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[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

As you might have guessed from my recent absence, my mental health is in severe decline yet again~ 🙃🙃🙃

Currently calling customer service to file a complaint...

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

TW: Rape, TW: Sexual Assault, TW: Knife play, TW: Groping, TW: Drugging, TW: Kidnapping, TW: Forced Sex/Orgasm

Authors note: This is the darkest chapter in this story by far. So, if any of the above are not your cup of tea, please don't read this chapter. I truly don't want to trigger anyone.

Ghost POV:

As he crept through the thick foliage of the forest, Ghost chuckled at how easy this was proving to be. It was almost as if she had left a trail of flashing signs in her wake, each one blaring "I went this way! Come get me!". Her tiny little footprints stood out so clearly against the fallen branches and leaves. And she had disturbed enough tall grass to make her trajectory crystal clear.

Ghost crouched as he approached a fallen tree limb, carefully inspecting the story its markings retold. A short streak of shredded leaves crested over its rounded edge. Two large indentations dug into the earth immediately beyond it. And a messy pile of scattered leaves and dirt was right just ahead, bearing a print that resembled an outstretched hand.

She'd tripped and fallen here. So focused on what could be behind her that she neglected to look ahead. Ghost could almost taste her fear lingering in the air. The sweat on her skin as she pushed herself to exhaustion. She was wearing herself out. Good.

Reader POV:

The forest was so dark, you had to squint to see anything at all. It took a while for your eyes to begin to adjust, and you had plenty of cuts and scrapes to prove it. But once they had, you continued your frantic sprint through the seemingly endless forest.

You were never much of an outdoors person. The idea of voluntarily abandoning the comfort and convenience of home was the opposite to fun in your mind. So, when your parents had once tried to talk you into doing a wilderness survival youth camp, you'd shot them down without a thought. Little did you know, years later, you'd be kicking yourself for not jumping at the chance. Knowing how to find your way would have been really useful at the present moment.

Regardless, you pressed on. Any direction was fine by you as long as it was away from Ghost. He was probably already on the move by now, tracking you like a nightmarish hunter. So you tried to be both as fast and stealthy as possible.

It didn't take long before your legs began to tire, though. You'd maintained a near full sprint from the second you'd gotten out of his car. But you still couldn't see anything but trees as far as you could see.

As frustration set in, you decided it was time to change strategy and switch from escaping to hiding. Slowing to a stop, you scanned your surroundings in search of any cover whatsoever. The forest had gone quiet. Too quiet. So, wherever you decided to hide, you needed to find it fast.

Off to your right, there was a small cluster of bushes. Their leaves looked thick enough to conceal your form just enough in the darkness. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough. If you could just hang on until he wandered past you in his search, maybe you could double back and steal the jeep. Mind made up, you crept over towards your chosen hiding spot.

Out of nowhere, the steady silence was broken by the sound of a dislodged pebble bouncing off a nearby tree. You dropped to a low crouch, head whipping in the sound's direction. You couldn’t see anything, but that didn't mean he wasn't out there somewhere. It wasn’t until a full minute had passed without another sound that you moved again. You just had to get to those bushes.

Ghost POV:

Just as he'd anticipated, Ghost caught up with her in not much time at all. In her panic, she'd unknowingly zigzagged her way all over the place and likely believed she'd gotten much farther than she actually had. He moved like his namesake, floating through the darkness like a silent and deadly specter. The thought of having her to himself was plenty to speed him along his way. But the adrenaline rush of the hunt made it that much more exhilarating. When he finally spotted her, she was hunched over in a small clearing. He knelt into the brush and watched as she stood there, heaving for breath and clearly unsure of what to do next. Eyes now locked on his target, he switched his night vision goggles into thermal mode. He wanted details. Her silhouette came through in a bright collage of reds and oranges. Her body temp was high. And her respiratory and heart rates had spiked too. The numbers don't lie. She was nice and scared, as she should be.

After silently spectating for a bit, Ghost noticed her heart rate slow ever so slightly as she began moving towards a small clump of bushes. So she'd found a hiding spot. He smirked and grabbed a small rock. Without making a sound, he sent it flying through the air until it clattered against a tree behind her. The way she dove for cover and whipped her head around was quite entertaining. And just like that, her pulse spiked right back up again.

"Can't have you getting too relaxed, now can we?" Ghost mused, grabbing another rock. He patiently waited until she moved again. And as soon as she did, he took aim at a tree in an entirely different direction than the first and let it fly.

Reader POV:

Your head was on a swivel now as you fought the impending panic. Every time you thought the coast was clear, you'd hear something else. And every sound was coming from different directions! It couldn't be him. There's no way he could've caught you that quickly after such a head start!

But despite your logic, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was somewhere just beyond your field of view. Abandoning the thought of hiding, you jumped to your feet and took off running all over again. But you had barely taken your second stride when something large and heavy slammed against your back.

A pair of muscled arms locked around your waist as your legs were roughly kicked out from beneath you. You landed on your knees, immediately clawing at the air behind you to grab any part of him that you could reach.

"No!" The word came out of you in a shrill cry of desperation. It was blood curdling. It was raw. "Ghost, please!"

Those words were all you could produce. You kicked and screamed as he wrestled you to the ground, forcing your face into the dirt.

"Don't be a sore loser now," Ghost chuckled, flipping you onto your back and forcing his body between your legs. "You had your chance. You lost. Game over."

You squirmed, arms flailing in a feeble attempt to hit him. But he was quick to respond, grabbing them both at the wrist and pinning them above your head. He effortlessly held them in place with one hand as he sat back, enjoying your helpless state below him.

"Now," he said, roughly shoving your dress up to your waist. "Let's see what I've won."

A muffled sob escaped your lips as the cool night air washed over your bare lower half. You could practically feel the heat of his gaze as his eyes flitted down to where your thighs met. Through his mask, he grabbed the fabric of his glove and slipped it off before tossing it away. Maintaining steady eye contact, he slipped his hand between your legs. His skin felt cold against your skin as he prodded at your exposed sex.

"Well, well, well," he murmured, running the back of his knuckles over your sensitive folds. "Look who's already nice and wet for me. Does König know what a dirty girl you really are?"

You snarled with fear and fury, twisting your legs to kick him. But you soon found yourself arching your back with a gasped whimper as his fingers plunged into your depths without warning. He met your eyes unflinchingly, almost defiantly, determined not to miss even the smallest detail of your response.

"I don't want this," you moaned, resisting the twinge of pleasure you felt as his fingers repeatedly curled inside you.

"You really think you can lie to me right now?" He smirked, lifting his thumb to torment your clit as his fingers began thrusting into you. "Your greedy little cunt was practically dripping before I'd even touched you. No, you want this. You want me to hurt you. And I'm gonna hurt you so good, princess."

You couldn’t fight him. And you couldn't stop your body from translating his heated assault into the beginnings of arousal. All you could do was tremble at his touch as his fingers drove into the most sensitive places with deadly precision. And every moan his actions produced only seemed to spur him on.

As his fingers continued pushing in and out of your core, he released your wrists and produced a small knife. You immediately tried and failed to inch yourself away from him, fearing he would use it to maim or even kill. But you froze as he leaned forward and pressed the blade against your throat. Never in your life had you been so still, afraid even the slightest breath would cause the blade to slip below the surface of your skin.

Ghost pushed the blade down with measured pressure, stopping just after a drop of blood welled up at the knife's edge. But he didn't press any further. Instead, he trailed the knife down the length of your body. The blade cut through the front of your dress like butter, but Ghost still made sure to nick your skin every now and then along the way. And you didn't need clarification on his unspoken threat. He could kill you a million ways without remorse or hesitation. It wouldn't take much.

