you won’t get access to a phone until we can trust you,” Simon, this time, says. His fingers are hardly moving now, just the occasional twitch when you shift one way or another.

“What do you want from me?” You whisper, unable to help the crack in your voice or the tinge of desperation.

Johnny rumbles soothingly, shifting his hand to stroke up and down your back. “You just need to be like this, lovie. Soft. Sweet. Something to spoil and treat nice.”

“A pet,” you whisper, unwanted tears burning at the back of your eyes that you close your eyes tight against, tired of all the crying.

“A pet,” Simon agrees behind you, limbs tightening around you. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“We’ll be so good to you,” Johnny says, voice right in your ear. “We’ll get you whatever you want. Once we know you won’t leave, we’ll take you wherever you want to go. All you have to do is let us take care of you. It’ll be good, lassie. I promise.”

You sniffle, and get a coo from both men in response.

None of you speak again. The water cools slowly, and when you shiver for the first time Simon shifts to unplug the tub and pulls all three of you out.

You’re in a daze as Johnny tugs you to stand on a bathmat in front of him, a smile playing on his lips as he cups your cheeks and gives you a soft kiss. You don’t respond, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

They dry you methodically - Johnny toweling the parts of your hair that got wet, Simon patting down the rest of you.

It’s Johnny that carries you to bed, gripping the backs of your thighs and urging you to curl your legs around his waist.

“Did a number on her back, Johnny.”

“Lost control, L.t. You felt how tight she is - fuckin’ heaven.”

“Hm. Paradise.”

“So I take it you like your gift?

“Don’t play coy, MacTavish. It doesn’t suit you.”

“On the contrary, sir - everythin’ suits me.”

“Shut up.”

You tune out their voices, aware only tangentially of a hand stroking across your hair as you’re laid in bed. Johnny keeps you at his front, mimicking the position the two of you had taken before… everything. Your legs tangled together, his arm under your head, his head on yours, your face in his throat. The only difference is that Simon slides in behind you, wrapping his big arms around both of you and tugging you tight to his body. His leg slips over yours, and their combined weight holds you deep in the mattress.

“Go to sleep, love,” one of them mutters. “Tomorrow will be better. You’ll see.”

You close your dry eyes and fall asleep with warm, sated limbs.

#john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #ghoap x reader #bo writes #dark fic #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish #soap mactavish x you #john soap mactavish x you #johnny soap mactavish #Johnny soap mactavish x reader #Johnny soap mactavish x you #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod #call of duty #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #call of duty modern warfare fanfi

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guttednights · 2 months

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your bar.

You've worked in the same bar for the past 3 years. It's fairly common for military men to come in and get drinks together. It's always soap, gaz, price, and the one in a mask.

One night you finally speak to the guy in the skull mask. "your name is?" as he looks at you, his cold eyes lighten.

"ghost," he said gruffly when soap elbowed him, he shot soap a glare and sighed making eye contact with you. "Simon. simon Riley." he gruffs.

you can't help but smile. "well then Simon Riley. want your usual?"

"Please," he says coldly

you and your friend spent the rest of the night talking about simon. "god i dont know what it is about him but." "jeez.."

"oh ew! shut up" your friend replies walking to the other side of the bar

you giggle "ah cmon, its not as nasty as you and your thing for that old one.

she giggles. "price is hot because hes a gentle man. simon just looks like he could hurt anyone."

"thats what i like" "feels like hed go to jail for me"

She rolls her eyes "okay mrs delusional."

the next few days some tension between you and simon grew. he cant keep his eyes off you. your literal eyecandy to him. and you notice.

"sarah he keeps staring" you say entering the back to "refill something"

she squeals. "girl hes so into you!"

you roll your eyes, "oh whatever."

Later that night soap walks up to the bar,

"hey y/n, you know my big friend Simon? ya he wants ye number"

your heart practically stops beating. "uh.. yeah sure here" You quickly write it on a napkin and hand it to him. you watch as soap runs away like a schoolgirl giggling to Simon as he hands it to him.

the whole rest of the night you were shocked. The big huffy man you think is hot wanted your number?

around 2 am you jolt awake as your phone buzzes. you grab your phone, its him.

"hey gorgeous its simon, or "big masked man"

"Hi simon" god you cant believe this is happening is this real?

"you should be asleep. what you doing up?"

ur heart flutters, (GOING FERAL LIKE YES PLS BOSS ME AROUND) "couldnt sleep"

"any reason why?"

(yes Simon ur the reason why) "nope no praticular reason why, just one of those nights."

"alright. want to get coffee tomorrow?"

"coffee?!" you think to yourself "Omg it's happening.."

"id love to get coffee"

"great. ill see you at happy cafs tomorrow at 9 am."

"see you there"

your freaking out literally, the man of your literal dreams is asking to go out on a coffee date?! Is it a date..?

"is this considered a date?" you text him a few minutes later

"yes, sweetheart. it's considered a date lol"

you throw your phone across the room screaming and kicking your feet. you can't sleep the rest of the night. too busy thinking about what to wear. finally at 6 am you give up and hit the shower, then walk to your closet. "god do I wear a dress? jeans hoodie?" finally you decide on a long-sleeved black dress, perfect for winter. you straighten your hair, do your makeup, and hype yourself up.

8:55 and you're a minute away from the cafe when u see him pull up. your heart drops. you're so excited yet so nervous, u practically black out until you bump into him.

"op, watch out there" he chuckles, "looking at your feet while you walk sweetheart or?"

you chuckle, "Sorry lost in my thoughts." sweetheart?! You can't help but blush as he puts his hand on the lower part of your back and directs you inside. you both sit down at a booth and a waitress comes over. you both order and wait.

you can't help but stare at him, even tho you haven't seen his face his eyes just capture you.

"I'm not gonna lie, sweetheart,. I can't keep my eyes off you at the bar,"

"might as well claim ye before you are no longer available" he smirks as you blush and look away

you spend the next 3 hours just talking getting to know him. And before you know it, (in a few weeks of course) you are dating, officially his. the man of your dreams is officially yours.

side notes: i dont know if i like this tbh. it feels really long and i almost lost what else to say. if u want a part 2 (MAYBE SMUTTY VERS. i can do it lmk!!!)

#call of duty #cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghost cod #ghost fluff #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley fluff #older boyfriend ghost #simon riley

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worstghost · 1 year

Text

How COD men sleep, alone and with you. (Ghost, König, and Soap)

I can do more for the other guys if people like this (:

Ghost

Alone: He sleeps stiff, flat on his back, arms crossed over his chest. The balaclava stays on unless he knows he's alone in his room. Long sleeve cotton shirt, long pants. He doesn't care to be seen.

With you: He relaxes a bit. Some nights he'll take the mask off for you, if he's feeling kind. Not much for cuddling, but will let you lay across his chest and hold your hand tightly. Leans his head down to press his nose and mouth onto your hair. If you ask him nicely, he'll take his shirt off.

You wake up one morning to catch him snoring gently, a few fingers slipped under the waist band of his pants. It's so mushy and domestic, your heart flutters. Rarely do you see him so relaxed. You decide to ruin the peace by sliding down the bed and waking him up with a blowjob, which he greatly appreciates.

König

Alone: He hates sleeping alone, he'll curl up on his too small bed, a pillow at his back, one under his head, one held tightly in his arms. Mask off, covered neck to feet in clothing though. He doesn't sleep well, will toss and turn all night.

With you: His favorite spot is scrunched up with you, arms wrapped tightly around your center with his face buried in your chest. He always sleeps better when you join him, even more so when you lay yourself completely over him like a weighted blanket. He grinds his teeth and mumbles in his sleep.

Early one morning you wake up before him, there's a sliver of sun peeking through the curtains onto his face, inches away from yours. You so rarely see him without the mask so you take time to admire him, brushing fingers across his freckled cheek. He stirs and you lean in to kiss his bitten lips, he hums and returns it, never opening his eyes.

