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lazybutsmexy · 1 year

Text

Bird hunting

Ghost x fem!reader x Soap

Chapter 11: Canary

Ch. 10 < Series Masterlist > Ch. 12

Warning: character death, graphic description of injuries, cursing.

Summary: A reunion and an apology.

Do not read this work if you're ander 18. This work contains mature and triggering themes.

Word count: 2300~

The sound of the running water has always been comforting to Canary. It never failed to lull her into a sense of relaxation. Granted, the low adrenaline and the blood loss were also aiding her weakened state. At any other point, she would’ve felt anxious, but there was nothing she could really do at this point. She had already tried to get up, and barely managed to make herself dizzier. Her body kept shivering due to the cold, and she guessed she was about to break into a fever anytime now.

However, she knew now that Ghost was close, and Soap was likely with him. They must have found out where she was, and it would be only a matter of time until they realized she was in the forest. She knew they wouldn’t leave without her. No one fights alone. No one is left behind. She only needed to keep herself awake and press down on her wound until they found her.

She reminisced of a childhood with her grandparents, cooling off during the summer by jumping in the pond, and weekend trips to the river to go fishing. One time, her grandmother had taken her hiking in the mountains in search of blueberries, and they ran into a stream - just like this one. But as they looked towards the other shore, they saw a fox mom and two kits. The mom was drinking water from the stream and the kits were bouncing around, squeaking like fluffy, jumpy toys.

There was a rustle of leaves coming from the opposite shore, and Canary snapped back into the present. She combed the shore with her eyes, hoping to see the familiar skull mask or a mohawk, but instead she saw a figure getting closer to the shore, a bit wobbly and heaving for air.

When Alan finally made it into the clear, her blood froze in her veins. How was he even alive? She was almost certain she had stabbed him in the chest, but in her enraged and adrenaline-fueled frenzy, she may have missed his heart just so. She cursed herself for not further checking if he was truly dead before running from the cabin, though she had to concede that she was not in the same mental state as she usually was in the battlefield. It was not the time to try and analyze her actions, though.

She silently watched him from behind the bushes, as he drawed his eyes carefully along the shore, until he stopped right at the place she had crossed. She followed his gaze and cursed, her heart drumming wildly against her ribcage - he found her footprints in the mud.

Alan approached the trace slowly, his left arm hung limp by his side, covered in blood from the shoulder, and in his right hand he held the gun. He stopped and studied the mud, following with his gaze an imaginary trace to the other side of the stream. Canary held her breath as she saw his eyes light up and he found the continuation of the footprints on her side of the shore.

Although she wasn’t wearing any camo, her running clothes were dark enough to be hidden in the shadows of the forest. If she stayed still, he might look past her. It was no more than wishful thinking though, as Alan raised his right arm, and shakily aimed in her general direction. His crazed, bloodshot eyes were wide open, and his face vaguely resembled one of those japanese demon masks that Oni had given her as a gift and now hung on her living room wall, only much paler from his own blood loss.

She waited for him to shoot at any random direction - maybe even her head -, but instead he stepped into the stream. His steps were slow, almost robotic, and Canary had to remind herself to breathe as every step brought him closer to her. Suddenly, a distant call reached her ears:

“Canary!”

Soap’s voice traveled through the forest and into her ears, washing over her entire body like a cool shower on a hot summer day. Canary opened her mouth to call back, but shut it quickly and bit her lip - if she made the littlest noise, Alan would find her, and he was already here unlike Soap. She began brainstorming for a way to get their attention, her thoughts growing frenzy and more muddled the further Alan got into the water. As he was about to reach the middle of the current, he stopped, a demonic smirk spreading through his lips like poison ivy.

“There you are,” he sneered, and fired the gun.

~~~~~~~

“...So, why do they call you Canary?” Gaz inquired as the post-mission lull fell upon the team as they waited in a safehouse for extraction.

Canary blinked and let a small, playful grin stretch her lips. “Well…”

~~~~~~

As the bullet whistled past her, narrowly missing her shoulder, she braced herself closer to the large tree beside her to use it as a shield.

There was no point in hiding now, she thought with a grimace, they must’ve heard the gunshot.

She gulped down what little saliva she could muster and thought of how to let them know she was still there, waiting for them. She remembered how her voice failed her when she tried to call for Ghost earlier, and decided that it wouldn’t be much different now.

Instead, she wet her lips and took a deep breath, filling her lungs until it hurt to do so and her sight grew hazy from the pain, and let it out in a clear, high-pitched whistle.

~~~~~~

“Canary!” Soap called again, his eyes searching into the forage for any sign of movement. Both him and Ghost knew that, if Canary was being chased by the other man, she probably wouldn’t give away her position, but it would assure her that they were there, about to find her. He looked to his three, finding Ghost sweeping the greenery through the scope. Gaz was on his nine, while Price had chosen to search through the road just in case.

Just as he opened his mouth to call for Canary again, they heard the gunshot. No words needed to be exchanged, as they rushed in its direction. Cold sweat ran down Soap’s back as the thin branches hit his face in his race towards the gunshot.

They were so close, so close. It couldn’t, it wouldn’t end like this when they were this close to Canary.

Abruptly, as bright as the first star in the evening skies, a clear whistle rang through the forest, and both Soap and Ghost knew exactly who it belonged to. Their hearts filled with euphoria as they cleared the distance to the stream, and they saw from the distance a man standing in the middle of the water, his gun pointed to the other side as he shot it once more.

~~~~~~

The second bullet ricocheted on the tree trunk, and Alan resumed his march across the stream. But as he took another step, a searing pain exploded in the back of his leg, making it buckle into the freezing water. Looking at the back of his leg for the origin of the pain, he saw the hilt of a knife sticking out. And as he turned his face to see where it came from, a large shadow with the face of the grim reaper engulfed him

Alan barely had time to gasp in surprise when a gloved hand clutched his throat and dunk him in the icy water. He struggled to keep the air in his lungs as the shock from the cold took hold of his body, but the grip on his throat was so strong that no air would be let in or out anyway.

In a desperate attempt to shrug off the massive and increasing weight on his windpipe, Alan raised his gun, but managed nothing as another knife was stabbed between his ribs. He realized in terror that the air was escaping him, and felt the icy water invade his lung from the open wound.