Just as quickly as it had appeared, the knife vanished back into his vest as he returned his full attention to forcing his fingers as deep into your body as they could go. He spread them, experimentally stretching you out. But he let out a hissed moan as your body instinctively resisted, clenching tightly around his fingers.

"Bloody hell, you're tight. I bet he liked that didn't he?"

Finally, he withdrew his hand and forced you to watch as he admired the way the moonlight made your wetness glisten on his skin. Lifting the bottom of his mask, he took his time tasting you.

"And so sweet, too. But don't worry, he won't be on your mind much longer."

Your breath picked up as he unfastened his belt, easing it out of its loops before unzipping his pants. As he eased his clothing down his thighs, his stiffened manhood came free from its confinement and bounced heavily against your inner thigh. And the sight terrified you. Though he was a similar length to König, it was the girth of his sex that frightened you. If you thought König was a tight fit, there was no way Ghost could cram all of that inside you without significant pain.

You whimpered, shaking your head as you tried to press your thighs together. But the rejection only earned a growl of warning from Ghost as he forced them open even wider. He raised his hips, rubbing the firm head of his cock against your delicate lips and moaning as your wetness coated him liberally.

"Do you know long I've waited for this, princess?" He panted, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight. "How long I had to stand back and watch his hands on you, just waiting for a chance to do this to you?"

"Ghost, please don't do this," you pleaded, a startled gasp of pain quickly following as he began to push against your entrance. "It's not going to fit!"

"From where I'm standing," he said, voice gone rough with arousal. "It'll fit just fine."

With a firm and brutal thrust, Ghost snapped his hips forward and impaled you on his length. It hurt. It hurt a lot. And the searing pain carried on as you screamed for him to stop. But he just kept going, developing a steady pace as he forced your body to adjust to the intrusion faster than it was able. As you writhed in pain at the onslaught, Ghost gave no indication that he would slow down.

"Go ahead and scream," he taunted with a curt laugh before groaning as your walls constricted around him as if to push him out. "No one's gonna hear you, princess. There's no one out here for miles. Just you and me. Just like it should have been from the start."

Every movement of his hips sent white hot pain rippling through your body. Your back stung as stray pine needles embedded themselves deeper into your skin with each thrust. You had nothing left to convince him and no way to make him stop. All you could do was lie there and grit your teeth through the pain, hoping that your tearful pleas would trigger whatever meager scrap of mercy he had in him. But as he increased the brutal pace, you were certain he had none whatsoever. You screwed your eyes shut, trying to block out reality. Trying to dull the pain. Trying to stop feeling anything at all as the pain began to brush dangerously close to pleasure. But his hand closed around your throat, forcing you to face him as he clicked his tongue in disapproval.

"Eyes on me. I want you to know exactly who made you feel this good. I wanna pound every last memory of him out of your system until all that's left is me."

The very next thrust was all pleasure as his length made solid impact with your cervix. You couldn't stop the needy moan it produced. He knew exactly what he was doing. The choking, the roughness, all of it. You couldn't stop it from somehow feeling good. And the thought that such cruel treatment made you feel even the smallest bit of pleasure was beginning to break you. You wanted him to stop. You were still begging him to stop! But your body was now begging for the exact opposite. And you could tell from the cocky look in his eyes that he was well aware of that fact.

"Is someone getting close?"

"No," you gasped, despite the incessant moans you couldn't hold back. You looked away with a choked sob. "Oh my god! Oh fuck!"

He tightened his grip on your neck, leaning down to moan in your ear. "I think you're lying."

The punishing pace began to steadily increase as he pounded you into the forest floor with reckless abandon. With his thumb, he pressed down on the precise spot the knife had cut you and groaned as you hissed in pain. A steady string of curses rasped against your ear as he chased his own impending climax. And despite your best efforts, your own wasn't far behind. Short spasms tore through your inner walls, giving Ghost delicious tastes of what was soon to come as he grunted with pleasure.

"Tell me," he growled, panting against your shoulder. His voice was growing strained and desperate as his pace rapidly began to fall out of rhythm. "Tell me you've never been fucked this good in your life. Tell me I'm better. Tell me who owns this dirty little cunt."

You let out a strangled moan, feeling your body begin to tremble as your orgasm approached. But he wasn't satisfied. That wasn't what he wanted. He released your throat, and you gasped for breath as his hand seized your chin, enveloping your jawline nearly from ear to ear. His eyes were wild and the slightest bit unhinged as he pressed his face against yours.

"I wanna hear you say it! Tell me who owns you. Fucking say it!"

You sobbed as the unwanted pleasure overwhelmed you. You were in no place to resist him. You had no choice but to give him what he wanted if you wanted to survive.

Humiliated and afraid, tears streamed down your face as you spoke the words he demanded to hear, and your climax overtook you. "You do!"

His body stiffened above you as he clutched your hips, throwing his head back with a guttural cry as your walls spasmed around his length. And as your core increased in tightness, you felt him twitch deep inside you as the warmth of his orgasm was forced even deeper with each fading thrust.

Once he was finally spent, he pulled out. His chest heaved as he savored the rush of endorphins coursing through him, admiring his handiwork as he did. He liked what he saw. The tears that poured down your cheeks, the bruises that marked your body, the pale liquid seeping out of your abused sex. He liked all of it.

As for you, you couldn't move. Your body felt numb. You felt detached from reality, and you didn't want to ever come back to it. So you laid there, sprawled out where he'd left you. Dissociated and happy to remain so. Because anything else would be too painful to bear. You didn't even fight when you felt the familiar prick of a needle against your neck. And as the darkness closed in, you welcomed it. You hoped it would never lift. You hoped you'd never again have to hear the words Ghost was murmuring into your ear.

"Good girl."

I know this story includes some pretty dark themes. But at the end of the day, I care more about the well-being of my readers than I do for hits or kudos. Period. I never want my writing to conjure up emotions or feelings that negatively impact you beyond the story. This story can be dark and uncomfortable at times. But it is always intended strictly for fun and fantasy. If at any point along the way it stops being a pleasurable experience, please please close this page and walk away. My stories are never worth your well-being, loves.

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

Dead dove: do not eat, kidnapping, reckless driving, groping, physical violence, predatory behavior, sexual harassment, attempted r/ape, sexual assault

Author's note poem:

The darkness, the darkness,

It's closing in.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again.

Enter with caution

Reader POV:

Pine needles. That was the first thing you could identify as you came back to consciousness: the distinct scent of pine needles. That and a gentle rocking sensation. It was soothing, almost like you were being rocked to sleep. There was a steady hum that vibrated through your entire body. But the peacefulness ceased when you were suddenly thrown to your right, colliding with a hard surface. As the squeal of tires on pavement startled you out of your daze, your body recognized a dull ache in your shoulder all over again. You winced with a hiss, opening your eyes as your memories flooded back. Ghost had caught you. He had grabbed you and stabbed a needle into your shoulder, injecting some kind of tranquilizer into your system. And now, you could see you were strapped into the passenger seat of his jeep as he drove you off into the night.

“Look who finally woke up,” Ghost said, glancing your way before fixing his steely gaze on the road ahead. “Was worried I’d given you too much.”

“Ghost, what’s going on? Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere we won’t be interrupted for a while.”