Soap

Alone: He sleeps like a tornado, splayed out, kicking the blankets every which way. He's always too hot when he sleeps so he never wears clothes and if someone just happens to walk in, that's their problem.

With you: He likes being the big spoon, a classic. He wants to be pressed up behind you, kissing your shoulder in place of saying goodnight. He sleeps practically naked if he can help it and insists that you do the same. He'll wake you up the same every morning, huffing into your ear and grinding his hard on against you until you stir. When he knows you're awake, he waits for you to make the next move, depending on whether or not you're up for sleepy morning sex.

He's trying to be so gentle, letting out quiet grunts and huffs, holding your hip so tightly he's worried he'll bruise you. You don't seem to be awake yet, hell he's not sure if he's even awake yet. He buries his lips against your neck, surprised when your hips move back to greet his thrust. He stutters out a "Fuck-" and shudders when you move his hand to your bare chest.

Price and Alejandro versions ♡

#cod #cod mw2 #könig cod #ghost x reader #x reader #call of duty #imagine #konig #simon riley x reader #mw2 #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #könig x reader #könig headcanons #ghost cod #soap cod #konig cod

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alisonwritesimagines · 1 year

Text

New Tattoos ~Simon "Ghost" Riley Imagine~

Summary: Soap sees something new on his Liutenant. Luckily for you, you get to enjoy his new hidden tattoo.

Author’s Note: Still in love with Ghost. Also I finished the rest on my phone so if there’s any mistakes or anything like that, just ignore it.

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings:

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

Everyone knew that Ghost had a set of tattoos on his forearm. It was something that couldn't be missed whenever he wore a short sleeve shirt or when his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His tattoos had a meaning to him.

Then came when you both married and had kids. Ghost didn't like to wear his wedding band during duty. But he did wanted to keep you and your kids close to him in some way or another.

So imagine Soap's surprise when he saw something on Ghost's chest where his heart would be.

"What's that Lt?" Soap asked Ghost as he watched his lieutenant put on a new shirt.

They had just finished a mission and had to get fixed and cleaned up before they could head back home. Even then, your children complained whenever Ghost came home, smelling "yucky." So Ghost made sure to get cleaned up before coming back home on every mission.

"What's what?" Ghost asked him.

"Get a new tattoo?" Soap asked him.

"Maybe."

"Of what?"

"Why would you want to know?" Ghost asked.

"Just curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat."

"Yes but satisfaction brought it back. Come on Lt. I wanna know," Soap said.

"It's nothing," Ghost said before grabbing his stuff and walking out.

Though every time his greeting from you and the kids were the same, he always treasured it. Before he stepped foot into his house, Simon always made sure to take off his mask.

"Daddy!" His kids yelled out as they ran over and jump onto him. Simon picked up his two children before giving them a kiss on the cheek.

"Where's mommy?" Simon asked the two.

"I'm coming!" You said as you walked over to him. You kissed his cheek first before his lips. "Sorry, was washing the dishes."

"It's alright. As long as you're here," Simon smiled at you.

"Come on kids. Let daddy put his things away and help me set up the table for dinner," you tell your kids.

"Okay mommy!"

"I want to stay with daddy," your daughter pouted as she held onto Simon.

"She can stay with me love. Won't be too long," Simon said before giving you a quick kiss.

After dinner and getting the kids to bed, both you and Simon were able to have your alone time. It was no doubt that Simon wanted to enjoy every inch of you when he came back from a mission. And you enjoyed every inch of him as well.

“Soap might’ve gotten a glimpse of my new tattoo,” Simon told you as you lied on his chest. Your thumb lightly rubbed against Simon’s tattoo that was etched above his heart.

“Mmm. And what did he say?”

“Barely got to see it so he asked about it.”

“I don’t understand why you don’t tell him. You’re obviously close to him.”

“I like it better when you’re the only one who can see it. And maybe the kids,” Simon told you.

A little after your daughter was born, Simon had gotten a tattoo, dedicated to the three of you. Three triangles connected to one another. A very simple design but something only you and Simon would know and something that wouldn’t be used against him in case he was ever caught during a mission.

“Good. Because I like it whenever I’m able to see it,” you tell him, kissing the tattoo.

“I know you do.”

“How much you want to bet on Soap trying to guess what it means?” You joked.

“No need to bet, pet. He’s never going to get it,” Simon told you.

“You have to let me know what he thinks it means when he does see it.”

“Alright.”

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #ghost #ghost imagine #ghost x reader #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #call of duty imagine #cod #cod mwii #alisonwritesimagines

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vesper-tinus · 1 year

Note

Hi! requesting a female reader who is an insomniac and nobody knows until they ask “How many hours of sleep did you get” and she’s like “none” she also just falls asleep in the weirdest places like during a meeting or standing up. Maybe people try to start sneakily feeding her stuff that’ll help her sleep like melatonin. Happy new year!! :))

Hello! Happy New Year to you too, anon! I hope you will enjoy the snippet, and that I managed to write something similar to what you were looking for!

𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐲. Platonic 141 x Female ! Reader

Summary: Plagued by insomnia, you rarely find the time to catch proper sleep. The team has noticed this, and attempt to make you comfortable the best they can. Keywords: Platonic, female reader, Price being a team dad, reader's callsign is "Cricket". Wordcount: 1188

When you wake up, you feel noticeably warmer than before. Cozier and tucked away on a couch. You glance down, bleary-eyed, inspecting the jacket carefully draped over you. It’s a few sizes too big, and you recognise the telltale scent of cigar smoke and cologne. It’s Captain Price’s jacket. His civilian jacket, no less.

How long have you been sleeping?

You fish out the military issued watch from your pocket, eyes squinting as you try to read anything from it. When did you even fall asleep…? Oh, right. You were waiting for Price himself. You had something to discuss with him regarding your latest mission—at least you think so. All you recall was him telling you: “I’ve got something important to discuss with you.” But he was summoned by Laswell, and you thought it best to wait outside the debriefing room for them to finish.

With little else to do, you flip the jacket to wear it properly. Properly being a relative term. It hangs loose on your smaller frame, the sleeves much too long and covering your hands. If you zipped it closed, it could function as some sort of short, unfashionable dress.

You snort to yourself.

The base is quieter than usual, you note, walking the empty corridors and vast rooms. The personnel you do meet, offer swift and curt greetings, but otherwise occupy themselves with their given tasks, and you’re thankful you haven’t met any higher rankings that require you to salute. As your body and mind shake off their drowsiness, your steps become more focused, and sooner than you’d expected, you find the rest of 141 situated in the cafeteria.

You walk towards their table, masking a yawn politely with your hand. The other lazily waving a greeting.

“Morning, guys.”

“It’s 23.30.” Comes the amused reply from Soap who’s busy toying with a tea bag. Dunking it up and down absentmindedly in a cup that most certainly does not belong to him.

You shrug, feigning ignorance as you settle down amongst the team, reaching for the nearest mug to warm your hands on. Kyle’s. He doesn’t seem to mind, even gesturing for you to take your fill. He always makes the best cups.

In your state, you don’t notice the exchanges of glances going around the table, and before you know it, a heavier silence fills the air between you all. You’re about to lighten the mood when the pin drops. Price is the first to speak.

“You haven’t been sleepin’.”

You arch a subtle brow, peeking from beyond your cup. “None of us sleep, Captain.”

“You know what I mean. You’ve been passin’ out sporadically. Hell, I even found you outside the conference room sleepin’ against the wall.” He fixes you with a stare. “Standin’ up.” He pauses, wetting his throat with a sip of his tea. Lemon and ginger, you note. “Didn’t have the heart to wake you, so I moved you to the couch.”

“Thanks for the jacket, by the way,” you chirp, looking cosier than ever and with no intentions of handing it over any time soon. “Very comfy.” Your tactic of changing conversation falls short, and Ghost looks unimpressed by the attempt.

