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mlmxreader · 4 months

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When Your Head's Too Loud | Nikto x gn!reader

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↳ ❝ Angsty time with prompt number 30 “You were right, you were so, so fucking right and I hate it” and 34 “I love you, I really do” where reader is so frustrated of Nikto who doubting himself about not being loved in fact everyone actually love him and care for him. ❞

: ̗̀➛ Nikto's head gets loud often, but there is one person he can always trust.

: ̗̀➛ swearing, mental illness, depictions of d.i.d, saneism and ableism

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Nikto often doubted himself, doubted that those around him actually cared from him, and part of it was due to his Dissociative Identity Disorder, as he was often told that he was alone in the world and that nobody actually liked him, not even you.

It would usually make him stow away from everybody else, hiding out in the woods where you had first told him that you loved him, amongst the tall and towering trees that you would often climb and the thick bramble bushes that tugged him closer to their embrace.

Near the small running stream that was usually a murky olive colour, deep and dull green as it kicked up sediment and moss; the sound of it rushing would calm him, and drown almost everything else out.

Nikto knew that he shouldn’t have isolated himself from everybody else, he always got an earful about how unhealthy it was; but it made him feel safe, and it made him feel better.

Insecurity was not a new friend of his; even before the development of his disorder, he had always been taunted on the playground - the ugly kid. Billy no mates.

He had been picked on and kicked to the ground far too many times; a dog that had been beaten by its master to the point of giving up and giving in.

Nikto knew that his career was on thin ice, mostly because nobody wanted to work with someone like him; they called him names, and made comments about his disorder and how it made him violent, unpredictable… you never did, though. You never once did any of that.

His teammates trusted him, of course, but they still held some caution around him; the only one who ever truly let their guard down near him was you.

You would be completely at ease at his side, but for some reason, he still doubted himself. He would always still doubt himself.

Even now, as he sat up in his cot and looked around, he could feel your breath against his hip from where he had pushed himself up, and he could feel your arm lazily draped over him; he grabbed his mask, fixing it on quickly before taking a deep breath.

His eyes were wild and frantic as he heard them talk.

“No one likes you, you know.”

“Nobody can ever trust you - do you really think they’ll ever see you as anything but a psycho killer?”

“That’s all you’ll ever be to them - why do you think they keep calling people psychopaths? They don’t care about people like us, especially not you.”

“Stop it,” Nikto murmured, shaking his head. “Stop it. No, no. We are not- we are okay.”

You stirred upon hearing his voice, rubbing your eyes as you yawned and sat up, your hand coming to his shoulder as you blinked to clear the sleep from your eyes. “Nikto? Why are you wearing your mask?”

He glared at you, shaking his head again. “We’re not…”

“Not what?” You hummed, tilting your head to the side. Your voice still thick with sleep.

He swallowed thickly, the sound audible and loud against the quiet, isolated room. “We’re not good enough for you. We don’t deserve you, never have.”

You scoffed, flopping back down and taking his mask with you. You held it on your chest, smiling as you traced it gently with your fingertips. “Like I give a fuck. Did you forget that I have plenty of blood on my hands, too?”

“You were right,” he muttered, although not to you. “You were right, you were so, so fucking right and I hate it. We’ll never be loved…”

You cleared your throat as you gently smacked the back of your hand against his bicep, drawing his attention to you again. “I love you, I really do, Nikto. I don’t… I don’t let my guard down around many people, but you? I love you enough to never feel unsafe when you’re nearby… even if I’m being shot at.”

He grumbled, slowly lowering himself down so that he was laid next to you, pressing his temple to yours. “You sound almost angry…”

You shook your head, stealing a quick kiss as you sighed. “I’m not angry, just… sometimes, when I hear you talk like that, it’s kinda frustrating - you can’t see yourself the way I do, you can’t see how much you make me laugh when you tell your shit jokes. You can’t see how much my heart races when I get to see you after a day apart. You can’t see how handsome you are… I adore you, every inch and every atom. I adore you… and so, so many of your teammates love you like a brother, they might not adore you like I do, but they do love you, and all of us care about you unconditionally.”

“You mean that?” Nikto asked quietly.

You nodded, leaning into him. “Forever and always. I wasn’t… I wasn’t gonna ask you until we went to your house during our break, but…”

“But?”

“But, would you marry me?” You asked softly. “And I don’t mean it out of pity - I’ve been thinking about asking for a while, now, and… just seems like the right time.”

Nikto nodded, cracking a smile. “I would.”

“I don’t have a ring,” you admitted with a soft laugh. “Can I give you a bit of barbed wire, instead?”

He nodded. “In the morning.”

“Alright,” you smiled, stealing another kiss. “Next time you have doubts… do me a favour? Just wake me up, please. I don’t want you to suffer in silence thinking… y’know.”

Slowly, Nikto nodded again as he turned onto his side and put his arm over you. “Thank you.”

“You know this,” you whispered. “But if shit’s getting too loud in your head, we can go down to the woods together. I’ll keep out of your space, if that’s what you need. But if we go down together, you won’t get a bollocking.”

“I will,” he told you. “Thank you, my love.”

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cloudofbutterflies92 · 2 months

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Put your head on my shoulder

And here is the famous Valentine's Day One shot that I promised, taking inspiration from a post by @creativepromptsforwriting (link here). I hope you like it!!(and happy Valentine's day everyone 💕💕)

Chloe Valentine belongs to @chloekistune

Alyssa Price belongs to @alypink

Valerie "Gorgon" Watson belongs to @onehornedbeast

Fei Xing belongs to @kikiharinezumi

Maya "Pip" van Rijn belongs to @justasmolbard

"You better hope I don't burn your kitchen," was Chloe's sentence as she and Johnny were driving Eden home again. She had wanted to stay for a few hours at Chloe's house, more to help the latter paint the Italian's studio.

Johnny had been with Gaz and Gorgon to train some recruits before offering to accompany her with Chloe, leaving the 'opportunity for Gaz to provide a surprise dinner for the Australian; Price, on the other hand, had the weekend off, determined to spend it together with Aly and their little girl in the country.

And Simon? Simon was waiting for her at their home in Manchester recommending that she not come because he had a surprise in store. Eden did not know what but if Chloe had mentioned cooking then surely something had to do with it. Already she was praying to those in charge.

"It makes one smile that in a short time Simon has become so devoted, even if it doesn't beat my record does it Piplup?" Johnny with a cluck of his own tongue and a 'wink embarrassed Chloe.

"What are you saying come on Johnny" the purple-haired girl hid her face between her knees, receiving a kiss on the head from him.

"Chloe made you smarter"

"Yeah sure munchkin" joked the Scotsman with Eden, their insulting each other was a form of brotherly love.

"Home sweet home, be sure to remember to lock the room. I wouldn't want the wind to ruin everything" after the last recommendation Eden got out of the car waving goodbye to the couple.

As she walked down the small avenue, the wind began to brush her hair, a nice thunderstorm would come but it was pleasant that feeling. It reminded her so much of Simon's caresses.

From her cell phone came a notification, it was from Rodolfo. It was lovely that she had found in Maya a person for whom she was beginning to trust after the failed relationships he had had.

"I wanted to give Maya this bouquet of flowers, they remind me a lot of 'Holland."

"Go on this one" Eden reassured him by smiling at the 'image of the bouquet of tulips of different colors, she should have planted some more in their garden too.

"Babe I'm home" Eden walked in and smelled a scent of home, a scent that reminded her of her time in Rome for her studies.From the kitchen was Simon, focused more than ever on preparing a dinner of Italian dishes.

Small appetizers, Coratella coi Carciofi and especially bucatini alla amatriciana accompanied by a glass of Argiano Brunello di Montalcino.

"Don't look at me like that, I asked Chloe for the recipe since it's Italian," he snorted amused, before taking Mr. Orange in his arms

"You have your food, those kibble cost me a kidney because of your mommy who wants you healthy," gave the cat to his girlfriend, who began cuddling him

"Daddy is a bad boy isn't he?" The female had her face licked by the feline, being joined by the blond, remote control in hand that set off some 50s music

"Put your head on my shoulder," the lieutenant began to hum as he grabbed Eden by the hips, the cat as a spectator of that scene between his owners. The brunette closed her eyes, head resting on his shoulder, and hummed the tune.

"...Hold me in your arms, baby" she looked up, her green eyes in that 'cheerful and comforting expression thinking how lucky she was.

"I have to be careful, I wouldn't want Fei to get pissed off later since she sewed this dress," he whispered eagerly, nibbling on the helix.

"That is, if I don't make this shirt first? What do you say?" She nibbled lightly on his lower lip, chapped from the cold.

With a turn he brought her shoulders against his chest, giving her a string of kisses on her collarbone.

"Except we have to eat" he reluctantly broke away, taking both her hands "I'm really holding back" he murmured over the knuckles of her hands making them. How could she resist such gallantry?

"You're such a submissive" with that little resolve Eden hand in hand with him reached the table.

"Always and always my darlin'"

Tag: @chloekistune @graveyard-party666 @alypink @kaitaiga @corvosattano @onehornedbeast @themotherofhorses @alexxmason @carlosoliveiraa @cassietrn @socially-awkward-skeleton @thewanderer-000 @thedeadthree @pvnkesttt @sinclxirx @simonxriley @marivenah @alicedarkmair @strangefable @captastra @aceghosts @kikiharinezumi @katsigian @dickytwister @justasmolbard @captmactavish

Divider by @archonfurina

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http-paprika · 4 months

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A Captain MacTavish Ramble because this man could run me over and I’d thank him. This has not been beta-read at all, not sorry.

⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆

“Aye, I could be good to you— if you’ll just let me.” The sound of John MacTavish’s voice is like a divine calling, coaxing you to bend to his will. You almost cry out at the feeling of his calloused hands finding their home on your hips, the scruff of his beard rough against your skin

“I keep my promises dinnae I?” Those baby blue eyes looked up at you like you were the moon and the stars. A hungry desire coursing through his blood at the sounds you made. Each cry a prayer, a desperate plea for him. A need for the captain.

He would be good for you, so good you’d never want another.

#captain john mactavish #john soap mactavish #og soap #09 soap mactavish #09 call of duty #call of duty #call of duty one shot #john soap mctavish x you #soap x reader #og john soap mactavish #lord save me

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worstghost · 1 year

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OMG could u write Alejandro when reader gets shot during battle/a mission? (headcanons).

Just angst angst angst with fluffff.

I love alejandro sm, Im living from crumbs of the same fics bc nobody writes neww oness😭😭😭💀💀.

i don't think this is my best, and I'm not very good at angst, but I still loved writing it and I'm sorry it turned into a drabble instead of headcanons, I got carried away 😭 (also sorry again if the spanish is incorrect, i dont trust google translate)

♡You and Alejandro don't get along. It's well known across 141, Los Vaqueros, anyone who sees you two work together.

♡You're constantly bickering, (Soap calls it flirting but you're quick to shut him up), even going as far as insulting each other when you're really low.

♡The issue is you're too similar, too snarky, too confident. You can only one up each other so many times before something breaks. No one can decide if they want it to break though.

The team is holed up in a small home on the edge of town, regrouping and planning the next move and Alejandro is trying to talk to you, but you keep rejecting all of his attempts, and you both know now isn't the time but something finally snaps.

And then he's yelling that "You're being stupid, and you need to listen to me, I know what I'm talking about-"

And you shout back with a low blow, "Of course you know everything, you could fit an entire encyclopedia in that big head of yours-"

His mouth snaps shut, teeth clicking together, and Soap barks out a laugh behind you, and Ghost finally steps in, moving up to you with a loud "Enough!"

And then, the window across from you shatters, and you feel the shot before you hear it.

You're thrown back into the wall, searing pain shooting through your shoulder, down your spine. The air is knocked from your lungs.

It's chaos, panic, Alejandro grabs you and pulls you across the room with him, away from the windows.

You can't swallow the spit in your mouth, you can't think. You just watch as the team huddles around you, Ghost shouting commands and you don't know if he said 'Get up and move' or 'Fuck we're screwed', it's all the same.

Alejandro is pressing his hands against your shoulder, you grit your teeth and dig your nails into his wrist. He takes it and keeps talking to you, telling you to keep your eyes open and on him, look at him, and you do and everything feels different like this. He's so different like this. You can see the panic in his eyes and you feel like you're suffocating against him, clinging to his arms.

He let's you, in fact, he pulls you closer, grasping your face in his hand. "Look at me, cariño, I'm going to get you out of here." It's so gentle, like you'd never seen him before.

You blink, and you're in a stark white room, sunlight peeking through cheap polyester curtains and everything smells like sterile cleaning products and it makes you nauseous.

He's been waiting for you, in the med bay, he doesn't want you to wake up alone. While he's sitting or pacing, he thinks of how things could have been different. If instead of berating you for being stubborn, he had complimented you on your willpower. Or instead of pushing you aside in missions, he had told you he couldn't stand the thought of you getting hurt. So many things he could have done differently, and now he's here, waiting for you to wake up so he can explain himself.

And you do, and when you roll your head to the side and see him your face visibly relaxes, and a wave of relief washes over him.

You're not angry at least, that's all he could ask for.

Alejandro slides his chair closer to the bed and brushes strands of hair from your eyes, trying to think of where to start. You look tired, your lips are chapped and your hair is a mess, but he thinks you still look so beautiful now that you're awake.

"Me asustaste, cariño." He huffs out a laugh at the bewildered expression on your face, sliding his fingers down to touch your jaw.