As much as you hated to admit it, his plan was a cunning one. With you passed out as he carried you to his car, he had painted a picture that wouldn’t raise suspicion. If anyone else was looking, they likely assumed you’d just had far too much to drink at the club that night, and your protective boyfriend was taking you home safely. If only they had known just how wrong they’d been.

You panicked, unbuckling your seatbelt and tugging desperately on the door handle. But the door was locked and you highly doubted he’d unlock it for you if you asked him nicely. As you moved, you immediately remembered what you were wearing. More specifically, what you weren’t wearing. The bottom of your dress had ridden up a bit, and the sensation of your bare ass against the seat reminded you that you'd been completely exposed and passed out for who knows how long. You turned towards him, eyes wide as you tugged your dress down and shrank back against the passenger door.

Ghost chuckled. "If you're thinking I put my hands on you while you were knocked out, I didn't."

"Y-you didn't?"

Honestly, you didn't believe him for a second. Knowing how unbothered he was about touching you whenever he could get away with it, it was hard to fathom that he'd suddenly become a changed man in the last - in however long it had been. How long had it been?

"No," His mask twitched as he smirked. "I considered it. But I want you wide awake and well aware of everything that happens tonight. Can’t have you passing it off as a bad dream, now can we?"

"Ghost, please," you begged. "I wanna go home. Just take me home, and we can talk this out."

"Negative, princess."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. He'd planned every detail of this moment just to get his hands on you, just to get you alone. And like an idiot, you'd walked right into his trap.

You felt around your waist, feeling for your phone. But you knew Ghost was far too smart to leave a loose end like that. As you suspected, your pockets were bare, and your phone was gone without a trace. Unable to think of anything else to do, you curled yourself into a tight little ball and tried to pretend this wasn't happening right now.

"Why are you doing this? Why can't you just leave me alone? Just take me home!"

Ghost scoffed, shooting you a piercing glare. "And what? Let you run away to König? Let you call Price the minute I turn my back? Not happening."

You slammed your hands against the dash, screaming in pure frustration. Desperate and terrified, you started kicking against the door with every ounce of strength you had. You wanted to break something. You wanted the door to just fly off its hinges. You wanted out. For a good five minutes, he allowed you to vent without comment or response. He only took issue with anything you were doing when your flailing turned into yelling at him.

“I fucking hate you!” You screamed. “You monster! You piece of shit!”

His eyes narrowed. "Watch it, princess."

"I'm not you're fucking princess! You sick, twisted fuck!"

Ghost growled as he clenched his jaw, his hands clutching the steering wheel so tight you were surprised it didn't immediately snap in two. "You watch your mouth!"

"No, fuck you!" You shot back, too angry and too frightened to hold back any longer. "I would never in a million years feel anything towards you. When will you get it through your head that I chose König? I’d rather die than even think about choosing you. He's a better man than you'll ever be!"

“You shut your mouth or I will shut it for you! That’s a fucking order!”

"No, you know what? I'm not one of your little underlings. Go find your own piece of ass and leave me alone! Or is that it? You can't! No one is willing to look twice at you because they can spot an asshole from a mile away. You think you're so tough, so important. But you’re just a sad little soldier who comes back home and acts like a petty little bitch!"

Without warning, your head slammed against the passenger window as the car accelerated abruptly, veering sharply off course. You didn't know where he was going, but you did know it was no longer on the main roads. The tires screeched against the pavement as you were thrown into yet another wild turn. Forget anger. The only thing you felt now was fear.

You yelped as the vehicle hopped a curb and barreled down a tiny dirt road that disappeared into the surrounding forest. Trees whizzed past your window in a blur. But while you were terrified and clutching at anything in reach to hold onto, Ghost was unconcerned and staring straight ahead. His eyes were narrowed to fiery slits as he sped through the maze of trees. You shut your eyes, making peace with the fact that this might be the way you would die. A head-on collision with a pine tree at top speed would not be a pleasant end. But you clung to hope that it would at least be quick.

Moments later, you were thrown against the dash like a ragdoll as the vehicle slid to a sudden stop. A sharp pain bloomed right below your hairline as your head crashed against the car's interior. With a soft groan, you reached up and immediately identified the warm, sticky sensation of blood over the broken skin. It wasn’t a lot of blood, and the wound wasn’t any more than skin deep. But it still made the danger of the situation that much more real.

You were sitting there, bruised and bleeding, in the middle of nowhere. Alone with a jealous man who wanted you for himself. A man who had no qualms about intruding on an established relationship and had already made multiple advances. A man who was used to taking any opportunity he could to help himself to your body without asking. This was bad. Really bad.

The car shut off with a click. For a moment, Ghost just sat there, chest heaving with rage as he continued staring dead ahead. As he did, you seized the chance to try to back out of this as fast a possible. You didn’t care that he didn’t deserve an apology. All you cared about was getting away from him as fast a possible. So, if that was a way to do it, you would happily do it.

"Please, Ghost,” You started, hesitantly. “I take back everything, all of it. I know I crossed a line and I'm sorry. Please, I just want to go home."

His response came out in a cruel bark as he seethed, turning his angry eyes on you. "You'll go home when I'm done."

The words made your blood run cold in your veins, his heated glare even more so. You sat there frozen in full panic as Ghost got out of the car and rounded the front of the vehicle, making his way towards you.

What were your options? Fighting him was completely off the table. You could run, maybe? No, he'd catch you well before you made it past the tree line. The only option you could think of was climbing over the center console, starting the car, and driving yourself as far away from him as you could. The keys were still in the ignition! You just had to get to them before he got to you. And now, he was just a step or two away from your door.

"Now or never," you thought.

You scrambled up onto your seat and dove for the driver's seat. Your fingers closed around the edge of the steering wheel, and you held on, trying to use that leverage to hoist the rest of your body across the center of the car. But Ghost reacted immediately. The passenger door flew open, and a vise-like grip clamped down on your upper arm. All it took was a firm pull to tear your hand free and send you careening back towards him. You kicked, and you screamed. But you were no match for his strength as he yanked you out of the car.

The back door opened quickly after, and you were quite literally thrown into the back seat. The impact knocked the air out of your lungs, dazing you. But you snapped back into action as quickly as you could. You barely had time to scoot back against the opposing door before he jumped in behind you. His hand shot out towards your ankle, and you yelped, barely escaping his grasp as you tucked it beneath you.

"Don't touch me!" you whimpered, hysterical panic beginning to set in. "I'll… I'll scream!"

He tried again and this time there was nowhere to run as his hand locked around your calf. And with one solid pull, you were yanked beneath his body. He glowered down at you, his hulking form hovering over you as he caged you between him and the seats. Fury was practically rolling off him in waves as his thighs squeezed in on your hips, easily holding you in place. One of his hands pressed against the seat beside your head while the other roughly grabbed your breast in a bruising grip. He squeezed at the soft protrusion as he spoke, seemingly reveling in your increasing horror as his fingers kneaded you through the fabric of your dress.

"Oh, I'm counting on it."

You squirmed and struggled, trying your best to push him off. But he just sank more of his weight onto you, making your efforts entirely futile. All you could do now was threaten him and hope something you said would scare him back to his senses.

“You could be dishonorably discharged for this! You’ll lose everything! But if you let me go right now, I won't tell anyone anything. I swear!"

Oddly enough, Ghost froze. His eyes didn’t hold even a hint of fear or guilt. Instead, they looked devious. Almost playful. He scrutinized you like he was thinking something through before saying it out loud. After a moment of silence, he pushed away from you and climbed back out of the back seat. You were both relieved and confused to see him stand at the door, propping it wide open and gesturing for you to get out as well.