“Right,” Price says abruptly, standing from the table to tower over the lot of you. “I want suggestions on how to help with this—good ones,” he explains as he plucks his boonie hat from the table. He looks to you, worry evident in his expression, but swiftly masked with the professionalism you have come to expect from your captain. “You know this is serious, Cricket.”

You walked into an intervention, is what you did. You tiredly rub your face. “I know, I know,” you mutter. “But what am I supposed to do? Insomnia doesn’t exactly—” You stop talking when you feel a large palm on your shoulder, and the sudden, but welcome, contact makes you emotional.

You run on fumes, because that’s what you do best. You run, and run, until exhaustion takes a hold of you. There is no gentle caress of falling asleep. You fall hard and heavy, and it’s a frustrating feeling. But worst of all, it makes you feel alone.

“You’ll be alright, Cricket,” Soap encourages, “you got us, right?”

And so it begins. Over the next couple of days, you and the team try all sorts of remedies, personal and professional.

Johnny offers to share his bed. “Mi casa es su casa.” Human contact can be a powerful thing. Perhaps the sensation of a heartbeat would sync yours to relax? His chest is wide, and makes for an excellent pillow you find. He talks, because that’s what he does best. He tells you of his childhood, and his excellence at being a goalkeeper. His cousin who inspired him to join the British Army, and all the times he got caught being underrage trying out for SAS. He adds flair and theatrics to whatever tale he spins, and it makes you laugh yourself to exhaustion.

Kyle suggests a podcast with rain noise. He shows you the playlists he has saved, and you giggle amongst yourselves as you peruse them late at night. He has playlists for everything, you notice. When he’s tired, or feeling lonely. When he needs to relax, or when he needs to sleep. So you give it a try, and you count the stars behind your eyes as you listen to ‘A Romantic & Rainy Night Through London’s Empty Streets.’ You asked him why he enjoys the sound of rain so much, and he told you that he finds the consistency soothing. The lives you live are controlled by instability, by sudden orders and quick decisions... but this? This he can control.

Price offers you his office. He lets you rest on the couch while he occupies himself with paperwork. Sometimes in hand, sometimes on the computer. Pen on paper, or mechanical keyboard, it makes you drowsy all the same. He likes to read his reports aloud, mumbling the sentences to himself as he reviews them. You’re not sure he knows how magnetic his voice is. He often looks over at you, checking in, and offers you a tired smile. He goes over the possibilities of medication to help you sleep, but it will be a rare comfort since you can’t use it most nights when you’re charged with missions. The pleasant hoarseness of his voice makes it difficult to pay attention.

And Simon? Simon listens, and shares little. He, too, was plagued by insomnia in his youth. Fears and nightmares, but he overcame it and now has dreamless nights. You can’t decide if you find it sad. He doesn’t. He told you as much, but you think he deserves to dream of better things. He lends you his hoodies. Black and dull and worn, but his. The hoods are wide and shadow much of your face, shielding your eyes from others and the lights. He often dismisses you, telling you to take a nap. You have responsibilities, you argue, but he dismisses that too, and tells you to let him deal with it. And he does.

And for the first time in a long, long while, you ease into a dreamless sleep.

No falling, hard edges, or buzzing thoughts.

Just pure, blissful sleep.

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erisbaek · 11 months

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I said it once and I’ll say it again but Soap losing Ghost is far more tragic than Ghost losing Soap. Ghost losing Soap is just another in a long line of losses. Would it chip him away even more, both mentally and physically? Absolutely. Would it be a death he wouldn’t come back from? Most likely. However — Soap losing Ghost would completely alter who Soap is. Ghost is already chiselled down to nearly bare bone, but Soap has so much life in him, so many smiles, and shining glints in his eyes. He has his wit, his reasons all laid out. He wears his heart on his sleeve; so what would he be when that heart of his dies alongside his Lieutenant?

#ghostsoap #soapghost #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish

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multifandomimagin3s · 1 year

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They have a crush on you (HC's) - Team 141 + König

Requested by Anon

Simon "Ghost" Riley

*Honestly I could write an essay on this complicated man, he's such an interesting character - but I've summed up some HC's below*

This guy is so hard to read, but at the same time he's not.

At first glance, he's a hardened man who keeps his cards close to his chest and never lets his guard down around anyone. And that's true.

Given everything he's been through in life, that amount of trauma is bound to have a long-term effect on every aspect of his life - not to mention the fact that he's probably learned to repress all of that shit for most of his life.

So I reckon that even if he did have romantic feelings towards you, it would take him a long, long time for him to even process what he's feeling - he's not stupid by any manner of means, more so he doesn't know what to do with this newfound information.

He would probably try and be mean to you - not that he was ever truly sweet on you in the first place, he couldn't let people know he had a soft spot; a weakness.

If you were part of 141, he would probably try to completely ignore you - unless he physically had to speak to you, like if you were on a mission together ((ngl I think Price probably would put the pieces together and would try to push you both together by sending you off on the same mission - fulfilling his Dad Captainly duties)).

You'd probably have known Ghost for a while before he starts to open up to you - it's superficial stuff, like maybe when his birthday is or his favourite food, little details that didn't really give any crucial information away, but you knew better than to pry as it would probably just make him shut himself away more.

He'd probably be protective of you - like if the team were out at a pub after a mission gone well, and there was a creepy guy bothering you, he would loom over you to scare the guy shitless with piercing, cold eyes.

We all know that as soon as Soap figures out that Ghost has a crush, he's going to absolutely want to take the piss out of him for it...he just needs to pick his words carefully, since he chooses life :))

It's hard to tell when or if he would actually confess his feelings to you - I can see it happening in one of two ways:

1 - You almost died on a mission, and he deeply regretted not telling you before when he thought you weren't going to make it back to base in time; he visited you every day while you were in hospital, and ended up bluntly just coming right out with how he felt because he needed you to know.

2 - Soap tells you before he can. With this scenario, I don't see Ghost blowing up in a fit of rage - it would be the silent death stare with the promise of an arse-kicking in the training room, maybe even making the Sergeant clean the bathrooms with a toothbrush for a few months for good measure. Ghost probably wouldn't even deny it, and would wait for you to come to him... and whatever happens next is a mystery ;))

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

*Ahh my fellow Scot - just to preface, Scottish slang and dialects vary across the country and I'm not 100% sure where Soap is originally from, so I'm just going to improvise and use local slang from where I'm from ~*

My guy wears his heart on his sleeve - he's naturally very flirty with you from the get-go, so it wasn't hard to figure out that he fancied you.

"Hello, Darlin', if yer wantin' a tour of the base, don't be feert* to gie me a shout ;D" [feert = afraid] [gie me a shout = ask me; gie = give].

With his flirty nature, it was difficult to discern if he was actually being serious about liking you, or if he was just flirty with everyone.

He'd probably realise that he was going about things completely wrong, and would make normal, friendly conversation to get to know you - he just wants to prove that he's a good guy and not a raging hornball :(

The longer time goes on, he starts to tell you more about his life outside of the SAS - he comes from a big family, he's the youngest sibling, his favourite colour, etc.

I can absolutely see his chest puff up a bit with pride when you compliment his skills - he disposes bombs and risks his life all the time, its his job and he doesn't expect praise other than a curt "good work" from his superiors; but from you, the tips of his ears are turning red, and a smile is practically splitting his face ~

Definitely doesn't use the excuse of training to get some time alone with you - not in a creepy way, he just likes spending one-on-one time with you.

If he really trusts you, he asks you to help trim his hair - he did do his mohawk mostly by himself but trying to do the back of his head on his own was an actual nightmare.

Likes watching the look of concentration on your face as you make sure that his hair is even - winks at you when you catch him staring~

(Y/N): There we go - a job well-done, if I do say so myself.

Johnny: *just admiring your smiling face, smitten*

Would probably ask you out then and there, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

Certified Best Boy™.

Captain John Price

This guy doesn't fuck around - he's older, mature, and knows what he feels, and straight up tells you.

He'd call you into his office for a "chat" - queue you absolutely shitting yourself, being called for a chat with your superior in any circumstance automatically has you going through everything you've ever done prior to this moment to see what he could be mad about...