As his mouth fell open in a gargled scream, the darkness invaded his sight from the corners, the face of the grim reaper being the last thing he would ever see.

~~~~~~

Ghost retrieved his knife from the ribs of the man beneath him, and watched as life faded from his terrified eyes. He secretly wished he had had more time to make the bastard pay for what they did to Canary, but this was just as good.

He looked up from the corpse and saw that Soap had finished crossing the stream and was now approaching Canary, and he jumped to his feet to follow him.

Canary stared at Soap’s figure with half-lidded eyes, her breathing growing heavier by the second. The whistle she made earlier had taken all but a portion of the oxygen in her lungs, and she was having a hard time getting it back. Still, a relieved smile lightened up her features, and she raised a shaky hand to meet him.

“J-Johnny,” she panted the moment her fingers met his, “s-sorry about t-the hoodie,” she wanted to say more but was interrupted by soft lips pressing against hers in an urgent, desperate kiss.

Although it was short-lived, it didn’t fail to leave her dazed and wanting more, with warmth spreading to her cheeks as their eyes met.

“Fuck, Tweetie, y’know there are plenty of those for you to steal whenever,” he couldn’t help but grin as his hands engulfed her cheeks, before his eyes roamed down her body to check her injuries, and his features fell into a frown. “Alright, bonnie, let me check these,” his hand inched closer to her bandages, and she whimpered in pain at the touch, her head falling back limply against the tree.

From a distance, they could hear Gaz calling into his radio, and the sloshing water as Ghost ran towards them.

“I-... I lost a lot of blood,” she groaned, and her face paled again much to Soap’s desperation. He pulled away the bandages just as Ghost joined them, and kept himself from gasping at the state of her wound. Simon just made it to their side and Canary’s head lolled to the side to watch him, sending him a sleepy smile.

“I knew you’d come,” she whispered as he got closer. His eyes crinkled in a smile as he held her cold hand, pressing a kiss on it through the fabric of the balaclava.

“Of course I would,” he exhaled, trying not to make the knot in his throat choke him up, “I’ve waited two bloody months to see you again.” Canary smiled through her foggy eyes as a stray tear rolled down her cheek.

Simon wiped it away with his thumb and looked at what Johnny was inspecting. His eyes fell on her wound and inwardly panicked - it was much worse than she’d ever let on. Judging by the state of the bandages and the tremor in her limbs, she were close to being in shock - how she had managed to get this far was beyond them.

The radio crackled and they heard Price’s voice, “Evac is coming, stabilize her for the trip.” Simon’s eyes met Johnny’s and he instantly moved to retrieve clean bandages from his kit as Johnny searched for a stim shot. It would only keep her going for so long, perhaps just enough for her to be loaded onto the heli and into the hands of more capable field doctors.

Canary felt the sharp sting of the stim shot in her leg, and was moved back and forth as her wound was cleaned and the bandages changed. Her tongue felt more numb than before, though, and dark spots began clouding her vision. She knew it would be only a matter of time until she finally fainted.

“I-... I’m sorry,” she whimpered, barely loud enough for the other two to hear. She wasn’t quite sure why she wanted to apologize. Maybe for letting herself be taken like this, when she should’ve been stronger, or maybe for letting herself get this hurt. Perhaps for wanting to spend her medical leave off-base, or for going on that run.

Or maybe, it was for all that together, and more things she couldn’t quite remember at the moment.

She knew Johnny was saying something to her, but she couldn’t quite hear him. The ringing in her ears was too loud. The sounds around her felt like mud.

Her eyes were heavy, just like her chest - it was getting hard to even breathe. A nap sounded nice.

She made a sound where she felt the cold ground on her back - was it pain or relief? She wanted to sleep.

A hand was slapping her cheek. Just a nap, a short one.

The smell of her grandma’s cookies. The vintage sound of 80’s rock albums playing on her grandpa’s record player. Dancing in their living room. She should go and visit their graves before her next mission. She knew her parents didn’t, and would probably refuse to visit hers, too.

The stuttering sound of a helicopter’s blades.

Grandma and Grandpa would visit her grave. Simon and Johnny would, too. They would’ve all gotten along, if they had ever met. Grandpa was born in Manchester, like Simon. Grandma knew how to curse like a Scot because of her own parents. A big, noisy family dinner.

It was pretty dark. Just a short nap. The ringing in her ears was constant now, but slowly fading away.

“Canary, wake up!” Simon sounded scared. Why? She was fine.

Just… Just a nap.

“[Name]! Please!”

A/N: ... I-...

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smutstationchoochoo · 9 months

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Desperate

COD Men x FemReader

Hear me out: a sex pollen fic where reader isn’t affected but he is and he is gone.

Word count: ~3.6k

A/N: It’s just the poorly written sex pollen drabble of my dreams, it’s fuck or die lads. Insert your favorite COD man here. Please forgive me for any spelling/grammar mistakes and my complete lack of knowledge regarding military things, all I know is that these men are hot and I love them.

Warnings: sex pollen, unprotected PIV (wrap it up), overstimulation, dubious consent (consent is sexy folks)

Banner credit: @cafekitsune

You all had been briefed at 0200. The flight to Berlin left at 0300 where the team would be infiltrating a terrorist hideout, a suspected manufacturing site for a new chemical agent. You were told that as long as you didn’t ingest it, you would be fine.

The fact that it had been made airborne was not in the fucking briefing.

The team had been split into pairs, you and he took the North side of the suspected warehouse. The size of it should have tipped you all off. Everything was running smoothly until 3 combatants had come from the door at the end of the corridor. He called for cover and ran ahead. You dropped two before he even got a stride in. The other he disarmed in seconds and then with a deafening crack, both men slammed through a door and into the resulting room. A brief struggle then silence. You heard him start to call the ok, his voice in the comm sounding clearer than earlier, then a noise, a pop, and the sound of air. You froze, watching a gas spill from the open door and dissipate immediately. Just when you started moving again, a growling, “Don’t,” tore through the comm. Then, the sound of ripping Velcro and something hard (his helmet you realized with a sickening drop) hitting the concrete floor echoed out to you. Soft murmurs that grew into angry outbursts of fuck fuck fuck transformed into one that became a groan of what sounded like complete and utter pain. You didn’t even have to think, the severity of the situation settled in. “It’s a gas,” you barked into the comms, “Northside hit, need medevac in 30, going dark.” You waited for confirmation, seconds after getting it and receiving news that the warehouse was almost cleared, you went to find him.

You knew what it did, you all did. Jokes had been made, smirks shared, but you all knew how bad it was. You weren’t even close to prepared. He was sitting against the far wall or rather pressed into it using it to keep his now shaking frame upright, gear strewn around the room, combatant on your immediate left with a mask (his mask, the masks you all were wearing just in fucking case) gripped in a dead hand, an empty canister mockingly sitting in the middle of the room.

You gripped the combatant by his legs and dragged him to the hall, before slamming the door shut upon reentry and grabbing a near chair to jam the door. You immediately began stripping yourself of your outer tactical gear until you both matched in only your boots, pants, and base shirts and then you turned your attention to him. Now kneeling by his side you took him in, looking for any other injuries noting nothing serious. That almost made you laugh with relief until you saw the front of his pants and him frantically palming the growing outline. You swallowed and quickly looked at his face shocked back to the reality of the current situation. The usually stoic, always larger than life, incredibly strong man in front of you was reduced to tears dripping from his now blown and hazy eyes, falling down flushed cheeks and landing on the front of his shirt that clung to his hyperventilating chest. You knew he had been shot, stabbed often, and left for dead a time or two, but this…

Shiny and new neurotoxin, you remembered the brief, attacks the nervous system, causing the mark to feel intense arousal and as if they have been lit on fire, specially formulated not only to cause pain but a complete and utter breakdown of will as victims often experience hallucinations and loss of self. If left in the system, it raises the core temperature until convulsions set in, and then heart attack occurs. Do not touch it.

No one had to ask how it was worked out of the system. Then again, they all believed they were too smart to touch the shit. Couldn’t do much about breathing it in when your mask was ripped from your face though.

Your hand pressed to his slick forehead now radiating heat, and feeling as if it could burn you like an open flame. At the touch of your blessedly cool hand, he hissed a low fuck through his gritted teeth, keening into your touch. You swallowed, hand tilting his cheek to look up at you when you asked, “Can I help?” His hair was sticking up at all angles from the helmet being hastily pulled from his head, and he looked up at you and gave one weak nod, “Please.”

Upon looking at the desperation pooling in those dark eyes (those eyes you often were caught staring at) any small reservations evaporated from your body under his burning gaze. You swiftly reached out, mercifully helping him escape from the now too-tight pants, the bite of his zipper. The moment your skin brushed against the head of him he was bucking up against it. You had to reach the other hand out to steady yourself against his shoulder, another touch that jutted his hips and had him twitching into your grip.

“Is- is this helping?” you croaked out, struggling to swallow, struggling to contain the wave of arousal that was threatening to course through you. He nodded, chin slack against his chest as he watched your hand work against him, moving up and down against the veins seemingly trying to break through his skin. No thoughts went through his mind other than the knowledge that you were jerking him off and that it felt so good that he could cry in relief. But then something shuddered within him, something loud and fast like a wildfire, burning just as much, and hot thick ropes of cum spilled over your hand. He couldn’t even cry out, it happened so fast. His breath was coming out in loud pants, when a new thought, the thought that he had just come in maybe thirty seconds flashed through his mind but it was quickly replaced with the horrible realization that the feeling of being on fire wasn’t going away. It was getting worse, out of control, containment measures failed. At this, he let out a sob as his hips moved of their own volition into your still soothing grip. It wasn’t enough, he knew, you knew, it wasn’t enough.

You stood, and he whimpered at the loss of your touch but all sound stopped in his throat when he watched you decisively unzip your pants and pull them down to your ankles underwear included, kicking off a boot, and one pant leg. When you straddled his lap he desperately pulled you down onto him, your exposed core grinding down where he wanted you, where he fucking needed you, that’s when he began to talk. Begging you to help him, saying that he’s sorry over and over, that he needs your help, incoherent babbling from a breaking mind, please it hurts so bad, I-I don’t, I can’t- fuck, I need you... All cool, calm, collectedness burnt to fucking ash. Just a man reduced to pure longing and want. A longing and want that might be what was threatening to kill him, not the toxin, just the build up over the days, weeks, months he had been around you threatening to crush him. He almost wants to die, this was never how it was supposed to be. He wanted it to be good for you, you deserve that, you deserve better, he could have given you better-

But now what was he? A heaving chest under a sweat soaked shirt beneath eyes that watch you like some feral animal. Hands wanting to claw at the clothing now so heavy, hot, and itchy against his burning skin, but instead were gripping onto your hips like it’s going to save him from burning to a crisp. The broken moans tearing their way from his throat when you line up his painfully hard cock to your entrance makes you throb, and then his choking cry as you slide down on him punches the air from your chest.

“Does this feel ok?” you panted out after a moment, struggling, trying not to drown in the pleasure of him stretching you, filling you. He couldn’t form the words, couldn’t even nod. His forehead falling to your shoulder in utter relief, mouth dropped open as he repeats your name over and over like an apology, a thanks, a goddamned prayer. How all he can do is sit there on the floor of some warehouse, back against a wall, the only thing resembling his usual strength is that ironclad hold he has on your hips as he helps you drag yourself up, then, accompanied by the tortuously obscene sounds of your wetness, back down. Brokenly pleading with you not to stop, don’t stop, fuck p-please don’t stop. You feel like molten heaven against his cock, your moans like angels (or devils, he’s too far gone to care at this point) singing through the blood rushing in his ears. One of your hands again steadies yourself on his shoulder, the other steadying him, an anchor point, with your achingly gentle hold on the nape of his damp neck (so gentle that it breaks his fucking heart, he wanted to give you more, you deserved more) as you ride him. Your hips rock once more, twice more, before his body seizes up with electricity that ricochets up his spinal cord and reverberates through his skull. His fingers dig into the soft skin of your hips, teeth grinding and eyes slamming shut, as he releases inside of you with a shattered cry. The sound of you gasping, now clutching, raking your fingers into him, has his hips continuing their rutting up into you, pushing his cum as deep as he can within your walls.

He stills for 10 seconds at most, panting breaths thunderous between you two, before pulling you into his chest, his hips slamming up into you, hard and hot as if he didn’t just fuck you until he could see every neuron firing behind his eyes. His hot open mouth finds your shocked one in a perfectly surprised “o,” more apologies pushing from his lungs and into yours between loud wet kisses as he listens (is blessed with thank you God) to you beginning to come apart. You couldn’t help it, as you ground down into his thrusts, even though you knew the threatening climax was going to be terrifying. Your breathing was ragged now as well, the air becoming harder and harder to drag into your lungs in between you cursing and moaning, and then- fucking hell- you’re at the precipice. Before you can even utter a syllable you are being flung over the edge. The pleasure rips through you, waves breaking against the rocky shore, with such intensity that it hurts, causing you to dig your nails into his skin, and bright spots to dance behind your closed eyes while the distant feeling of wetness registers from between you two. He explodes again with a gasp, feels you clench around him like a vice, his name, his real name, forcing its way from inside you and into his mouth with every pulse and it tastes so so good that he can’t stop, he never wants to stop, just filling you up until it drips from you, filling you with him because you’re his, his. Even when you both whimper and shudder with overstimulation, his arms shaking in their grip around you, he can only press his forehead to yours, rolling it desperately, as he begs for your forgiveness. I can’t stop, it won’t stop, I’ll make it good, please next time I’ll make it good.

“It is good,” you whisper to him with hitched breath from each thrust, trying to reassure him, “It’s ok, it’s ok.” You don’t know if he can hear you, his eyes are wild and don’t seem to even register that you are actually on top of him, that he’s inside of you, that he has made you yell out his name over and over and over. You don’t think he even knows what he is saying. Next time.

His own voice comes to him from somewhere far away, through the flames licking at his mind, please- fuckin’ hell please, just a little more- I just need one more, I need you, please don’t stop, I don’t want to stop nearly unrecognizable as he comes inside you again and again and again.

It isn’t until the medevac came and he was sedated that what just happened began to sink in. For a week, a fucking week, he’s in critical condition. No one talks about it, at least not in the way you all did before this. You saved him, you’re told. You don’t want to think about it, if you think about it then you think about how good it felt, how fucked it is that it felt good, and how everything is gone. If you think about all he said, you’d overthink, give meaning where there was none. He probably won’t be able to look at you anymore. You went to see him that first day. You sat next to him for mere minutes before bolting, the fear of him waking up and looking at you with disgust, telling you to get out in that icy voice you knew so well, sent you running straight to the mats to train until you wanted to scream. That’s all you did now, and that was where you decided you would stay until you died. That is until someone came and found you, told you he was awake, and that he had asked for you. The whole walk to the infirmary had adrenaline coursing through you, you wanted to run, to fight, to freeze right there in the hall and never move another fucking muscle. The thought of losing him, him being there but not wanting to be near you anymore made you feel sick. It had been so long, so long of repressing those feelings that flared in your chest when he smiled at you during sparring, the feeling of him seated next to you on a flight, his eyes catching yours just so you could stay with him. Well, you thought with dripping ire, that had literally and figuratively been fucked now hadn’t it?

You knocked, heard his gruff voice, and entered. You stopped dead in your tracks three steps into the room after mistakenly looking up and finding him staring at you from where he sat on the edge of the bed, already dressed, looking like he was about to head out on another call. You were desperately trying not to shake but your hands gave you away. You could take on a man twice your size without batting an eye but this?- you were terrified.

The moment you walked into the room, all his time that morning when he first woke thinking about what he would say to you, how he could face you, was knocked from his mind. You had saved his life. He never wanted that. He wanted to give it to you, it was yours after all. He didn’t know when it had become yours, every single part of him, but if he had to wager a guess it was the moment he found you in his life. And it might all be ruined.

The memories had started coming to him immediately after waking up, almost more clear and real now than in the moment. It jolted him awake so hard that the attending ran into the room for fear that his hammering heart had in fact given out. Once his breathing had calmed a little, he tried to sift through the fog. His recall of the smell of you, the arousal dripping from between your legs, mixed with your sweat and the familiar scent of your grapefruit and ginger shampoo, nearly pulled a groan from his chest. The soft touch of your hands, cool and strong against the fire that spread through his blood, had brought him back. The feeling of you breaking, the soft whines, the way you said his name… the things he had said, he couldn’t just shut the fuck up could he?

He had to bring his hands up to cover his eyes, willing the images to go away, just for a moment, please, he just needed some time, if only he had time- next time. Next time, he had told you. A desperate promise, a reassurance, trying to tell you that it wasn’t just the chemical coursing through him, it wasn’t just his hijacked nervous system. Did she know? Did she understand? That’s when he asked for you, without thinking, just wanting to see you, to explain. He had never been good with words unless it was biting sarcasm across comms or coolly delivering ultimatums in an interrogation. Then he remembered, the thing that sent his heart barreling through his chest for the second time, the machine next to him screaming. It is good, you had said, it’s ok, it’s ok, you had whispered.

He ripped the monitors off his chest, ignoring the doctor's protestations, found the clothes that had been brought in for him and got dressed. Now that you were standing here before him he was unsure. You looked scared, and he could count on one hand all the times he had seen you in such a state.

His staring was unnerving, more unnerving than if he had shouted, yelled, grabbed you, anything but this, this was fucking torture. You had to leave, just get off base, go somewhere, anywhere but here- the sudden sound of your name shook you from the reverie. The tone had your eyes finding his immediately.

He stayed seated, scared that if he stood, if he made his way to you, you would run, and you both knew that you were much quicker than him. If you ran, if you left, he would never catch up. Only when his knuckles began to ache did he realize how tightly he was gripping the edge of the mattress in an effort to keep himself there. It was hard to look at you and not remember the way you had looked when you pressed your hand to his forehead, when you had thrown your head back in pleasure, when you had grabbed his face when he was too exhausted to continue but thankfully no longer felt like he was burning alive. It was hard to remember and not stride across the room and hold you. He took a breath and forced his shoulders to relax in a way that he had done so many times before.

“I-,” he started, his voice cutting through the room, his normal voice, the one you recognized as him and it set you slightly at ease from sheer familiarity, “I’m so sorry.” Now he had to turn his eyes downcast.

“What?” Your response, the shock in your voice, forced him to look at you again. Your hands itched at your sides, confusion rippling across your face.

His eyes narrowed, he knew you so well. Always blaming yourself. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, “I’m sorry that happened, I’m sorry you were put in that position,” the word choice made him nearly cringe. He continued, “I never-I didn’t want it to happen that way.”

Your brain jolted, standing there in shocked silence, his words thundering through your ears accompanied by the pleading of next time.

He pressed on, desperately trying, “I know you, you’re going to think this was your fault. It wasn’t. There was nothing either of us could do, thank you for your, uh, help. Just- fuck, please just say some-,”

Shock still swept through you, the words escaped your mouth before you could think, “Did you mean it?” You figured by the way he leaned back that he knew what you were talking about. Then he held out a hand, palm up, an offering. Before you knew it, you had crossed the room, putting your hand in his and letting it gently pull you between his legs. His giant frame meant even sitting on the gurney that his gaze was level with yours, and those eyes searched your own when one word sounded through the room.

“Yes.”

This word broke you. One fucking word, one word that answered every glance between you two, every smile shared, a word you brokenly whispered into the night when you had a hand between your legs thinking about him knowing you shouldn’t. You hadn’t cried all week, but now the giant tears rolling down your cheeks felt like a release. When his free hand, warm and rough, swiped them away you couldn’t help leaning into it, just as he had done. All tension, all fear, dissipated from the room. That hand continued to just below your ear, cupping your neck, and gently pulling you forward to press his head against yours, eyes shutting, just resting there against each other in the moment.

“What the fuck are we gonna do?” you sighed.

You could feel the smirk that you knew was slipping across his mouth.

“Well, I did say next time.”

This time when you rode him with the small bed creaking beneath the movements, he stopped you any time you tried to speed up (it was your turn to beg and plead), keeping you at a languid torturous pace. That way the bastard had all the time in the world to whisper into your mouth, letting you taste each word, all the things he would do to you next time and all the times after that.

Thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think! :)

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miniwheat77 · 9 months

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Triple Threat. (Keegan, König, & Ghost X Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, unprotected p in v sex, double penetration, Sex Pollen, drugs, death, violence, poorly translated German, (sorry if I missed any.)

It’s been a long day.

You’ve been walking for miles behind the trio of masked men. You aren’t even sure why you were sent on this mission, considering the three men in front of you were the strongest. Physically and Mentally. They’re all skilled, more skilled than you’ll ever be. But you obey orders and even though you’re pointless to be here, you’re still enjoying yourself. König thought you’d be useful, you can’t argue there.

You’re lagging behind a bit, listening to everything going on. You’ve got a clear idea of how this mission is supposed to go. Capture the target, see what he knows, leave no survivors.

After a couple bomb threats from this person with the target of the base you all stayed on, you had no choice but to do this. You were getting too close to his operation and he was getting desperate. Which means whatever he has going on, is not good. You’d been walking a few miles, it’s where you were dropped off. You were closing in on the building he was in. It was all dense jungle around it. Nowhere to run.

As you approached the building, you noticed quite a few men outside. They were loading up a truck with crates of something. None of you had any kind of idea what it could be. “Keegan and Ghost, you two go ahead. You’re the quietest.” You nod. They give you nods of their own before splitting off into their own directions. “I’m going to go around, see if I can’t get a clear shot of some on the other side.” You mumble to König. He tilts his head. “Be safe, schatz.” You smile, “always.”

You make your way around, not having any idea of what awaits you ahead.

König watches through his scope, not sure why he’s out here when he did better with close combat, but nevertheless he kept quiet and stayed hidden. He watched Ghost and Keegan zero in.

“Y/N, how’s it looking?” He says into his radio.

He receives nothing but silence.

“Y/N? Do you copy?”

After another few minutes of silence, he begins to panic.

“Y/N isn’t responding, she circled around to get a better view, verrücktes Mädchen.” He mumbles the rest as he releases the button on his radio. “Shit. We have to get inside.” Ghost calls back.

“Keegan, do you copy?”

Ghost calls.

Goosebumps rise on his skin when he gets nothing in return. He’s breathing hard, resting up against a door. “Keegan?” He asks again. He sighs. “König. Keegan isn’t answering either.”

He takes in a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He’s surprised when König doesn’t call back.

“König?”

Silence.

“God damnit.“ he breathes, taken by surprise when a dart is being shot into his neck. “What the f-“

That’s the last he remembers.

Slowly, one by one, they’re waking up. They’re on their knees with their hands tied behind their backs. They’ve killed most of the threats, but there’s still one. “Rise and shine.” He smiles. Their vision is blurry but they can hear you whimpering. When they fully register what’s going on, they start to panic. You’re strapped to a chair, fully naked. You’ve got a cloth tied around your mouth. “What the fuck is going on?” Keegan yells. “Ah, so you can talk.” The man smiles. He’s breathing hard, fighting against his restraints. He runs a knife over your chest and you close your eyes tightly, breathing heavily. “Deep breaths darling. Yeah, that’s it.” He chuckles.

König’s eyes darken. He wants to rip this man’s head off for touching you.

“Your precious girl here is infected now. Well… all of you are.” He chuckles. “This little dart here. Holds 1 Milliliter of the sweetest drug you can get your hands on.” He holds up the little dart. “I prescribe about 1/4 of that for my very special clients. You’re all infected with enough of this to kill a horse.” He laughs. “What the hell is it?” Ghost seethes. “Oh? You don’t know?” He smirks. “It’s a sex drug. A bit like the over the counter ones you can buy, but on steroids. When you take a little bit, you get aroused, you produce pheromones that attract people, makes sex intense. But when you take in more than the recommended amount..” he clicks his tongue.

“Heart rate picks up. Blood pressure rises. Keeps rising and rising until it bottoms out. You’ll either die of a heart attack or your heart will just give out.” He laughs. “So.. your girl here. She was infected first. Which means she’s going to die first, and you’re all going to watch her squirm. She’s going to beg for relief, beg for anything you’ll give her. But you’re stuck.” He laughs. “The only way she’ll feel better is if she gets fucked enough.” He laughs. He sits down in a chair, writing something down. “Ich werde dich töten.” König seethes. Looking up at him through his mask. “What was that big guy? Hm?” He laughs. He stands up once more. “You know what, I’ve got an idea. How about we get rid of the ridiculous costumes, show your real faces!” He claps his hands together. He starts with König, pulling off his hood. He glares up at him. Next was Ghost, he tugs his balaclava off. Ghost sends him a death stare. Next was Keegan, who had a smile on his face. “What are you smiling at?” He crouches down. “Just think your head is going to look perfect on a stick.” He spits in his face. He growls. “Whatever. Pay close attention to your little girlfriend, she’s going to start begging soon enough.” He mumbles. “She’s actually really sexy, might give her a go before her heart explodes.” He grips his dick through his jeans and that’s when König tugs at the ropes, feeling them start to give away. You whimper out, shifting in your chair. “Yeah, there we go.” He chuckles, sitting back down. He goes back to writing something down, and you squirming on the chair doesn’t help the situation at all. You’re rubbing your thighs together, raising your hips. You’re rutting them down into the chair for any sort of relief. As the time goes on, the worse it gets. Pretty soon, all three men are trying to ignore the tightening in their pants, shifting uncomfortably, trying hard to get out of their restraints.

“Awe. Look at you.” The man smiles. “Soaking the chair.” He chuckles. He runs his fingertips up your thigh and you flinch. “Stop.” Ghost growls. “Nah, I think it’s time I take her for a test drive.” He smiles. König rips through the ropes, the man freezes when he hears the click of a gun.

“Turn around.” He growls. “Woah… take it easy big guy. I was only joking.”

“Ich habe einen Witz für dich.” He smiles. “What?” He asks. Just then, König pulls the trigger. He hits the man right between the eyes. He falls backward, blood pouring from his head. König cuts the ropes off of Ghost and motions for him to free Keegan. König rushes to get to you. “You okay?” He asks. “No-“ you shiver. He kneels down, freeing you from the chair. “I know, it’s hard. But you have to fight it.” Ghost mumbles. “Are you hurt? Did he touch you?” He asks. You shake your head. “No.” You grit your teeth. “Where are your clothes?”

“I don’t know, it’s too hot anyways.” You pant. Your skin is hot to the touch. Keegan stands behind you, brushing your hair away from you to look at you. You’re completely clear aside from a tiny puncture mark from the dart. “The… the only way-“ you grit your teeth, closing your eyes. “The only way is to have sex, I can feel my heart beating out of my chest.” You whine. “I feel it too.” Keegan mutters. Ghost looks down. Agreeing silently. König nods his head. “So what do we do?” Keegan asks.

“We do what we have to.” Ghost mumbles. You nod your head.

The more aroused the three men get, the better they seem to smell. They’re attracting you so much. You bend over, crying out. “You okay?” Keegan kneels by you. “Can’t take it anymore.” You look up at him. Tears streaming from your eyes. “Cmon.” He mumbles, sliding his arm under the bend of your knees and your back. He lifts you up. “We’ve got to find a room or something. If we’re going to do this we have to start now.” Keegan mumbles. They nod. They quickly move through the building, Ghost first, König next, and than Keegan with you. They move in a line, just in case there’s more men they don’t know about. You whine into Keegan’s shoulder. Propping yourself up onto him. “Y/N- what are you doing?” He mumbles. “Need it- need it so bad Keegan.” You mewl. You grip onto him, wiggling out of his grasp so that you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist. You attack his neck with your teeth, grinding your hips into him.

“Shit- Y/N. We’re almost there. You have to stop-“ he grits his teeth, Ghost and König glance back at you, seeing you attacking Keegan. Your desperation has them aching.

“In here.” Ghost holds open the door, locking it behind you and propping a chair up on it just in case. It’s a bedroom, at last. “Ah- you’ve got to let go sweetheart.” Keegan groans. “No, please. I need it. Need it so bad.” You whine. Grinding your hips into him more. “I know, we’re going to help you. Just… for one second baby.” He breathes. You let go of him and he lowers you onto the bed. “Fuck..” he growls. Noticing the way you’ve soaked the front of him. The three men are standing at the edge of the bed, staring down at you. Like you’re the finest meal they’ve ever laid their eyes on. Keegan is first to break, reaching for his belt. Your pupils are blown out as you watch his hands move to unbuckle it. The other two follow his movements. You bite your lip, body shivering at the thought of what’s about to happen. You can’t help yourself, reaching between your legs to stimulate the sensitive nub that awaits any kind of relief it can get. A mewl leaves your lips and you tilt your head back. “She’s going to have to get used to me, I’ll go last.” König nods. They all silently agree. He’s right, he’s the biggest of the three. After admiring the way you touch yourself, they can’t anymore.