"I scared you? Alejandro, I thought my last words were going to be telling you you have a fat head."

You join him in laughing, your voice shaky, and he leans in to press his forehead to yours, sharing a breath.

"All is forgiven, as long as you don't try to leave me again." He sighs into you, feeling you nod against him.

Things are definitely different now, but it's not a bad thing.

#cod #cod mw2 #x reader #imagine #alejandro vargas x reader #cod imagine #anon ask #mw2 #call of duty #call of duty one shot #drabble #alejandro vargas x you #request

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vhsgoghs · 30 days

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MASTERLIST

writer enthusiast ! ❛ : mostly valeria › adult • intj • mx • wlw ★ requests always open <3 ★ spanish version of everything on wattpad ★ one shots collections on ao3

❛ : Valeria Garza

hospital • Valeria meets a strange girl when she is exploring a hospital at night

screts • Valeria kiss her girlfriend for last time before a mission

bodyguard • Valeria confesses to the girl she works for that she has been thinking about her in a different way

❛ : Simon Ghost Riley

similar (x OC) • Ghost has to receive a new recruit who coincidentally has the same name as him

roommates • Simon is jealous that his roommate dates other guys

lost you • Simon was injured during a mission and confesses to his girlfriend what he has been thinking

#call of duty #cod x reader #cod x you #cod imagine #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare 3 #masterlist #cod masterlist #call of duty masterlist #one shots #call of duty one shot #simon riley #valeria garza #cod ghost #ghost

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someonexsomeone · 8 months

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Just Like Chet

Title: Just Like Chet

Author: SomeonexSomeone

Word Count: 3.9k

Pairing: John Price x np!Reader

Summary: When you finally get some time off work, anything could happen...including falling head over heels for a man you just met!

Authors Note: Day 9!! So...sorry for this one guys, but things were looking a bit too happy around here. Some real life stuff in this one yikes but I am just a sucker for John Price and how absolutely yummy he is, so hopefully this fits well with this character? Just like all my stuff, as soon as I finish I publish it, so I would love to hear your thoughts on this one!

When you get to a certain age, you start to realize that life becomes just the same constant dreg until death. School at least provided structure, the promise of a place to be for most of the year with the excitement of escaping those walls for 3 whole months to bask in the sun with your friends. Once school gave you the boot, because only a handful of people ever stay for the rest of their lives, work is the next closest thing. And work? It does not give a single damn if you’ve been there for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week like you had been doing your whole life. A vacation? Good luck getting even a moment's rest, even if you requested the time off months in advance and worked above your pay grade for most of that. Even if you were dead tired on your feet, and on the verge of a mental break. Even then, and so much worse than that.

You liked to believe you were a hard worker. Tried to help out where people needed you, completed your work on time, and participated in every lame attempt the company made at bonding coworkers. You had some vacation here and there, but it was extremely rare for you to be granted more than a long weekend here and there.

This is why it was practically a miracle you were sitting on the flight, let alone getting to turn your phone off without fear of a bombardment of calls. Your work, for lack of better words, was getting heavily investigated by some external company, your status at the company meant you were privy to only the bare minimum, which meant a complete shutdown of all productivity until the investigation was over. Projected for an entire week, no one was allowed to access their accounts, their emails, or their reports, lest something was corrupted or changed while being investigated. And, since it was the company under investigation and not any particular low-paid employee, the company was giving PTO for everyone the entire week. You could barely believe it.

Your friends completely jumped at the chance for a vacation, finally something longer than a few days close to home. No, this was a trip to go all out while you could. Corny Hawaiian shirts were a must, matched with warm weather and open-toed shoes were the only thing on their minds as they sent the flight information for you to join them on a week-long trip to Mexico, some small town that was designed specifically for tourists looking to relax by the beach with a coconut in hand and a bustling nightlife. And, with one of your friends working with you at the company, there was hardly a time when everyone would get to be together. It took some convincing on their part, but you couldn’t seem to regret it in the slightest as your nerves built the higher the plane climbed in the sky, practically bouncing in your seat through to landing. Did you look a little crazy? Yeah. But, the goofy grins you shared with your friends made any embarrassment fly out the window. This was your vacation, dammit, and you were going to enjoy it to the fullest.

Landing was a breeze, and getting to the hotel was even easier, what with the endless line of taxis waiting outside for any customer walking their way. The hotel was used only for a drop-off of sorts, and you were down at the beach before you knew it, slathering sunscreen on in hopes to combat the burning sun rays that warmed you to your very core. Even as your skin started to get the hints of sunburn didn’t stop the absolute bliss you were feeling.

Despite being thoroughly exhausted from a day of lounging by the crashing waves, your friends insisted on dragging you out to a nearby club after dinner.

“I’m tired,” you whined jokingly, flopping down on your bed. The others were tossing your clothes left and right, trying to pick out the best outfit to match the rest of them with your mix-match styles.

“You’ll have one specialty cocktail and completely change your tune,” one of them teased, pinching your thigh. The others laughed at your yelp. Why did they have to know you so well?

The music was thumping through your veins, and the alcohol blasting through your chest. Or, wait, was it the other way around? Either way, something commanded your hips and arms to swing the way they were, without an absolute care in the world. Your empty glass was getting swung along, sometimes acting as a microphone, and sometimes being used as a shield to ignore the several people who tried to come up and talk to you. Too many words to think clearly, and alcohol was a much more tolerable than any person who couldn’t take your blabbing as a clear indicator you were too drunk to care about them. After the third attempt to take a sip of your drink, one you swore you had just a second ago in that empty glass, you excused yourself from the man stuttering in front of you. You smiled politely, gestured to your drink, and disappeared into the crowd.

Across the room, you could barely make out one of your friends getting rather handsy with someone, the room too dark to tell if it was one of your other friends or not, and passed another on your way to the bar, sharing smiles. Once you threw yourself against the bar, because, let's be honest, you were never that coordinated with the amount of alcohol you had in your system, you spotted your last friend getting chatty with a group of handsome men. They were huge, much larger than your average gangle of testosterone, all dressed in tight-fitting shirts and cargo pants. Two of them were splitting your friend's attention, one with a goofy smile and another with a small mohawk, while the other two were positioned on either side, seemingly surveying the very drunk crowd around them. You could barely look at the one in the surgical mask, his eyes too piercing to look at for more than a glance, but the other looked…softer, a little more approachable. He stood, as opposed to the others all sitting at the bar, a glass of something amber in his hand, his stance seemingly relaxed, but you could tell by the way his eyes drifted over the crowd he was ready to pounce at any second. The way his arms were crossed made his arms seem just a little bigger, and honestly, if it weren’t for the alcohol flowing through you, you would have blushed at the sudden desire to bury your face into his chest. His beard was neatly trimmed, his hair just as put together, and there was shine of something around his neck. Military, maybe? You vaguely recalled flying over what looked like a military camp on your way here, so maybe this town worked well as a getaway for them too?

A loud laugh from your friend made you jump, eyes tearing away from the handsome man. They looked like they were having fun, playfully hitting one of the men on the shoulders, before dipping down and taking another sip of their multicolored drink. In that moment, they glanced up, catching your eye across the sea of the bar. They let out a call, too far away but you knew it was your name, and they waved frantically to get you to join them. You hesitated, just a moment too long because that scary masked man was looking at you now and it set you on edge, before making your way over.

“Barkeep! Another one of these for my friend,” they cried as you approached, pointing at the slushy drink in front of them. “Guys! This is my friend, the one I was telling you about that works with me! This is Johnny and Kyle!” Your friend swayed gently, the one they called Johnny rested a hand on their waist to steady them, pulling you close until their month was practically in your ear. “Aren’t they so hot?!” Even you could tell that the attempt at a whisper was a complete failure. Though, based on the matching smile the men had, they didn’t seem to mind. “Don’t worry. I saved the hot mature one for you.”

A drink was shoved into your hand as they pushed you, your back colliding with the man you were practically drooling over earlier. They gave you a wink, before turning their attention back to their two companions.

“Woah, there.” Oh, no. That voice would surely make your knees collapse from under you at this rate. “Steady.”

“Sorry,” you managed to squeak, righting yourself too quickly that you tripped over your own tangle of limbs. The man still had a firm grasp on your arm, pulling you to fall into him once again rather than tumble to the floor. Your face was burning.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I think I’ve had more than I usually do.” He chuckled. Oh no.

“It’s a club. You’re supposed to get a little drunk.” At this, you smiled.

“I don’t know if I could quality as ‘a little’ anymore, but thanks anyway.” He guided you to the chair he had previously been standing behind, slotting himself so he was completely facing you. You tried to make sure your eyes were firmly on his face and not where they so obviously wanted to ogle at the way his arm looked as it propped him up. Simultaneously, your brain was completely short-circuiting as he leaned closer, practically making out with your personal bubble, in order to hear you over the thumping music. Don’t kiss him, don’t kiss him, don’t-

“First time?”

“In a while,” you admitted. “I don’t get out much.”

“Work?” You hummed. “I know that feeling. Your friend said you worked together. Same thing, or different department?”

John, as you found out later, was easy to talk to. A little too easy, if you were being completely honest, though you did chalk a lot of that up to the alcoholic slushy you nursed the rest of the night. He was fun, in that goofy dad energy sort of way, making you laugh a little harder than you wanted to admit. He was extremely attentive too, repeating himself when your face displayed the disconnect between your brain and your ear, smiling all the while. You were sure you were annoying him with your non-stop babbling, but he genuinely seemed like he wanted to listen to what you said. He even leaned into your touch when the alcohol got the better of you, laughing when you caught yourself running a finger up and down his arm or when you leaned closer to not so discreetly take a sniff of his cologne.

And, if your night ended up with you in bed together, him pulling sounds out of you that you had only thought possible in raunchy movies, then who were you to complain?

Despite your trip taking an unexpected turn, your friends were more than a little loud in support of the additional person that joined you nearly every day of your remaining trip. John easily won over your friends, his soft smile and kind personality were hard to dislike, meshing so well that them joining you two for breakfast that first morning after was hardly awkward. He joined practically every meal you had, discreetly running his hand over your thigh or bringing your hand up for a gentle kiss, accompanying you on long walks on the beach and even longer nights in your bedroom. John just made you so comfortable, with both yourself and him, that you felt like you had known him for months rather than days. Those early mornings, just laying naked next to each other, voices soft as daylight broke the horizon, made all the stress of your everyday life drift away. Was it crazy to think you were in love with him? Absolutely. But it didn’t stop the neverending trail that led you to think about the possibility of letting yourself love him, about the possibility of this week becoming every week with John by your side. It made you absolutely giddy in a way you never had before.

The week was even more blissful than you could have imagined, beating out every other vacation you'd ever had by a mile. The thought that this trip was almost over made tears well up in your eyes, but it wasn’t like you couldn’t stay in touch, right? John told you he wasn’t stationed in Mexico, just visiting for something work-related (top secret he had whispered with a smile and a kiss), so maybe he could be stationed closer to you? Or, you felt it crazy to admit, maybe…you could move a little closer to him? You shook your head immediately at the thought. You had known him for a week, a week, but there was something about John Price that made you want to think irrational thoughts if it meant you got to keep him.

On the last night of your trip, your friends pulled you along to a nice restaurant, the best one in the surrounding area of the hotel, and gorged on the best food of the trip, drinks, of course, in hand. They teased you endlessly about your John, one of your friends going as far as teasing that maybe John could get them in contact with the other hotties on his team. Johnny and Kyle had ghosted your friend pretty hardcore after that night, but they didn’t seem off-put by it, instead turning that night into a challenge of sorts to sleep with as many people as possible before going home.

“Two out of five of us hooking up with guys from that unit has to be impressive right?” One of them joked, laughing goodnaturedly as you swatted at them. “Let’s make it five out of five!”

“As long as John is off the table,” you smiled, “you lot are hot enough to bag them without my help.” They cheered, clinking glasses together before ordering another round.

You promised John you would meet him at your hotel room when your dinner was over, wanting to spend a little more time with him before your early flight the next morning. With a hundred promises to see them in the morning and promising not to run off with John in the middle of the night, you left the girls at the front of the restaurant, heading back to the hotel as they headed back to the bar for one last hurrah. A little drunk, but the confidence it gave you made you practically skip back to the hotel, giddy with the prospect of getting John all to yourself for the rest of the night. Besides, if you didn’t get any sleep tonight, that’s what the plane ride was for.

Just at the entrance of the hotel, you stopped dead, quickly ducking behind the nearest wall. Your John was talking quietly with that masked man you saw on the first night. He looked a little different, beanie pulled low on his head to accompany the mask, but you recognized him by the hunch in his shoulder alone. Besides, who else would wear a mask in this heat?

“...isn’t a part of the plan,” you managed to catch the masked man say, “...compromised…could find out…vulnerable to the mission…”

Compromised? Find out? You had a horrible feeling, like a rock sinking in your stomach.

“They don’t know anything…” John said, anger on his face. His voice was a little louder, rough and clear in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

“...don’t know…already got the information…” John said something in response, too low for you to make out, but it made the masked man tense. “...leave soon…Cut off contact then and be done with it. They don’t mean anything to you anyway.”

“That’s no way to speak to your superior, Lieutenant.”

“This is why…leave Johnny…seduce…” His voice was so low you could barely hear him, and you had a feeling that whatever was said was more to himself than anyone else. You gulped, tears on the verge of spilling. “I want to trust you, Captain, but you’re too close to this.”