If you were a Private or any rank beneath him, he probably might hesitate to tell you a bit; HR really wouldn't like it but then again they wouldn't need to know... ;))

If you were a medic, nurse, doctor or civilian, he wouldn't hesitate to tell you.

The Team wouldn't know he even had a crush on you - even if you were on base, as a soldier or medic, they wouldn't have a clue.

The only time they grew suspicious was after they had all been to the pub and after a few too many drinks, one of the new recruits started talking about you and how he thought you were fit; Price's eye twitched slightly, eyeing the recruit with a poker face but with a slightly flash of anger in his eyes, cigar between his teeth.

"Bit inappropriate to speak of a comrade like that, Private, don't you think?" The Private sheepishly let out an apology.

Gaz and Soap gave each other a knowing side-eye; Soap looked to Ghost, who stared back blankly - he'd figured out that the Captain liked you ages ago, he was just waiting on everyone else catching up.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

I see him as another guy who wears his heart on his sleeve, so to speak.

I think he's the silent type though - while Johnny will flirt with you openly, regardless of where he is or who he's around, I think Kyle would be more discrete about it.

At first, it would be the little things like making you your favourite tea when he's making his own cup - sometimes he'll just make you your own, delivering it to you with a little smile.

He even offers to spar with you during training - he wouldn't go easy on you but he would be missing the usual fire that he has when training with other members of the team, he doesn't want to hurt you :((

As he gets more comfortable with you, and you with him, he absolutely loves to wind you up.

I think he'd be a genuinely funny guy, so be prepared to laugh until your sides hurt.

He'd probably express his feelings for you in a cheesy but still down-right cute way; probably shows up at your door with flowers and asks you out on a date.

((Proud Dad™ Price is just around the corner))

König

Another certified Best Boy™.

Honestly, he probably didn't speak to you at all for the longest time - not because he was intentionally trying to be rude but because if he feels like he has nothing good to say, then he just won't speak at all.

His social anxiety probably fluctuates day-to-day; one day he feels alright, can make small talk with others on base and do whatever he needs to do. But then the next day, he won't leave his room unless he has to, and when he does he's just this hulking mass of poorly concealed anxiety.

I think his anxiety would probably accidentally be projected outwards and would make him appear more intimidating, especially when all people can see are his eyes underneath his hood. Poor baby :(

He definitely knew that he had a crush on you - he's anxious in social settings, crowds, and he knows what that feels like - but with you? He gets full-on butterflies and he's scared to speak in case he says something embarrassing.

You'd most likely have to make conversation first, keeping it casual as to not scare him off - ironic, since the man is over 6ft and is built like a brick shithouse.

It would take time but he'd slowly open up bit by bit.

The first time you saw him out in the field - completely different ballgame entirely.

Who is this guy and what has he done with Konig??

He probably confesses his feelings on the way back from a mission, still high on adrenaline and confidence.

Oh he absolutely full-on panics when the adrenaline wears off and the penny finally drops...but he meant what he said. He really likes you, Maus.

#simon riley #soap mactavish #konig #kyle gaz garrick #captain price #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #soap mactavish x reader #konig x reader #gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #johnny mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #call of duty #cod mw2 #multifandomimagin3s

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kitten4sannie · 1 year

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27 - ꜰᴜʀʀʏ/ʜʏʙʀɪᴅ - ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ

ꜱᴘɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴍɪʟᴋ

pairing: fox hybrid! wooyoung x cat hybrid! reader (fem) feat. owners seongjoong

summary: you mess around with a new hybrid playmate while your owners go out to eat.

w.c: 3.4k

warnings: dom leaning! wooyoung, sub leaning! reader, these mfs are in HEAT, pet names, praise, kissing, food play, nipple play (m receiving), grinding, breeding kink (it’d be an actual crime if i didn’t include this) unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: on all levels except physical i am a kitty - meow

okay but fr i’ve always wanted to write a hybrid au so i’m so glad i finally did!! it was so fun ahhhh <3 also there's only one more fic to go ;; thank you for coming on this filthy journey with meee <3

FFF Masterlist

✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖

“Y/N, I’m home!” your owner Hongjoong called out, standing near the doorway of his apartment next to his friend Seonghwa, who he had a fat crush on, and of course, his companion Wooyoung, a beautiful red fox hybrid who was a sneaky little troublemaker with a heart of gold. “And I brought company, so make sure you have some clothes on!”

Ears twitching at the sound of your owner’s voice, you pulled yourself out of the cat nap you were taking on Hongjoong’s bed and pounced into his open closet to find one of his oversized hoodies and some booty shorts to put on. Yawning dramatically, you headed out into the living room, seeing Seonghwa give you a smile and a wave. You reciprocated, but suddenly went still upon seeing the hybrid you had never encountered before besides the times Hongjoong made you interact with him over FaceTime, your tufted ears now on high alert.

Wooyoung reacted differently, his mind yelling ‘Kitty! Must scent!’, immediately heading in your direction to do just that, but getting pulled back when Seonghwa placed his hands onto his shoulders, hearing him go ‘uh-uh-uh.’

Hongjoong walked over to you and gave you a hug, running his hand down your fluffy tail to get it to go from a standing position to a relaxed one. “Don’t be so scared, sweetheart. You’ve talked to him before. He’s been really excited to meet you in person, you know.” Seeing your apprehension, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, stroking your hair in a comforting manner. “I just thought you could hang out with someone new. Do you remember me telling you about this a couple days ago? How Daddy wants you to meet new hybrids so you can socialize?”

You thought about it for a minute, going back through the past week, your freshest memory being of your trip to the mall with Hongjoong. He bought you a new plushie and some new cat grass after you tossed the other one off of the balcony when you were having a fit. He used half of the spray bottle on you that day.

“Uh…not really,” you replied honestly, idly grabbing onto Hongjoong’s sleeve and holding it, looking past him, studying the fox that was staying still in his owner’s grasp. He didn’t look too scary now that you weren’t so caught off guard by a person who wasn’t your owner or his boyfriend. Friend. You weren’t sure because Hongjoong always got pouty whenever you asked. You tilted your head, finding Wooyoung’s outfit to be really adorable. He had a few pink heart-shaped clips in his hair, keeping some of his cherry-red bangs out of his eyes. He was wearing a cute oversized sweater too, one that was hanging off one of his shoulders and had a tiny heart over the breast. To make you ever more jealous of his look, he was wearing your favorite brand of athletic shorts, ones with white stripes going down the sides. You wanted to take a trip to his closet one day. You were tired of exploring Hongjoong’s, only ever finding empty bottles of cat nip that you had raided without his knowledge and random books about romance.

Wooyoung’s white-tipped fox ears perked up upon eye contact, his nose twitching a few times, taking in your scent from far away. It was comforting. Like fresh laundry and some kind of soap. Sniff. Kiwi scented soap, to be exact. Would your skin taste like kiwis too? He would have to conduct an experiment. Hopefully, you would like him, so he could get close. He loved kitties. He really liked to tease them and get them all riled up, always wanting to watch their tails puff up, but Seonghwa told him not to do that anymore. It worked out though, because his favorite thing was when he made them purr. It always made him feel really warm inside, sometimes so warm he felt like his tummy was on fire.

Hongjoong sighed, but gave your head a reassuring pat, causing you to push your head into his hand when he started to pull it away, patting it some more as a result. “Well, it’s time you met Wooyoung in person, don’t you think?” You gave him a small nod, opting to climb onto the large plush couch and sitting with your tail curled around you. Hongjoong walked over to you and murmured, “You might become good friends, sweetheart. Plus, he brought you some snacks so be a good girl and tell him thank you, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy,” you nodded, nuzzling your owner’s hovering hand, before looking to Seonghwa, who gave you another soft smile and released his grip on Wooyoung. You blinked for a second and the eager fox hybrid was already sitting on the couch next to you, setting down the plastic bag he had and leaning in to give your neck a few sniffs. You smelled even better up-close, unknowingly encouraging him to move his face into your soft hair, his nose brushing over your human ear, making you shiver. You stayed still, getting used to his scent as well. It was warm like cinnamon sticks and sweet like maple syrup. Yummy. Neither of you spoke, simply taking in each other’s scents and body language, exchanging intense eye contact, as though you were figuring each other out.