Keegan reaches out, grasping your hips and pulling you to the edge of the bed. “Poor girl. Just soaking..” he breathes. He rubs the tip of his cock over your aching hole, a whine leaving your lips as you raise your hips into him. He moves his hips forward, the tip of his cock pushing through your wet folds. You want to cry when he fills you up. The relief you feel is incredible. You can feel more tears welling up in your eyes as he starts to thrust himself inside of you.

The squelch from your wet pussy is the only thing they can hear besides your whines. You squirm around, the way he feels is almost too much. “Ah- you’re gripping me so tight.” He breathes. “Hold on.” Ghost mumbles. He lifts you up off of the bed, apologizing at the loss you feel from Keegan exiting you. You straddle him. “You wet enough from her?” He asks. Keegan nods his head. “Y-yeah. Fuck.” He groans. He’s never done anything like this before, nothing like he’s about to do. Ghost lines his cock up with your pussy, and you sink down onto him with a gasp. Clutching his shoulders. “There you go, now relax for Keegan alright?” You nod your head. You feel Keegan’s tip aligning with your ass. You’d be worried. If it weren’t for the drug, you’d be modest and shy away from what they’re doing. But as he fills your ass to the hilt with ease, the fullness you feel. You can’t even think straight anymore.

The pleasure you feel from them has you on cloud 9. Vision blurring, you can barely make a sound. Your lips are parted, eyes are blown wide as they start to move into you. A chuckle leaves Ghosts lips at your reaction to them.

“She’s feeling good.” He laughs. “Think so.” Keegan chuckles. You rest your head on Ghosts shoulder, turning to look at König. He’s pumping his cock quickly, he’s desperate too. You reach your hand out for him. He moves closer and you take him into your hand, pumping his cock. He gasps out, head tilting back. You can see them, all of them. More than just the color of their eyes. You can see their sharp jawlines, the small scars decorating their faces. You can see the curves of their lips, their stubble that needs to be shaved. You can see and feel all of them, and it’s too much. Your first orgasm is coming fast. Your thighs are shaking, your cheeks are flushed from the warmth moving through you. “I.. I’m so close.” You whimper. Your hand tightens around König and he hisses slightly. “Fuck.” He groans. You clutch Ghost hard with your other hand. “I-“ you freeze up. Body going rigid as you reach your first orgasm. You cry out, soaking Ghost’s thighs with your arousal. “Oh fuck.” He breathes, looking down. “Look at the mess you’ve made of me.” He chuckles. “Ah fuck- I’m gonna cum too!” Keegan pants. He grips your hips hard. Thrusting into you harder. He’s chasing after his high, using you to reach it.

He’s panting hard, moans getting more unsteady by the second. “Oh fuck!” He growls, teeth gritted as he cums. His thrusts are sharp and bruising as he rides out his high, stuttering to a stop against you. You feel full of him, turning to look at him. He grips your throat, kissing you hard as he slides himself from your ass. “Fuck-“ he breathes. He steps away from you for a second.

“I think she’s ready for you, König.” Ghost nods. Keegan takes a deep breath, relaxing back into a chair. “Does it feel like it’s worn off?” Ghost asks him. He nods his head. “Yeah. I think it’s only got her so worked up because she’s smaller than us.” He nods. “Probably, never thought about it like that.” You’re rocking your hips into him, desperate for more. “I’ll go make sure the rest is all clear.” Keegan finishes getting dressed. König replaces the chair on the door behind him before making his way back to you. Ghost slides you off of him and you mewl at the emptiness you feel. He chuckles at this, “Relax, just for a second darling.”

“Go to König.” He breathes. You nod your head, König lifts you up into him, swapping places with Ghost. He sits down, lining his cock up with your entrance. “I’m really big sweetheart, so don’t get too eager.” He breathes. “Schau mich an.” He raises your chin and you look him in the eyes. “Keep looking at me.” He presses his forehead to yours. You slowly sink down onto him, thighs shaking slightly. He’s big. You moan out, and he takes the opportunity to kiss you. Once he’s bottoming out in you, you can barely hold yourself up. Ghost has his cock nestled into your ass, like Keegan had. He was already so close. When they start thrusting, you can’t keep quiet. It’s so much, and König adds to it. Circling your clit gently. Sucking your nipples into his mouth. You being stimulated is what helps the l drug wear off. He’d do what he had to.

Ghost has a tight grip on your hips, his thrusts are getting sloppy. He hisses, feeling you tighten slightly around him. He’s right on the edge. He tilts your head back, tugging slightly on your hair. König has one of your nipples between his lips, sucking gently as he rubs your clit. Ghost kisses you hard, his orgasm hitting him like a freight train. It’s by far the best he’s ever had. His body jerks hard as he finishes inside of your ass, pulling away from you completely. You moan at the loss of him, turning to look at him. “I’m going to go help Keegan.” He mumbles. He’s readjusting his cargo pants, buckling his belt. “Be safe.” You whimper. He nods. When he leaves this time, neither you or König are worried about the chair in front of the door. He lifts you up, turning around so that he can lay you on the bed. Smiling when you refuse to let go of him. “Relax, Ich gehe nirgendwohin.” He pushes your hips down into the bed, and looks at you. He’s not sure you’re ready for the force he’s about to use on you, but as desperate as you seem to be, he doesn’t think you’ll mind.

He starts at a fast pace, fucking into you hard. It only takes a few seconds and you’re nearly crying from how rough he is with you. His cock is big and you’ve never taken anything like the three of them ever before. You’ve got a death grip on the blankets beneath you, and you can’t stay quiet. He releases one hand, using it to rub circles into your sensitive nub once more, and that’s when you lose it. You’re sobbing when you finally cum again, raising your hips into him and flinching away from him when he continues his fast pace. “Doing so good for me. So ein gutes Mädchen.” He pants. He leans down to kiss you once more, his high is approaching too. The stimulation he feels is intense, you’re wrapped so tight around him, he just can’t take it anymore.

“Oh yes… yes so close.” He grips your hips hard as he slips over the edge, hips hammering into yours as he cums. You’re sure there will be bruises all over you. “Verdammt, so gut.” He cries. His thrusts halt, and he realizes he’s just filled you up with his cum. He sighs. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” He breathes. You look up at him. Eyes feeling heavy as the arousal finally begins to wear off. You send him a lazy smile. “Don’t be.” You breathe. He slides out of you, groaning as he does so. He takes a second, panting. He’s trying to catch his breath.

He helps you get cleaned up, making sure to clean your skin if the mix of arousal between the four of you.

He wraps you up in a clean blanket. Lifting you up and carrying you back into the room this had all begun. He’s looking around for your clothes but can’t seem to find them. “It’s all clear.” Keegan nods. König nods his head. He places you down in a chair for a moment, picking up his hood and returning it to cover his face. Ghost and Keegan doing the same. “I can’t find her clothes.” König sighs. “I’ve got them.” Keegan nods. He passes them to König and he thanks him. He unwraps the blanket you’re in, helping you get dressed. You’re exhausted and weak, eyes getting heavy as he helps you. “I’ve got a sample of the drug and some paperwork. That’s all we needed right?” Ghost asks. König nods his head. “Yes. All in all this was a successful mission.” He nods. “Jedoch, this stays between us.” He laughs. Ghost and Keegan can’t help but laugh, even you have a tired smile on your lips. “Yes sir.” Keegan laughs.

König ties your boots, and returns the blanket around you, lifting you up with ease. That was one good thing about the massive man, he was strong. “Let’s get to exfil. We all need to be checked out.” Ghost says. Everyone nods in agreement. You’ve finally fallen asleep and König can’t help but smile.

This was going to be a day to remember.

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bunnyreaper · 4 months

Text

captain mactavish's reputation precedes him, and yet standing before you as he does now, you can't help but wonder if something got lost in translation.

soap is a riot once you get him going! he used to be even wilder, if you can believe it. always was up for a laugh as a sergeant!

the man before you looks a little grizzled with age--stubble growing out to a beard, face smeared with black warpaint, and yet beneath thick brows, his blue eyes still sparkle despite his glower. handsome though, still incredibly handsome--which in your mind, is a problematic trait for a captain to have, especially one commanding you.

he chats away to one of his sergeants, seemingly unaware of your presence on the periphery. assignment to this task force is only temporary, you reassure yourself. facing the captain's offensive good looks and intimidating demeanour will last a couple of weeks at most.

taking a breath, you step forward, just outside of the circle of captain mactavish and his sergeants. all eyes fall to you, but his are the ones you can't tear your gaze from. he seems to scrutinise you for a moment, cerulean eyes flickering up and down your form.

"you on ma team?" his voice isn't what you expected, and his accent is delicious--you know you're capable of remaining professional despite it all.

"yes sir." you chirp back instantly, obediently--hoping to not get on the wrong side of your newfound crush.

he nods once at each of his soldiers, dismissing them before turning and heading in the direction of the nearby truck. it takes a moment for you to process before your legs catch up to your thoughts and you start following the captain.

"keep up then lass, let's go." he calls over his shoulder, before stopping at the passenger side door.

it's strange how he opens it for you, watching with intense eyes as you pull your gun into your lap and sink into the seat. captain mactavish takes the driver's seat, and quickly gets the car going down the dirt track.

your thoughts start to flood back to you now you're settled in the truck and have a few moments to think before you really need to get your head in the game.

was the captain not expecting your assignment? it was rather rushed, even taking you by surprise. you'd only just had the chance to ask around about the captain before you were on the next flight over. perhaps you should introduce yourself properly.

"i'm--"

your words are cut off before you can even get out your name. "i ken who ye are." he says, voice a little deadpan and jaw a little tight--it makes your heart fall in a way it certainly shouldn't.

the whole situation just left you perplexed. it seemed captain john mactavish definitely contained multitudes, and the gruff man you saw before you was what you would get while you were out on the field.

"then why did you ask if I was the one on your team?" you ask, determined to not fall silent lest the atmosphere suffocate you.

the captain throws his hand over the back of your seat, eyes meeting yours only briefly before he checks the view out of the back of the truck and starts reversing at speed.

"jus' wanted to hear ye say 'yes sir.'"

he glances back to you as he jerks the car around. a smirk tugs at his lips, and then he throws you a wink as you finally get to see that playful side you were promised. "sounds so pretty coming from yer mouth, doll."

#soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #call of duty x reader #call of duty fanfiction #bunny writes

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oceantornadoo · 19 days

Text

sleepy morning (simon riley x f!reader)

part 4 of the two lieutenants series...HORNINESS LEVEL 1000

tw: wet and messyyyyyyyyy MDNI

that had to have been the best sleep of your life.

no seriously. extra strength melatonin could not compare to sleeping with simon THEE “ghost” riley. you had never had such a broad, thick man on top of you. and you liked it.

now, however, you found yourself in a much more compromising position.

the sleep had started innocent enough, you both insisting it was a platonic arrangement, a cheap version of getting a weighted blanket. but you had shuffled in your sleep, and now your bodies were tangled. simon's head lay on your collabone, his mouth hovering over your clothed breast, emitting small sighs in his sleep. your nipples were aching at the prolonged stimulation, his breath changing the temperature and making them harden. his hands grasped you beneath your arms, thumbs brushing the sides of your tits. you didn't think it was on purpose, but you had been on the edge for hours.

simon nuzzled closer into you, feigning sleep as long as possible. his left thigh wedged between your legs, his right bracketing the outside of yours to keep you right there. his morning wood, clothed by his thin sweats, laid heavy against your thigh. he could almost smell the wetness between your thighs, the way you tried humping him when you were asleep. little, uncontrolled movements of your hips, up and down, chasing friction. he tried to stop his teeth from sinking into your clothed tit, the softness of it so tempting. you were right there, almost his, yet so far it felt like foreign territory. somewhere he's been plenty of times, unwelcome. he had to tread carefully. then of course, soap had the gall to knock.

"l.t.? yer on recruit training, started a couple minutes ago." simon groaned against you, providing even more friction to your tit. guess he couldn't pretend to be asleep anymore. "'m sick. cancel it." a pause, soap was unbelieving. when simon was sick, if anything, he coached the recruits with even more vengeance than usual. "yer sure?" simon propped himself up on his forearms, squishing you in between them even more. you looked up at him, a dream with your tired eyes and a bit of drool at the corner of your mouth. he laid a small kiss to your forehead, so small you must still be dreaming. "cancel it. 'm bedridden today." his gravelly morning voice must have been enough for soap, who he could virtually hear straightening up after leaning against simon's doorframe. "got it, l.t."

simon breathed a sigh of relief. finally, finally, he acknowledged you. "mornin' dovie. sleep well?" sleep well?! you had slept like the dead. "best sleep of my life, simon. might have to make this a regular thing." you joked, still unsure of the lines that had been erased last night. and that forehead kiss. "available whenever ya need, love." you were still tangled together, his cock still against your cunt. you bucked against him again involuntarily, the whisper of friction too light for you. you both looked down together at where you were almost touching, separated by two layers of fabric. "simon i-"

another loud knock. "what." simon gritted out. "seen the better lieutenant, ghost? we're supposed to run drills today an' i can't find her." it was gaz and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. simon looked down at you questioningly and you shook your head vehemently. "she's sick. contagious." gaz was choking back a laugh. he must have talked to soap before this. "alrigh', i'll tell price. get better, you two." fuck.

"shit, si, i'm sorry. should have slept at my own place i-" another forehead kiss this time, a bit longer than the first. he trailed his mouth to your nose, small pecks here and there. turning his head down, he nosed your jaw, inhaling the smell of your mixed scents. like you were two of the same. one.

"can i?" you were so far gone it took a bit for his question to register. you had tilted your head back to give him more access, a willing prey to your domestic predator. "can- can you what?" he moved down a bit more, cock moving away from your cunt. you unwillingly let out a whine at the loss of contact and he chuckled into your skin. "suck your tits, baby." oh. oh.

"yes, yes. please"

he laughed again, the sensation vibrating through your skin. his mouth finally made contact with your tit, mouthing at it over your t-shirt. thankfully, it was thin, so you can feel the slight suck and the ghost of a bite. he alternated between your breasts, hands rolling the other nipple he wasn't sucking. your shirt was wet, sticking to your skin, drenched in saliva. "simon, can you- please." the last part was a moan as he gave you a bigger bite. "use your words, lieutenant." he was rutting into the bed, cock chasing much needed friction. he didn't want to scare you but his need for you was bubbling over, a pot on the stove too long. "my shirt, ah, my shirt off."

he freed you from your shirt, the fabric drenched in his saliva, sticking to your skin as he peeled it off. your tits were wet and slightly bruised from his minstrations. marked.

"you like my marks on you?" you looked down, not caring about the unsexy double chin as you took in what he had done to you. keeping it platonic was done and dead, and you were going to take advantage of it.

"more."

a willing soldier, he dove back in, licking and sucking like he had been made for it. his right hand went lower, palm pressing against your wet pussy for some much-needed attention to your clit. you had never come from nipple stimulation alone, but you had been edged for hours while you were sleeping. the pressure on your clit was perfect, the wetness seeping through your sleep shirts onto his callused hand. he let go of your nipple with a loud smack, a string of saliva dripping from his chin. "think you can come like this, dove?" you nodded furiously, his desperate little dove. simon went back down to your abandoned tits and you gasped at the feeling of his bite. he pressed his palm harder against your aching cunt, virtually feeling the flutter of your wanting pussy, pleading for him. he rubbed it in circles, up and down, listening to your sounds to find a pattern you liked.

and suddenly he had it, your back arching as you felt that telltale spark at the base of your spine. simon felt it, your desperation increasing tremendously as you bucked into his hand, thrusting out your tits like a bitch in heat. "right there, baby. come fer' me, hm?" you nodded as he gave your tit one last long suck and pressed his palm right where you needed it, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. he lightly tongued your breasts as you came down, cleaning up his mess. "feel better?" you groaned, the reality of how desperate you had acted finally hitting you.

"they all know, simon. the whole base knows by now." he moved up until you two were face to face. so what if the whole base knew? you had been his since that first handshake.

"so what?"

guys this was so horny wowwwwwwwww ovulation hitting me fr

part one part two part three part four

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod 141 #ghost call of duty #tornadothoughts #simon riley smut #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #ghost #cod ghost #ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost headcanons #ghost fanfiction

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charliemwrites · 5 months

Text

Unhinged obsessive Johnny Thoughts™️? Unhinged obsessive Johnny Thoughts™️.

Johnny didn’t mean to. He swears he didn’t mean to, please understand.

You’re his favorite server at his favorite bar. He finds every excuse he can to drag one or all of his team there. Yes he likes their company, of course. Likes spending time with them, laughing and joking and building bonds outside of life or death situations. But you are the highlight of those nights.

You smile so sweetly, a little cheeky twist whenever he gets all of the 141 there together. You know all their names - or their callsigns at least. Call Price “captain” with a giggle whenever he groans at you to stop calling him that.

Johnny adores you. Sometimes when he’s alone at the table - the others off smoking or playing pool - you’ll stop by. You don’t have to, but you do, chatting until one of the other servers teases to stop flirting and help bus.

You always blush when they shout that, but never deny it. Leave him with one last warm smile and a promise to top up his drink for listening to you ramble. As if he couldn’t live with your voice in his ears all the time.

You tell him about your masters program. Complain about shitty customers. Admit you broke up with your last boyfriend for calling your hobbies a “silly waste of time.” The movies you’ve seen or watch for nostalgia. He knows when your playlist is on at the bar because you spend your entire shift bouncing and mouthing along whenever you’re not handling a customer.

It’s a slow infection. A creeping, insidious thing that seeps into his blood and corrupts him from the inside out. This awful, twisting devotion for you.

He knows to be careful, loathe to be one of those men you avoid like the plague, trading with other servers to handle. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He’s happy with the flirting and the little kindnesses, happy that you always light up when you see him. That you breathe a quiet “thank you” and squeeze his arm the one time he steps in one a handshake customer on your behalf.

It’s enough. He reminds himself that it’s enough. He doesn’t deserve more than you’re willing to give. He can’t give you the life you deserve yet.

But then one day things go wrong. So, so wrong.

There’s been a rowdy group of men that have been harassing the younger servers all night. You stepped in, older and more experienced, practiced at not giving them the reactions they want. It’s another of the things Johnny loves about you. You don’t need a mask like Ghost to hide your face.

One them especially tries antagonize you, even manages to earn a sharp word when he says something crass. Johnny tenses when the guy (buddies following suit) starts getting loud, aggressive. Towering over you when he knocks over his barstool, trying to intimidate.

Johnny shoves the guy away from you before it can get much farther. Relief washes over you as the owner, a big burly man, finally makes an appearance and kicks the lot of them out.

“A whiskey on the house for Soap,” you ask the bartender, hand pressed to your chest. “My knight in a cotton sweater.”

He smiles for your sake, mind buzzing to see you so shaken up.

“Alright, lass?”

“Yeah, just spooked me is all,” you sigh, a hand to your cheek now. “Think I’m gonna step out for some air. Thank you again, John.”

He lets you go, even though every molecule in his body urges him to bundle you up under his arm, safe and sound. Take you somewhere quiet to smooth your feathers.

Something doesn’t feel right.

He manages to wait exactly one minute and seventeen seconds before he tells a blasted Gaz that he’s going to the bathroom. When he steps out the back door, you’re being cornered by the man, two of his friends hanging back telling him to “leave it alone” but not actually doing a fucking thing to stop him.

So Johnny does. Honestly, he blacks out for a second. The next thing he knows, he’s cradling you in his arms, his knuckles stinging and bloody. The men are nowhere to be found but there’s a pool of blood in the alleyway. You’re unconscious, fainted sometime in the scuffle - or maybe hit your head.

Johnny isn’t himself. He’s not thinking. He’s used to keeping his cool with guns pressed to his head, but this is different. This is you.

He doesn’t mean to. He really doesn’t but it’s the best he can come up with when he just got a firsthand look at how dangerous the world is for you when he’s not around.

Please understand. He has to keep you safe.

#asks #thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader

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xxshadowbabexx · 2 months

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What the cod men make f!reader ride (NSFW)

Price is totally, 100% making you ride his boot. He just is. Loves how pathetic you look, whimpering and begging him to just touch you already. Loves to remind you how much of a whore you are. And, once you cum all over his boot he makes you lick it clean.

Ghost goes crazy at the thought of you riding his large, muscular thigh. Needs to drag your hips back and forth as you get off. Head buried in his neck because it just feels so good as you whimper in his ear.

Gaz wants to see you ride his captain. Please do it for him? Seeing you ride Price will result in him cumming untouched. It might just be the best thing he has ever seen.

Soap totally makes you ride his bicep. Like will toss you over his shoulder and make you cum on his arm before he tosses you onto the bed and ravages you.

Roach needs you to ride his cock. Needs to see you dominate him while chasing your release. Praising him for letting you use him like this.

König will do anything to catch you riding his pillow. Literally NEEDS to catch you in the act. He’ll pay you, not even joking. Just please let him record it.

Graves this cocky fucking bastard will have you ride his abs, he gets off on seeing your slick slathered over his lower abdomen. The moment you cum, squirting all over him, you’ll feel a thick substance landing up and down your back. Fucking bastard.

Alex wants you to ride his face. Needs his mustache to be wet and sticky as your slick drips down his jaw and soaks the sheets beneath him. His hands grip your ass and hips as he moans into you, utterly in love.

Alejandro wants you to ride his tongue. He’ll stick his long tongue out as far as it goes and let you do what you please. He just wants to worship his cariño.

Nikto loves seeing you ride his fingers. Obsessed with the image of you desperately trying to get off on his long, thick fingers while begging him to just stuff you with his cock already.

taglist

@theloneshadow24 @frogtowne @ladyxtiger @whitetiger846

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patrollingboston · 2 months

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The way Price shoves this person to safety 😭😭

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nsharks · 1 year

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can we see more of dad ghost ♥︎ im obsessedLMAO

“soft around the edges”

aka when ghost’s son runs up to him in front of the team (a little part 2 to this fic. part 3 here.)

Soap doesn't share the Lieutenant's secret with the rest of the force.

Things go back to normal after that brief, bizarre encounter with you. When their break is over, Ghost carries on the typical dry humor and sharp orders, pretending that Soap never had dinner at his cozy home and met his pregnant wife.

Though, MacTavish does notice little differences in his stoic superior turned new dad. Ghost is shockingly, and ever-so-slightly, nicer. His language is still foul. But he's a little less rough around the edges: compliments Soap a bit more, tells him to shut the fuck up a little bit less.

It's not something that any of the others notice, of course, which is why they are all so baffled when they finally do figure out about Ghost's secret family.

It's two years later when they are disbanding at a base in the UK that you accidentally reveal yourself.

It's truly an accident.

Whenever you pick him up from the military base, Simon instructs you to wait outside. Says he doesn't want to put you at any risk. But you have a knack for not listening to him. You missed him so much during the past four months, and the two-year-old in your arms was old enough to start asking where his dad was, so you figured you could wait for him inside this time, hidden away in a corner.

Your plan might have worked if it weren't for the swell of your belly making it difficult for you to hold the squirming toddler.

He recognizes his dad even with the skull mask on.

Immediately starts to yelp for him, kicking his little feet around, and giving you no choice but to set the toddler down for a second. But your son is growing so much, and he's got his father's determination.

It's definitely riveting for Soap and the team to witness the whole thing unfold.

At first sight, the waddling two-year-old boy doesn't faze them. There were usually family members and little ones waiting at the gate. Gaz and Price are saying their goodbyes when they both notice that the toddler running around is coming in their direction. Or more specifically, in Ghost's direction.

Soap knows right away what's happening.

Watches with raised brows.

For the rest of the team, this is the first time they witness Ghost's demeanor shift to something so soft and peculiar. His mannerisms give everything away before the kid even reaches him: a typically-unfazed Ghost looks around frantically, probably wondering how the hell his son even got here, until he spots you waddling sheepishly after him.

Oh, fuckin' hell.

You give your husband an apologetic look that says I'm sorry and help me at the same time.

“Can’t believe what I’m seeing," Gaz mutters, watching as Ghost bends down to pick up the small child.

Tell me 'bout it, Soap wants to say. But he's already gone through the initial disbelief two years ago, so now, he simply watches with knowing eyes.

He can't say he didn't spend some time the past two years wondering what kind of parents you and Ghost had become. He knew bits and pieces of his past and hesitantly wondered if Ghost had carried on that behavior.

But now he witnesses the Lieutenant scoop the toddler in his arms, making him look so small against his broad chest. “I’ve got ya, kid.” And he is tucking the boy's head underneath his chin and pressing his masked nose to the top of his hair.

Then, the toddler reaches a small hand to his mask and pats it, perhaps harder than he realizes, but Ghost simply shakes his head and patiently wraps his much larger hand around the curious little one’s.

Ghost is soft and gentle and anything but angry, even though you worried that he might have been.

Everything seems to sink in for the team when they see you finally reach your husband. Your mouth moving to rush out apologies:

"I'm sorry, Simon, I know you said to wait outside. We just really wanted to see you and I tried to hold him and-"

And Ghost might have been frustrated on another day. But on this day, he’s just relieved to see you again. It's apparent to all of the eyes watching that this brooding man, with his deadpan eyes and a trademark mask, is utterly and unabashedly in love with you and the little family you have gifted him. Finally able to fully relax as he wraps an arm around your waist and nuzzles your neck, something you could never imagine him doing in public like this a few years ago.

“S’okay, love,” he tells you. “Can’t be mad, can I? Not when I get to see you two.”

You’re carrying his second child and he hasn't seen you in months and he simply doesn't give a fuck at the moment.

To his team watching, the Lieutenant seems like another person.

They're watching Simon, not Ghost.

"That's his girl, then?" Alejandro finally asks, as they have been frozen in place. Watching in curiosity and bewilderment.

“Wife seems like,” Gaz says. Shooting Soap a curious look, he adds, “Did you know anything about this?”

“Hell,” Soap shrugs to feign innocence. “Didn’t know a thing-“

But, of course, you’re soon waving over at him and smiling before your husband can stop you. “Hi, Johnny!”

Guilty and caught, Soap offers a small wave in return before shaking his head. “Christ, alright. May have ran into them awhile back.”

“And you didn’t tell us, MacTavish?” Gaz scoffs.

“Not my secret to tell,” Soap shrugs again and watches as Ghost caresses your pregnant stomach. He leans down to whisper something in your ear and you smile coyly at him, planting a little kiss to the cheek of his hard mask. Ghost is somehow able to hold you and your son firmly against his chest and still have more room. Must be what had the two of you realizing that a fourth family member was needed.

Soap hears the snide remarks as your family leaves and is out of earshot.

Looks like Ghost keeps himself busy on leave.

You think he helps with the diapers?

The kid’s even got his eyes.

Reckon he takes the mask off during sex?

Finally, Soap groans out, “Haud yer wheesht. That’s enough.”

“Sergeant’s right,” Price, whose own surprise has faded into something more stern, quiets the members of the team who are still lingering. “That’s your superior you’re gosspin’ about. Show some respect and bugger off.”

But once the Captain is gone, Soap allows himself this one quip (because, he’d been so good at not sharing what he’d seen for two years).

It’s a quiet one that he mentions only to Kyle.

“He takes her shopping an’ carries all the bags. Saw it myself.”

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod #call of duty #fanfiction #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghost #fluff #simon ghost riley x reader #fem!reader #dad ghost

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lazybutsmexy · 1 year

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Bird hunting

Ghost x fem!reader x Soap

Chapter 12: The Nest (Epilogue)

Ch. 11 > Series Masterlist

Warnings: uuuuh none, I think?

Summary: Two weeks later.

Do not read if you're under 18. This work contains mature and triggering themes.

Word count: 1700~

December

Johnny watched his breath condense on the cold glass, blurring his sight of the snowfall. Better that way, he thought, it won’t let me see my own mug. He looked over his shoulder to watch Simon’s back. That strong, muscular back he always looked at in admiration and hope, sat now hunched on a too-small chair, utterly exhausted. Neither of them had gotten any more than a couple hours of sleep in the past two weeks, and it was showing. They were both physically and mentally drained, just getting through every day, one by one.

He let out a sigh and stepped closer to Simon, carefully resting his hands on his weary shoulders and felt a slight jolt - he had been dozing off. “Try to get some sleep, Simon,” he prodded, knowing it would be a lost cause.

“...What will I see when I close my eyes, Johnny?” Simon grunted tiredly, barely raising his head to see him in his periphery. Johnny bit his lip and leaned down, pressing his cheek against Simon’s.

“...I don’t know, love.”

At least, they were together in this.