“You know what? Fine. You wanna run so bad, go ahead and run. I’ll give you ten minutes starting right now. But we play by my rules. If you manage to get away, then I’ll let you go.”

You sat up, fear still coursing through you but warily intrigued by the sudden change. “Really?”

“Yep,” Ghost nodded. But his eyes darkened dangerously with his next words. “But if I catch you first, your ass is mine. Understood?”

Pulse racing, you frantically tried to think the proposition through. It reeked of false hope.

“Wait, wait. Just how far from the base are we? Where are we?”

Ghost didn’t answer your question but instead casually looked down at his watch. “Nine minutes and forty-eight seconds.”

Fuck. He wasn’t waiting for you to figure this out. It was now or never, and you didn’t waste any more precious seconds asking for details. So, scrambling out of the backseat and easing past where he stood, you took off sprinting for the tree line. You knew the odds were stacked against you. And you knew this could very likely be just another trap, a twisted game for his dark pleasure. But if he was going to offer you a free chance at freedom, you were going to take it no matter the risk.

A wary glance over your shoulder showed that Ghost was actually keeping his word. He was just standing there, arms crossed as he leaned against the jeep, watching your frenzied escape play out with interest. But as you sped into the underbrush and flew deeper into the maze of trees beyond, you desperately prayed that would be the very last you ever saw of him.

Ghost POV:

As difficult as it was, Ghost forced himself to stay true to his word. He’d give her a full ten minutes, but not a second more. Not following the rules is the quickest way to spoil a game. And this was a game he really wanted to enjoy. Yes, the cards were stacked heavily in his favor. But technically, he’d still given her a chance. Even if it was a slim one. If she actually managed to evade him out here, with all of his training? Though it would certainly be a disappointing ending, it would be one he’d have no choice but to be a little impressed by.

Checking his watch, Ghost noted that she had about five minutes or so left to do as she pleased. But he still wanted to be ready to start his hunt the second her time was up. The night wasn’t getting any younger.

Strolling around to the back of the jeep, Ghost hoisted the trunk open and rummaged through the duffle bags he’d stowed there ahead of time. In them were all the tools and playthings one could ever wish for. A candy shop of wares for him to pick and choose from as he pleased. It was hard to resist just grabbing them all and putting them to use all at once. But he had to save some of the fun for later. He had to be patient.

For the time being, Ghost was content with selecting just two pieces of equipment: a hunting knife and another dose of tranquilizer. The last item would only come into play if she actually gained the upper hand somehow. It was cheating, but only a little.

After he was satisfied with his collection, Ghost slammed the trunk shut and checked his watch again. With a smirk, he snapped his night vision goggles into place and headed off into the dense forest after his prey.

“Times up, princess.”

I know this story includes some pretty dark themes. But at the end of the day, I care more about the well-being of my readers than I do for hits or kudos. Period. I never want my writing to conjure up emotions or feelings that negatively impact you beyond the story. This story can be dark and uncomfortable at times. But it is always intended strictly for fun and fantasy. If at any point along the way it stops being a pleasurable experience, please please close this page and walk away. My stories are never worth your well-being, loves.

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

Dead dove: do not eat, intimidation, feeling trapped, drugging/tranquilizers, Kidnapping/abduction

Reader POV:

The floor trembled at your back as the thrashing bass from the speakers sent rhythmic tremors through the floor like ripples in a pond. A pond was a good parallel to how you currently felt, too. You felt like a fish, thrashing just below the surface as a fisherman slowly closed their net around you. But you would rather die than just let him win. Anything would be better than a fate of flopping around helplessly in your hunter's clutches.

You waited for what felt like an eternity, hiding in the dingy club bathroom. Any idea of escape that drifted through your mind, you dove for in hopes that it would get you out of your precarious situation. The first idea was to just wait until a group of girls came into the bathroom. If they weren’t too drunk, maybe you could tell them a guy was stalking you and get them to walk you outside as a group. But as the time continued ticking past, no one else came in.

And the longer you waited, the more you were certain Price and his men had already driven off, too. Hell, they were all probably back on base and fast asleep. Maybe you could make it to the bar and flag down the bartender? You could tell him Ghost was bothering you. Maybe he could call someone or fend him off just long enough for you to run? But then where do you run?

You passed the time anxiously walking through multiple versions of escape plans. But you realized every one of them were dependent on one key factor: where Ghost was right now. If he was waiting right outside the door, you were screwed. If he was waiting even a few feet away, you were still screwed. But maybe, if you waited long enough, he’d grow impatient and step outside for a smoke break. That was the one strong vice of his you were certain of. So you sat there and passed the time, praying he’d get hit with the strongest nicotine craving of his life.

Eventually, you climbed to your feet and faced the door. You took a few deep breaths, clenching and unclenching your fists as you gave yourself a quick pep talk. You could do this. You weren't sure how yet, but you'd find a way.

After pressing your ear to the door for a few tense seconds, you listened intently for any clues that might give away what was happening just outside. But you couldn't really hear much of anything over the music. So, muscles tensed for whatever might come afterward, you grasped the door handle and slowly inched it open a crack.

You held your breath and peeked around the edge of the door, fully prepared to slam it shut again if you saw even the slightest movement towards the darkened corner of the club. But to your surprise, you opened it further when you saw Ghost wasn't there. And creeping out into the open, you realized he wasn't anywhere near. Well, anywhere near that you could see. The crowd of guests hadn't let up at all. In fact, they'd increased in number as a fresh wave of customers descended on the nightclub. With a crowd this size, he could literally be anywhere! He was probably lurking somewhere out there, watching you that very moment.

Glancing over towards the bar, you could see a long line of impatient people waiting to buy themselves a drink. There must have been a shift change at some point that night. Because, behind the counter, a bartender you didn't recognize was rushing back and forth frantically trying to fulfill each request as quickly as possible. And you couldn't afford to wait for your turn.

So, head on a swivel, you half walked half ran to the front door. Every step along the way, you were certain a pair of strong arms would lock around you from behind, and you'd be caught. But, luckily, it never happened! As you barged through the front door and shut it behind you, you could have cried from the immediate relief you felt. Somehow, you'd done it! You still had to find a way back to base before Ghost realized you'd managed to slip past him, but the small victory gave you a brand new dose of hope.

It was that hope that spurred you on as you kicked off your heels, and you quickly walked further down the sidewalk away from the club. Once he realized you were no longer inside, outside would be the first place he'd come looking for you. And you didn't want to be anywhere in sight when he did.

The atmosphere outside was far calmer than where you'd just come from. A couple of people mingled in the parking lot, exchanging phone numbers or tugging each other towards their cars so as to continue their fun elsewhere. Some men were leaned against the club's exterior, smoking or slumped over from a drink too many. But, by default, you gave them all a wide berth as you started making your way down the sidewalk. You didn't know if they were the type to help themselves to a girl alone a night. It was unlikely that all of them were that kind of person. But you also didn't want to take a risk and end up regretting it. So you continued on your way.

Typically, dark and empty streets made you nervous. But at the moment, they were a great comfort since the shadows gave you adequate cover during your escape. Hugging the walls and storefronts of long-closed businesses, you jogged towards the first hiding spot you could see. From the looks of it, it was just a small alleyway between two establishments. But it was dark and unassuming, the perfect place to make a frantic phone call and beg someone to come get you. And the recycling bins deeper within it would act as perfect cover if you needed to duck out of sight.