There was a part of you, a naively desperate part, that wanted John to continue to use that voice, deny to this masked man that you weren’t the target of whatever information they needed so John would still be able to see you past this trip. Your heart sunk as John signed, rubbing his hand up and down his face once, before meeting eyes with the masked man again.

“You’re right. I’ll handle this tonight.” They looked at each other for a long moment, before the masked man nodded once, turning on his heel. You quickly ducked behind the wall, hiding in the shadows as the man walked past you with only the smallest falter in his step. When he disappeared at the next turn, you stepped out from the alleyway. John was gone as well, no doubt heading up to your hotel room to break your heart or keep his promise to spend the night with you.

It was like your feet couldn’t decide what to do, too uncertain to head towards the hotel but also too cowardly to run away. You wanted to see him, pathetically so, but was that desire enough to override the betrayal you felt deep in your bones?

You scoffed to yourself. Who were you kidding? John had only known you for a week, what other reason would there be for him to approach you as hard as he did other than to get intel? You felt like a fool. No wonder he asked about your work so much, about the investigation that brought you on this trip, and the connection your friend had to the company! At the time it just felt like he was trying to make small talk, the easy questions you ask in the beginning of a relationship, but those happy memories were tainted now with the knowledge he was just using you for information. All those nights together, the hours you spent talking, the things he told you; were any of those real? You hiccuped a sob, pushing your hand against your mouth to silence the sound, but it didn’t stop the tears from falling. You felt dirty, hurt, used.

By the time you reached your hotel room, your face was dry, a little makeup reapplied to hide the puffiness, and your mind a little clearer. You took a second longer to compose yourself before pushing open the door, the smile that used to come so easily to your face when you saw John only a little difficult to recreate from memory. John looked up from his book, stretched out on the bed in a way that used to make your stomach flip in happiness. That flip was still there, but even he could see the flash of bitterness.

“Darling?” You shivered at the nickname. “You alright?”

There were a million things you wanted to say to him. Yell, scream, throw things, and demand answers. Sob uncontrollably and ask if any of it was the truth. Leave and never look back.

“I’m just gonna miss you. So much.” The words were as shocking to you as they were to him if his face was any indication. He was up in the next moment, wrapping his arms tightly around you.

“Oh, my dear…” he whispered against your head. You shook lightly in his arms, betrayed by both him and the words you spoke into existence. It didn’t go unnoticed by either of you that he offered no other verbal comfort. What would he even say? That he would keep in touch? He would move the earth to stay with you? That this week had been the best that either of you had ever had and the thought of it being over was breaking something deep inside? No, as much as those promises wanted to be real, there was too much to consider to say something that definite. Instead, John pulled away gently, kissing you with everything he had.

He loved you slow that night. It was everything you had dreamed about, the exact way you had told your friends you wished the night would go. For those hours, you forgot about your pain, just for a little while, to completely enjoy the little slice of love John Price allowed himself to give you. His hands, rough and calloused from years of hard work, held you like a precious thing, like his precious thing. As much as you knew you should, as much as you knew your friends would be pissed at the situation, you didn’t even have the heart to be upset at him when he looked at you with that unspoken regret. You just kissed each of his cheeks gently, running your fingers over the creases in his face to smooth them away and allow yourself to give him some comfort. His loving gaze, the one that didn’t falter at any position, brought tears to your eyes. That night, you allowed yourself to be just a little greedy, and you could tell he allowed himself the same. A silent goodbye, even if neither of you wanted it.

When the sun rose the next morning, it was like the final notes of an epic symphony, a gentle fade from the swell of instruments, all culminating in these final moments before silence. You woke, as much as you wanted to sleep through his departure, keeping your eyes closed as you tracked his movement through the room. In all honesty, you were surprised he was still there. Surely it would have been easier for both of you if he slipped out in the middle of the night, taking everything that reminded you of him and disappearing without a trace, never to be heard from again. But, there was something odd in the way he moved. It was like he paused after every task, taking the few steps it took to make his way back to your side, running a hand over your sleeping face before grabbing something else, and repeating the cycle. After the first few times, you dared to lean into his touch, which earned you a kiss on the head. The tears were gathering again, despite your refusal to allow them to fall. When the last of his stuff was gathered from every nook and cranny, he approached your side one final time.

He reached out, running a hand over your face like he had been. You followed by leaning into his touch, as you had been. But when his hand continued to move, using your chin to guide your lips to his, you couldn’t stop the tears from falling, or the desperate movement of your lips as you bid him farewell. There really was a language all of its own in a kiss, you had found out in that kiss, and John’s was an essay of an apology, pushing against yours until both of you were out of breath, trying to get you to understand something he couldn’t say out loud.

John ran his hand over your face one last time, kissed your head, then disappeared from your life, leaving only silence in his wake.

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masterlist l What is Laufeyfest? l Laufeyfest masterlist

#someonexsomeone #laufeyfest #cod imagine #cod one shot #cod mw imagine #john price x reader #john price x you #john price imagine #john price one shot #modern warfare imagine #call of duty imagine #call of duty one shot

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acrimsoncurse · 10 months

Text

Loose Ends - '09 Campaign Ending Rewrite

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Gary "Roach" Sanderson (Platonic)

word count: 1,500

warnings: character death, military violence, guns, angst tehe

summary: What if Ghost was the one alive at the end of the '09 campaign instead of Roach?

additional notes: I have brain rot still from the original '09 campaign and I'm still upset about how it ends. This is also cross-posted on ao3!

“Roach! I got you covered, go go!” Ghost waved just before he adjusted his hand on his weapon. “Watch for the mortars!” He warned as he shot off a few rounds, glancing around him before he made a run for another tree for cover. They were being compromised, the tree line being overtaken. They had to get out and Roach was far faster than him, it would be easier for him to be covered than for him to cover Ghost.

He flinched ever so slightly at the explosion followed by a yell behind him, taking a glance back and his eyes widened behind his sunglasses. “Roach!” The fire drowned out his own voice as he called for the other man. There wasn’t a second thought before he ran for him, sliding down the rest of the hill and going for him. A fear settled deep in his chest at that moment.

Gloved hands grabbing at his vest to pull him out of the way the best he could. Completely deadweight and Ghost having to really use his all to pull him. “I’ve got you Roach, hang on!” His rifle fell to his side now as he pulled him back. His light coloured uniform now covered in dirt and blood, unsure where that blood was coming from but there wasn’t much he could do in that moment. Not with the fire that was incoming.

“Roach you’ve got to wake up mate.” He told him, giving him a small shake, “I need your help here.” He couldn’t drag him and shoot but he’d damn well try if he needed to. Ghost had to let go of him for a moment, crouching next to him, aiming his gun and shooting a few rounds off before he turned his attention back to him, patting the side of his masked face. “Come on buddy, you’re not goin’ out from a fuckin’ mortar.” Grabbing a hold of his vest to drag him again and feeling the slight shift from him.

Letting out a breath of relief. Glancing at the treeline that was now being compromised as they grew closer to the landing zone. “Bloody hell.” He muttered as he watched more appear, what he hadn’t expected was for Roach to start aiming, now watching his back as he got them to safety, radioing for the chopper to take aim. It may have been only a few moments before Roach grew heavy again, his head fallen back ungracefully and his rifle no longer gripped tightly in his hands. It’d been enough time for him to be able to get them some sort of cover as he dragged him the rest of the way to the landing helicopter.

Dropping the injured man as carefully as he could so he could reposition. Grabbing at his arm, “Roach come on, wake up mate!” This time it was more of an order, while concern still settled deep within him at least he was alive. That’s all he could ask for right? Even if the crimson stains grew in size.

“Come on! Get up Roach! Get up, get up!” He hauled Roach to his feet as he slowly came to, getting a footing of his own but leaning his body against Ghosts. His arm wrapped around his midsection while he brought Roach’s arm around his neck. His gaze shifted towards the ramp as it started to open.

No man left behind.

“We’re almost there. We’ve come this far, don't drop on me now.” Ghost spoke, was it to bring Roach back into the present or was it to bring a sort of comfort to himself? The two moved forward as Shepherd started to exit and approach them. Any acts of professionalism were small, his concerns on the man who was even quieter than himself. “Do you have the DSM?”

Glancing between the two, he could feel the warmth of the blood seep through his own gloves. “We got it sir.” Nodding.

A faint chuckle had been the only thing Ghost had heard for a second despite the blades overhead. “Good, that’s one less loose end.” Shepherd's hand reached over and placed itself on Roach’s shoulder.

Ghost’s brows furrowed behind the mask, “We need a medic stat. Sandersons been—” It happened fast. With little time for Ghost to react, a split second and it had all happened and there had been nothing Ghost could do. He hadn’t expected a betrayal by any means. A pistol was brought from Shepherds side, aimed and fired. The bullet went straight into Roach’s midsection, sending him falling back from impact. ”NO” The words escaped his mouth just as quickly.

Whatever hold the two men had on one another was no longer there, hearing the thud of Roach’s body hit the ground beside him, loud groans of pain. Ghost reached for his rifle, taking aim and before he’d been able to fire he felt a sharp pain as he realized Shepherd's pistol had now been pointing at him. The pointblank impact caused him to stumble back, sending him off balance and falling in a fashion similar to Roach’s. Sunglasses clattering off his face and cracking just out of reach.

“What the—'' He groaned, feeling liquid start to seep underneath the fabric. For a brief moment he was Simon Riley. No longer Ghost, that fear from prior coming back like a wave that he couldn’t swim away from. Gasping for air that had been knocked out of his lungs, trying to process what happened. Roach. Turning his gaze to the other man who had very little movement, opening his own mouth in an attempt to find his voice as he watched Shepherd take the DSM without a care, a hand on his wrist that was easily ripped away… What was happening? Trying to speak but nothing came out, the one damn time he needed it too. Watching as Shepherd took leave and attempting to move through the pain that was blurring his vision, or were those tears?

“All targets destroyed” “Solid copy. No movement detected. 2-6 going into holding pattern”

He could hear the radios of the Shadows who approached, picking up Roach and moving him without a damn care in the world. The man no longer conscious. Every bit of him wanted to order Roach to stay awake, to fight the pain, to _stay alive._ But what was Ghost doing? Succumbing to it as well? The flaring pain paired with the lack of oxygen. This was it.

Feeling himself get picked up before he followed Roach’s move of blacking out. Only to reawaken when he hit the ground just as hard, if not harder. Being thrown close to Roach and…No movement. His chest not moving underneath his gear, his eyelids remained closed, fabric stained red. Something caught in his throat, not again… Not again this wasn’t happening again.

“Ghost! Come in!! This is Price! We’re under attack by Shepherds men in the boneyard! Soap! Hold! DO. NOT. TRUST. SHEPHERD. I’ll say it again! Do not trust Shepherd!! SOAP! GET DOWN!”

His radio still worked but the energy it took to reach for it, and Shepherd knew he was still alive. Meeting eye contact directly with the American as his men dumped…gasoline? On them… Gasoline. _No… No no no. Simon MOVE._ His body remained there, feeling heavier than it did when he found his family.

“I never liked the damn mask. Makes you look like a fucking asshole.” Shepherd took a drag of the cigar before he effortlessly tossed it onto Roach’s unconscious body.

”Roach” He choked finally, the scent of gasoline suffocating and the sight of the flames pained. Watching as they got closer to him, Shepherd and the Shadows having made distance by that point.

Get up. Get up! MOVE SIMON!

Their uniforms were only so resistant to flames and only pieces of it was. Ghost was covered in gasoline, any attempt to get near would result in it spreading to him as well, “Roach…Come on Gary if you’re still there you gotta move.” He tried as he had no choice but to pull himself away with what energy he could muster up. A shitty attempt at waking him up but what more could he do? There wasn’t enough time to get rid of any soaked fabric he wore. Unable to do anything other than to slide as quickly as he could out of the grasp of the flames, drenched in gasoline and watching his comrade burn, he could do nothing about it.

“Price, this is Ghost.” He paused, out of breath and needing more than just a moment but not having that option, “Shepherds gone.”

Another pause, “Roach was KIA.” Attempting to not let his voice falter but failing to do so as he glanced at the flames from where he had crawled to.

“Fuckin' hell I'm hit!! Shepherd’s tryna get rid of us. Do not trust any of them. Do you copy? Do not trust any of Shepherds men”

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enbyonmandalore · 11 months

Text

Somebody Wins, Somebody Won't

König x OC Heaven "Satan" St. John

Rating: SFW 18+

Word Count: many

Warnings: ANGST, abuse, death, description of a PTSD episode, graphic descriptions of wounds, mention of firearms/weapons, torture, violence typical to the CoD franchise

Summary: Ghost, Soap, König and Fender are on a mission to retrieve intel and disable enemy weaponry. Mission itself goes fine, but evac is botched when the pilots go MIA.

A/N: More or less inspired by the phrase "Brutalize me, I will heal."

__________________________________________________________

Somebody Wins, Somebody won't

"Bravo 0-7, come in.", crackled Soap's voice through the radio. "Something's wrong."

"Cut out the pessimism, Sergeant.", Ghost answered, careful not to trip over roots or fallen branches on his way to the evac site. They -meaning himself and Soap- had been on a mission along with two men from KorTac, who were currently sharing a base with the 141. Soap had split off from the main group and now they had to rendezvous at the evacuation site, where there was a helo waiting for them.

"No, I mean it Lt.", the radio squawked again.