~~~~~~

The low chime of the bells accompanied the funeral procession as the casket was carried out of the church. The skies were cloudy, mockingly fitting for such gloomy scenery. Price looked at the crowd of people gathered around the casket and trickling out of the building. It was like looking at a field of black flowers - most of them saluting at the mortal remains of Officer Melanie Kirk as she was carried to the hearse that would drive her to her final resting place.

Detective Timothy Hartford was standing close to the family, not as her superior, but as her father’s old colleague. He had asked to be put on leave for personal issues, and Price wondered if that was the prelude to his retirement from the police force as well. After all, Timothy had always felt his losses way too close. Another change in careers could be beneficial for him.

As the funeral procession went on and the crowd dispersed, Hartford found himself looking for his old military friend. As soon as he stepped up to Price, he felt a couple of pats on his shoulder.

“Already said it before, but you have my condolences,” John hummed, lighting his cigar and handing Hartford the lighter.

“Appreciated, and thanks for coming,” the detective took a long drag of his cigarette, “how’s your girl doing?”

Price let out a long sigh and shook his head, and his eyes seemed to lose themselves in the horizon. “Still sleeping, I’m afraid.”

“...It’s been a couple of weeks already, no?” the detective questions, arching one of his eyebrows, “how are your boys holding up?”

“Yeah, well,” Price groaned, a sad smile tugging at his lips, “both Ghost and Soap refuse to leave her room. They keep massaging her hands and legs, hoping for her to react to anything.”

Hartford replicated his friend’s expression, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “You must be happy your kids are so tight,” he hummed, before stomping the butt of his cigarette on the ground. Price couldn’t find any reason to deny it, and a pleased smile found its home in his face.

“I am,” he sighed, before bidding his friend goodbye and walking back to his car, “let’s have a drink sometime this week, alright?”