Throwing one last glance over your shoulder to make sure Ghost wasn't already chasing after you, you slowly backed into the shadows and finally felt able to breathe again. You whipped out your phone, immediately lowering the screen brightness before dialing one of your coworkers.

But just as you were about to hit "call", you yelped as a strong force yanked you backward. Well, you tried to yell. But a large, gloved hand clamped down over your mouth as a needle was jabbed into your shoulder. Sharp pain shot through your arm as you kicked and twisted in their hold. But your attempts had no effect as your assailant dragged you deeper into the shadows behind you. Within a few seconds, your vision began to fade out. Your body stopped listening to your mind, going heavy and limp as a sudden tiredness completely overwhelmed you. And just before everything faded to black, an all too familiar voice laughed darkly in your ear.

"Going somewhere, princess?"

I know this story includes some pretty dark themes. But at the end of the day, I care more about the well-being of my readers than I do for hits or kudos. Period. I never want my writing to conjure up emotions or feelings that negatively impact you beyond the story. This story can be dark and uncomfortable at times. But it is always intended strictly for fun and fantasy. If at any point along the way it stops being a pleasurable experience, please please close this page and walk away. My stories are never worth your well-being, loves.

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

Me: okay fr this time. i'm fiiiine

5 minutes later: okay yes i'm sobbing uncontrollably, my heart feels cold and heavy but also empty and numb but also blinding pain

10 minutes later: (deapan, dissociated) okay but what even are feelings?

20 minutes later: okay fr this time. i'm fiiiine

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

If you're struggling to write sex, write food. if you're struggling to write food, write gore. if you're struggling to write gore, write sex. They're all variations on the same themes.

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

Dead dove: do not eat, Sexual Harrassment, Drunk König, rowdy 141, Soap being a bad influence, Intoxication, Ghost being a creep, Groping, TW: Date rape vibes, Predatory behavior

Author's Note: Ghost's creepiness levels sharply increase in this chapter. So, again, enter with caution.

Reader POV:

"Mind if I join you?" Ghost said, setting the drink down in front of you.

"I'd rather cut my arm off with a spoon."

Though that's what you wanted to say, you held your tongue. You knew finally having the assignment behind you was entirely up to you now. He’d successfully thrown the ball into your court and it was your move. And with Price sitting right there, watching both of you expectantly, the only option you had was to say yes. So, with a sigh, you scooted further into the bench and gave Ghost ample space to sit down without any actual contact with you. But as he settled into the bench, he didn't stop his approach until you could feel his thigh firmly pressed against your own. So much for trying.

"The bartender told me what you'd ordered earlier.” Ghost said, looking over at you. “I figured I owed you an apology after how I acted during sparring this morning. So, I hope this drink can make amends."

He was being nice. Too nice. His performance was a good one, but the crafty spark in his eyes confirmed to you that all of this was just for show. It made you wary and uncomfortable. But out of the corner of your eye, you saw Price’s eyes had shifted to you now as he waited for your response.

"Fine. You wanna play games? I can play games too."

"I'm sorry too," you said, putting on a bashful display of repentance. "I shouldn't have taken your mask like that. I just wanted revenge for how scared I was the night before."

Ghost's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly. You weren't really going to announce the truth of your first unpleasant encounter in front of everyone. Admittedly, you were still too scared to really tell anyone at this point. But he didn't know that, and it was so satisfying to make him squirm.

"Your move, asshole."

Across the table, Price was completely unaware of the silent battle that raged on across the table. In his ignorance, he beamed with pride.

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it? Now, do you think you two could turn a new leaf and keep things friendly?”

“I don’t see why not,” Ghost said, giving you a “friendly” pat on your leg under the table. And to your horror, he didn't remove his hand. Instead, it continued to lay there on your thigh, his fingers beginning to toy with the hem of your dress as he turned to you. “What about you, Y/n? Think you could give me a chance? You won’t be disappointed.”

The double meaning didn't miss you as you plastered a smile on your face, grinding out your response through gritted teeth.

“Sounds just great to me.”

“Wonderful,” Price said, standing and stretching a bit. “On that note, consider your assignment complete. Ain’t nothing a little teamwork can’t fix!”

Against your better judgment, you reached for the large glass Ghost had brought you as a much needed distraction. The first one you'd bought had been so good. Just one more couldn't hurt and maybe it would calm your nerves a bit too. Or give you the courage to alert Price to his actions. Either way, you took a generous sip.

But you immediately regretted it. You swallowed and grimaced as the sharp taste of alcohol flooded your taste buds, coughing as it made your stomach warm. It was nothing like the first one. It had been mixed so strong, he might as well have brought you your own personal bottle of vodka!

"Jesus Christ," you said between coughs, frantically reaching for your water and taking a long drink. "What the hell did you put in this?"

"Aw, what's wrong?" Ghost asked innocently, his hand now having slipped just beneath the fabric, kneading the delicate skin where your thigh and stomach met. "I told him to make it just like your first one. Come on, you're a big girl. Give it another try?"

Your blood ran cold as the realization hit you. He was trying to get you drunk! He wanted you to be dazed and disoriented. He wanted your defenses dropped far lower than you'd let them get otherwise.

You shook your head, hurriedly pushing the beverage away. The moment gave you an excuse to shift in your seat and attempt to dislodge his wandering hand. But he simply refused to back off.

"No, I'm good." You smiled, eyes darting to Price in a silent plea. "But thanks anyway."

But Price wasn't looking in your direction at the moment, becoming increasingly distracted by the antics of the neighboring table. And glancing back at Ghost, his burning stare confirmed your original suspicion. He was definitely up to something nefarious.

Though the music still played on and the night was relatively young. But you'd made up your mind. It was time to go home. And you wouldn't feel entirely at ease until you were safe in your room at the barracks with the door locked behind you.

You scooted towards Ghost, nudging him firmly to signal that you wanted to get up. But he didn't budge, content with keeping you trapped on the bench beside him. It wasn't until you verbally announced a desire to get up loud enough for Price to overhear that he withdrew his hand and moved out of your way.

As soon as you were on your feet, you made a beeline for König. You knew if you told him you felt uncomfortable and asked him to take you home, he'd personally whisk you away without hesitation. But when you spotted him among the others at his table, it was clear his condition had worsened significantly since your dance. He was shouting excitedly with the rest of his rowdy group as the drinking game raged on, cheering for Soap as he chugged yet another strong drink. His speech was habitually morphing into slurred German, and he’d occasionally flop back against his seat in fits of drunken giggles. He was piss drunk and unaware of little else.

“Soap,” you yelled as the man slammed his empty glass down on the table, reveling in the resulting cheers from his mates. “How much did you make him drink?”

“I don’t know,” he giggled, struggling to tally up the mess of empty glasses that lay strewn their table. “I kinda lost track after round three.”

“Shit,” you leaned over, waving to get König’s attention. “Babe, are you okay?”

His gaze floated over to you and a stream of words started pouring out of him excitedly. “Maus! Wann bist du hier angekommen? Willst du mit mir tanzen?”

“König, you’re speaking German. I can’t understand you.”

His head hung heavily as he slumped back against the cushion, laughing at nothing in particular. His eyelids were heavy as he giggled, his eyes dazed and a little too gleeful. He was utterly wasted!

Soap was about to start yet another round of tomfoolery, too. But as he raised another drink above his head, drumming up excitement for his next act, Price quickly leaned in and plucked it from his grasp.

“Nope,” he said, shaking his head. “I think you’ve had more than enough for a night.”

Soap pouted, reaching out to snatch it back, but not succeeding as Price held it well out of his reach.