Soap was not far from the evac site. He'd been making sure the surrounding area was clear before approaching the helo where Satan and their co-pilot were waiting to pick them up. He was watching the helo closely through the scope of his sniper rifle, when he noticed the uneasy feeling creeping up his spine. Normally there would be some sort of movement, but everything was perfectly still.

"Lt., I can't reach the helo team on comms.", he informed Ghost, not taking his eyes off of the helicopter the entire time.

"Us neither. Don't approach until we get there."

By now a fleeting suspicion had also crossed Ghost's mind, but he didn't say it aloud in hopes he didn't accidentally manifest it into reality. The two KorTac men exchanged a quick glance, but remained silent. They both had their rifles ready, though, weary of their surroundings as always.

Soap saw the trio coming and made himself known, so Ghost didn't accidentally shoot him. After briefly checking in with each other, they approached the helo sitting in the clearing in front of them; Ghost went in first, rifle drawn. Immediately a feeling of dread rose in Soap's chest and he snuk a look at the big bastard from KorTac - the one Satan obviously fancied. The man had to hunch over as to not hit his head.

"Suspicion confirmed. Signs of a struggle.", came Ghost's voice from the front. He emerged from the cockpit holding something in his hand. A dropped knife with blood on the blade.

"Pilots are gone."

They managed to inform HQ via radio. Captain Price was anything but pleased that his boys were stuck in the middle of enemy infested territory, but he promised to send another helicopter to get them all out of there and instructed them to stay silent and vigilant for the time being. He strictly forbid Ghost from flying the stranded chopper himself. Price would be the one to inform the leader of KorTac, a burly Irishman called Declan Conor. When the second helicopter had arrived and flown them back to the safety of their shared headquarters, Captain Price and Conor immediately sat the four of them down to debrief and discuss. It was a unanimous agreement that Satan and their co-pilot -a woman by the name of Joanna "Gem" Smith- had to be found. They were vital for the success of the mission and knew too much to be left for dead.

Conor agreed to let Price lead the upcoming search and rescue mission, on the condition that he himself could accompany Fender and König. Both Soap and Ghost were also on board.

Heaven's boots scraped on the concrete floor as their limp body hung between the two men dragging them through the corridor and towards an isolated room. They were missing their plate carrier and helmet, barely conscious having taken the butt of a rifle to the face moments before. But every last fiber in their body was willing to fight. Fight to survive, fight to stay calm. They didn't want to go out like this, but they would if that's what it took to keep the mission from failing. That was a risk that came with the job. Somebody wins, somebody won't. Heaven just hoped that the others were aware of what had happened, that they were safe. Gem's body lay somewhere in the woods, having fought one of the attackers to the death. A shame, really. Joanna had been a good soldier. But death was probably preferable to what their attackers had in store for them next.

Inside the room at the end of the corridor, the two men wrestled Satan to their knees, tugging their arms up and cuffing them to a chain hanging from the ceiling, forcing them into an incredibly compromising, vulnerable position.

One of them reached to pull off their balaclava, just as a third man entered the room.

"Shiiiiit, Captain. This one's seen better times.", he exclaimed with a sarcastic sneer as he revealed Satan's scarred and bruised visage. They stared up at the men through their brows. Hatred boiled in their veins and they had to concentrate on remaining calm. But the pain in their joints and the feeling of blood running down their temple was ever-present.

The Captain stepped forward, grabbing Satan by the chin and forcing them to look directly at his face. His analyzing gaze caught on their burn scars, but Satan didn't budge. In fact they had to resist the urge to spit at him, knowing exactly what kind of treatment that would get them.

"Hmh", he grunted, "Looks like this is going to be a lot of work, but they will talk. I want everything they know. Where the rest of them went, everything."

He sounded Russian. The way he pronounced his A's and R's gave it away. The other man hadn't had such an accent. He motioned for his two goons to take over and left the room, slamming the metal door behind him.

"Alright", said the first man, grabbing a handful of Satan's hair and pulling it so hard he might as well just snap their neck instead. "Tell us what you know and this will be over soon."

"Ní labhraím le Rúisigh.", Satan growled through gritted teeth. I don't talk to Russians.

"What the fuck did you just say?", the second man now said. He didn't have an accent either - hired guns, most likely.

"Téigh fuck duit féin." Go fuck yourself.

As a response, the man to their right kicked them in the stomach. Satan gasped, unable to bend over in pain.

"I am going to fucking break you, until the only thing you can still do is talk.", the other man said and Satan deduced that he ranked higher than the other man. He turned around briefly and grabbed something off of a table. When he turned back and made eye contact with Satan, they froze. He held up a large combat knife and began cutting away at their uniform shirt. Once the shirt was in shreds, he crouched down to their level.

"Maybe this is going to loosen your tongue..."

The men started taking turns kicking and punching them for every question left unanswered. Again and again. And still the only words from Satan's lips were curses in their mother tongue. With every passing minute, the guy in charge got angrier. Next, he used their back and chest as a cutting board. The deeper he cut, the more ragged Satan's breath became and against their better judgement they screamed out in agony. Memories from the exorcism began flooding their brain. They were back there. This was it.

Satan was still screaming even after the men had stopped actively hurting them. Their eyes wide and panicked, a thousand mile stare. They could barely breathe.

"Now will you speak fucking English?", one of the men barked and waved a handgun in their face, momentarily snapping them out of their haze. "Or I'm sticking this in your gullet and pulling the trigger."

"It's too late.", Satan whispered, voice hoarse, their mind slowly fading. It was wandering to places where it definitely shouldn't be, their brain desperately fighting against itself, trying to protect Heaven from the flashbacks. They felt their body go numb.

"My body is here, but inside... Inside I'm...n-not there."

Next thing they knew was one of the men swinging a crowbar, knocking them out.

"Brace!"

Everyone ducked as the small pack of explosives blew up the lock, leaving the door hanging crookedly on one hinge. König kicked it open like the battering ram he was, Conor and Soap directly behind him. They almost stumbled into him as he stopped dead in his tracks and Soap muttered a curse word König didn't understand.

He mumbled a quiet "Oh Scheiße" himself and made space for the other two to enter the room. "Soap, inform Price. We found them."

"Aye!", Soap replied, followed the order and radioed his Captain.

Conor kept watch at the door, while König got down on one knee in front of the lifeless figure in the middle of the room. He brought his hand up to Satan's neck to check for a pulse and they flinched at his touch. Alive enough to react.

"It's okay, it's okay!", he said quickly, crouching down even further so they could see him better. "Hey, hey! It's me, König!"

It took a moment for Satan to stop struggling against his touch. König understood though, seeing the terrible condition they were in. Battered and bruised all over, deep purple marks around their neck and fresh lacerations on their chest and back that would no doubt leave nasty new scars.

"...König?" Satan's voice was weak and shaky. They had to visibly fight to lift their head enough to make eye contact. "Soap", they croaked and the Scotsman nodded.

"We need to get you outta here, Heaven.", he said, fishing for something in his pocket. "Hold still!"

Soap busted the handcuffs in under 30 seconds. Satan almost fell on their face and the other two soldiers quickly helped them to their feet, holding them up by their underarms.

"Can ye stand, lad?"

No answer.

"It's alright", König intervened, "I'll carry them. You cover me."

There was no time to look for a shirt or thelike to cover up Satan's torso, they had to move quickly. Conor had already informed Ghost and Fender and they would RV outside. König carefully hoisted Satan's abused body onto his arms, cautious to keep their head stable and a close to his chest as possible, ready to shield them with his own body if he had to. The now four of them made their way out of the enemy compound.

"Stay awake, please, stay with me", König repeated like a mantra as Satan's eyes began to roll back. They winced in pain as they turned their head to look around in confusion. They had no idea what was happening, their mind still too disconnected from their body to really take in the situation at hand.

"Come on, you'll live.", they heard a familiar voice say, it drowned out the roaring of their own blood in their ears for a moment, coating their brain like honey would a sore throat.

Soap shouted for a medic as soon as they arrived back on base. Captain Price was already there, pulling Conor to the side immediately. Two medics rushed by to take care of Satan and König, reluctantly, let them go.

The white light was blinding and it hurt their eyes. Heaven wanted to cover their eyes, shield them from the brightness that assaulted all of their senses at once, but moving was near impossible. Their breath caught in their lungs, every fiber of their being ready to continue fighting for their life.

"Easy there", a voice came through to them. "Satan, it's okay."

It was a friendly, warm voice. Their skin was prickling and they were overcome by a sudden urge to tear it off - tear off whatever was constricting them, holding them in place.

"Whoa, whoa! Stop, you need those!"

"You're safe!", another voice chimed in. This one sounded the way the sun felt on one's bare face after a long, cold winter.

It finally made them open their eyes.

"Deep breaths, okay?", Captain Price said. He sat on a chair to their right, his dark watchful eyes on them. Heaven only now noticed that they were hyperventilating. They also noticed that they were hooked up to several pieces of medical equipment, multiple cables connected their body to beeping screens and IV drips. It was itchy.

"Welcome back, Satan.", Price smiled and lifted his hand from their wrist where he'd been stopping them from clawing at an IV needle. Heaven felt dizzy looking around, so they tried to focus on Price. He looked about as shitty as Heaven felt, dark circles under his eyes and a crease of worry on his forehead.

"Gottseidank you're okay.", they heard the other voice say again, accompanied by a heavy sigh. It was the voice that had woken them up from their delirium and the accent gave it away - it was König on the other side of their bed.

"Don't worry, you will heal.", he reassured them and Heaven felt him touch their arm. It look them a lot of strength, but they managed to turn their head in his direction. They wanted to speak, tell him that they were going to be alright, but their throat already protested at the thought of having to form coherent words.

"I...", they whispered, "I always do."

König looked up from fidgeting with his hands. Their eyes met and the unbelievable amount of worry Heaven saw in his eyes almost tore their heart to pieces. So much emotion showing through two holes in a mask.

Don't worry about me., they wanted to say, but they could only cough.

"Enemy fucked you up pretty bad, but he's right, Satan.", Captain Price spoke again. "You'll heal soon and we'll get you a psych eval, just to be sure."

With great effort, Heaven shook their head No. Attempting to make their voice as clear as possible, they cleared their throat once before they answered. "No, Sir. I'm fine."

Price cocked his head and lifted an eyebrow. Heaven suddenly realized how much their face hurt.

"They didn't...break me. Only my body."

"Well...", Price sighed in response, "I suppose that's one way to put it. You aren't missing any body parts."

After a moment of silence he added: "You are still getting that psych eval. That's an order."

Heaven attempted a smile, but quickly grimaced from the pain. The Captain stood up, placing a careful hand on Heaven's shoulder. "I have some reports to write. You get some more rest. This button here", he showed them a bright red button on a cable next to their hand, "will call the medic on shift, yeah?"

Satan nodded and Captain Price turned to leave. Before he reached the door, though, he turned back around and fixated König.

"Let my pilot rest, please."

"Yes, Sir.", König replied and lifted both hands to show compliance. Price nodded sternly and finally left.

"Hey", Heaven whispered to König.

"Hey", he said back.

"How long was I out for?"

"A day. Medics have you on the good stuff." Heaven didn't need to see his face to know that he was half-smiling under his hood. They lost themselves in thought for a while, before speaking up again.

"König?", they asked and he almost flinched, as if he, too, had been deep in thought. "Can you...hold my hand?"

"Oh- Of course." He reached for their left hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. It helped Heaven to ground themselves, to stay in reality and not drift off again. His familiar presence was soothing. Sitting silently beside them, König was thankful Heaven couldn't see his face. He was suddenly very aware of his own body, having not left Heaven's side the entire time. He wasn't sure what to say or do in this moment, he didn't want to ruin it. So he just let them hold his hand, listened to the rhythm of their breath that became steadier by the minute.

The next time he looked at their face, Heaven's eyes were closed, fast asleep.

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This fanfiction is property of @enbyonmandalore (Tumblr). I do not own any of the characters associated with the Call Of Duty franchise. Do not repost/crosspost on other accounts or websites, edit, translate or otherwise change this piece of writing. Rebloging is fine, reposting is not.

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swordsandholly · 13 days

Text

Double Date - Double Down

NSFW | MDNI

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!plus size!reader

Word count: 4.9k

Summary: When you get a call in the middle of the afternoon from your friend begging you to fill an empty spot on a double date your initial instinct is a hard no. After all, no one wants to go on a blind double date and be surprised by the fat friend. It doesn’t help that this Simon guy is stupid fucking hot and obviously doesn’t like you - if his lack of talking is anything to go by.

A/N: Just a fun little oneshot I used as a warmup between working on chapters of future multi chapter projects.

“I said *no*.” You snap, angrily folding the washcloth in your hands.

Your friend splutters from the other side of the phone, the desperation in her voice only growing now that she’s on her fourth ask. “*Pleeeaase*! Steph backed out last minute and no one else is free-“

“How do you know I’m free?”

“You just said you were!”

You huff. She’s got you there. When she first called, you admitted you didn’t have anything going on but that was *before* she told you the plan for the night. Before she mentioned that her very, very conventionally hot military boyfriend wanted to do a little double date with his friend and one of hers. Plus, you take a least a little offense to being second choice. Really, last choice, it seems.

“Cass, you can’t just set up a blind date and take your fat friend. That’s not-“

“You’re not fat, love. You’re beautiful.” Her words drip with turned honey. You make a gagging face to yourself in the mirror. “You just need more confidence!”

You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could try, for the millionth time, to explain to her the nuanced ins and outs of dating as a fat woman. The rules and stats that could rival even the most complex rpg… or you could be petty. It takes less time to be petty. “If I go, you’re paying for my drinks.”