Hartford waved him goodbye, and walked towards his own car to follow the funeral procession to the cemetery.

~~~~~~

…It was warm.

It was warm and dry, and smelled of antiseptic. Definitely not like the forest.

The beeping was getting annoying.

She tried to take a deep breath, but her sides hurt. Her lungs felt like two empty balloons. The hand on top of hers was strong, slightly calloused, and very, very warm. It was tenderly kneading her knuckles and fingers. She wanted to hold it. Just a squeeze.

The hand retreated and she nearly let out a whine, but she only managed to exhale through her nose. She missed the warmth. She wanted to find it again.

Her eyelids cracked open, the blurry colors slowly settling in. The first thing she recognized was a ceiling - she was at the hospital, again. But the room was darker than usual. The fluorescent lights were off, and the only light seemed to come from a window.

She slowly turned her head to look at the source of light, and her breath briefly paused at the view. Simon and Johnny were looking out of the window, supporting themselves on the other. Johnny’s arm was wrapped around Simon’s middle, and Simon’s was keeping Johnny close by his shoulders.

[Name] thought they looked absolutely adorable, but short flashbacks began appearing in her mind. She remembered their worried eyes, their urgent voices. A pang of guilt weighed heavy in her chest - it was all her fault. Well, technically it was her captors’, but she had been careless enough to let it turn that bad.

She missed them dearly, though. How long had it been since she fainted? She couldn’t wait in silence any longer. She wanted to see their faces again.

She wet her lips, and took a deep, shuddery breath.

A slow, gentle whistle startled both men, and they turned around to meet [Name] looking at them with a drowsy smile and half-lidded eyes.

“How’s the view?” her voice was barely louder than a whisper, but it seemed to echo in the silence of the room.

In a fraction of a second, they cleared the distance from the window to the bed, barely able to contain their enthusiasm as their hands got hold of whatever was closer to them. Johnny’s hands cupped her face, while Simon took her hand and pressed it against his cheek, pressing his lips against the skin.

Johnny looked deep into her eyes with a watery smile, his tears colliding with her rosy apples. “The view is beautiful, breathtaking actually,” he kissed her cheeks, earning a breathy giggle from her before she coughed, her throat still too dry.

Simon handed her a glass of water and helped her take tiny sips, while Johnny pressed the button to call the nurse in. Once she’d drunk enough, Simon leaned in, claiming her lips in a slow, needy kiss. [Name] let out a small moan into his mouth, feeling content and fuzzy for the first time in a long while.

~~~~~~

“...and only after you’ve completed the physical therapy, you can get back to training,” the doctor instructed [Name], and she couldn’t help but compare it to the little speech he had given her only a little over two months prior. “And then you have the psychological evaluation to determine if you’re suitable to get back on the field, but that’s out of my scope, really,” he shrugged and offered her a little smile, “I hope you don’t get back too soon this time, though.”

[Name] pouted and let out a short snort at him, “Likewise, Doc,” she grumbled, but then she continued with a little grin of her own, “thanks for everything.”

The doctor nodded and gave her a gentle pat on the leg, before taking his leave. All this time, while she was prodded and poked all over, Simon and Johnny had remained aside and out of the way, staring into the back of the heads of whoever got closer to her.

But now they were alone in the room once again, and both men took one of her sides, unable to keep their hands off her now that she was awake. She hummed into their touches, raising her own hand to stroke Johnny’s cheek.

“I was half-expecting to see you turned into a lobster when you came back,” she teased him, and he only nuzzled into her hand.

“I did take the sunscreen,” he smiled, carefully stroking her bruised wrist with his thumb, “I always listen to you, y’know?” The question looked much heavier in his eyes than how it sounded, and [Name] didn’t fail to notice it.

“I know, you just like the banter, hm?” she smiled at him, pulling him down to kiss his cheek. She watched the corners of his eyes crinkle with a smile, and wiped out a stray tear with her thumb. He leaned in closer, burying his face in her neck and inhaling her scent deeply.

She enjoyed his weight on her and relaxed into Simon’s touch as he held her hand in his own. A few more moments passed in silence, before she let out a little whine.

“I can’t believe I’ll be on medical leave, again,” she sighed, and Simon let out a chuckle, pressing his lips to her forehead.

“We managed to get Price to let us stay with you this time,” he hummed, and she noticed a mischievous glint in his eyes. That piqued her interest, and curiosity got the best of her.

“...How?”

“We told him that if he even talked about sending us off on a mission, we’d break our own legs and force him to put us on medical leave, too,” Johnny smirked, barely pulling away from her neck to speak. Her mouth fell open in shock.

“You did not-”

“Nothing will keep us away from you this time, Tweetie-bird,” Johnny pressed a soft kiss on her cheek, “we’re all going home together.”

[Name]’s smile only widened, and she knew that if both men paid attention, they would hear her speeding heartbeat. “Home?”

“My place,” Simon clarified, his thumb tenderly stroking her darkened cheek, “it’s big enough for the three of us.”

She considered the thought, falling asleep lulled by Johnny’s reading, and waking up to their sleepy faces and Simon’s awful bed hair. Lazy morning breakfasts, and quiet talks over hot drinks while snuggled up in Simon’s enormous sofa.

“Sounds nice,” she hummed softly, before quickly piping up, “I call dibs in the middle!”

Johnny barked a laugh, before squishing her cheeks and making her lips pucker out, “as if I’d let you sleep anywhere else!” He pressed a sloppy kiss on her pouty lips, swallowing her giggles.

Simon watched them - the two people that poured all their love into him without a second thought - with a content smile on his face.

There was no empty space between him and Johnny any longer.

His heart was complete once again.

The end.

A/N: Don't you guys love a happy ending? I personally love them :) Thank you all who stuck to the end, despite all the pain I made you go through, you truly mean a lot to me!! You read all of this idea of mine, that started like a little thought and snowballed into a 12-part series lol. Thank you again for all your support!!!

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neoarchipelago · 5 months

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Hybrid AU with Squad 141 and reader is a Red Panda hybrid.

The boys just love to cuddle them, pet their ears and tail. They get so flustered and slightly annoyed to be treated like some kind of plushie. But they also melt every time one of them swings by their room in need of comfort to cuddle them. Big fluffy tail wrapping around the man's waist. Eventually letting them fall asleep.

Hybrid!reader who gets lots of looks of 'cute' 'adorable' 'fluffy' to the point everyone wants to touch their tail or ears, much to reader's dismay.

Boys try to not interfere per Reader's request, they can handle it they say. Until one day, reader ignores some nasty recruit who wants to pet their tail and reader refuses politely after a constant, annoying request from the recruit. Until the idiot decides that if he wants the tail, he'll get it, as he grabs it with force in a tight grasp, making reader yelp in pain. Attracting immediately the attention of the Team. Ghost ain't even in the room but he heard it, comes barging in as soap and gaz are already on the situation.

You get extra cuddles and attention that night. No one dares touching your tail until you're comfortable. Word is spread about what happened to the recruit after daring to touch you. Now no one even dares uttering a word of praise or a request to touch you. They know you're off boundaries. You belong to them.

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miniwheat77 · 8 months

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Army Green. (Ghost x Virgin!Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, Age gap (Reader is 20, Simon is 32), unprotected sex, p in v sex, virginity loss, animal getting hurt, Simon in distress, PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE YOU READ. (Sorry if I missed any.)

It’s a sunny day, you’ve spent most of the day outside.

Mostly working on your yard, but you didn’t always mind. It did get rough sometimes of course, living alone and doing all of the work constantly. You lived in a pretty small house. It had a smaller yard, gravel driveway. It was fenced in. It was nice.

Sometimes the work piled up, getting busy, trying to pull yourself out of a funk. Especially because doing 100% of the work was new to you. Since you’d just gotten out of a serious relationship. It was a tough situation. You’d moved out with your boyfriend at 18. You were together for the better part of your teenage years, your first real boyfriend, the only serious boyfriend you’d ever had.

The break up was miserable and rough. The fights were bad, the messages were vulgar and laced with venom. It was a really rough breakup that left you damaged.

You went from a two person household, to one. Having to work more to pay the bills, having to pick up the rest of the household chores and somehow still stay sane. It was tough, but you managed. You had a few friends that helped you stay busy, and you were thankful for that.

You were sitting on your couch, it was the weekend and you didn’t want to spend all of it doing yard work. Your friends were supposed to be coming over and you were excited to spend the night with them. Just as you finished cleaning up your house, you heard a knock on your door. Knowing that it was your friends, you yelled for them to come inside. They walked in with all kinds of drinks and snacks in their hands, ready to have a good night.

“Dude, your neighbor is super weird.” One of them mumbles. “He wears a mask with like.. a skull face on it.” She mumbles. “Yeah?” You laugh. “Why does that make him weird?” You question her. “That’s all he ever wears. I’ve never seen him in anything else.”

“So what. Maybe he doesn’t want people seeing his face.” You shrug. “Whatever. I think it’s weird.” She shrugs. “Maybe he’s like.. super hot and doesn’t want people to know.” Your other friend smiles. “Maybe. Walk over there and find out for me.” You nudge her. Earning a laugh from them. “You’ve never met him?” She asks. You shake your head. “No. I’ve actually never even seen him, I didn’t know he wore a skull mask.” You shrug. They laugh. Eventually the subject changes.

Later that night as you’re sitting on the couch, you’re all about to go to bed. “What if your neighbor is super hot?” She asks again. “There’s tons of hot people, be specific.” You toss a piece of popcorn at her. “I mean.. what if he’s like super hot. You should talk to him.” She shrugs. “Um. I’m pretty sure he’s like 30.” The other one laughs. “Oh.. well damn.” She sighs. “What’s wrong with him being 30? Why would that stop me?” You ask. They both look at you like you’ve just called them the worst names known to mankind. “Jesus! You whore!” They laugh. “I’m serious! What’s wrong with that.” You giggle. “Just.. not your own age?”

“Maybe that’s why guys suck so bad. Maybe we need to branch out a bit. Go for the weird old guys that wear skull masks.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you. “Maybe.” You smirk. “Nah, I’m not trying anything with anyone. Maybe not ever after Wesley.” You roll your eyes. “Oh please, Wesley wouldn’t see a good girl if he got hit by one.”

“Clearly.” The other rolls her eyes. “It’s just because I wasn’t ready.” You mumble. Earning glances for them. “Ready for what?”

“Sex.” They perk up. “What? You were together for that long and never had sex?”

“No?”

“Why not?”

“Because.. I’ve never had sex before? And wasn’t ready?” You laugh awkwardly. They’re both staring at you in confusion. “Well shit. We didn’t know that.” They laugh. “Damn. Whole new perspective.” They laugh softly.

“Yeah, my poor ‘old’ neighbor probably heard those nasty fights, no way he’d fuck around with a girl like me.” You laugh. “Never know until you try.”

You roll your eyes. “Goodnight you two.” You laugh, walking back into your bedroom. You settle into your bed, eyes heavy as you fade into a deep sleep.

You hear whining outside, it startles you awake.

You look at your phone, it’s early. The sun has just barely risen, it’s still mostly dark. Cascades of blue painting the sky. You sit up, rubbing your eyes as you hear it again. It sounds like a dog in pain.

You climb out of bed, walking out to your living room. You can still hear it faintly. Your friends are still asleep on the couch and you open your front door quietly, peeking outside. It’s cold, chills creep up your legs and arms immediately, maybe a bad time to sleep in a tank top and shorts. You step outside, covering yourself with your arms as you look around for the sound you’re hearing. You notice the noise is louder now, along with rattling. You spot a dog, it’s got it’s paw stuck in your fence. Fairly close to your bedroom, that’s why you heard it.

“Shit-“ you mumble. You jog lightly to get to her. It’s your neighbors dog, you assume the one with the skull mask. “Hey, stop moving.” You mumble as she tugs to free her paw. You hear a door open and close behind you, noticing it’s your neighbor.

And he doesn’t have on a skull mask.

“Shite, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize she’d gotten out.” He says as he jogs to you. You can hear the gravel giving away under his feet. “It’s alright. No worries.” You mumble. You unwrap her paw. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.” You mumble. As she whines more. Once you free her paw, she frantically licks at it. “Let me see it darling.” You breathe, reaching your hand out. To your surprise she lies down, rolling onto her back so that you could get a good look at her. Your neighbor crouches down to check the rest of her as you look at her paw. “Just a scratch.” You smile. “Yeah, she’s a bit over dramatic.” The man laughs. “I heard her whining.” You laugh. “Yeah. If I accidentally bump her she’ll yelp like I’ve cut her leg off.” He smiles. His accent is thick and his voice is incredibly deep.

And your friends were absolutely right, he’s hot as hell.

“I don’t think we’ve ever met.” You stand up. He stands up with you, reaching his hand out. “I’m Simon.” You send him a smile. “Y/N.” He smiles. “Ah, and this is my dramatic princess Paisley.” He looks down at her. “Nothing wrong with a little bit of embellishment, gets the attention you need.” You smile down at her. He laughs at this. “Anyways, sorry for waking you, love.” You feel your cheeks warm at his pet name. “No worries, I’m just glad she’s alright.”

“Cmon, back to bed with you.” He nods his head at the dog and she walks with him back to their house. You make your way back to your door, stepping inside. You forget that your friends are there and they stir awake with the sound of your door closing. “Y/N? What are you doing?”

“My neighbors dog got stuck in the fence.”

“Is it okay?”

“Yeah she’s fine. But you were right. He’s hot as fuck.” You laugh. Walking passed them, going back into your room.

—

It’s been a while since you’ve had a day off, picking up extra shifts and doing more and more work so that you could afford your house. It was getting rough. You didn’t see much of your neighbor, aside from passing. He did always wear a skull mask which you found weird. Until you were up early and seen him leaving one day.

He was wearing full military attire, Paisley had on a vest and he was telling her to get into the back of his truck, that’s when it clicked.

His accent, why he was always gone, his large build, the mask. It all made sense now.

Your next day off, you’re sitting in a coffee shop with your friends and they’re making fun of you. It’s a gathering, an every once in a while coincidence that all of you had the same day off. “So what’s going on with everyone else? I feel like I’ve been talking about myself this entire time.”

“Not much.” Everyone mumbles.

“Oh, Y/N’s neighbor is smoking hot, I’m waiting for her to announce that she has a controversially older boyfriend.”

The girl next to you is loud when she says it, earning an elbow to the side from you. “Ohhhh. Tell us more?”

You roll your eyes. “I’ve talked to him once, his dog got her paw stuck in my fence, there’s nothing weird about that. Although he is very, very attractive.”

“It’s weird, he always wears a skull mask.”

“Oh!” You sit up. “I know why. I saw him leaving the other morning wearing full military gear. That explains the accent and everything.” You laugh.

“Accent?”

“Oh.. I forgot to say that? He’s British.”

Their mouths drop, and you can’t help but blush at your spaced information.

“No way, Y/N. If you don’t have sex with that man right now..” she laughs. “Oh god, I am not ready for that. I just got out of a shitty relationship.” You laugh. “Well.. just out of curiosity.” She sips her from her cup. “Just how much thinking have you done about Wesley since you talked to your neighbor?” She teases. You roll your eyes which makes them all laugh. “See!”

“Christ. You guys are ridiculous. I have to go do yard work.” You roll your eyes.

“Look sexy!” She calls out as you exit the building, your cheeks are on fire.

When you arrive home, you look up at the sky, noticing the brewing storm. Maybe today was a bad day for yard work after all. Just as you make your way inside, the rain starts to come down. You sit down on your couch, deciding to watch a show instead.

You lose track of time. You could hear the rain pouring down outside. Thunder making you jump slightly.

A knock at your door has you whipping around. You stand up, slowly making your way up to your door. You open it slightly, noticing your neighbor. He’s soaking wet. “Uh.. hi. Sorry to bother you so late. I just.. have you seen Paisley?” He asks. “Uh.. no I haven’t. Is something wrong?” You ask, opening the door up wider. “I let her out earlier and she never came back in. I think she ran off.” He sighs. “I’ve been looking everywhere and I can’t find her.”

“Let me put some shoes on, I can help.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” He sighs. “No, she’s a good girl, I wouldn’t want something bad happening to her.” You smile. Once you’ve slid on shoes and a jacket, you’re stepping out into the rain.

Ghost notices your tattered old skate shoes immediately. If you’ve got a boyfriend, why isn’t he taking care of you? Ghost knows he’s seen a guy around.