“Aw, come on, Johnny boy! Don’t be a spoil sport.”

But Price was not changing his mind, having finally reached his limit. He jumped into the fray, dragging man after man out of the booth and onto their feet. A chorus of complaints arose, but their protest fell on deaf ears as Price put a swift end to the game and decided it was as good a time as any to end the night.

“I think it's high time I got these boys home before they start causing trouble,” he said, helping a stumbling subordinate back to balance. “Some sleep and a good morning run should get this out of their systems, too.”

Price crossed his arms as the soldiers let out a collective groan at the idea. The few of them who were still sober groaned the loudest, but they all obediently began to file out of the building and into the parking lot. As König weakly dragged himself to the edge of the bench, Price moved to help him up as well. You rushed over to assist, eyes full of concern. The captain slung one of his arms around his shoulder to keep him from falling over. And from the way König wobbled every other step, he likely would have. You clung to his side as extra support, walking in step with Price as he headed towards the front door.

"It's probably not best for a little thing like you to be crammed into a car with this lot," Price warned you. “I don’t want you getting hurt if things get rowdy. Don’t worry, I’ve got him.”

After rummaging through König’s pockets for a moment to find his keys, Price produced Ghost’s keys from his own pocket and tossed them at him. He had thought this whole thing through, making doubly sure Ghost wouldn’t run back to base as soon as he looked the other way. But as Ghost caught his keys and smirked down at you, you suddenly wished Price hadn’t been so thorough after all.

"Ghost,” Price said, arms tightening around König as he began to go limp. “You think you can look after her?"

Ghost chuckled, a little too pleased with the proposition. "I'll take good care of her, don't you worry."

“Good. I’m going to make sure everyone gets home safely.” Price said, taking a deep breath and straightening up a bit. If anyone continued their antics between now and their return to base, heaven help them. Because Price looked like a tired parent just a few minutes away from snapping. But he gave Ghost a quick nod. “You make sure she gets home safe too, okay? But take the time you need. If you two wanted to stay a while longer and start getting to know each other as friends, that’s fine by me.”

With that, Price departed with a very giggly König in tow and left you all on your own with Ghost. No longer having to play his part for their audience, Ghost’s expression fell right back to his usual fiery stare. There was something in his eyes that made your skin crawl. Something dangerous and predatory. Something that made you want to defy Price’s orders and run after him anyway.

“Well then,” Ghost said in a gruff rumble. “How about we get to know each other a little better?”

You blushed a deep red, eyes frantically scanning the area for any viable escape route. “In what way, exactly?”

Ghost approached, his hand trailing down your side. “I have a few ideas in mind I think you’d enjoy.”

“Um,” you shrank back, eyes landing on the bathrooms across the room. “Um, I have to use the bathroom. But after that, we can just go home. I’m pretty tired, actually.”

Pulling away and out of his reach, you began a speedy walk towards the woman’s bathroom. You could stall for time in there. And then, once you found a good opening, you’d lose him in the crowd and make a mad dash for the front door. You glanced over your shoulder at him but were disturbed to see him following right behind you.

“It’s okay, I know the way,” you offered with a nervous laugh. “It’s not like I’ll get lost.”

“No, I told Price I’d keep an eye on you,” he said, stubbornly remaining right behind you the whole way. His voice lowered to a threatening whisper. “Besides, you never know who might try to take advantage of a pretty girl like you, all alone in a place like this.”

“Fuck!”

You panicked, increasing your pace and not stopping until you were safely behind the bathroom door. You whirled around and immediately sank to the floor, pressing your back against the door. You doubted he’d actually follow you inside. But with how bold he’d been before, you honestly didn’t know what he was capable of right now. All you knew was that you refused to play along with whatever sick plans he clearly had in store for you now that he had you to himself. You just had to think of a way to escape and get back to base. And you had to do it fast.

I know this story includes some pretty dark themes. But at the end of the day, I care more about the well-being of my readers than I do for hits or kudos. Period. I never want my writing to conjure up emotions or feelings that negatively impact you beyond the story. This story can be dark and uncomfortable at times. But it is always intended strictly for fun and fantasy. If at any point along the way it stops being a pleasurable experience, please please close this page and walk away. My stories are never worth your well-being, loves.

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

(Dead dove: do not eat, Alcohol, intoxication, flashing/voyeurism, rationalization of ogling, victim blaming ["she was asking for it" vibes, in a way], predatory behavior)

Reader POV:

As the dancing carried on into the night, König continued to loosen up until he felt comfortable letting go of your hand. Having broken through his hesitation with the help of a few drinks, he was actually starting to have fun! And you certainly weren’t complaining.

Typically, whenever you went out dancing with your girlfriends, you had to make sure you kept your wits about you. You’d never let the alcohol fully overcome your senses in case someone tried to use the atmosphere as a perfect excuse to rub themselves all over you without permission. A swift elbow to their chest was usually enough to get them to back off and leave you alone. Usually. But you’d rather choose awareness over having to fend off unwanted attention.

In truth, you felt like you were still getting your fair share of unwanted attention even now. But, so far, you hadn’t actually seen where it could be coming from. Ever since you’d stepped foot on the dance floor, you hadn’t been able to shake the creeping feeling that you were being watched. And that feeling made the hairs stand up on the back of your neck, setting you on edge. It was like some latent evolutionary survival instinct kicking in, warning you that there was danger lurking just around the corner. But so far, it was a corner that you hadn’t been able to spot yet. From your short stature and limited vantage point on the dance floor, all you could see were dancers surrounding you on all sides.

But with König at your back, you were able to more easily brush the paranoia aside. Knowing he literally had your back, you still felt safe enough to dance your little heart out without fear. He easily stood head and shoulders above anyone else out there. And all it would take is a glance up at his mask and a scowl from him to discourage any potential threats.

Even if they wanted to, they wouldn’t be able to get their hands on you now if they tried. Because König left not even the smallest gap between your bodies as he began synchronizing his steps with yours. Apparently, a drunk König meant a very handsy König too. His hands made themselves right at home at your waist or caressing your broad hips.

Feeling particularly bold, you leaned forward a bit and gave him a front row seat as you started twerking for him. When you glanced over your shoulder, you saw him practically mesmerized by the sensual movement. And since you were doubtful anyone else could see you in your current position, you decided this was the perfect opportunity to reveal your naughty surprise. Keeping your eyes on him to gauge his reaction, how leaned forward just a hair more. It wasn’t a huge movement, but you knew it would be just enough to make the hem of your dress rise an inch or two. And as it did, König gasped and let out an audible moan when he realized you weren’t wearing a stitch of clothing underneath it. He rushed forward to shield you with his body as he frantically tried to tug your dress back down.

“Nein, Maus,” he whispered urgently, leaning down so that you could hear him. “Not here. Someone could see.”

“No one’s looking but you,” you giggled and whispered back, realizing you were feeling a little tipsy. “And I want you to look.”

Taking advantage of his returned closeness, you ground your ass against his groin temptingly. And though he didn’t try to stop your movements, he still pulled your dress back down and made it his mission to ensure it stayed that way. You wanted to pout, initially having hoped he'd whisk you off to a bathroom or alleyway and rail you until you couldn't see straight. And your brazen action now left you a bit embarrassed. But at the same time, it turned you on to see him so determined that no one else even glance at what was rightfully his.

“Herkommen,” he murmured in your ear, gently tugging you out of the crowd and back towards your table. "I worry you're a bit more drunk than you might think."

You really pouted this time, the music calling to you like a siren's song. But König insisted.