“Johnny’s friend will probably-“

“Yeah, and when he leaves you’re paying for my tab.”

“He won’t-“

“We got a deal?”

She clicks her tongue. “*Fiiiine*.”

At least you can get wasted for free either way. A small consolation. She texts you the time and location, barely leaving you with enough time to shower and turn yourself into something presentable. Not that you really care. It’s going to be shit either way, most likely. Staring yourself down in the mirror, you suppose you could at least try to look somewhat attractive. If you’re about to get rejected (or possibly shouted at, you’ll never forget *that* horrendous interaction) you might as well feel your best.

The pub is small as you push through the front door. Casual. A couple pool tables, some darts, a large bar and few booths with stools on the outer side. You scan the room, searching for Cass’s familiar face.

“Over here!” Cass waves with a wide arc at you, a grin plastered from ear to ear. At least she’s having fun.

You take a long breath, bracing yourself for whatever is about to happen. Cass introduces you to her boyfriend - who is somehow even hotter in person. You can see why she’s so smitten with him. Johnny looks you up and down as he shakes your hand. He doesn’t comment, or make a face, or really react in any particular way, but you can feel a shift. Something in his eyes…

Maybe it’s just your imagination. You’ve always been a little over sensitive.

“Si will be back in a sec. Stepped over tae get a drink.” He flashes a grin.

You hum, quietly folding your hand as Cass pushes a cocktail for you that she preemptively ordered. Criticize her as much as you like, she knows her mixes.

“There he is.” Johnny grins, turning slightly.

You follow his gaze, heart sinking as your eyes settle on the man approaching your table. He’s massive. Tall and wide. Total brick shithouse. His face is mostly covered by a black surgical mask. A few years ago you might have questioned it but at this point you couldn’t care less, especially when his dark eyes meet yours, small flecks of gold honey catching the low bar lights. Barely styled tufts of blonde hair stick up from his head. They look like they might curl if he let it grow a little longer.

All in all, wayyyy out of your league.

He settles into his seat with all the confidence of any military man - back ramrod straight. He extends a large hand. “Simon Riley.”

You murmur your name, somewhat enthralled by the half lidded, almost bored look in his eyes. Now that he’s closer you notice a large scar splitting his left eyebrow and light, newly forming crows feet in the corners of his eyes.

“S-so you’re military, too?” You stutter, eyes trained on his the massive hand holding his glass. It’s nicely vascular, his nails are well groomed but it also looks like he could snap you in half with it.

Not that that’s entirely a bad thing - whatever that may or may not say about you.

He nods. “I’m a Lieutenant.”

“Oh! Officer position. So you’re smart, then?” You try to be charming, to give him a sweet smile and keep your body language open.

“Enough.” He deadpans. It takes a few beats for you to realize he’s not going to say anything else.

“Uh…” You squirm awkwardly under his gaze. It’s intense - his dark eyes nearly black in the low light of the bar. “I do hair.”

Conversation is slow, to say the least. The longest answer he gives you is maybe five words. He only flips up the mask long enough to take a sip of his drink every so often. You start to talk less, opting toward a group conversation in which Johnny takes the lead, which he is obviously very good at. He regales you and Cass with a few stories of his and Simon’s adventures. Some funny, some brave, some worrying. He’s setting the man up to be a god, nearly, but Simon himself just shakes his head and insists Johnny is exaggerating.

You wonder what he sees in Simon. Alternatively, you wonder what *you’re* supposed to see in Simon. Besides his good looks, of course. He’s… bland. Obviously bored if his constant glances toward the exits and rhythmic, occasional tapping on the corner of the table are anything to go by.

“Want tae go dance, lovie?” You overhear Johnny as he leans in toward Cass.

She glances at you, then Simon, then back to you before nodding enthusiastically. “We’ll give you two some time *alone*.”

In any other situation, you’d probably beg her to stay in desperation for a conversation buffer. Here and now, though, you’re grateful. You can finally let this poor guy off the hook. You wait until they’re gone; fully out of earshot before turning to the man in front of you.

“I…uh… look…” You chew your lip, glancing between him and your folded hands on the table. “Sorry… I know I’m probably not what, uh, what you expected… I get it if you want to leave. It’s - you don’t have to stay, or whatever. Don’t have to be polite…”

He cocks an eyebrow, eyes boring through your skull. “Why would I want to leave?”

“I know what I look like. You don’t have to be nice.”

His raised brow turns into a slight frown. “I think you’re quite pretty.”

You scoff - blushing despite yourself. “Again, you don’t have to be nice.”

“Do I seem like the type to just be nice?”

You continue to gnaw at your lip. He’s got you there. Simon definietly doesn’t come off as the type to bow to polite society. “You’ve barely talked to me.”

He stares for a moment. It’s his turn to avert his eyes, swirling around the whiskey in his glass awkwardly. Almost bashfully. “It’s not you. I’m… not great in public… especially in crowds…”

Oh.

*Oh*.

You’ve completely misjudged him, haven’t you? Shit. He’s just a big awkward lug isn’t he?You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Oh God, *I’m* the asshole, aren’t I?”

He chuckles, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I’m sorry it’s just…” you scrub a hand over your face. “Most men don’t really want to be surprised with a fat girl on a blind date. Guess I assumed the worst.”

Simon hums. A low vibration that settles into your bones. He gets up, sliding into the booth side of the table beside you - his massive frame pushing into your space. He smells like spices. Cinnamon and pepper. A little hint of leather and tobacco underneath. It’s heady, and some primal part of your mind wishes you could roll around in it like a dog.

“Some men might like a waifish little thing, that’s their business, but personally…” He leans in, a large hand resting on your wide thigh. “Yeah. I like somethin’ I can get a proper handful of.”

“*Oh*.” You squeak, back stiff. Was that what you saw in Johnny’s face before? Approval?

“‘Ere’s a thought - we go back to mine. S’quiet. Can talk more freely. See where the night goes, hm?”

You smile hesitantly, finally looking up to meet his gaze. It’s honest. Kind. Dark pools of sincerity. It’s against your better judgement. Impractical. Out of character. Even so, you allow yourself to surrender with a warmth in your cheeks and a small nod.

“I’ll get an Uber.” He pulls out his phone, tapping away. “Five minutes out.”

“Want to wait outside?” You offer, nodding toward the front entrance. Simon just nods, following you out close behind. Neither of you say much of anything while you wait, but you watch him out of the corner of your eye. He taps on his leg a few times in much the same way as he did on the table.

He dutifully opens the car door for you, letting you slide in before climbing in beside you, long legs slightly cramped in the small sedan.

“You don’t live on base?” You ask as the Uber drives away from the infamous military housing. You’d been there once or twice - a while ago when you were younger and messier.

“S’too loud.” He shrugs. “Too crowded.”

“Well, at least you’re consistent.” You smile.

Simon hums, resting his hand on your thigh once again. It’s casual, not too high up or too much pressure. Not presumptuous.

“How’d Johnny get you out there in the first place? If you’re so *averse*.” You tilt your head.

He shrugs, “Was supposed to be another Sergeant we work with but I guess he cancelled. No one else was free.”

“Ah, so we’re both last choices, then.”

“Yeah?”

“Made Cass promise me free drinks if I came.”

“Smart girl.” He chuckles, holding out a hand to help you up out of the car upon your arrival. His hand is warm when you take it, and a small part of you feels disappointed when he lets go.

The building is small. Old. All red brick with a thirty year old intercom and an elevator that you’re pretty sure hasn’t been inspected since the place was built. About halfway down the hall, you start to second guess yourself. You don’t know a thing about this guy - you don’t know what’s going to happen as soon as you get on the other side of his door. His weird, bright red door. Wait - why is this whole floor covered in red doors?

“Alright?” He grunts, back turned to you as he wrestles with the lock.

“Uh - why is your floor color themed?”

Simon laughs, wide shoulders shaking with the movement. It’s a low sound, something that vibrates in his chest. Makes you want to press your ear to it, see how it feels. If it will reverberate into your bones as well. “The old lady that owns the building is a bit… unique. Likes to talk about colors and karma and destiny stuff.”

“Ah.” You nod, as if that makes any sense at all. “So you’re red?”

“Apparently.”

His apartment is actually quite homey, as you step into it. From a stiff military man like him you expected something akin to an ikea floor model. Instead it’s furnished with a well worn, green couch. A large TV with an extremely up-to date surround sound system and an entertainment center filled to the brim with CDs sits against the wall. A few movie posters fill the walls. All horror classics - you count three of the scream movies. The first two final destination. There are condensation rings on the coffee table.

Behind you, you hear the door lock and unlock three times, but you don’t pay it much mind.

“Want a drink?” Simon asks, already popping open a decanter full of something gold on a small drink cart beside the kitchen island.

“Sure.” The agreement is automatic - blurted out before you can second guess taking a drink from a total stranger.

You watch a little too closely as he takes off his light jacket, exposing his strong arms and a half sleeve tattoo. It’s a bit tacky, all skulls and military symbols. The black ink has been sun worn over time. The motif of a young getting his first tattoo after enlisting. He settles down on the couch with the decanter and two glasses, patting the spot beside him. You plop down. It’s pretty comfortable, honestly.

His fingers loop into the mask’s straps. You find yourself watching with wide eyes and bated breath as he removes it. His nose is crooked - broken more than a couple times, you think. There’s a scar running from his nose to upper lip that could only come from a cleft palette. It’s charming, in a way. When he turns toward you, you notice a patch on the side of his face that looks like a rather large burn all the way down to his sharp jaw. The roughness of him works, somehow. The scars and tattoos and choppy hair all coming together to create the visage of a life hard lived.

“You’re really pretty…” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them.

Simon splutters out a laugh, the slightest hint of color appearing across his cheeks. “Didn’t take you for a flatterer.”

“I’m not.” You huff before nodding toward the posters. “Horror fan?”

He hums, passing you a glass. “Are you a fan? Of horror, I mean.”

“Found footage!” You grin a little too excited. “It’s the best genre.”

“Terrible taste.” He scoffs.

“Wrong! Found footage can be anything you want it to be - slasher, thriller, mystery, mocumentary. Anything.”

“Which makes them messy.” He argues. “Anyone can make one.”

“Yeah! Theres so many hidden gems out there.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Oh, I’ll put you on them. We just need to get you a good one.”

“Askin’ me on a second date already, love?”

“Oh, fuck off.” You shove at his shoulder. He was right, it is so much easier to talk freely out of the bar. Away from everyone and everything. His posture is far more relaxed, laid back into the couch with his hips canted forward rather than stiff as a board.

“We could watch one now?” He offers. If you were more sober, you might have heard the twinge of pleading in his voice. As it stands you’ve already drained the glass he gave you and are perfectly buzzed enough to be ignorant to the subtler parts of communication.

How convenient.

“Okay.” You whisper.

After a bit of debating back and forth you settle on Hell House. After all, it’s been your tried and true method for getting anyone and everyone into the genre. You don’t notice it, at first, but you slowly begin to scoot closer to him as you fold your knees up on the couch. Eventually, tucking yourself under his arm sling across the back cushions. Between him and the drinks - which you’re pretty sure is a rather fancy bourbon - you feel what could only be described as snuggly. Limbs loose and pliant, smile easy and words flowing as you cheer and jeer at the characters together.

At some point, Simon’s dark eyes meet between yours. You lean in, so does he. Inch by inch until your lips meet. It’s tentative, at first. Testing the waters. His lips are soft and move expertly against yours. You part for him has his tongue darts across your lower lip.

It’s easier than it usually is for you. Easy to let him pull you over his lap. To rest your hands on his broad shoulders as you take each other in. Normally, you’re not a person for one night stands. A commitment kind of gal. You can’t exactly say no, though, when you have a beautiful man’s hands traveling over your body like it’s the only thing in the world worth paying attention to right now.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to grunt, “Bedroom?”

“*Yes*.” You gasp between kisses.

Suddenly those large hands grasp under your ass as you’re hauled up. You grapple to hold onto the back of his neck, keeping your weight forward.

“Simon!”

“Yes, love?” He asks as if he didn’t just life you like a sack of potatoes.

“A-aren't I heavy?” You question as he makes his way through the apartment, peppering kisses over your neck and jaw.

“No.” He replies bluntly. Like what you asked was stupid.

You’re placed on a bed with all the gentleness of a rare china plate- one hand cradling your upper back and the other tucked under your thighs. There isn’t any time to take in the room before Simon is kissing you again but you do count approximately five pillows and zero navy sheets.

That shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

Simon leans in close, nose ever so slightly bumping yours. “Before we keep going, I want to establish a rule. Red light means stop. At any time, for any reason.”

You can’t help but smile. “Okay.”

“Say it back, doll.”

“Red light means stop.” You reach up and cup his face. So handsome. So warm.

“Good girl.” He murmurs. “Let’s get these off, hm?” Simon pulls your clothes off deftly - dragging those rough palms over your skin as he moves and kneading at the plushness of your hips appreciatively.

You reach up to tug at his shirt. “S’not fair if I’m the only one naked.”

Simon chuckles and hastily sits back to yank the shirt over his head, giving a lovely show in the process. You think this what people mean when they talk about an Adonis. There’s a comfortable soft layer of his strong abdomen. Something you want to sink your teeth into. Your fingers trace each dip and curve of his muscles, the lovely shape of his pectorals, the raised scars littering his body. Floral shapes from bullets along with slashes and smaller jabs. A particularly nasty one runs down his side, coving his ribs. A burn, you think.