Behind your houses was a huge patch of trees, that’s where the both of you decide to look first. You’re calling out for her, walking along. You part ways when you get into the trees. Calling out for her. You don’t see anything and it’s getting darker as you walk along.

Ghost is somewhere further away by now, he’s calling for her, but she isn’t coming. He stops with a sigh. “Christ, where the fuck are you, fucking dog.” He growls.

“Simon!” He hears you yell. “Y/N?”

“I found her!” You call to him. He quickly makes his way over to you, seeing you’ve got a hand on her collar. “Ugh, damn dog.” He breathes. “Home now!” He says sternly, Paisley bolts for his house immediately. “Sorry. You didn’t have to come out here.” He laughs. “I don’t mind the rain.” You laugh, walking towards your houses with him. “Not real good shoes for bad weather.” He laughs. “Oh psh these? They’re fine.” You wave your hand. “What, your boyfriend doesn’t spoil you?” He laughs. “Oh god, I don’t have a boyfriend.” You laugh. “What? Who was that guy than?”

“Uh.. well. He WAS my boyfriend. But.. it’s a long story.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.” He laughs awkwardly. “Oh it’s fine.”

“I’ve got a fire going in my house, if you wanted to dry your clothes out. You could talk about it if you want.” He shrugs. “Uhh. Sure.” You shrug. You follow him up to his back door, he opens the door up for you. You step inside and he shows you to his living room, where he had a pretty wood stove going. Lined with bricks. “Give me a moment.” His house was really nice. You wait before sitting down, not wanting to get his couch wet. “Here.” He passes you a towel and a shirt. “It’s an old shirt of mine.” He nods. “Thank you.” You smile. It’s Army Green.

He shows you to his bathroom and you change quickly, making your way back to his living room. You notice that he’s put your shoes on the tile in front of the fire to dry them out. You can’t help but smile.

He brings out tea and sets it down on his coffee table, sitting in the chair across from you. You pull his shirt down over your knees, making sure you’re covering yourself. Your panties had gotten wet and you had to take them off too. “Why did you guys break up if you don’t mind me asking?” He asks. “Uhh.” You laugh. “I found out that he was talking to a couple other girls. Meeting up with them and.. yeah.” You look down. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He breathes. You smile, looking up at him. He’s no longer wearing his mask.

“Honestly? I thought it would hurt more.” You shrug. “We.. I mean we’d been together for a long time but our relationship wasn’t serious. I didn’t really have any feelings towards the end, not after all of the things he said to me.” Ghost tilts his head. He’s curious.

“Uh..” you shift awkwardly. “I.. this is probably too much information but.. we never.. slept together. I just wasn’t into it, and he hated that I wasn’t. He said a lot of gross things to me.” You shrug. He nods his head. “How old are you?” He asks. “I’m 20.”

“How old was he?” He asks. “21.”

He smiles. “There’s your problem darling.” He laughs. “He’s just.. stupid and immature. I was at that age too. You’re too young to be worried about all of that anyways.”

You smile. “How old are you?” You ask. “32.” Your eyes widen. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, m’ an old man.” He laughs. “You do not look 32.” You smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He winks.

“You need new shoes.” He nods to them. “Uhhh. Yeah. That has to wait.” You laugh. “Hm?”

“I can barely afford my house, those shoes will just have to do. They’ve done me good.” You smile. You move to stand in front of the fire, crouching to pet Paisley who’s laying in front of it. Ghost stands up too. “How about we check you out, make sure you didn’t get into something.” He breathes, rolling paisley over onto her back. He runs his hands along her fur. Feeling that she’s fine as he stands back up. He towers over you, and now you really feel how close you are to him. “I can help you get new ones.” He nods. ��No.. that’s not your job.” You shake your head.

“Course not, you could work for it.” He smiles.

Your eyes widen. “Not- Jesus. Not like that.” He laughs. “Oh good.” You breathe out. “Had me worried for a second.” You laugh. “Got a dirty mind.” he rolls his eyes. “I mean.. if you babysit for me when I’m gone.” He nods. “I usually have her boarded at the base but.. they keep her cooped up a lot there.” He looks down at her. “Simon, I don’t mind watching Paisley. You don’t have to get me anything. She’s a good girl, I don’t mind.” You smile. He nods his head. “Thank you Y/N.” He smiles. “Of course.”

You’re warm from the fire, spinning around to warm your front. He does the same. Looking at the dancing flames through the glass. “Do you have a wife or anything?” You ask. “No.” He laughs. “My job isn’t good for relationships.” You nod your head. “Fair.” He laughs. “Why?” He asks. “I was just curious.” You say nervously. His smile is flirty, and you’re worried.

Not because he intimidates you.

You’re worried by how much you like it.

“You sure?” He looks at you, making you turn your head to look at him. “Mhm.” You smile. He takes a step toward you, making you step back.

Back hitting the wall with a gasp. “Might be overstepping here..” he laughs. “But he was stupid to fumble a girl like you.” He breathes. He’s toying with the shirt you’re wearing. You take in a shaky breath, looking up at him. “Simon.” You start. He tilts your chin to make you look him in the eyes, leaning into you. “Can I kiss you?” He asks. You part your lips, not saying a word. After a second, you nod your head.

He closes the gap right away, kissing you hard.

Your friends were going to freak when you told them.

You feel his fingertips gliding up your thigh and you gasp into his lips as he glides them over your bare opening. “Ah- Simon wait!” You breathe. Pushing him back slightly. “I.. I-“ you’re stuttering, not sure what to say. “I’m sorry, maybe I misunderstood..” he breathes. “No- no it’s not that. I.. I liked it. I just.. I’ve never done this before.” You breath, looking up at him. Your cheeks are burning, because his fingertips touching you is the first time a man has ever touched you like that. And this is only the second time you’ve ever interacted with him. “It’s alright.. I know you haven’t known me long.” He laughs. “No.. I don’t mean..” you clench your eyes closed. “I’ve never had sex before.” You sigh. He raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Oh.. well. I’m sorry I pushed you so hard, I had no idea.” He steps back.

“You didn’t. I.. I liked it.” You swallow hard.

He crosses his arms. “Have you ever been touched.. at all?” He asks. You shake your head. “Have you.. done anything at all? Like.. touched yourself?” You chew on your lip nervously. Shaking your head again. “I’ve tried but.. it’s.. weird.” You bring your hands behind your back. “It’s not weird, not if you’re doing it right.” He looks at you. The room is dark, the lights are dim and the fire illuminates it slightly.

“D-do you think you could show me? W-what it feels like I mean…” You look up at him.

“Yeah, of course. Cmere.” He tilts his head, reaching his hand out for you to take. He walks around his couch, pulling you with him. “Go ahead.” You sit down. “Lay back sweetheart.” He nods. You’re nervous as you lay back. “If you don’t like what I’m doing, if you want me to stop at all, you tell me okay?” He says. “Of course.” You nod.

He pushes the Army Green shirt up over your hips, you’re bare. Wearing nothing underneath.

He glides his hand up your thighs, feeling you shiver as he does. His fingertips gliding over your exposed flesh, rubbing over your opening. When he touches your clit, you flinch away from him. He forgets that you’re untouched.

Sensitive, easily stimulated. He chuckles. “Relax. You’re tense.” He breathes. He moves himself over you, pressing his thigh right up against your opening, hearing a gasp from your lips. He lowers himself on top of you, pressing his lips to yours again. You kiss him sloppily, cheeks flushed, your tummy feels warm as he rocks his thigh into you. You whine into his lips, raising your hips to meet him.

He pulls away from you, kissing your chin and down your neck, pushing the shirt up and over your chest. Exposing every part of you to him. The first man to ever see such sensitive parts of you. He attaches his lips to your nipple, hearing you gasp. You lift your hips into him, wanting more. But he takes his time with you. You’ve never felt this way, never been so turned on before. He finishes showing your nipples attention and moves lower, leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach. You’re nervous as he moves himself between your legs. He looks up at you, leaving a kiss to your thigh. One kiss to your swollen clit and you were done.

You let your head fall back, he pushes his hands up his couch, entwining his fingers with yours as he spreads your folds with his tongue. It takes just a few minutes and you’re crying his name out in the perfect symphony. Your stomach is moving with the way you’re panting and you can barely hold still. He moves his hands away from yours, holding your hips down. Sucking and lapping at your clit, pushing his tongue into you slightly. It’s an unfamiliar feeling. You can feel something building. “S-Simon. Feels funny.” You whimper, lifting yourself up to rest on your elbows. Watching him eat your pussy like it’s the sweetest ice cream he’s ever had.

You feel his fingertips gliding over your entrance, and you gasp when he pushes one inside of you. Curling it right into your spongy spot. You can’t hold yourself together, especially not when he adds another finger, scissoring them. A cry leaves your lips, it’s a desperate moan. Something that tells him that you’re just about to cum. You can’t say anything which is what he wants, he’s cornering you right into pure bliss, leaving you nowhere to go. It feels like your body bursts into flames when he works your pussy to an orgasm. The first of many that he’s going to give you. Your eyes are full of tears and clench shut as he works you through your orgasm. Until you’re sensitive and squirming. He finally pulls away from you, moving himself above you again, kissing you, letting you taste yourself on him. You’re breathing hard when you pull away, looking up at him. Like he’s just killed an army in your honor.

“How do you feel?” He asks. Your lips are parted, you want to say something but you can’t. He chuckles at your trance-like state. “It’s alright. I know it’s a lot.” He smiles, pulling the shirt down to cover you. Pulling you up until you’re sitting up to look at him. “I feel good.” You finally say, cheeks burning. “Good, I hope so.”

Your eyes are lost in him and he says something but you don’t even hear it.

He waves in front of your eyes, chuckling when you flinch away. Shaking yourself out of your thoughts. “You alright, space cadet? I wasn’t too much was I?” He laughs. “No.. no.” You giggle, “sorry.” You blush. “First time is always intense. I get it.” He smiles. Leaning into you. “Can’t wait to see how spacey you’ll be when I fuck that pussy for the first time.”

You swallow hard, eyes clenching shut. You’re quiet.

A laugh is what makes you open your eyes. “I’m only kidding. Relax.” He stands up. “Unless you want me to of course.” He winks at you.

“I know you have work tomorrow, I’m keeping you up.” He laughs. “Let’s get these shoes on you and I’ll walk you home.” He smiles. He kneels down onto one knee, reaching out for one of your shoes. It’s dry and warm.

You’re surprised at first.

He’s actually putting shoes on you, like you’re some kind of princess.

He helps you up, throwing one of his jackets over you and holding your clothes. The storm has passed now, it’s only dark. When you reach your front porch, he passes you your clothes. “I can go change and give you your shirt back.” You stutter when you say. He’s making you nervous. “Don’t worry about it. Keep it. It looks better on you anyways.” He smiles. You blush, looking down. “Thank you, for helping me find Paisley.”

“Of course. I don’t mind at all.” You smile. “Um.. t-thank you for um..”

“You don’t have to thank me for that.” He laughs. “Sorry..” you blush. “It’s alright. Get some sleep.” He smiles.

You smile. “Goodnight Simon.”

“Goodnight Y/N.” He nods. “Oh.. wait. Can I have your phone number? Since you’re willing to watch Paisley for me.” He playing his eagerness off. “Yeah of course.” You smile, walking toward your couch where you had left your phone. You pick it up and walk back to the door where he was waiting, passing it to him. He types his phone number into your phone and sends himself a text with it. “Awesome. Thank you Y/N. Goodnight now.” He smiles.

“Goodnight Simon.”

—

“You seem to be in a good mood LT.” Soap smiles.

“Something going on at home?” He smirks.

Ghost rolls his eyes. “Not now Soap.” He rolls his eyes.

“Who’s the girl, you’ve been checking your phone every 10 minutes.” He crosses his arms. Ghost sighs. “It’s my neighbor. I asked if she’d watch my dog. Stop being weird.” He shoves passed Soap. “Aw Cmon. I’m your friend.” Soap scoffs. “I tell you everything. I’ve never seen you act this way before.”

Ghost sighs. “Alright fine. Yeah, something happened between us and I don’t know what to think of it. But she’s kind’ve way out of my league.” He mumbles. “What do you mean by that?”

“She’s 20.”

Soaps eyes widen. “Jesus. A tad bit young don’t you think.” Ghost looks at him unimpressed. “She’s been my neighbor for a while, I thought she was older.” He shrugs. Soap laughs. “Nah, women just mature way before men do.” Ghost snorts. “Yeah. Well.. what I did with her last night I can’t really come back from.” He laughs. “Did you sleep with her?” Simon shakes his head. “No.. but. I don’t want to talk about it. Paisley got her paw stuck in her fence a few weeks back and I went out to check on her and she was helping her. Last night, Paisley didn’t come back when I let her out, so I stopped by and asked her if she’d seen her and she said no, but offered to help me look for her.” He shrugs. “So.. if you did stuff with her, why didn’t you have sex with her?” Ghost flinches. “She.. uh.” He laughs nervously. “She’s a Virgin.”

Soap’s eyes are wide. “Christ. You’ve got yourself into quite the situation Ghost.” He laughs. “Yeah. You’ll have to see her.” He mumbles. “Take me with you when you drop Paisley off for a mission sometime.” Soap crosses his arms. Simon laughs. “Alright. If you insist Johnny.”

“I’m good at reading people, I’ll tell you if she’s good for you.”

“She’s not good for me, I haven’t felt like this in forever.” Soap raises his eyebrows, a smug look on his face. “That means she’s good for you. You’re supposed to feel happiness.” He rolls his eyes. Ghost laughs. “It’s bad for a man like me. I’ve lost everyone, makes me vulnerable.” He mumbles. “So don’t lose this one.” Soap pats his shoulder.

Ghost shakes his head. “It’s never been in my control. But.. me being vulnerable, means that I can be very dangerous. So let’s hope this goes alright.”

—

“You WHAT?” She yells from the other end of the phone, you can hear her coughing violently on her coffee. “Uh.. yeah.”

“Did you have sex?” She asks. “What? No. He just.. he. We didn’t have sex.” You blush. “What’s gotten into you?” She squeals, making you laugh. “I don’t know. I guess I just really like him.” You bite your lip. “Damn. Who would’ve guessed. A 32 year old in the military is your type.” She laughs. “I know right. I don’t know. He’s.. ugh.” You sigh. “I’ve talked to him twice ever, and he’s already been so much fucking nicer to me than Wesley. I just.. don’t even know what to say.” You laugh. “That’s how you’re supposed to be treated Y/N.” She laughs. “Maybe he’ll be really good for you. Maybe you’ll get married and have a bunch of kids.” She snorts. You roll your eyes. “Whatever. I have to get back to work.” You mumble. “We’re not done talking about this. You’re telling me every detail later.” She mumbles through the phone, making you laugh. “We’ll see.” You say before hanging up.

You bite your lip.

You can’t stop thinking about the night before. What he said to you.

“Can’t wait to see how spacey you’ll be when I fuck that pussy for the first time.”

Your stomach turns and you feel yourself getting wet just from the thought of it. You needed to get your mind off of this. You stand up, heading outside to find something to do.

You’re sure you could find some yard work of some kind to do.

You look around your house, noticing the patch of grass by your driveway was mixing with gravel. You head back inside, changing into more comfortable clothes to do this task. Not paying any mind to whos eyes may be on you. Simon was meant to be at work anyways. You get a rake, raking the gravel back into it’s dedicated location. You needed to plant more grass seed, maybe line it with some spare bricks to keep the gravel away from it. It’d keep Paisley away from the fence to avoid getting her paw stuck. Simon really needed to fence his yard in to keep her inside. Although she was a pretty large dog, she’d probably just jump over it. You’re carrying bricks when Simon pulls up, Soap is in his passenger seat. “Is that her?” Soap asks. “Oh.. yeah. I guess so. I thought she was supposed to work today.” He mumbles. “Guess I’ll get to meet her sooner than later.” He smiles. You’ve got your ear buds in, not paying any attention. “We’re just checking on Paisley, get your head out of the gutter.” Ghost mumbles. As soon as Simon opens the door, Paisley bolts to your house. “Oh Jesus Christ, seriously!” He mumbles. Paisley attacking you with kisses, jumping on you catches you off guard.

“Oh my gosh!” You laugh. Turning your face to avoid her sloppy kisses. Simon and Soap approach, and you’re petting Paisley. “Hi darling, I’m glad to see you’re okay after your great escape.” You smile. When you glance up and see Simon walking toward you, another man behind him. “Thought you were supposed to be at work?” Simon asks.