"There will be more dancing tonight, I promise. Bitte, for me?"

He looked down at you, almost pleading. You knew you physically couldn't say no to his puppy dog eyes, so you nodded and obediently headed back to your seat. You stumbled the tiniest bit on your way there and wondered if König was right after all. Just how strong was that drink?

Ghost POV:

Out on the dancefloor, things were headed in a direction that Ghost quite enjoyed. They’d been out there dancing for a while now. And it seemed the alcohol was working its magic on the both of them. The crowd was a wild mass of bodies in motion. But every now and then, they would align just right and grant him a glimpse of his target. It was like the whole world had joined in on teasing him, edging him closer and closer to what he craved so badly. He imagined it was his body she was rubbing herself all over, not König's. His hands on those curves of hers, not König's.

But the next glimpse he got of her made his cock twitch in his pants. She was behaving like an absolute whore, bending over to grant König a peek up her dress. He could tell by the smirk on her face that it was wholly intentional, too. And as luck would have it, Ghost had a direct line of sight to her raunchy display. But he found himself biting back a moan when he caught an unexpected glimpse of bare flesh. Fuck. She wasn’t wearing panties. And she’d just unknowingly flashed him from across the room. He couldn’t tear his eyes away and it took every ounce of his strength not to pounce right then and there. But his mood darkened when he saw that König was yet again ruining his fun, stepping in to guard her honor and unknowingly block his view.

It was then and there that Ghost made up his mind. The plan was decided. And if everything went according to plan, this would be the very last time König would get to enjoy her like this. Because when the night was over, Ghost fully intended to stake his claim. To capture his prize.

Slamming his fist on the bar, he snapped the bartender to immediate attention. It looked like he'd be purchasing a drink tonight after all.

I know this story includes some pretty dark themes. But at the end of the day, I care more about the well-being of my readers than I do for hits or kudos. Period. I never want my writing to conjure up emotions or feelings that negatively impact you beyond the story. This story can be dark and uncomfortable at times. But it is always intended strictly for fun and fantasy. If at any point along the way it stops being a pleasurable experience, please please close this page and walk away. My stories are never worth your well-being, loves.

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

(Contents Summary: TW: Fake Interrogation, TW: Mild knifeplay, TW: Restraints, Playful Soap, Adorable Soap, Loving Soap, Strip tease, Tight fit, Soft Dom Soap, TW: Sexual Intercourse, Possessive Soap)

“Wait,” she moaned, feeling every care in the world suddenly begin to feel lightyears away. But she couldn’t let go completely. Not yet. “Wait, the training. The assignment.”

“I got a different kinda assignment I wanna do right now,” Soap huffed, nuzzling against her neck. “And I think you do too.”

His hands roamed her frame, taking time to explore her ample curves. It felt like they were everywhere at once. Ghosting along her arms, grabbing at her hips, cupping the swell of her breasts. And it felt so good that she never wanted to stop. But at the same time, Ana knew she’d never forgive herself if he woke up in deep trouble with Price the following morning. So did the opposite of what her body was practically screaming at her to do. She persisted.

“I want to, believe me. When you touch me like that, it's hard to even think about anything but you touching me more. But I don’t want Price mad at you because of me,” she murmured, gasping when Soap began to nibble on her earlobe. “Just bring me the list. I’ve got an idea.”

With a huff and a short laugh, Soap finally pulled himself away and went to retrieve the scattered papers. Once he returned, he quickly untied the restraints so that Ana could finally sit up and flip through the pages. But as she began to read, Soap lingered in her peripheral vision. And all the words on the page immediately turned to word salad when she saw him slowly undoing his belt.

Soap smirked when he saw her blatant stare, taking his time to put on a devilishly distracting performance. “You better hurry up, love. Because once these clothes come off, reading time is over.”

The belt slowly slipped around his waist, trailing past each loop before he let it fall to the floor. Ana bit her lip, struggling to focus on the papers in her hand. She scanned the pages as quickly as she could, not wanting to skip anything important but also not wanting to miss Soap’s alluring display.

“Okay, I think I have an idea how we can make this work,” she rushed, eyes flying through the lines of text.

“Oh? Talk fast, clock is tickin’.”

As he spoke, Soap tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it on top of his belt. Ana intended to only give him a quick glance, but she couldn’t help but stare again. The man was built like an Adonis. His arms bulged with layers of muscle, prominent veins clearly visible along their length. There was a light spray of hair across his chest, accenting the protruding definition before it tapered into his abdomen. Every breath he took made muscles she didn’t even know existed twitch and flex, each one on blatant display.

“I’m sorry,” Soap teased, not feeling sorry in the slightest. “Am I distracting you?”

Ana shook herself from her brief daze, finally finding her original train of thought again. “I-I figured out how we can complete the assignment. If you squint, it’s definitely passable. Look.”

She beckoned him over, in part to stall for time before he took anything else off. But she genuinely wanted his opinion on her clever interpretation of the training forms. Soap didn’t join her right away, though. Now that he had her full attention, he tugged the zipper of his pants down and worked his jeans down his thighs. He grinned mischievously when Ana’s eyes locked on the crotch of his boxers, not needing to see his pants hit the floor to practically drool over him. And having earned just the reaction he was hoping for, he finally swaggered over to the table. Ana’s gaze followed the gentle sway of his hips as he went, physically tearing her eyes up from his lower half when he reached her side. When their eyes finally met again, Soap was smirking down at her. He let the prominent bulge in his boxers brush against her leg, making her eyelids flutter as she gasped. But he still reached out for the papers in her trembling hands.

“So, what’s this bright idea of yours?”

Ana swallowed hard, her mind spinning in the most delicious way as she deliriously pointed down at the page. “Here, you read it. I can’t… Wow.”

“What’s the matter, doll? Something else on your mind?”

He repeated the motion, pressing himself against her and reveling in the way she fought to keep her composure. Ana didn’t respond verbally. She wasn’t sure if she could at the moment. So, instead, she pushed the papers toward him with a shake of her head and tried to look anywhere but where their bodies currently met.

“Fine,” Soap chuckled, taking the papers and beginning to rifle through them. “I’ll read it again. But what am I looking for?”

“I think we could get a little… creative with some of the interrogation tactics they list in there,” she answered, a bit breathless. “All it says is that you have to do some of the listed items and note my responses. If we word things just right, our own little assignment might fulfill this one too.”

“Sounds naughty,” Soap grinned, nodding along as he read. “I like it. Anything in particular you like on the list?”

Ana blushed, looking down at her hands as she fidgeted a bit. “Well, um, things like choking. The one on physical violence could be stretched to include… spanking. Stuff like that. And… and you could do that thing with the knife again.”

Soap looked up in surprise, but did not protest. “You liked that, did you? Got a little knife kink? I thought I had scared you too bad there. But no, you were just soaking straight through your knickers the whole time, weren’t you?”

“M-maybe.”

Soap tossed the papers back to the floor, needing no further instruction. No, he had everything he needed to make this work for both of them. And the longer he waited, the more he craved her.

“I wonder just how wet you got,” He purred against her ear, hooking a finger into the waist of her shorts. “How about you take these off and show me?”

Ana quivered as pure arousal coursed through her body, snapping her into action. Slowly easing herself off the edge of the table, she started tugging them downwards. But Soap stopped her, his eyes lighting up with a new idea.

“No, wait," he rushed, smirking mischievously. "We gotta check as many boxes as we can, right? So why not start now?”