“You’re beautiful.” You murmur. Definitely out of your fucking league. You move to sit up, reaching for his waistband.

His hand pushes your shoulder back on the bed. “Let me take care of you tonight, bird.”

Your face warms. Simon kisses your cheek, continuing down to your chest and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Gently sucking and nipping at it while flicking the other with his hand. A shameful whimper escapes your throat.

Simon leans up to murmur in your ear, “What do you want, sweet girl?”

“Want you to fuck me…” You murmur, embarrassment making you want to close your legs. His solid hips block you.

“Oh, I will, but first I want those beautiful thighs wrapped around my head.” Simon continues to place kisses down your body, over your stomach, stopping right at your panty line and tracing along it with rough fingers. His arms circle your thighs and in one swift motion your hips teeter on the edge of the bed, Simon kneeling between them. His fingers hook in the waistband of your underwear.

“W-wait…” You sit up on your elbows.

He freezes, looking up at you.

“I, uh, I haven’t exactly *landscaped* in a while… wasn’t really planning-“

Simon huffs out a laugh. “I’m a grown man, love. You think a little bush is gonna scare me off?”

All thoughts related to anything within the proximity of embarrassment come to an instant halt as Simon’s lips wrap around your clit- sucking and nipping and lapping like a man starved. Like he’d die without it. A low groan rumbles through his throat.

“F-fuck!” You gasp, whimpers and moans interrupting any chance you may have at putting words together.

“Taste so fucking good, princess.” He mumbles against you. A shaky moan rattles through you as he pushes a thick finger in, working it gently. His other than grips your hip tightly, pinning you in place. The pet-name sends a shiver down your spine - leaving you rolling your hips and clenching on the finger inside you.

“Fuck, Si…” You gasp, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I can tell your close, baby.” Simon groans. “Cum for me. Come on, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking tongue.”

The bastard knows the power he has in that voice. He *has* to. That baritone gravel sinks in your veins and all you can do is whimper. Panting pathetically the closer you get. His fingers curl up and your back arches harshly as your climax washes over you. Your legs tremble as he works you through it; stopping just shy of pushing you too far.

“Hey!” You gasp indignantly as a jolt shoots up your spine as he settles a final, harsh suck on your clit.

Simon taps your hip, climbing back over you as you scoot up on the bed. He carelessly kicks off his pants as he goes, toeing them off before settling between your legs. Those dark eyes rake over you leisurely - taking in every inch. Every curve and dip and flaw categorically. He sucks in a breath and sighs. “Bloody ‘ell, look at you… so fuckin’ pretty.”

Your face heats and you look away. “Who’s the flatterer now?”

“Not me. Just bein’ honest.” He places a quick kiss to your soft jawline before reaching over to dig through his nightstand drawer. You don’t miss the gold foil of the condom wrapper.

You can’t stop yourself from licking your lips as he pulls off his boxer briefs. Simon is uncut, already ruddy and leaking and just begging for your mouth. Maybe next time, though. He’s already slipped on the condom, carefully hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and the other around his hip. The man has a laser-focus to him, you’ll give him that.

“Still want t’ keep goin’?” He mumbles, eyes locked on his cock as is drags between your folds.

“*Please*.” You whine pathetically. Simon’s chuckle turns into a gasp as he presses in. It’s achingly slow and you roll your hips in demand for more.

Simon lets out a low groan as his hips meet yours. The stretch is perfect - just enough to feel completely full without pushing you too far. As though your bodies were made to slot together just so. Your head falls back, chest heaving as you beg him to move, to fuck you, just *please* for the love of god-

“Needy little thing.” He gives you a sloppy smile before setting a brutal pace. You find yourself clawing at his back, clinging to him as your back arches and the most obscene sounds are systematically torn from your throat. The angle he has your hips placed causes his cock to bully that sensitive spot inside you - dragging over it with every thrust.

Simon leans toward, bracing himself on his forearms and pinning you under him as he fucks into you. “So fuckin’ good f’me. Knew you would be. So soft and sweet and goddamn *pretty*.”

“*Fuck, Simon*.” You gasp, nose bumping against his as your lips intertwine. Breaths and moans intermingle as you both chase that edge. There’s nothing else, in this moment, just you and Simon and the sounds only he has ever managed to pull from you.

Your orgasm hits you like a train. Out of nowhere and all at once, tensing every muscle into a trembling mess as you clamp down around his cock. Simon sinks his teeth into your neck as his own climax takes him, cradling you close and moaning out your name so muddled you almost miss it.

For a few moments, you stay frozen in place trying to catch your breath as you come down. Your limbs feel like jelly when you finally try to move, body limp and pliable. It almost feels like a loss as he pushes off of you, leaving you open and vulnerable to the cool night air while he ties off the condom.

“Be right back.” He murmurs, slowly climbing off you and heading for an attached bathroom off to the left.

You let your eyes slipped closed only to jump and shoot back open as a dap rag drags between your thighs. A little yelp escapes you as the rough material drags across your oversensitive clit. Simon chuckles at you, tossing the rag back somewhere in the bathroom before crawling into the bed beside you. It’s so easy to curl into his chest and let those strong arms encircle you.

“Have fun, love?” Simon murmurs into your hair.

You just hum happily, smiling against his hard chest.

“Good.”

It’s just as easy as the rest of it to fall asleep like that. To seek out the warmth of his body in your satiated haze and press into him, allowing the night and rhythmic beating of his heart to overtake you. You feel four small taps between your shoulder blades just before tipping over the edge into comfortable nothing.

You wake slowly to an empty bed. The light from the window above you streams in - bathing the room in a light golden tone. It’s cozy. The blankets seem to pull you in, keeping you snugly in place. Distantly, you hear the sound of pots and pans clinking.

Shockingly, you’re not hungover. Well, not much at least. There’s a slight twinge in your head and a not unpleasant soreness in your hips. You dig around, finding your clothes strewn across the room haphazardly. Your underwear are nowhere to be found and you eventually give up with a shrug. They weren’t one of your best pairs anyway.

When you come out of the bedroom, you pause. Simon stands in the kitchen, working on something over the stove wearing only a pair of sweatpants. They hang loosely around his hips, showing off the rises and dips of his strong muscles and well defined waist. This scene somehow feels too intimate despite your activities the night before.

“Perfect timing.” Simon turns, placing a plate down on the kitchen island. The omelette before you looks immaculate, all the way down to a light garnish on top.

Your eyes turn to saucers. “You…you made me breakfast?”

“Course.” He nods sharply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if *not* doing so would be some sort of affront. Either you’re still asleep and this is all a dream or you stumbled upon the perfect man through pure happenstance.

He turns the stove off and on and off twice before standing at the counter across from you while you sit on one of the stools at the island. It’s a comfortable silence as you both eat. Simon keeps glancing up at you as if waiting for your disapproval. Boyish, somehow, despite the size and breadth of him.

It’s perfect. The eggs practically melt in your mouth and the goat cheese and vegetables taste fresh. You can’t help but him happily as you eat.

By the time you’re done, you think you might be a little in love.

Maybe you should text Cass and thank her or something. Maybe a gift basket. “Oh. My phone’s dead.”

“Didn’t charge it before y’left last night?” Simon cocks an eyebrow, chewing on his last bite.

You snort. “It was last minute, remember?”

“What if I’d been some sort of psycho? What was your plan?” He grins as he takes your empty plate. If you were a more impulsive woman you may have gone so far as to lick the damn thing.

“Are you a psycho?”

“Not generally, no.”

“Well then, nothing to worry about.” You grin, watching a little too happily as he rinses down the dishes and loads the dishwasher.

Simon just scoffs at you.

You glance at the time above the stove, disappointment settling deep in your chest. “Shit. I should get going.”

“I’ll get you a cab.” Simon offers automatically, reaching for his phone.

You shift side to side, twiddling your thumbs. “Y’know… we never finished the movie…”

Simon cocks and eyebrow. From the pleased smirk on his face you can tell he knows what you’re implying. He still patiently waits for you to say it out loud.

“Would, uh, would you want to exchange numbers? Maybe… meet up… again…?” Your voice is more timid than you’d like. This fear of rejection is new. Being rejected is nothing new for you, so why does it suddenly feel so high stakes with this one guy you barely know?

You don’t miss the way his eyes light up ever so slightly at the question. “I’d love to.”

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mlmxreader · 4 months

Text

Family Loyalty | Alejandro Vargas x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Alejandro

44 “No one’s gonna believe we’re a couple if you’re gonna act like this” ❞

: ̗̀➛ it's a shame that there's so little time that you and Alejandro can actually have together.

: ̗̀➛ swearing, smoking, very mild angst

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

At the best of times, neither you nor Alejandro liked to flaunt your relationship, and neither of you were particularly fond of large gatherings; but as it was winter, and as the new year was approaching, it was only natural that your family and his had arranged for everyone to meet up and to gather at one of the houses.

Neither of you were particularly fond of the idea, but when you found out that your step brother Gaz would be there, you did feel quite a fair bit of relief. You had missed him, and didn't often get the chance to see him due to his job; a Sergeant in the SAS, your brother was away from home more often than not, and with you and Alejandro often being in Los Almas, there was rarely a chance for you and your brother to actually be siblings.

But even you couldn't deny that as much as you loved your family, a large gathering was not something that you were interested in doing. Alejandro was the same, as although he knew that his right-hand man Rodolfo would be there by virtue of being his childhood best friend, he would have preferred to have a small, intimate gathering.

But neither of you could deny your families, and with some hesitation, ended up agreeing to it. Admittedly, Alejandro was a far better actor than you, and could actually pretend that he was happy to be there, whilst you stood beside him and scowled. Your arms folded across your chest as you watched everyone run around and cause havoc.

Stood in the kitchen, you were by Alejandro's side, stood directly opposite Rodolfo and Gaz as you shook your head and wished that the four of you could go somewhere quieter.

"No one's gonna believe we're a couple if you're gonna act like this," Alejandro joked softly, nudging you in the side playfully. "C'mon, amado, lighten up."

You glared at him, looking him up and down as you scoffed. "Ale... don't."

"C'mon," Gaz chided with a grin. "You're scowling so much, your face is gonna freeze like that."

"Might be an improvement," Rodolfo giggled, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You rolled your eyes, huffing as you leaned into Alejandro's side. Immediately, he put his arm around you and allowed you to rest your head on his shoulder as he smiled and laughed under his breath.

"Amado," he hummed, using his free hand to search the pocket of his leather jacket. "Cigarette?"

You nodded, grumbling as you held out your hand; Alejandro dished them out, giving one to you first before handing one to Gaz and Rodolfo each and then keeping one for himself. He passed the lighter around in much the same manner, then leaned forward slightly to see if anyone had noticed. Gaz scoffed.

"My mum's a smoker," he started, "she's not gonna care."

"Our mum might not," you agreed. "But Ale's mum might."

"She won't," Alejandro admitted. "Mi madre doesn't mind."

It didn't take long for Gaz's mother to realise, quickly chastising all four of you for smoking inside before ushering you all out into the front garden; at least it was quiet, and when she gave Gaz a shopping list, he took Rodolfo with him. It was only up the road a little bit, but not by far; they would be gone for ten minutes at least and they told you and Alejandro that they would get some drinks whilst they were up there.

With the air so cold and so icy, though, you quickly found your back against Alejandro's chest as he held you tightly against himself, wrapping his jacket around so that the pockets were at your sides. A vain attempt to keep warm as you continued smoking.

It was a lot nicer than being inside amongst the chaos and the havoc, at least, and you were enjoying the little bit of one on one time that you could have with him; it wasn't often that either of you got it. He was deployed so often thanks to being a Colonel, and you rarely got the chance to see him for very long when he had breaks.

Paperwork became mountains within days, and even worse than that, he was often asked to advise other regiments on certain matters that he couldn't discuss with you. It was difficult sometimes, and you did often miss him terribly when he wasn't around, but you knew that you chose it when you agreed to marry him.

You knew the nature of his work just as much as you knew the nature of the man you had married, and nothing would change that. Alejandro loved you dearly, of course he did, and he always did his best to do right by you and to look after you.

But even he found it difficult with the long distances and the frequent disappearances; he wanted to be with you, to actually be your husband without there being any interruptions, but it seemed like that just wouldn't happen.

He couldn't even get his forty-second birthday off two months ago, let alone be able to spend it with you the way that he wanted to; he rarely even got your birthday off, let alone his own. But it was just the nature of his job, and there was nothing he could do to change it even though he wished he could.

"I've missed you," he admitted quietly against your ear. "I really have."

"I know," you hummed. "It's a shame that we only ever get time like this when everyone else seems to want our attention."

Alejandro nodded, tugging you a little closer as he swallowed thickly. "But little time is better than none."

"True," you agreed quietly, turning around so that you could look into his big brown eyes. "Maybe one day we'll have enough time."

"Hopefully," he gently traced your jaw, daring to grin. "Do you wanna go inside and get to the quiche before Gaz?"

"Absolutely," you laughed as you grinned back at him. "And the tinnies."

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cloudofbutterflies92 · 3 months

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Do you think I have forgotten about you?

Ghost x f!OC Angst/fluff

Thank you @cassietrn for this request💕, I hope I have met your expectations. This au is a bit inspired by Fatal Frame, one of my favorite games and a bit of mine and is set in 1920(so I apologize if Ghost is a bit out of character if it bothers some). After that I'll let you read, good luck <3

Tw:Blood and graphic description of violence

Divider by @saradika-graphics

The job was simply: to have to explain the paranormal phenomena inside that mansion and capture them with her camera obscura. The owner had been clear with the woman: "Drive that idiot away or I will lose my money."