“Ah, a bunch of offices flooded last night in the storm, mine included. So I’ve got a couple weeks off while they renovate.” You smile. “Ah, paid I hope?” He laughs. “Oh yeah. I would be out looking for another job otherwise.” You laugh. “That’s good though, a nice break.”

Ghost looks at Soap. “We just stopped by to check on Paisley. This is Soap by the way.” He nods. You look confused. “Did you say Soap?” You ask, looking at him. Soap laughs. “My name is Johnny, but you can call me Soap.” He nods, reaching his hand out. You take it, shaking his hand. Ghost feels jealousy boiling through him when he touches you. He doesn’t like that. “Civilians don’t get the nickname, Ghost.” Soap judges him. You tilt your head. “Ghost?” You smile, crossing your arms. “Nice. A weird duo but I like it.” You laugh. “I like the Mohawk too, don’t see that haircut much anymore.” You nod. “Thanks.” He smiles. “Oh no, don’t go giving the bloke a big head.” Simon rolls his eyes. “Whatever, I’m gonna go find Paisley. She’s nicer than you.” Soap rolls his eyes. “Nice meeting you, lass.” He smiles. “Nice meeting you too.” You wave.

Simon lingers behind. “Why’re you not relaxing?” He laughs. You blush, looking down. “Can’t sit down for too long or I’ll think about what you said last night.” You laugh. “Ah. That makes sense.” He laughs. “I can give you something else to think about if you want.” He chuckles. “Jesus Christ.” You roll your eyes.

“I think Soap is getting impatient, Ghost.” You call him by his nickname and he freezes up. He laughs. “Don’t call me that. Not unless you’re moaning it.” He turns to walk away from you, hearing you laugh. Mumbling a ‘Jesus’ under your breath.

—

As he works, training new recruits, helping out anywhere he can, preparing for missions. He thinks about you.

The jealousy he felt earlier with Soap, it worries him. He’s getting too close to you. He knows it. The last time he did this, he got hurt. Irreversible damage to him that he still suffers from. He needs to stay away from you, but he fears it’s too late.

You’re so kind. Naive in a good way almost.

You’re so nice, so sweet. Even Paisley likes you.

He can’t focus on work without thinking about you. Zoning out as he loads everything up. The way that you sounded with his face buried between your thighs, he thinks about how you’ll sound when he-

He groans out in frustration, earning a couple glances. He throws down the wrench he’s holding, cursing under his breath.

Soap and Captain Price exchange a worried glance as he storms off.

Soap can’t help but laugh when he’s gone, the door shut and latched behind him. “Something going on with him?” Captain Price asks. “Yeah, a girl.” He snickers. “Ah. Trouble in paradise?”

“No.” He laughs. “She’s his neighbor and they aren’t.. anything just yet. But I guess he had an encounter with her.” Captain Price nods. “Women. They’ll do that to ya.” He laughs, picking up the box of ammo and walking to the back of the Humvee. “Tell me about it.” Johnny smiles, digging through the box of tools.

Captain Price sets down the box of ammo in the back of the vehicle, swiping his hands off together to get the dust off of them. “Suppose I’ll go talk to ‘im.” Captain Price mutters as he makes his way into the office that Simon had gone into. He opens the door, seeing him sitting at the desk. He’s got a water bottle in front of him and it’s already almost gone. “You alright Simon?” Price sits down in the chair across from him. Hearing Simon sigh. “M’fine Price.” He mumbles. “Johnny told me a bit about your troubles.” He smiles. Ghost rolls his eyes at this. “It’s alright, maybe we can talk about it. Maybe it’ll make you feel better.” He shrugs. “What, is this a therapy session?” He jokes. Earning a snort from his Captain. “I’m serious, I’m a wise old man with a lot of advice.” He smiles, setting his hands in his lap. The dad energy that Price gives off warms Simon’s heart in a way. “I don’t know. She’s my neighbor and she’s a lot younger than me.” He sighs. “I just think I’m going to end up getting myself into something dumb with her.”

“Well.. what’s she like?”

“I.. I mean she’s nice. She lives on her own. She.. said that she just got out of a relationship.” He sighs. “Oh? Did she say why?”

“He cheated on her because she wasn’t ready to… take the next step with him.” Ghost shrugs. “Hm.. do you know anything about her background? How responsible she is?”

Ghost shakes his head. “Not really. I’ve only talked to her twice but the second time.. we were alone and things escalated.” He mumbles. “So.. you had sex?”

“No.” Ghost laughs. “She’s.. a Virgin.”

Captain Price’s eyes widen, and he shifts uncomfortably. “How old did you say she was?” He asks.

“20.”

Captain Price nods his head. “Hm.. well. What does she do in her spare time? Do you know?”

“She.. mostly just works so that she can pay her bills and hangs out with her friends.” He shrugs. “Do you know where she works?” Simon nods. “A bookkeeper for a construction company. She’s worked there since she was eighteen.” He nods.

“So.. she’s got a stable job.. can take care of herself.. she seems really mature.” Price shrugs. “I know it seems weird that she’s so young, but women mature a lot faster than men.” Captain Price nods. “You’re both consenting adults, who are responsible and can take care of yourselves.. I know you’re afraid of being hurt.” Captain Price sits up. “But you’ll never find your forever if you don’t put yourself out there and be vulnerable for others.” He smiles. Simon nods his head. “I know.”

“You’ll have to bring her around, let me judge her myself.” He smiles. Earning a snort from Simon. “Yeah, Johnny said the same thing.”

Price stands up, patting Simon on the shoulder as he goes to exit. “You’ll never know until you try, Simon. Don’t give up just yet.” He nods.

Simon sighs when the door closes behind him. What the hell was he getting himself into.

Later that day, Simon had come home. He didn’t see you and decided to leave everything be for now. Deciding to watch a show and drink a beer. Give himself time to relax, as bad as he wants to spend this time with you. He sighs, hearing Paisley scratching at the door, whining. She’s pacing back and fourth. “It’s probably just a Racoon. Down girl.” He breathes. But she doesn’t calm down. “Paisley, please. Give it a rest darling. I’ve just let you out.” He groans.

Nothing seems to calm her. He stands up, setting his beer down. He makes his way over to the kitchen to discard his empty beer bottles, setting them by his sink. He glances up through his kitchen window for a second, when something catches his attention.

You’re talking to a guy.

Not just any guy either, your ex-boyfriend. Ghost feels himself stiffen up, eyes narrowing as he looks outside the window. It seems as if you’re having a normal conversation with him. Ghost quickly moves to the back door, cracking it open and holding Paisley back as she tries to force her way outside. “Stop, sit.” He growls.

“Look.. I’m sorry okay? I miss you.” He hears him say it. Ghost can feel himself tensing up. "You need to leave. I won't ask you again." You breathe. "And if I don't?" He sighs. "What are you going to do hm? Nobody will come for you. You're just a stupid girl Y/N." He can hear him. He can hear you laugh. "Go." He hears you growl. "I'll tell the neighbor if you don't go." Simon's smile is too wide upon hearing that. "The neighbor? What, are you friends now?" He hears him scoff. "Come on, let's just talk baby, I can take your mind off things for a while."

"Simon!" You yell, Simon stands up immediately, ripping his door open and stepping outside. He can see that he's got a strong grip on your upper arm. When he sees Simon step down the few concrete stairs, he lets go. "Seriously?" He can hear him scoff. "She doesn't need you, go back inside and mind your own fucking business." He growls. Simon makes his way across his lawn, crossing the gravel of your driveway. "She is my business. She is now." He crosses his arms. "And if you want to leave here in one piece, I suggest you get back in your car and drive as far away as you can." He says it casually. "Yeah? Or else what?" He asks, making Simon raise his shirt up over his hip, not only does he expose his insanely fit body and v-line, but there's a pearl gripped pistol sitting in his waistband. A whistle leaves his lips and Paisley bursts out of his house, bolting to stand next to him at attention, staring your ex-boyfriend down. "Go." Simon nods.

He scoffs, shaking his head. "What, you fucking him?" He looks at you, teeth gritted behind his pursed lips, you glance at Simon before looking back to the ground, swallowing hard. "Some virgin huh?" He shakes his head. "This is fucking stupid, don't even know why I bothered with you." He growls. He walks down the concrete path by your door, walking around and climbing into his car, speeding off. "Go home." Simon mumbles to Paisley. "Hey. You okay?" He asks. You nod your head. "Yeah.." You shake your head. "I'm fine. Just.. yeah." You breathe. "Cmon, I'll make you some tea." He tilts his head for you to follow him. You nod your head, following after him. He leads you into his back door, closing it behind you. You notice Paisley laying in her bed in the living room. "I didn't think you'd be able to hear me." You breathe. "Was worried for a second." You laugh nervously. "Paisley was stressed out, kept harassing me. I happened to notice.” He mumbles. “You were listening?” You ask. “Just.. making sure nothing happened. Suppose it’s a good thing I was though.” He reaches up into his cupboard, shirt rising until you could see the Pistol grip.

You’ve never been more sure of anything in your life.

“Simon?” You say, stepping closer to him. “Yeah?” He asks, turning to face you. Once he’s close enough, you lean in, kissing him hard, cupping his cheeks so that he can’t pull away. “W-woah.” He breathes. “Are you okay?” He asks. “Just kiss me.” You pant. He sets everything he has in his hand down, returning his lips to yours and moving you so that he could pin you up against the countertop, feeling you moan into his mouth. He reaches down, grasping the back of your thighs and lifting you up until you’re on the countertop. You rest your hands on the countertop, pushing your hips forward. Like you wanted him.

“What’s gotten into you?” He asks. You pull away, looking at him, reaching forward and raising his shirt up. Getting a good look at his gun. “Nobody’s ever done that for me before.” You look up at him, taking a deep breath. “What? Told some scumbag off?” He laughs. “Defended me.” You breathe. “Seriously? Not ever?” He asks. You shake your head. “Please keep kissing me, Simon.” You whine. He leans into you, kissing you again. Stiffening up when he feels your hand on him through his jeans. He groans into his lips when you palm him hard through them. He pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. “Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?” He breathes. “Yes.” You whine. You sit up, reaching with both of your hands to unbuckle his belt.

He reaches down, hand gripping onto the cool metal of the pistol, setting it down on the countertop. Leaning in to kiss your neck as you pulled his belt apart and started on his jeans. You can’t help but glance at the gun as it sits there. You’re starting to realize just what kind of man Simon is.

A strong military man. A guarded one at that. He’s nice but gruff, quiet and observing. And something you’ve noticed since meeting him, since Paisley got stuck in your fence.

He’s protective of what’s his.

“Simon.” You pant. “What baby?” He breathes.

“I want you.” You breathe. “But.. you.. you’re..” he looks down between the both of you.

“Please, I want you to take my virginity.” You whine. Pushing your hips out. He takes in a deep breath. “Are you sure?” He asks. You nod your head. He pushes his pants down his thighs just enough to reveal himself to you, hearing you sigh when you see the size of him. “S’alright. Will only hurt a minute.” He moves closer to you. He tugs your pants down, discarding them to the side somewhere. Seeing all of you once again. He spits in his hand, focusing it on the tip of his cock. “Are you sure? Once I take it, it’s gone.” He breathes. “I trust you. I want you to take it.” You pant. He pushes your legs open, getting a good look at you. “Just relax for me.” Your heart is racing and he can hear it thumping in your chest from where he stands.

“If you let me do this..” he trails off, circling your opening with his fingers again, going to take his time stretching you out before he takes what’s rightfully his. “You’re mine.” He leans into you. Lips ghosting over your throat, right where your jugular vein sits beneath the surface. “Simon.” You breathe out.

“I think I was always yours.” You look him in the eyes, watching him stiffen at your sentence. Eyes darkening as he stares at you. “Fuck.” He growls, gritting his teeth. He presses the tip of his cock up against your entrance, tip pressing between your sopping wet folds. He forces you to look at him, taking his time thrusting every inch into you. He holds your throat, not cutting off your oxygen but just enough to hold you still. When your eyes flick down to watch him sink into you, he growls. “Look at me.” He growls. “Keep looking at me.”

“Simon.. it hurts.”

“I know baby.” He breathes. “S’alright, just for a minute. One minute.” He pants. You’re so tight on him, he can barely contain himself. He finally closes his eyes, sighing out as he bottoms out inside of you, hearing you cry out. He leans into you, holding you steady as he slides out, rocking his hips into you. “It’s alright. I know it hurts.” He takes in a sharp breath, hating that you hurt so bad, but he felt so fucking good. He keeps a slow, steady pace. Letting you adjust to him. He notices a little bit of blood, but it doesn’t bother him any.

“Simon..” you’re breathless when you say it. “Hm?”

“Fuck me.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I can take it, please.” You hiss, pushing your hips into him.

He wraps his arms around your waist, holding you tight as he rocks his hips into yours faster, a little harder than before. Pushing your legs up as he slides deeper into you, hearing a gasp leave your lips. “Oh my god-“ you breathe.

He keeps up this pace for a few minutes, letting you get used to him. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you.

“How does it feel huh?” He pants, voice unsteady and desperate.

“‘M fucking your pussy.” He hisses, feeling you tighten around him. “Took your virginity.” He breathes. “How’s it feel?” He smiles. “It- it feels so good.” You whine. ”I feel so full Simon.” You hiccup with watery eyes. “Yeah? That’s how you’re supposed to feel. Supposed to feel overwhelmed and good.” He chuckles. He rests his hands on the undersides of your thighs, gripping you and keeping your legs open for him. Smiling when he sees you gripping the countertop like your life depends on it. He lifts his shirt up more, showing off more of his toned stomach.

“Fuck!” You cry, letting your head tilt back. He’s picking up his pace, getting you so close. You can feel swirling in your stomach, feeling something building.

A pant leaves your lips and you move up, trying to adjust yourself. “Simon. Feels weird.” You gasp. He lowers his hand to rub at your sensitive clit.

Just a little bit of that and you’re crying out for him. Clenching hard around him, your pussy milking him for every bit of his spunk.

He’s panting hard, moans unsteady as he approaches his orgasm. He’s going to cum hard.

He slides out of you last second, pumping his cock until he finishes on your stomach, groaning out, his body jerking as he finishes. “Oh fuck..” he whines.

After a moment of coming down from your highs, it finally hits you. You’d really just given this man, who’s way older than you, way more experienced than you, who you aren’t even in a relationship with. Your virginity. You’re staring at him with wide eyes as he cleans your skin of his filth, making sure you’re completely clean, even wiping down between your legs. He wants you to be comfortable. He sighs when he sees your nervous appearance. “It’s alright. I know.” He breathes. “Cmon, let’s go warm up by the fire.” He breathes. Lifting you up and bringing you with him to the couch. He sets you down, throwing a blanket over you.

You’re silent for a while. Not nervous or upset, more content than anything.

Simon is so caring of you, and he barely knows you. Which tells you everything you need to know about him. That he’s going to be the best thing for you. That he’ll take care of you. He finally sits down next to you after starting the fire. Throwing an arm around you so that you could lean into his chest. “I’m sorry if I took advantage of you.” He breathes. Hearing you laugh. “You didn’t. I’m a grown woman, I know what I want.” You smile. “Well.. good.” He smiles. “I just hope you don’t want it to be a one time thing.” You mumble.

“I was wondering the exact same thing.” He breathes.

“I know you just got out of a relationship and all but.. you’re mine.”

You smile up at him. “Always.”

“Oh yes, one more thing.” He mumbles, standing up and disappearing up his stairs for a minute, returning back down holding a box.

“Here.” He smiles. You take it from him, confused. “Simon.. I told you not to get me these.” You look up at him. “Open them.”

You open the box up, noticing a brand new pair of shoes. You can’t even imagine how much they probably costed. “Simon this is way too much.” You laugh. “You need new ones, I can help out. Let’s see how they fit.” He kneels down again.

“You’re doing too much for me already.”

He scoffs. “What I’m doing is the bare minimum. You’re just used to below average darling.” He laughs, tying the laces. You can’t help but smile at this.

“Thank you Simon.” You breathe.

“Always.”

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost fanfiction #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost smut

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bunnyreaper · 3 months

Text

you don't have much of a choice, forced to marry john mactavish to keep yourself safe. luckily, he will look after you, even on your wedding night.