Hongjoong walked back over to Seonghwa and leaned against him, elbowing him gently in the ribs through his long, black coat. “Do you think they’ll be fine on their own?”

“I think so. They’re both well trained.” Seonghwa nodded his head, smiling down at Hongjoong, suddenly rubbing his stomach and groaning when he felt hunger pains. “We should probably head to the restaurant soon. I’m starving.”

Both Hongjoong and Seonghwa said bye to the both of you, but neither of you were really paying attention, only waving your hands in their direction, your eyes still locked onto one another’s, getting closer and closer as time went by.

Hongjoong grabbed his bag and coat, then headed to the door with Seonghwa, only stopping once he closed the door behind the both of them. Seonghwa walked a few feet down the hall, but staying still when he realized that Hongjoong was standing still. “What’s wrong?” he asked, pushing a hand into his coat pocket.

Locking the door, Hongjoong caught up to Seonghwa, saying concernedly, “Y/N hasn’t been fixed. Is Wooyoung fixed?”

Walking down the hallway at a leisurely pace, Seonghwa hit the elevator button, realizing, “No, actually. Do you think that’ll be a problem?”

Remembering how cautious you were around Wooyoung, Hongjoong shook his head and laughed at the thought of you actually engaging with Wooyoung in such a way. Plus, you never showed that kind of interest in anyone, except for him. He didn’t have anything to worry about. “No, I think we’re probably fine. She’s a good girl.” Stepping into the elevator with Seonghwa, he looked down at his friend’s hand, which was mere inches away from his, gulping, his ringed fingers twitching slightly.

“Wooyoung’s feisty, but won’t push anything on another hybrid if they disapprove.” Watching the numbers on the elevator slowly go down, Seonghwa pressed his shoulder into Hongjoong’s smaller one, able to notice how he tensed up. The backs of his fingers just barely began to brush over his friend’s, making him feel warm, but not able to pull through and actually attempt to hold his hand.

“That’s good.” Hongjoong focused intently on the numbers on the screen above him, taking in a deep breath and moving his fingers against Seonghwa’s, just barely interlocking their pinky fingers together.

“Good, yeah,” Seonghwa replied softly, his heart about to beat out of his chest, swallowing his nerves down like he would with the wine he was about to drink at the restaurant. He squeezed Hongjoong’s pinky against his own. “Very good.”

“Absolutely.” Hongjoong felt like he was going to melt into the floor, not realizing he was holding his breath until he started to feel a little lightheaded.

“Youngie,” you accidentally blurted out, shivering as Wooyoung’s rough tongue came in contact with your neck, whining when he pulled the collar of your hoodie down to get better access to your collarbone area. He said he wanted to see if you tasted like kiwis because of Hongjoong’s shampoo. You weren’t sure if it worked like that, but it couldn’t hurt to try. Though, it tickled a lot and Wooyoung’s scent was making you feel really warm.

Wooyoung let out a small chirp-like sound of approval at your nickname for him, stopping mid-lick to push his head into yours, nuzzling you. “I like that, Kitty. Keep calling me that.”

Your ears flattened into your hair, and your heart thumped away inside your chest. “Okay, Youngie. Please call me Kitty from now on too. I like it.” Running your fingers over the wet sections of your neck, you asked, “So did it taste like kiwi?”

“Uh-uh.” Wooyoung pouted for a second, only to smile brightly when he remembered about the snacks he brought. He turned his body to reach into the plastic bag next to him, pulling out two cartons of strawberry milk and handing you one, taking out a bag of de-pitted cherries as well. Seonghwa always took the pits out so he didn't have to worry about Wooyoung choking. “Snack time!”

Poking the straw through the box and taking a few gulps of the drink, you jumped slightly and turned your body towards the other hybrid’s, remembering Hongjoong’s words. “Thank you, Youngie.”

Slurping a couple cherries into his mouth and gobbling them down without much thought, he turned his body towards yours as well, speaking with his mouth full, “Welcome, Kitty. Want a cherry?” When you nodded, he took a bite of another one and pressed it to your lips, tilting his head to the side when you gingerly nibbled on it, your cheeks flushed. “Something wrong?”

“It’s an indirect kiss,” you murmured shyly, taking the rest of the cherry into your mouth when he pushed it inside and chewing it.

Wooyoung took a sip of his milk, batting his long eyelashes at you, his big, bushy tail idly flicking at one of your bare thighs. “You want a direct one?”

“I-i mean, well, um…yes…” you stuttered out, barely able to handle Wooyoung pouncing on you, almost making you knock your milk carton over. He smelled so good. So yummy. You really wanted to taste him.

“Here I come, kitty cat.” Resting one hand near your head on the cushion below and leaning down towards you, he took a bite of a cherry and chewed, pressing it down onto your lips and rubbing the juices around. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips onto yours, idly licking the sweetness off of them, slowly deepening the kiss once you lowered your carton to the floor and wrapped your arms around his neck.

He blindly reached for another cherry or two. Kiss. kiss. kiss. Lick. Lick. Lick. Wooyoung’s tongue began to eagerly explore your mouth, licking at the roof of your mouth and at one of your inner cheeks, eventually focusing on your rough tongue, slurping it into his mouth like he did with the cherry and sucking on it. With your bodies and fluffy tails entwined, the fox hybrid began to rut himself against you out of habit, his hardened cock rubbing deliciously on your clit, the material of your tiny, thin shorts offering you pleasure as well.

Mewling into the hybrid’s mouth, you broke the kiss, your glistening lips connected with a few strings of saliva, your combined pheromones making the both of you feel like you were on fire and in need of more stimulation. Now feeling comfortable, you took the half-empty milk carton from his hand and pushed him onto the floor, hearing him let out a surprised yelp, not wasting any time landing down onto him with one leg in between his and the other pressing on the outside of it. “Kitty wants to play. Kitty wants to taste Youngie.”

Wooyoung took the carton from you and lifted his sweater up and over his tiny pink nipples, tilting the carton, pouring the milk onto the both of them, purring, “Taste me, Kitty. I know you want milk.”

As your irises grew to the size of saucers, you leaned yourself down onto him, lapping the sweet, sticky liquid from his nipples one at a time, sucking on them to make sure you cleaned them properly. “Mm, yummy. More, Youngie. More milk.”

Flustered and turned on, Wooyoung felt like he was about to blow his load from feeling your tiny sandpaper-like tongue on his sensitive chest. He poured a bit more milk onto himself, the liquid trickling down his abdomen this time. When you dove back in to lap up the milk from his nipples, your tongue slid back and forth over them at an increasingly desperate speed, making him moan more and more, unable to hold back. “Feels really good. Kitty’s making Youngie feel so hot.”

Your pussy pulsed and your ears twitched slightly from the praise you were receiving. It made you want more. You dragged your tongue down his soft body, still lapping at the milk, moving lower and lower until you got to the waistband of his shorts. Sniffing at the smell of pre-cum soaking through the thin material, you instinctively rubbed your cheek against his clothed cock, giving it a few experimental licks, feeling it twitch against your tongue.

Wooyoung whined softly, pulling his shorts down, his cock springing up into your face, your eyes focusing on the shiny reddened tip. “I have more milk for you, Kitty. Lick and suck, and it’ll come out.”

“Okay, Youngie.” You were familiar with oral because Hongjoong always let you do it to him when he woke up with morning wood, giving you a tummy full of cum to tide you over until breakfast. Feeling your shorts stick to your pussy with a heavy amount of arousal, you licked up the shaft like you were working with a dripping ice cream cone, slowly allowing it into your warm mouth and bobbing your head at a steady pace, drooling onto it.