Eden had always been passionate about that work; her father had always taught her well. Then at the age of 12 she received her camera, with the power to capture ghosts and seal them forever. She had made a name for herself and now at 28 was one of the most famous ghost hunters in London, but she had never seen anything like it.

Poltergeists, possessions and even the disappearance of several people, and only for one ghost. No one knew his name; most of the time he just called himself Ghost. It sounded like a joke but it was, and she already imagined it would be hard.

"I need to be alone, let no one come in" was Eden's warning, the three men and the woman with her raised their hands and like Pontius Pilate wanted to wash them completely. It was going to be her responsibility.

"You can do it" she stepped firmly enough to flutter her long skirt and the brunette reached the entrance to the mansion.

From the way it was composed it looked like the classic place where a family could spend their quiet days, with that almost manic order. The owner's wife surely wanted to make an impeccable impression with the future buyers of that mansion.

With the camera lens, the young ghost hunter began to capture as many angles as possible, before setting up in the center of the most haunted room: the living room. One of her theories might have been that many of the objects there, bought from some flea market in the Covent Garden area channeled the spiritual energy of whoever possessed it. More than plausible considering that many of the objects present were of Egyptian or Mesopotamian origin.

With salt Eden began to create a seal made in the shape of a pentalfa that could protect her. She had already felt the presence of the 'being.

"Show yourself, I'm not going to do anything to you" in a firm voice Eden called the spirit's attention.

Or rather the glass that almost was smashed against her, leaving a small cut on her cheek.

"Why do you bother these people? They simply want to help you."

A thud followed the female's words, as a kind of earthquake all around Eden began to move.

"Help me? You are just so stupid, these bastards have accomplished heinous things in this place" a mighty, angry voice made the glass of the room vibrate. Eden's fingers were trembling, held tightly around her faithful companion of a thousand adventures.

She swallowed, she could have run away but was now entangled in the situation. The only option seemed to be to make the spirit speak and capture it.

"Atrocious things? Why don't you tell me about them?"

A gust of wind blew out the candles, the house descended into that darkness, so oppressive that it seemed almost as if one struggled to breathe, and it was useless for Eden to try to light another candle.

The crunching of stairs caught her attention, from it a figure emerged, bulky and mighty came within inches of the border of the seal. A skull mask covered his features and a long hooded coat covered the rest of his body. He could have been about 6.4 ft.

But what struck Eden was the 'intensity of his gaze, she had never seen anything make her shiver so much and penetrate her bones.

"Silly ghost hunter, do you really think that ephemeral object can do anything to me?" With only the strength of his hand the creature flung the object away, for the first time in her life Eden was frightened. Scared that she could do nothing. She fell to her knees, reciting the prayer that exorcist had taught her during her stay in Rome a few months earlier. The demon's dark, low laugh seemed to suffer the opposite effect.

"You are fighting against those whom you should not be fighting instead, these people wanted me to enter their house" he lowered his hood, with Eden's blank stare that was helpless. With his finger he commanded her to step out of the circle, and she like a poor lamb stepped out of it, almost as if she must be ready to be sacrificed.

"I want you to be able to see the truth" Ghost laid his hands on the ghost's hunter eyes. Various images of people of all ages, desperate for them not to be sacrificed to that demon. Blood flowed inside those walls, reaching to the feet of Eden, who with her mouth open began to tremble.

"Please stop, I don't want to see anything anymore!"She began to cry, all the pain of those victims was affecting her both physically and spiritually. Unusually mercifully he let go, seeing her and her face wet with tears. What had those horrible people done? Had they used that place as a homeless shelter and sacrificed victims to enrich themselves?

"I have my reasons for this place not to be sold. I was the first victim."

"May I know how you died?" The question seemed ridiculous, but seeing him open up like that maybe Eden could help. The stern, angry gaze of the being did not seem to be of the same opinion, however, grabbing her by the chin. His breath, cold as death went to touch her rosy-colored cheeks.

"I'm not going to tell you a damn thing, you've already seen it all" he then left her, retreating his pace. Eden simply wanted to understand.

"Are you so afraid to talk? So afraid of a human that you don't want to give him reasons why you act this way."

Ghost's hazel eyes soon began to turn crimson red, like the blood of all those victims.

"I am not afraid of you human, get it through your head!Your bullshit doesn't work on me" Pacing back and forth he studied her.

"I" Eden released a tired, somewhat pained breath "just want to help you and all the people who lost their lives here."

A collection of people, of all ages surrounded the two suddenly , in that sort of tornado made of fog. She felt herself being sucked in and was motionless and afraid. She did not know what to do. The demon approached her, taking off the mask he had kept until then to conceal his identity.

"Simon" Eden's heart stopped beating for a 'moment, she could not believe it.

Simon, had her Simon died in that place? They had never found his body after he had said he was going on a trading trip, being the manager of the antique store with Eden, his wife.

"That's why I didn't want to tell you the truth!" at the center of the tornado Simon took her hands, the spirits around them were breaking free, ready to make the owners of that house pay. But what mattered to Eden was that now she knew, her husband was there before her.She would have liked to ask him why.Why him of all people?

Instinctively she closed her eyes, finding herself in a different place--a huge green plain that smelled of melancholy, she looked around.On various hills surrounding the small valley were the spirits of the people who had been saved by that revelation.

"My dear" a voice that smelled of longing called her back, behind her as soon as she turned around was her husband. He was no longer wearing that sort of black suit, no longer possessed by that demon, he was the same man she had married. The one with whom she had built their antique store, her gentle giant.

"I would have wished" she began to tremble, tears flowing "to save you and find your remains."

"Don't blame yourself you don't have" his fingers went to graze the heart-shaped pendant he had given her as an engagement promise, before they were married.

"I'm glad you still wear it."

"How could I take it off? It is an integral part of me. As are you."

Just feeling the contact of her skin against his fingers, reaching then to her brown locks. How could she not have him with her every morning beside her?To smell his aftershave scent as he rubbed her nose against his neck? And the words of love of how lucky he was to have her as his wife?

"Remember," he placed a hand against her chest, his touch definitely calming her, letting him rest his forehead in a relaxed manner against hers.

"You managed to save everyone in that mansion. And you saved me from that demon, you did darling"

That way he pronounced it, Eden knew she had to momentarily say goodbye to him but she didn't want to.Now that she knew the truth about his disappearance she wanted nothing more than to hold him close to her.

"What will I do without you?"

"I will always be with you, I will not leave you. And in the next life I promise I will look for you."

"I won't make it, I can't make it" sobbed the brunette whose tears he wiped away before giving her that kiss, the last carnal kiss before their paths parted. At least in this life.

As Eden watched him walk away to join that procession of souls, Simon from high on that hill looked at her wistfully. He would find her again, in whatever life he would be reborn he would be with her.And she would look for him in the corner, even if it took her centuries to be with him together. Forever.

London, June 1920

Eden was sitting in that garden quietly, newspaper in hand was reading the article "An 'entire family arrested for the' murder of 60 strangers, sacrificed to the god Pazuzu in exchange for wealth and prosperity" read the headline.

After her investigation inside the mansion the brunette, returning home had immediately told the police everything, who investigating had discovered the remains of the victims. Among them were those of Simon, who could now finally rest in peace.

"We did it did you see?" She whispered as she raised her eyes to the sky, it was definitely a sunny and clear day, one of those early June days not so hot and not so cold.Just at the thought that her husband could now rest in peace she smiled, especially thinking of the promise he had made.

From a tree Eden heard cawing, a raven had alighted on a lamppost. That signal was clear to her, Simon was there.

Tag: @chloekistune @graveyard-party666 @alypink @kaitaiga @corvosattano @onehornedbeast @themotherofhorses @alexxmason @carlosoliveiraa @socially-awkward-skeleton @thewanderer-000 @thedeadthree @sinclxirx @simonxriley @marivenah @strangefable @captastra @aceghosts @kikiharinezumi @katsigian @voidika @pvnkesttt @starryylies

"I will always be with you, I will not leave you. And in the next life I promise I will look for you. That's a promise."

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moi5t-fk-fruit · 4 months

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✩ Ghost Fucking You in a Alleyway ☾

Oneshot ⋆⁺Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!Reader⋆⁺

⋆⁺₊⋆ Summary: While trying to avoid shadows, you and Ghost get stuck in between a tight alleyway. And sure Ghost’s gun is hard but not as hard as his dick pressed upon your ass. All your Lieutenant needs is a quickie!

⋆⁺₊⋆ Warning: Pet Names, Dirty Talk, Unprotected p in v, Creampie, Multiple orgasms, Semi Public Sex, Groping, Rough Sex, Praising, Breeding Kink, Gagging, Cummm. NSFW! SMUTTT! After Care? :3

⋆⁺₊⋆ A/N: This shouldn’t have taken me so long. Just enjoy plz and thx 4 reading cuties <3 Plz support by reposting ;3

Nsfw below the cut

Imagine…

Ghost and you sneak through houses and alleys, taking down any shadows in your way. Rain splashing with every footstep taken.

“Come here-" Ghost grips your forearm and pushes you against him as he leads you through the allyways.

You follow trying to pick up your feet to his speed.

Feeling your back on his armed chest as he tries to keep you close to him. He slows down and lowers his head close to your ear, you can feel yourself almost trip when his hot breath is on your bare neck.

“Trying to find somewhere secure. There's too many of them. Better to wait it out.“ he whispers close so only you can hear him. As you’re still trying to comprehend the situation, he brings you both to a stop and slides into a narrow alley.

He waves you over and you both try to get deeper where the street lights won’t expose you.

Running on adrenaline you both didn’t realize the alleys becoming tighter. Only when it was too late and you shuffle against him.

“No stop-“ he breaths out, you’re pinned against him and can feel him all around you.

“Fuck m’sorry sir.” you’re more than embarrassed, your hands are in front of you on the bricked wall.

“Just stay still.”

“Can’t stay still. Your so-hard against me-“

“What?” You can sense his eyebrows curling and even his lips forming a smirk but it quickly vanishes as your embarrassment got the best of you. You began to arch away from him and shuffle off of him.

“Y/n stop” He almost growls out. You ignore and try again, this time he’s had enough and his gloved hands grip the sides of your waist. Though the timing could’ve never been worse.

As he pushes you down you accidentally grind onto him, assuming the hardness on your ass to be a gun. Letting out a cut whine of discomfort.

Out of your sight, Ghosts head shoots back to the wall behind him, biting his lip to the point where blood could be drawn. Keeping quite.

“You mind moving your fucking gun lieutenant.” You stutter out.

“That’s not my fuck’n gun sergeant.”

His voice is somehow deeper and his accent thicker than you’ve ever heard, he’s desperate.

He’s hands are still on your waist as your eyes widen due to feeling the large imprint of his crouch on your ass. If your cunt wasn’t already wet from him being all over you, it’s soaked now. He lets his head fall to the crook of your neck. Your bodies fuming together. In defeat you let your head fall to his chest you can now see his balaclava and skull mask, his eyes are shut.

“Told you to keep still.”

Silence falls, you look up to the starry night. The storm now soaking you both more, feeling rain droplets fall on your face. Ghost focuses on your breathing and his hands that still grip on your waist loosen. Not wanting his gloved hands to leave your body you grab them, moving them lower to create a space in between the warmth your thighs. Your eyes flutter as he leads himself, his large hands squeeze and kneed your inner thighs. You turn your head close to his ear. Softly praising him to continue, he boldly moves his hand towards your clothed cunt and gropes you, you whimper and arch into his hand. He also turns his head to face you, admiring your slightly illuminated scrunched features as the pleasure gets to you. Ghost shuts his eyes when he grinds his dick against your ass again, much rougher, his lips parting open from the friction. You moan into his covered parted lips.

“Tha’s it. Jus like that pretty girl.”

He kisses you, it’s sloppy and full of hunger. You begin to kiss him back and his balaclava becomes wetter with the rain and the way both of your saliva starts mixing. He groans softly when you catch his bottom lip in between your teeth through his mask. Detaching after a slow tug.

“How about we speed this up-huh pet?" His other hand taking a hold of your throat and giving it a squeeze. You nod and with your own hands you unbuckle your cargo pants. Ghost takes his hands off your body and helps by pulling your pants down, below your ass. A short hiss leaving you as you feel the coldness of the night.

"Been wearing these along. Who could've known you were such a slut on the battle field." He says while soothing your cunt through your laced panties, his thumb applying pressure to your clit.

"Wear'em for you"

"Really?" He lets out a low cold chuckle, sliding your panties down to your pants. Moaning when he gives your ass a squeeze.

"hands on the wall sergeant"

You obey and hear him unbuckling his own pants, listening to him groaning when pumps his shaft a few times before tapping his wet tip on your cheeks. Ghost lifts you and slides his dick back and forth through your wet folds, feeling the girth and length as he humps you from behind.

“You okay with this doll? You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes. I want it, please Ghost-”

“Fuck’n hell. You’re going to be the end of me.”

Ghost slides the tip of his dick to your entrance and slowly lets himself in and out. Your mouth agape and his hot breath bleeding through his mask into the cold air of the night. Thinking of the sight someone could catch you both in. Bent over and holding yourself against a bricked wall, the storm coving the lewd sounds carried with heavy breathing while your lieutenant fucks you from behind.