(18+/MDNI, historical wedding night fun)

the door closing behind you has you trapped in the room, the situation. your only comfort is that you know john mactavish to be a thoroughly decent man, despite the swirling rumours of his scottish barbarism and foul highlander ways.

you sit before the mirror, staring back at the beautiful hair and makeup done for you by the ladies of the castle in preparation for your nuptials, as john makes his way over to you. he gently, hesitantly, rests his rough, large hands on the exposed parts of your shoulders, and his new ring sparkles in the soft candlelight.

"john." you sigh your new husband's name, your eyes fluttering shut as relief floods through you at his touch. the night will bring with it challenges, but you can't think of a better man in all the highlands to be wed to.

"i know, bonnie. i wish it were nae under such circumstances." he whispers, expression soft as he squeezes you gently, forcing the tension out of your shoulders. he leans down, pressing the gentlest of kisses to the top of your head. "we can take it slow, we've go' all night."

"i know, thank you." you bring your hand up to hold his, your matching ring so close to its counterpart. you squeeze back his hand in the hopes of offering some semblance of comfort in return. whilst john is a warrior, physically and mentally strong, but you've at least seen him vulnerable enough to know there's something eating at him too--and your instincts cry out at you to soothe him too. "it's not... for lack of wanting you. i want you very much. i'd just hoped we could ease into it."

once more, he brushes the top of his lips across your head, before he slowly coaxes you to your feet. his fingers trail from your bare shoulders, down the silky material of your sleeves until they come to grasp at your waist.

"we will. ill take care of ye." he whispers, voice beyond soft.

you wish you could tell him you'll take care of him, too, but the tightening of your chest makes it tricky to usher forth even a whisper. you turn in your newly-wed husband's embrace, embracing his thick, muscular arms and rubbing them soothingly.

it's you who initiates the kiss, the first one since you said your vows, and were tied together in matrimony. it's soft and gentle and sweet, at least at first. as your lips tremble against john's, and his grip around you tightens, the embers within you roar to life--hot like the coals in your chamber's fireplace.

the passion that rips through you both consumes you--sensual, tender touches yet tinged with overwhelming need. one kiss turns to another, turns to desperately gripping at each other's finery until it falls away, revealing parts of yourself previously unseen to the other.

you'd seen your now-husband shirtless many a time, seen the celtic knots inked into his biceps, his clan motto on his chest--but in the dim light and knowing you get to touch him freely, you start to take on a new appreciation.

his hands touch reverently across each new piece of skin you bare to him, or he bares to himself, as he tears away your clothes like the hazard they are. it's not long before he has you completely revealed to him, and he kisses you breathless in response to the overwhelming love and lust inside him.

he maneuvers you to the bed, laying you down with such care before climbing atop. when his hard cock brushes against the top of your mound, you cry out in both pleasure and trepidation.

johnny must easily sense your discomfort, as he pulls away from you with a concerned, caring look in his eyes, along with a reassuring smile on his lips. "dinnae worry, i'm nervous too." his knuckles brush softly over your cheek.

"you are?" you ask, voice soft as you stare up at him.

"aye." he nods, his smile turning a little awkward, a little bashful. while you've seen him burdened and raw, you've never seen him nervous. "ive no' been wit' a woman properly before."

his admission stuns you. john mactavish is a gorgeous man inside and out, respected in his clan, and yet has a reputation for being good with the ladies. it never bothered you, as you knew truly he was loyal to his core, but such a confession from him takes you entirely by surprise.

"not from lack of opportunity, surely." you try your best to be light-hearted, to put him at ease. your own nerves, trepidation and inexperience with the act were a given--but john's could be perceived by others, and likely to him, as a threat to his masculinity.

he trusted you with it regardless.

he huffs out a laugh at your gentle teasing, dipping down to press a few kisses to your neck.

"appreciate yer kind words. but ah, i ken i wanted to save myself, only give tha' part of me to ma wife." the words cause something to surge through him, his hips bucking as the head of his cock nudges against your clit and sends you both reeling. your eyes flutter shut for a moment, and when they reopen, the look in john's eyes is completely feral.

he pins you with a look you couldn't turn away from if you tried, and his hand gripping your chin leaves no room for debate. "marriage of convenience or no', you are ma wife."

his wife.

the words alone make you shiver and quake, but your husband takes the opportunity to roam his hands down your body, lower and lower until thick fingertips find your aching clit.

you're completely transfixed as your eyes drop down, watching the way his rough hand works against your softness, pulling pleasure from your body that aches for release.

hot, open-mouthed kisses start to accompany his touches, working their way down your body until his mouth is hovering just inches away from your slit--taunting you with what's to come.

you squirm wildly, trying to chase the wet heat of your husband's mouth and to finally have it on your clit, but he simply smirks, remains steadfast and steadies you with a firm grip.

"please." a whine rips from your throat, as you've never felt such need before in your life. you thought you'd felt riled up watching john fight, work the horses, chop wood--but seeing him between your legs ready to eat you like a man starved drove you completely wild.

as a dutiful husband, he couldn't deny you any longer, lips settling against your most sensitive spot, pressing tender kisses to you.

it feels too good, and yet still not enough. your fingers thread in his hair, try to tug him in deeper. "please john, I just need you... inside."

he seems to ignore your pleading, mouth sinking back into your folds and immediately sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body. then he pulls away for a moment, staring at your pretty lips in awe before he growls. "the lady consents, but i willnae sink my cock in ye until ye weeping for me too."

#soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #call of duty x reader #call of duty fanfiction #bunny writes

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charliemwrites · 3 months

Text

Mister(s) Steal Your Girl — part 3

(I seriously need to come up with an actual name for this series before it sets in)

Introducing his grand horniness- John “Soap” MacTavish

No Content Warnings

It’s been six, coming up on seven, dates with Kyle. A dwindling part of you feared that after the absolutely mind-blowing night you two shared, he’d ghost you or something.

But nope, the morning after was spent in one of his jumpers, receiving kisses and breakfast and tea. The two of you watched movies all day until he drove you home, kissing you at the door. He let you keep his jumper.

Not three days later, he invited you to a movie you’d both been excited to see, and giggled over the popcorn bowl like teenagers. He didn’t even mind that you leaned over to whisper during certain parts, or the ramble you went on afterwards. (When you apologized for overanalyzing and talking so much, he gave you a bizarre, almost offended look. “Don’t you dare stop,” he huffed, “you’re way better than radio. What did you think about that after credit scene?”)

A few days after that, he called with apologetic news.

“Being shipped out for a couple weeks. Shouldn’t be anything too dangerous, and I’ll call when I can,” he explained.

You told the nervous little twist in your gut that you knew this about him. That this is Kyle’s job, not a convenient excuse to ignore you.

“Stay safe regardless,” you murmured earnestly into the phone. “I‘ll… I’ll miss you, Kyle.”

“You’re getting the biggest hug when I get back, darlin’,” he promised.

He kept to it too. Called at odd hours sometimes - once during dinner with your fiance even. But Brandon is always taking random calls nowadays, so you figured, given the circumstances, it’s not such a big deal to excuse yourself either.

On the other end of the call, Kyle sounded a bit tired, but happy to talk to you. He couldn’t tell you anything about what he was doing, but shared some smaller, safer details. That the tea was shite because Soap kept over-steeping it. That his lieutenant was big enough to body slam him during sparring practice. That Captain Price wishes you well and promises to bring Kyle back in one piece.

You even heard one of his teammates in the background, asking Kyle if he was “chirping at his new bird.” Soap, as you found out. They sound like a good bunch.

When Kyle comes back, you offer to welcome him at his apartment. You bring a little plate of cookies and a pack of his favorite beer, hoping it’s not too much. But when he opens the door, his expression melts before he scoops you up in the big hug he promised.

“You’re a fuckin’ dream, ya know that?” he murmurs, tucking his face against your neck.

You spend the whole weekend with him, kissing at the stitched-up knife wound on his muscled arm. Otherwise, all in one piece.

“Would you… want to meet my mates sometime?” he asks as you’re getting dressed for work Monday morning.

“Of course,” you reply instantly. Realize that might be too eager. “If you want to introduce me, that is.”

“I want to show you off to the bloody Queen, babes.”

You giggle, crossing the room to drop a quick kiss on his lips. He tries to draw you in for something deeper, but you wiggle and swat at him, complaining that he’ll make you late.

It’s good, you think. Blissfully good. Honeymoon phase, maybe, but considering how far off your actual honeymoon is, you feel like you deserve this. Kyle is a wonderful partner - kind, attentive, respectful. He listens, he cares, he’s independent of you and respects your boundaries. Sometimes you can’t believe you were ever nervous about this open relationship thing in the first place.

On Wednesday of that same week, Kyle tells you that Soap is going to visit and is eager to meet you. He was thinking dinner and drinks, come back to Kyle’s apartment afterwards. You readily agree.

The next day, a bouquet comes in. It’s a beautiful, though not extravagant, arrangement. Calla lilies, roses, and hydrangeas. The note that comes with it says, “Wanted to make a good first impression in case Kyle told you lies.” It’s signed “Johnny.”

You send a picture to Kyle, amused and a bit endeared. It brightens the rest of your day so much that you barely notice Lucy’s usual snide comments.

On Friday night, Brandon is unexpectedly home. Usually he doesn’t even come home from work on Fridays anymore - or at least he didn’t before you met Kyle. Lately, you only pop in if you’ve forgotten something for your overnight bag. You had to stay late at the office today, though, and your apartment is closer than Kyle’s.

“Was thinking we could go out tonight,” he tells you.

“Oh,” you say, taken aback. Not just by the invitation, but by the mix of emotion in your gut. Some of it is excitement and relief, but not as much as you’d expect. It’s warring with unease and reluctance, a bit of frustration that now of all times he wants to reconnect.

“Um, raincheck?” you offer, smoothing down your dress. It’s a new one you picked out with Kyle; you’re hoping he (Kyle) will notice. “I have plans.”

Brandon’s brow furrows, smile going tight. “You can’t reschedule?”

God you hate confrontation and he knows that, doesn’t he? Why is he pushing?

“Well I don’t know when I’ll get to see them again,” you explain.

Suddenly the tension in his shoulders eases. “Oh, is it a few people then?”

“Just a couple. I’m meeting one of them for the first time.”

“Have fun then,” he says, fishing his phone from his pocket. Like you’re not even there anymore.

You blink, then your phone buzzes with a message from Kyle and you hurry out the door.

“I knew you’d look terrific in that dress,” he says as soon as he sees you.

Thoughts of Brandon, that strange interaction, and those churning feelings all disappear in an instant. Kyle just has a way of soothing you.

The restaurant is one that has quickly become one of your favorites with Kyle. Good food, good drinks, quiet and relaxed atmosphere. You like the funky artwork and squishy booths.

Soap (Johnny?) has already gotten your party a table, and stands as the two of you approach. You nearly stop right there, and then almost trip a bit as momentum urges you onwards. Manage not to make a fool of yourself, but you still boggle at him.

Because Kyle? You thought he was a fluke. Just too handsome to be real, never mind tall and fit and friendly and— well, anyway.

You thought he was a fluke.

But Soap/Johnny is goddamn handsome too! Trim stubble, pretty eyes behind thick lashes, a soft-looking Mohawk that gives him a boyish charm without seeming immature.

“There you two are, thought ye stood me up!” he greets, drawing Kyle into one of those friendly man-hugs with the shoulder pats that look like they hurt.

“Youre a cheap date anyway, MacTavish,” Kyle replies, gently easing you forward with a hand on the small of your back.

“Och, don’t bad mouth me in front of a lady,” Johnny/Soap complains, then turns his twinkling gaze to you and offers a hand. “John MacTavish, but this bampot calls me Soap.”

“Not Johnny?” you ask curiously.

You take his hand, find callouses similar to Kyle’s. But his palm is a bit broader, a scar along his thumb - from a burn it looks like. Just as warm, just as careful. A firm, but not tight shake.

“You can call me anything you like, lass,” he says. From the corner of your eye, you see Kyle choking back a laugh. Johnny it is, you figure.

“Wait ‘Soap’ is a callsign right?” you ask as Kyle herds you into the booth.

“Right-o,” Johnny replies, smiling.

“Does Kyle have one?”

The grin that he gives you would make the devil sweat. As it is, Kyle groans and shoots you a betrayed look.

“Oh does he, lass.”

You light up, grin right back. “Tell me?”

“As if I could say no to a pretty face like that!”

And so begins a long, warm, perfect night. Johnny is great company. Welcoming and friendly, quick to smile, sharp witted. You could sit all night listening to him and Kyle quip at each other, but they’re so careful to keep you included and engaged.

Johnny even offers you some of his chips when his order comes, and you’re too delighted to say no. Not that Kyle seems to mind, encouraging you to steal a couple for him since Johnny keeps whacking his hand away.

The night ends back at Kyle’s. You whip up another batch of cookies with some suspiciously new-looking baking ingredients. The boys keep you company while you work — Kyle mixes the batter when your arm gets tired and Johnny keeps your wine glass full. In the end, you let them each get a lick of the dough spoon.

Eventually, you move to the couch, climb on together. Kyle, for some reason, scooches you into the middle instead of one of the ends, but you don’t mind and neither does Johnny, it seems. They argue over a movie to put on, but it doesn’t matter because the three of you talk through most of it anyway.

The second movie is your pick, which is your downfall. You barely get halfway through before dozing off. End up stirring to muffled laughter and harsh whispering. You’ve slumped into Johnny, you realize, seeing Kyle’s broad smile.

“Oh,” you hum, trying to sit up. “‘M sorry…”

“You’re alright, lass,” Johnny murmurs, gently nudging you back down.

“Kyle?” you ask, yawning.

“Still watching the movie, sweetheart. You can go back to your nap. Soap’s nice and warm, yeah?”

You hum, snuggle in again. He is comfy. “So are you.”

Another quiet chuckle. “I know, love.”

He rouses you later — the movie must be over, you think blearily. Kyle scoops you up, plants a kiss on your cheek as you tuck in.

“Say good night to your teddy bear, baby.”

“‘Night, Johnny,” you mumble, nuzzling your face into Kyle’s neck.

“‘Night, bonnie.”

You wake first the next morning — rare and precious. Kyle is lying behind you snoring softly, arm around your waist. You wiggle around to watch his sleeping face for a minute, appreciating the peace in his features. Drop a whisper-soft kiss on his cheek and then slip out of bed.

He grumbles a bit, but you coo at him to go back to sleep and he subsides quickly. Once you’ve freshened up in the bathroom, you pad out to the living room. Johnny is up as well, watching tv on low volume with a coffee on his knee.

“Mornin’,” he says.

“Good morning,” you chirp back, continuing for the kitchen.

“You’re up early,” he observes, following.

“Slept well,” you reply, grinning. “Thanks in part to you. I hope that wasn’t uncomfortable.”

He ducks his head a bit, a light flush blooming across his ears and cheeks. “Nah, can’t complain about a pretty girl fallin’ asleep on me. Means I must have made a good impression, eh?”

“Oh! That reminds me - those flowers were gorgeous. Did you know calla lilies are my favorite?”

“Aye, Kyle’s been talkin’ about ya nonstop since ye met.”

It’s your turn to flush, and much brighter. You hurriedly turn to the cabinets.

“Well, thank you. I loved them.”

“Yeah? I’ll send you more then.”

Startled, you whip around on him, mouth stupidly open as you try to find a response. “You really don’t have to do that!”

“But what if I want to?”

And if you were struggling for words before, you’re hopeless now. So you just throw your hands up with a little “gah” sound and turn back to gathering ingredients.

“What are we making?” Johnny asks, taking mercy on you. Not that using that sly “we” isn’t devastating to your composure.

“My super special flapjack recipe,” you answer. “Could you get that big bowl down for me?”

He steps past you to do so while you dig out the measuring spoons from the dishwasher.

“If they’re as good as your cookies, then I’m gonna need extra PT after this weekend.”

“Good,” you reply, smug, “that’s my goal.”

“Dangerous woman.”

You snort, holding up a wooden spoon. “Oh yeah, I’m a real threat brandishing cooking utensils at a special ops guy.”

“Och, don’ sell yourself short - my nan used to be a menace with those things!”

Kyle exits the bedroom fifteen minutes later to the smell of cinnamon and his best friend with a face full of flour.

“…Do I even want to know?”

“Just be glad she’s on our side, Garrick.”

#cod #thoughts™️#my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #misters steal your girl #get it? misters plural. because they all steal that girl #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #johnny mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #Brandon the crash dummy

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