Wooyoung arched his back, grasping at the carpet below with his free hand, whining and moaning, his voice coming out higher-pitched than before. "So good," he sighed out, gazing down at you with glossy, dilated eyes. "Don't stop, Kitty..."

You alternated between licking all around it and sucking on it, your rough tongue sending shivers up his spine, his fluffy tail jolting every now and then. When you pushed the majority of Wooyoung's pulsing cock into your mouth, the fox moaned wantonly, letting go of the milk carton, not noticing when it began to leak out into the plush carpet. He was too focused on how good it felt to have a pretty kitty play with his cock. So good, he might-

“Mmm…!” you reacted, feeling Wooyoung’s cum spilling down your throat, pulling away to have it shoot out onto your tongue in spurts. You swallowed it down in gulps, his cum so hot and thick it made you crave more, but wanting it inside your pussy instead. “Want more milk. Want it inside me. In my special place.”

Wooyoung’s ear rotated in different directions, his cock instantly coming to life upon hearing your soft-spoken request. “Kitty can have all of my milk,” he answered, reaching down to help you slip out of your shorts, a long, thick bead of arousal dripping off of your cunt and onto his twitching length. “Come on, kitty cat. Let’s breed~”

Wooyoung’s words made your brain short-circuit, not even realizing what was happening until got onto the hybrid's lap, feeling something warm and heavy filling you up to the brim, your tight cunt already clenching around whatever was pumping in and out of you. Oh, Youngie’s thick cock. It was already deep inside you, sending pleasant chills up your spine, your fluffy tail coiling around one of the fox’s thighs. "Youngie," you purred, not even moving yourself, simply letting the fox eagerly slam his hips up into yours, the loud slapping sounds like music to your fluffy ears. You loved the sound of breeding. It made you feel so warm. So hot.

Panting, Wooyoung made a low, guttural sound, his irises blown wide, suddenly grabbing your body and switching your positions, this time laying himself down against your back, the front of you pressing into the soft carpet. When you looked back up at him with surprise, your eyebrows still drawn from the pleasure, Wooyoung responded by fucking you a lot faster than before now that he was in full control. “This is a better position for breeding, Kitty. Want you to have a full litter.”

All this talk about breeding and having kitties of your own, fox hybrid kitties at that, made you almost feel a little dizzy. You just met Youngie in person today, but you already wanted him to take care of you when you were full for him, have him protect you from harm, and love you. “Give Kitty Youngie’s milk. Want your kits in me. In Kitty’s breeding hole.”

Hearing you talk about the kits that he could help you produce sent him into an instinctive frenzy, fucking you hard into the soft floor, his hands squeezing into your bouncing ass on each side, kneading it and watching his cock disappear inside your slick cunt over and over. Making you let out deep purrs mixed with whiny, desperate mewls, Wooyoung hunched over you, burying his face into your neck, licking and sucking it, murmuring, “Kitty sounds so pretty. I like hearing Kitty’s pretty purring and moans…”

His praise and his ability to send you in an almost mind-melting state of pleasure made you revel in the fact that Wooyoung was your new special friend, hoping you could see him again soon in case he didn’t successfully breed you this time. “Youngie, it’s coming out,” you moaned, only having to get filled up with his cock one last time, before your release began pouring out of you.

“Kitty’s so wet and warm,” Wooyoung sighed deeply, slamming his hips into yours a few more times, your extra tight hole drawing whiny-sounding moans from his lips, his body starting to jolt. He squeezed your ass tightly, spurting his thick seed deep into your womb, barely able to moan, “Take my milk, little kitty. Wanna see you so full for me next time I see you. Wanna see you make your own milk for me.”

“Kitty wants Youngie’s kits…” you purred back, your lower half shuddering a bit after getting creampied. “Wanna make my own milk so that you can taste it.” You looked back at him to give him a sheepish smile, your tail swishing around and tickling the hybrid’s chest.

“I’ll give you my kits, kitty cat,” he reassured, pressing his lips to your head, rubbing your hips in a soothing way. He licked your earlobe, drawing more purrs from you. “And I’ll be sure to drink your milk. I promise~”

You began to purr even louder, relishing the thought of being Wooyoung’s mate, able to get bred and tasted by him whenever you both felt like it. Feeling Wooyoung slowly pull out, you whined at the emptiness and the feeling of his seed slowly dribbling out of you. You rested your sweaty face against the carpet, so fucked-out your small tongue slid out of your mouth, still feeling your heart pound inside your chest. You really liked Youngie. You wanted to see him again, and you were about to tell him, but the door unlocked and swung open.

“I told you not to have that last glass, dumbass,” Hongjoong scolded Seonghwa, despite the fierce blush on his face. His friend was leaning against him and nuzzling the side of his head, sufficiently drunk. Seonghwa mumbled something incoherently, his eyes shut, but suddenly opened them up when he heard his friend gasp out loud.

“No! Bad Y/N!” he started, already running over to the kitchen to grab the spray bottle, encouraging you to tiredly crawl into Wooyoung’s lap and rest your face in the crook of his neck, purring softly from taking in your mixed scents. Hongjoong stood in front of the both of you, looking between your naked sweaty bodies, slowly lowering the bottle to his side as to not ruin an (admittedly) cute moment. He instead faced Seonghwa who plopped down onto the couch and sunk into it, ready to fall asleep. “Aren’t you upset, Seonghwa? Wooyoung isn’t fixed. He probably–”

Seonghwa shook his head, pointing down to the carpet where a spot had formed on the dark carpet. “No, I think we’re good. He definitely pulled out. Just like I taught him.” He reached down to pat Wooyoung’s head, smiling softly down at his companion. “Good job, sweetie.”

Wooyoung chirped at his owner’s praise, still nuzzling you, holding you close, finding the vibrations of your constant purring to be extremely therapeutic.

Hongjoong walked up to the carpet and leaned down, inspecting it closely. “Are you sure this is cum? It’s not white or anything.” He placed his hands on his hips, looking down at Wooyoung with a stern expression, making the fox hybrid gulp. “What is that stain, Wooyoung?”

Knowing he wasn’t lying, Wooyoung rubbed your back in small circles, chiming with a proud smile, flashing his canine teeth up at the man. “It’s milk.”

✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖

FFF: @hwalysm @scuzmunkie @creativechaoticloner@dilucpegg3r @yeosxxx @gemjimin @wonwowzers @sanjoongie @manipulatedstars @k-drizzle

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

#ateez #ateez smut #wooyoung #wooyoung ateez #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x you #wooyoung x reader #kpop smut #ateez fanfiction #ateez drabbles #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez hybrid #ateez oneshot #february filth fest

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lunarw0rks · 7 months

Note

can we get a little more of firefighter soap-

firefighter!soap not having a date to one of the fundraisers at the firehouse, so he invites you!!

definitely didn't sneak into his captain's files to find your contact information — that would be silly. but luckily, you find it amusing, and sitting in that hospital bed for days was agonizing.

you'd be daft to pass this up.

showing up to the firehouse, seeing families of the other firefighters, civilians and their children, tables of food, and prizes for the raffles. it's not packed full of people, however a higher turnout than you expected.

and then, most importantly, soap.

wearing his uniform; black slacks that hugged his thighs tight, and polished black boots that gave him a clean-cut look. a fresh shave on his face, still emanating aftershave. and his shirt with the sleeves rolled, to expose his biceps. and over his heart, displaying his badge and the three digits on the outside of the firehouse.