You both holding in the satisfaction of him inside you but failing as he slides his tip back out of you and slams his lengthy dick fully into your pussy. His heavy balls making contact with your ass and a splash occurring with the rain. Your loud moan cut out from Ghost coving your mouth with his gloved hands.

“Let’s keep those pretty moans for my ears only. Don’t want the whole city knowing I’m fucking you like this.”

Ghost continues fucking you, his dick deep inside your pussy, his balls splashing and hitting your ass with every thrust. You can feeling yourself at the edge of your climax.

“Need to cum Ghost- can’t go any longer…”

“Come on then pretty girl. Cum all over my cock, need to feel that fuck’n cunt tighten.”

He fucks you harder, until you moan ‘Ghost’ out, loud enough for him to take one of his gloves off and shove into your mouth. You cum hard onto his cock, tensing when tasting the metallic in your mouth as you whine into the his glove. Ghost shutters behind you, his cock twitching inside you as your walls tighten and your juices cover him.

“Gonna let me come inside you doll?”

You gag on the glove and he takes it out.

“Please Lieutenant, I need you.”

Ghost groans in the crook of your neck.

“Want me to breed your pretty pussy badly, huh-doll?”

“Yes-!”

You’re cut off with a hard slap on your ass and Ghost’s thrusting becomes unrhythmic. You listen to his hushed moans and heavy breaths as he stuffs his balls on your ass and coats your walls with his seed. You whimper from the feeling of his cock pulsing.

“Good girl, take it all in for your lieutenant.” Ghost continues riding out his high and doesn’t stop thrusting into you. He pulls your head back to see your face, only to find you practically drooling.

“You’ve gone cock dumb sergeant.” He chuckles and slows down, his cock softens inside you. Wiping away the drool with his one glove. He takes a hold of your chin as you both lock eye contact. From just the sight of him, your eyes shut and you cum on his soft dick. Ghost praises you through your second orgasm. You both feel the mix of cum dripping from your pussy down his shaft, undoubtedly staining Ghost’s pants. He groans while he pulls out carefully and you whimper from discomfort.

“You alright love?” He holds you, taking your now rough and wet hands off the wall, he begins to slowly massage them with his own calist hands. Until their back to their soft form inwhich he loves.

“Yes sir” You give him a warm smile that makes his pulse quicken. You rest your head back on his chest and begin lifting your pants up.

“Let me take care of you love-” You blush harder as he calls you that again. “-promise I’ll get you properly cleaned.” He slides your now drenched panties back up and pants. Buckling your belt for you, adjusting to the right fit. With the space you have you lean forward for him to slide his briefs back around his waist and pants. Giggling quietly when you hear him trying to rub off the cum that got on his pants with the rain. He wished you could see the smile that spreads on his face as he listens to your sweet giggles.

“We should get going y/n.” You hum, remembering where you really are. He helps you shuffle off him, trying to avoid anymore physical contact. You both begin to retrace your steps, now knowing the shadows are far gone. The street lights becoming more visible.

Before you get your gun out and focus back on the task at hand, you’re halted by Ghost turning you over to face him. He traps you against the cold wall with his large arms. You look up to him. Rain droplets failing from his skull mask and helmet. His eyes not leaving yours.

“Lieutenant?”

He detaches his skull mask and slowly lifts his balaclava up to his nose. Revealing the bottom half of his face. You observe his stubbled beard and slightly chapped lips, scars scattered around his face, one larger one extending across his lips. He looks down to your lips and his hands find the sides of your head. Ghost smashes his lips with yours. You both finding pleasure with his controlling mouth. Though he backs up and slides his balaclava back down, along with attaching his skull mask on.

“Let’s finish this mission and continue this later eh-sergeant?”

“Yes Lieutenant-”

“Atta girl.”

#simon riley x you #cod smut #cod mw2 #call of duty #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon riley #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #call of duty smut #simon riley smut #cod one shot #call of duty mw2 #oneshot

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callsign-coolsquirrel · 2 months

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Roaches first mission

that mission in brazil sucks so bad but the content is so worth it

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soapybutt17 · 8 months

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Night Showers

Summary: A shower, a missing condom, and Soap doing his best to get on his Captain's nerves (the 20 laps around the entire base was worth it). Character: John Price x F!Wife!Reader. Simon "Ghost" Riley. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick. John "Soap" MacTavish. Word Count: 2,168 Chapter Warnings: Smut. Unprotected Penetration. Creampies. P in V. Oral Sex (F receiving). Alternate Universe. Soap just being a little shit for the giggles and all. Unedited as usual. A/N: To the anon that sent me the request, this is for you. I just can't get this idea out of my head and it shows.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist || Request are Open

One of the few perks of being part of the upper ranks were the privilege of having your own time to bathe. But unlike other assholes that prefer being in first, you preferred to be the last one to step foot in the communal showers. You prefer taking your time, lathering yourself up to the perfect suds and savoring every single minute of the cold water against your skin.

You preferred your privacy as much as the next person and practically living in the base, you don’t get that privilege as often as you want unless you were here. It was ironic seeing it was a communal space and there was an off chance another female member of the base would slip back in but it was rare especially at this time of the night where you were certain almost everyone aside from the people on watch duty were fast asleep.

The frigid cold water would have woken you up but the longer you stood in the water, the more did you feel the weight of the day get to you and you were close to falling asleep from where you stood. You were close to ready to finally get to bed and sleep before the following day of drills.

You felt a hand before you realize it and instincts had equipped you to act fast and hit whoever was ballsy enough to touch you. But it seems your husband was faster than you as he held onto your fisted hand. A smirk playing on his lips for catching you off guard.

“You’re not supposed to be here.” You whispered screamed at him at this point. The panic of someone possibly entering immediately crossed your mind and the possibility of either of you (mostly him) getting in trouble for being in the same shower together.

“Locked the door on my way in if that’s what you’re worried about, Love.” He smirked and only now did you come to realize that he was butt naked just as much as you.

You felt the heat on your cheeks at the realization. It’s been far too long since you’ve had even a semblance of intimacy with your husband. With mission and reports constantly pulling the both of you apart, having him so close to you now only brought the much deprived need in you to come back full force for him to see.

“Fucking hell, cold as ice.” He muttered as the water has finally hit his skin.

Your eyes gazed at the bear of a man you had the privilege of calling your husband. The way the water slither against his hairy chest and down to his happy trail all the pent up desire has come and you did not know if you had the mental fortitude to resist him at this point.

“Seein’ something you like, Love?” He teased, his watercolor eyes gazing down at you as he caught you staring.

“Very.” You quipped turning back to the waters to wash away the last of the suds that was still covering your skin. “But I think you already know that by now.” You muttered looking over your shoulder to look down at his manhood alive and awake you to see.

“Most definitely.” He chuckled, his arms found their way around your waist, pulling you further into his torso, his manhood pressing against your back in the process. “And you could feel it right now.”

“John…” You warned. You’ve had far too many close calls with the man in the past, had it not been for everyone’s lack of idea about what was going on between the both of you, you both would have been caught in one too many compromising situation.

“I’m doing nothing, Love.” He chuckled, his hand slowly creeping from your stomach up towards the swells of your breast giving a gentle squeeze before one hand rested against the columns of your neck and the other holding onto your jaws to keep you in place. “Nothing at all.” He purred, lips finding their place against where your neck and shoulders met.

“John not here.” You warned him again, the fact that the doors to the showers were locked did not reassure you at all. You still fear the possibility that someone had seen you then seen your husband walk inside in the middle of the night.

“Where then? Name a time and place.” He propositioned.

“Your room, after you shower.” You finally relent knowing that when your husband was in the mood just as much as you were, nothing would stop him from having you.

“Deal.” He turned your head until your lips met his own in a searing kiss that drowned you more than the water that showered above you both.

Your hand found their way against his wet beard, trying and failing to control his kiss, savoring the first of many kisses he was more than willing to give you for the rest of the night.

Fuck Protocol. Fuck Reputation. You will be fucked and you will make the most out of it.

“I’ll meet you naked on your bed.” He practically commanded you now as he pulled away. Any other time you would have made the protest of him giving him orders the way that he did but you truly didn’t care at this point.

Nodding, you pulled away from his hold. The coldness of his absent touch did more damage than the water ever could. Without even looking back, you had toweled dried yourself and put on your clothes—ignoring the fact that it was your dirtied ones. You’re going to be naked once you’re back in bed anyways and made your way out of the showers and making sure to lock the door behind you in the process.

“God fucking damnit.”

With shaking legs, you peered down at your husband post-orgasm from between your legs as he began searching through his discarded pants. A few choice words escaped his lips as he continued on with his search. It was so unlike the Captain to be this antsy but it was given in the situation at hand.

“What?” You asked, dazed still from your release with just his mouth. You felt the ache on your lips from biting too hard and trying and somewhat failing to keep your moans and whimpers to a minimum.

“Condom.” He practically growled as he began to look around his room.

You blinked as his frustration was now in full force as he began to look around his room for another spare but no luck whatsoever.

“Just fuck me, John.” You whimpered, hand somehow finding their way towards your still too sensitive bud. Keeping yourself sated while you waited.

“But…”

“I’m on my pills, just fuck me already.” You were now practically demanding him at this point. “Please.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice as he dove right on top of you. Slotting himself in between your legs. He pulled you in for another searing kiss. Your arms and legs had immediately wrapped around him, urging him to finally fuck you but he was taking his sweet time—a time neither of you truly had with the night slowly fading into daylight.

“A fucking little menace you are, aren’t you?” He teased, grinding his pelvic bone against your nub. “Just so desperate for me are you?” He questioned, voice growling louder and instincts kicked in as you slapped your hand towards his mouth to quiet him down.

He did not like it one bit as he held both of your hands above your head.

“Did I fucking tell you to touch me, Pet?” He growled against your ears.

“John—you need to be quiet.” You whispered struggling to free from his hold.

“You don’t get to make orders here, Lieutenant.” He whispered against your ears, nipping at your lobe before his lips lingered against your cheeks and finding their way towards your lips but not truly kissing you. “Is that clear?”

“Yes.” You whimpered as his hips dug further into your core.

“Yes what, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, Captain.” You squealed as he finally slipped right into you.

The aching sting even with him preparing you lingered through your entire body. It was always a task in on itself as he held onto you. One hand held onto your own up above your head and the other held onto your leg and pulling it up as high as you physically could.

“Bloody fucking hell.” He groaned. “Fucking tight.” He muttered.

Without another word, his moved his hips, a gruelingly slow but deep pace that had you gasping at each piston. Your legs held onto his waist for dear life and your teeth bit against your lips stopping from any noise from escaping.

You watched all the control leave from your husband’s body as his thrust had gotten sloppy.

“Please…” You pleaded, even when you truly didn’t know what you were even begging for right now. “Please. Please. Please.”

You felt it before you realize what was going on, the spurts painted your insides and the mind numbing shiver that wrecked from your toes up to your head. You moaned, louder than you would have wanted it to be but your husband was quick to silence you with his lips. Pulling you into him, swallowing every moans and every whimper as he continued on with thrusting inside of you.

Finally, your husband had let go of your hands, you winced as blood began flowing right back and the familiar tingling sensation seeped through. He pulled away, looking down at you in the all too familiar adoration that you felt the same for him. You were sated, blissed and thoroughly satisfied from the longing you felt for your husband.

“Are you broken?” John inquired.

A playful smile rested on your face, the context that it was a question he often asked after any of his team were put in a bad spot. It was his own little way of asking anyone and everyone if they were alright.

“Split open, but I’ll survive.” You respond,

He smiled, chuckling at your antics. Before a flip has switch and his hand held onto you pulling you up and turning you until you were on your hands and knees. Without even missing a beat or even allowing you to say anything, he plunged himself right back into you.

“Good.” He chuckled leaning close to your ears. “There’s still more where that came from.”

Breakfast in the mess hall was boring and you preferred it that way. Enjoying your tea and toast and jam in the peace of the table you shared with John, Gaz, and Simon was all you could ask for after the grueling night you had with your husband.

Even from the frequent sips of his coffee, you know he was just trying his best to hide the smirk playing on his face. Last night had been a blur after the third round for you. When your husband was on a mission, nothing could truly stop him from taking what he wants and what he needed from you, you were all the more willing to give it to him if he needed it.

But with that being said, you also knew the consequences of your actions. The ache between your legs and the sore throat you were nursing with your ginger tea. There was also the array of hickeys and bruises that painted your entire body and you did your best to hide as much as possible even in the sweltering heat.

The next time you would even think about sleeping with your husband is when you’re both done with your deployment. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Aye Price!”

You winced, the peace of your own filthy thoughts of last night was ruined by Soap’s booming voice taking most of everyone’s attention (some already used to his morning antics, decided to just ignore him). You looked up towards the Scot and paled at the all too familiar foil packet in his grasp.

“Saw this in front of your room last night. Hope the lucky lady you had in your room was fine being raw dogged for the night.”

You could feel the fury boil from where you sat. You had noticed both Simon and Gaz strategically move a little farther away from where the Captain sat but they had an all good view of the man as he stood and ordered Soap to run the entire base twenty times.

It pissed John even more was the fact that Soap wasn’t all that afraid with his punishment, cackling as he skipped out of the mess hall, the condom still in his hand for everyone to see. Soap would truly not let him live this down.

His eyes slowly turned to you and this time it was you who was trying your best to hide the smile as you took another generous sip of your tea.

The consequence of his own actions it seems.

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