"look at ye, up and walking." he'd say, giving you a friendly side hug while clasping one of your hands. twirls you around slightly, as if to examine how well you've healed.

still, there are small bandages on your body, bruises that finally started to fade, and the soft cast on your wrist. but none of it diminished your beauty.

spending the entire fundraiser at his side, introduced to everyone on his team, and their families. you were out of your element but buzzing with nerves — and as cliché as it was, butterflies. every time you look at him, you remember the relief of seeing his face for the first time; how he cradled you in his arms and pulled you from the flames.

by nightfall, it was mainly the younger crowd left or the older couples without children needing to sleep. through the speaker, top hits played faintly, echoing off the tall walls of the firehouse. there were string lights lining the industrial staircase, attempting and succeeding to give the space an inviting feeling.

each time you looked at the banners and homemade signs, you imagined which ones johnny worked on. picturing him up on one of the ladders, making sure his strips of tape were straight. most of the raffle prizes had been claimed already, leaving miscellaneous home items, or overpriced bath kits.

"are they supposed to be drinking? aren't they on duty?" you chuckled, pointing a finger at two of his fellows, trying their best to hide the beer they smuggled into the party.

johhny shook his head, flashing the whites of his teeth warmly, "aye, they're in for it once all the guests leave."

"oh, is that what i am? just a guest?" you cocked a brow, taking another sip of the punch. he shakes his head, refusing to take his eyes off of you as you walk side by side through the firehouse as if giving you a silent tour of the place. as if he wanted you to show up more, which you wouldn't mind.

"don't do tha' sad face," he finished off his own red cup, tossing it into one of the trash bins. of course, you couldn't resist exaggerating your frown, just to prove your point.

you both made your rounds again, reaching the nearly cleared raffle table. "you know what, i'll get you a prize. how about that?"

intrigued, you tilted your head and nodded, waiting to witness his offer. "lay it on me then."

"let's see..." his fingers roamed along the slim pickings. beer-themed socks? you weren't in a frat. a fuzzy throw blanket? hm, slightly better.

he picked up one of the promising prizes. "oh, what about this? something to add to your beauty routine, eh?" he held up one of the cheap sample kits, sure to irritate your skin more than help it, so you scoffed and acted more unimpressed than you actually felt.

his effort was endearing, and frankly, it was entertaining to watch a tough guy scramble to appease you.

he mumbled a hm, extending out another box to you, which only resulted in more faux disappointment.

"a pressure cooker?" you chuckled. "a fundraiser at a firehouse, and they're giving away pressure cookers..."

he contemplates, clicking his tongue in agreement. he hadn't thought of how hypocritical that was until now. "it's good business, besides, putting out fires is good for the ego." he set the box back down, meeting your gaze for a few seconds.

a small grin appears on his face, "especially if something beautiful comes from the flames." he adds, waiting for the inevitable hitch in your breathing that you try to hard to conceal.

you do just that but end up giving his toned arm a light smack, reminding yourself that there are indeed still people around. and that flirt was as cheesy as the dip bowl you were standing next to.

"what? too soon for that joke, love?"

#firefighter!soap #soap call of duty #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap mactavish #soap mactavish smut #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap x fem reader #soap x you #soap x y/n #mw2 #call of duty #task force 141 #rachel speaks #not writing #mw2 fanfic

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captain-mj · 9 months

Text

Trials of Change

Ghost overhears Soap and a couple of recruits complaining about him and decides maybe he does need to be fixed.

Ghost had never been happier honestly. Really. He and Soap had been dating for… two months, four days and, he checked the time, six glorious hours.

Maybe that happiness made him blind. Foolish or even just stuipd.

Ghost slipped into the room where the other people were. It wasn’t on purpose that he was undetectable. His natural state of being was… well… Ghost.

So he heard the conversation.

Price hummed. “How’s it going with him?”

Soap smiled. “Oh, he’s great.”

“Is he planning on wearing the mask less?”

Ghost internally winced. He understood Price was just asking out of concern. Price was one of the first people to understand that Ghost and Simon were both different people and the exact same.

Soap shrugged. “Don’t know. I wish he would.”

Ghost knew that was true so he didn’t mind it, but he decided to wait a second and not announce his presence. He just sat back to listen.

“Thank God.” One of the rookies piped up. Ghost tensed and glared at them, though they couldn’t feel it unfortunately. “Tired of him walking around all scary. We were all hoping he’d get better when you guys started dating.”

Ghost didn’t understand.

Better? What did they mean better? He was happier. Wasn’t that enough?

Soap looked rueful. “Yeah. I’d like that too. He spooks me sometimes.”

Ghost felt his heart just drop. He was sure if he strained he could hear the sound of it snapping. Ice shards being sent off everywhere. After a moment, he decided to stay where he was. Safe and sound.

As everyone seemed to list off his transgressions.

Did they know he was there and deciding to mess with him? It was right up Soap’s alley, but the rookies usually feared him enough to stay quiet. He doubted they would pick up on what was going on fast enough.

“Please make him wear something with color.”

Soap shrugged. “His closet is nothing but black.”

“Tell him to put something besides his music on.”

Soap rebutted that one too. “He hates my music and you guys don’t get a vote.”

Then the complaints came a bit faster.

“Make him actually talk to people.”

“And stop hiding in his room. It’s a bit creepy at this point.”

“Also why can’t he ever make friends on base?”

“Anger issues. He’s constantly getting pissed for no reason.”

“Please make him take off the mask.”

“And stop staring.”

“And also please stop letting him out at night.”

“Why are you breaking curfew to see him out at night?” Soap remarked, crossing his arms. The recruits cringed and quickly found something interesting in the room to stare at. That’s when Ghost made his escape.

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew people wanted him to change. Always something off putting. It had been like that since he started wearing long sleeves at all time to hide bruises and sleeping through class because his dad kept him awake all night.

But this was new. Did Soap want him to change?

Of course he did.

“Better”

What did better mean?

Soap had been asking him questions lately. Simple things. How was your day? How are you feeling? What do you feel like doing? And Ghost would answer honestly. The bad days had definitely decreased. Ghost enjoyed being around the 141 more. He thought he had been talking more. Just to the 141, Alex, Farah, Alejandro and Rodolfo, but really who else did he need? They all saw him as he was and he thought that was enough.

Apparently not.

Apparently that was not better.

Well, he had a list of things that he could be better at now. Ghost felt stupid. A silly teen trying to keep their boyfriend around.

For a moment, he thought of forgetting this conversation happened. Of taking what Soap would give him and waiting to be abandoned when Soap realized that Ghost was incapable of being what he wanted. But already, he knew this would poison everything. Anytime Soap put his scarf around Ghost because he ran so much colder than his angry Scott or when he asked him to take his mask off when they were alone or every time he introduced him to someone new, he’d wonder if it was somehow a way to change him.

Could he just break up with him? It was the smartest and easiest thing. Shove Soap out of his life and stay exactly where he is. But that meant not having Soap. No more late night tea trips with someone by his side. He’d no longer be there to put hickeys on his neck that he’d grumble about and then secretly like. All the jokes and stolen clothes and the touch. He had forgotten how nice it was to have someone touch him. To put his head on someone’s chest (he hated weight on him because it reminded him of the dirt from the coffin) and hear their heartbeat. Nice and steady and sweet.

Fuck, Ghost couldn’t give that up. He’d also never be able to drink enough of it in to get his fill. So he’d have to be… better.

Maybe he could start small. It was silly, but color was probably the easiest. Wear something besides black.

He didn’t own anything not black.

Fucking hell.

Ghost took a deep breath. Maybe he could start with… music? When did they even play music? During exfil occasionally if Nik was driving? But he didn’t have a mission with Soap for the next few weeks so he could see it regardless.

Anger issues? Yeah, Ghost had them but he didn’t think he ever blew up for no reason. Maybe his reactions were occasionally over the top, but he never hit anyone. Never hit objects near them to show he could either. His last meltdown was months ago and he had, with shockingly no protest but still with a very hurt pride, apologized to the person.

Goddamnit, he just needed a starting place. That’s all. So color it fucking was.

Ghost went to Gaz, hesitant and nervous, but he was the only person he could really ask about this without it being suspicious since he wasn’t there.

“Hey, Garrick.”

Gaz looked up from what he was reading. “Riley!” He liked that about Gaz. When he had first referred to him as Kyle, Gaz had called him Simon. If he used his rank, Gaz responded with his rank. Ghost had learned to stick to last name or callsign with him. They felt more like equals than most of the other people on base.

“Can you help me with something?”

Gaz sat up. “A mission?”

“Where can I get… clothing?”

Gaz paused. “You… The Ghost… want me to help you with shopping?”

Ghost nodded awkwardly. “Yeah… Can we go… shopping?”

Gaz slowly stood up. “Why?”

“I’m going to try changing my style.”

“Why?”

“Just… want to try something… different?”

Gaz frowned and Simon remembered why he didn’t usually go to Gaz for assistance. They could see straight through him. Every time. “You want to try something… different? Why? You’ve never changed in the years I’ve known you.”

Ghost just shrugged awkwardly.

“Alright. Let’s go.” Gaz stood up and pulled his shoes on. “What are you searching for?”

“Something with… color?”

Gaz frowned but obliged. He couldn’t bring Ghost to a mall, worried the people would get him worked up. So instead, he brought him to a strip of stores and picked the most abandoned one. Gaz didn’t really do much, having a feeling he was more playing moral support for whatever breakdown this was. It wasn’t… completely uncommon for Ghost to get the urge to do things. Almost like a mania. However it was never something as simple as this.

He gave Ghost’s a thumbs up when the man grabbed a blue hoodie. Dark blue, so still in theme. Then he grabbed a camo green and ruby red. Nothing but hoodies.

“You going to stick with your normal dark color scheme?” It was a genuine question from Gaz, who was worried about him. Also, depending the answer, it would be easier to help him find things.

Ghost wondered if this was… different enough. “Can you pick something that… isn’t?”

Gaz tilted his head and looked around. He found a polo shirt in a softer green color. “Do you want to try it on before buying it? Make sure you’re comfortable.”

Ghost bounced between his feet, debating. “Yeah.” He found a dressing room and slowly slipped off his black hoodie. The mirror was there. His arm tattoos covered the scars there, but he still felt nervous.

Now his shirt.

Just… take off the shirt.

Take it off.

Ghost pulled it over his head in a rush but he still caught himself in the stupid mirror.

Ugly scarring.

Did Soap not like those? Ghost had tried things to make them fade. Balms and creams and keeping them clean. They were still there. Dark, thick lines. Giant pieces of flesh that were marred for one reason or another.

What if Soap hated those too? Ghost certainly did. It’s why he stayed covered up.

He pulled the new shirt on and didn’t look at himself. The fabric was… fine. Not the best, but fine. The color looked weird against his pale skin.

This was stupid. Again, the feeling of being a teen girl appeared. Was this childish? Of course it was.

He bought the clothing anyway, even though it made his skin crawl.

Gaz smiled at him once they were back in the car. “I’m proud of you.”

Ghost nodded. “Thanks, Gaz.”

“No problem, Ghost.”

Ghost grabbed food and hid in his room to eat. He perched on his desk.

Soap arrived moments later and smiled, sitting on Ghost’s desk chair so they were right next to each other. “Hey, haven’t seen you today.”

“Went out.”

“You went out? By yourself?” Soap sounded so shocked.

Ghost shrugged. “I had Gaz with me.”

“That’s nice! I’m glad you’re doing that.” Soap smiled at him. “Have fun?”

Ghost thought about it. Honestly, when he wasn’t focused on what they were doing, it wasn’t too bad. Hanging out with Gaz, even if they didn’t really talk much, was pretty fun.

“Get anything?”

“More hoodies since you keep stealing mine.”

Soap smiled. “Hell yeah. It’s not my fault you have better taste in hoodies. They’re always so soft and big and smell like you.”

“They’re big because they’re meant to fit me.”

Soap leaned up and kissed his cheek. After having to deal with the people at the store, Soap’s presence was honestly a bit of a balm to his frayed nerves.

Until he thought of why he had gone out.

“Are you content with me?”

Soap paused, looking a bit confused. “Simon, I’m happy with you. Why do you ask?”

“Nothing. Just wondering.”

Johnny hummed. “Take your mask off for me.”

Simon did. He wanted to be what Johnny expected. To change how he was supposed to. Callused fingers ran over his cheekbones. Touching his jaw.

“Beautiful.”

Wrong.

“Did something happen?” Soap was too perceptive.

“No.”

Soap frowned and leaned up, kissing him more. “Alright. Ye won’t talk to me. I won’t push ya.” He cupped his face. “Just talk to me when you’re ready then.”

Ghost frowned. “Nothing wrong. But I will if anything comes up.”

Soap smiled. “All I ask.”

The next time they were in the car, Ghost put on some pop music. It wasn’t what he’d normally listen to. It was just a random list of the top 100 hits. Soap noticed and looked at him oddly. “Where’s your normal rock music?”

Ghost normally made a radio each time they were going to do something together. All of it heavy rock music or metalcore. That was… bad though. Price called it his angry mix and he was trying to not do that. Not to be like that.

Be different.

“Wanted to change it up?” It came out too much like a question.

Soap frowned. He liked all types of music just fine, but Ghost didn’t. Ghost was predictable. Ghost only “Changed it up” when on leave when he listened to classical music. A fact only Soap got to know.

“You’re acting different.”

Ghost shrugged and focused on driving. The other guys seemed on edge now Something was clearly off about him now. It made everyone nervous.

It was exacerbated when Ghost wore colors at the next taskforce meeting. Even Gaz, who had been there when he bought it, looked very uncomfortable when he wore a soft shade of red hoodie and medical mask instead of his balaclava. They all kept glancing over and… looking confused.

Ghost looked at Soap. He ignored that his skin prickled at the attention and the change. That the fabric was itchy against his skin. Or that being so exposed made him want to die right there. None of that quite mattered as much as Soap’s expression. He didn’t look pleased at all. No excitement that Ghost tried to be different. Just… a strange look.

Ghost felt sick. He felt nauseous.

Soap cornered him after the meeting and took him to his bedroom.

Ghost felt like a kid, just sitting on his bed as Soap stared at him.

“I was just trying to be what you wanted.” Simon admitted, yanking the hoodie off. “I heard you and the recruits complaining about me. I just… wanted you to like me.”

Johnny paused and softened. “Simon. I’m sorry. I was letting them complain because you’re their boss. Which I shouldn’t have. Gotta so caught up in you being Ghost, my Lt, I let them disrespect Simon, my boyfriend.” He sank down, getting on his knees in front of him. “All of this… Making yourself so uncomfortable and forcing yourself to change… You tried to do for me?”

Ghost winced. “It’s pathetic. I know. Just…”

Johnny laughed and pulled the medical mask down to kiss him. “Mo chroí. It’s not pathetic. I’m so sorry. If I had known, I would’ve cleared it up for you.” He kissed him a few more times. “I love your angry music and your dark clothing and the fact you only casually show your face to me. And I wouldn’t change you for the world.”

Simon relaxed a little. “Keep going.”

Johnny laughed. “Alright. I like that you’re mean to recruits because you want them to toughen up. You don’t listen when anyone suggests anything because you know you’re going to ignore it and I find it fun. Especially because you listen to me. I like that you’re a little pretentious about your music and that I get to wear your black hoodies. That you have two pairs of pants and that’s all you wear. On leave, I love that you wear a ton of rings. That you’re grouchy in the mornings even though you get up at 5 am when working. I love you, Simon.”

Simon pulled them back so they were laying in bed and Soap continued without a beat. “I love that you wake up at 2 am and make you tea and me a cup of coffee. Love that you sneak into my room all the time and that you steal the blankets. I-”

Simon kissed him. “Alright. You can stop now. I get it.”

“I can keep going. Anytime you want me to.” Johnny promised. “Also, I tore into them later. I wanted you to know. Made fun of all of them.”

Simon laughed and relaxed more into the bed, feeling Johnny pepper kisses on him. “Love you too.”

#johnny soap mactavish #captain john price #ghostsoap #soapghost #simon ghost riley #soap cod #cod mw2 #ghost cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare ii

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