He turned and grabbed his jeans from the floor, slipping his knife out of the pocket. When he turned back around, he let himself fall into the role of an interrogator all over again. His eyes were dark and steely. Not a hint of laughter remained in them as he stalked towards where Ana stood, twirling the sharp blade in his fingers.

He straightened his arm, pointing the tip of the blade towards her throat in a threatening pose. “I’m only gonna say this once. Strip. Now.”

The sudden change from friendly banter to full-on dominance made Ana’s breath catch in her throat. Every fiber of her being snapped to attention when he turned those fierce blue eyes on her like that. He looked dangerous and deadly as he slowly stalked towards her, like a killer closing in on their helpless prey.

She nodded quickly, and there was a slight tremor of anticipation in her hands as she tugged the waistband of her shorts down her thighs. Soap’s eyes watched the fabric fall towards the floor with a spark of raw hunger. But when Ana moved to do the same with her panties, Soap stopped her. The edge of the blade jerked towards her, pressing just hard enough against the nape of her neck to make her heart skip a beat.

"Slowly," he hissed. "And don't try anything."

There was a level of threat in his words that sent a rush of excitement down Ana's spine. His eyes held a smugness, almost like he was challenging her. Daring her to defy him in any way. As for Ana, her eyes were wide but not in fear. The way she continued to bite her lip, chest rising and falling in quick jerky movements. The way a scarlet veil crept across her face as she blushed for him. It was driving Soap wild, too. Adrenaline pumping through his veins with every beat of his heart.

He watched her undress, biting back a moan as the waist of her underwear fell past her broad hips. And when they landed between her feet, an obvious stain of fresh excitement marked where her sex had once been.

"S-should I keep going?" Ana squeaked, hesitantly gripping the hem of her tank top.

Soap’s eyes slowly rose from the pile of discarded clothes, up the length of her legs to her groin, and then gradually arrived at her face again. Raw desire colored his gaze. His arms flexed as he clenched and unclenched his hands, no longer willing to wait any longer.

"I'll take it from here," Soap huffed.

In one motion, he seized the neck of her top and shredded the fabric like tissue paper. All it took was a flick of his knife through the center of her bra to finally bare her full beauty to him.

"I should probably restrain you, tie you up good and tight," he chuckled, winding the torn top around her wrists and tying them behind her back. "That was on the list too. Can't have you getting away, now can we?"

"You won't get anything out of me," Ana shot back, smirking as she played along a bit. "You'll never make me talk."

"Oh, I'm not gonna make you talk," Soap growled, letting the knife clatter to the floor. He hoisted her back onto the table and slowly climbed on top of her. "First, I'm gonna make you whimper and moan. Make you sing for me like a little bird."

His hand gripped her thigh, tugging her leg around his waist as he spoke.

"Then, I'm gonna make you beg. Beg me to break you, to use you however I see fit. And then," he smirked, rolling her nipple between his fingers before squeezing it to emphasize his next words. "I'm gonna make you scream my fucking name."

Ana tipped her head back, unable to contain the moan his words forced out of her mouth. Her back arched up towards him, and he used the opportunity to lower his mouth to her breast. Soap’s tongue felt like fire when it touched the sensitive skin. And with his hands gripping pressing up against the curve of her back, she couldn’t escape the pleasure she felt even if she wanted to. But she didn't want to escape. She didn't want it to ever cease.

"Soap," she whimpered, gasping as he suckled her.

Ana clutched his head to her chest, burying her fingers into the soft hair of his mohawk and losing herself in the warmth of his mouth. The stubble of his facial hair tickled her skin, adding yet another layer of stimulation. She shuddered in his arms as he ensured her other breast received similar treatment. Once he was satisfied, his mouth never left her body. Instead, he began marking a searing trail of licks, nibbles, and kisses down her torso.

Eventually, Ana could feel his tongue swirl against her inner thigh as he nudged them open with his shoulders. She hissed, biting her lip and eager for him to shift just a hair towards where she craved him most. But he paused, mouth hovering over her sex. Hot air fanned out over her core with every breath he took.

Ana sat up a bit, glancing down towards him to see why he had stopped. His eyes stormed with lust as he stared up at her through his dark lashes. As she held his smoldering gaze, he slowly extended his tongue and dragged it along her delicate folds. That was all it took to send her body flailing back against the table. Ana squeezed her eyes shut, gasping needily as he lapped at her like a man gone mad with ravenous hunger. He moaned, closing his lips around the swollen bud of nerves. And the vibration shot through her whole body.

"You taste so sweet, doll," he panted, giving her clit languid tugs of suction. "God, you're a pretty sight."

Ana didn't respond. She couldn't if she wanted to. All she could do was tremble as he buried his face between her legs, her mouth frozen in a silent moan of bliss. But it didn't remain that way for long. When he thrust his tongue into her entrance, she writhed with a low moan. Her thighs shook uncontrollably, pressing in on him from either side. But he welcomed the pressure, wrapping his arms around her legs to hold them there as he eagerly explored her depths.

The tremors gradually spread to the rest of her body as the pleasure continued to build. And when her whimpers rose higher in pitch, Soap knew her undoing was just around the corner. So, he tightened his grip and continued to savor her taste.

"Come on, lass," his voice was muffled and husky. "Just let go. Let go."

With a loud cry, Ana fell into her climax. Her whole body clenched as raw pleasure flooded her senses and made reality feel like a distant memory. The only thing keeping her there was Soap’s heated moans as her release rushed into his waiting mouth. He didn't just want a taste of her. He wanted all of her. Nothing less would ever do. And as she came back down from her high, he could tell she felt the same burning need. She wanted more. She needed more.

Soap slowly moved forward, pulling her into a kiss and letting her sample her taste from his tongue. As she did, he hurriedly kicked off his boxers and finally pressed his full weight against her. Though she couldn't see from her position, she could tell he wasn't lacking in size or excitement. The girthy length of his erection pressed against her stomach. It twitched and throbbed as he deepened the kiss. And with a low groan, he gently started grinding his hips against her in search of much needed friction.

"Are you sure you’re ready for this?" he whispered, meeting her eyes again. "If you want me to stop here, I will. We've checked enough boxes for your training. And as much as I want to absolutely rail you right now, I don't wanna push."

Ana panted, tugging him against her with her legs. "I want you. Don't you dare stop."

Soap smirked, adjusting his position to line up at her entrance before settling back down on top of her. And with his face tucked against her neck, he slowly began to push. A startled gasp rang out as his head slipped past her folds, and Soap moaned in response. Both were breathless and nearly delirious as his length gradually vanished into her core, inch by inch.

"Bloody hell, you're tight," he grunted through gritted teeth. "Jesus Christ."

Ana's eyes rolled back in her head, mind going fuzzy as the fullness increased. "Oh my god. Fuck, Soap."

Finally, he bottomed out, and Ana felt his tip lodge against her cervix with a jolt. As he waited for her to adjust, he tugged against her restraints and tossed the battered fabric to the floor. As soon as her hands were free, Ana clutched his shoulders and braced herself.

"Can I-"

"Yes," Ana gasped, cutting him off. "Make me yours, please."

The simple request ignited a fire in Soap. His eyes raged with lust as he drew back and rolled his hips back into her. Ana shuddered beneath him, nails digging into his back in the most delicious way. So he did it again, gradually building his pace.

Every thrust rocked her against the table, earning a series of beautiful sounds from them both. And as he picked up speed, all Ana could do was hold on for dear life and whimper as he rammed into her. Soap usually kept his strength under strict control when it came to her. But as he began to lose his grip, his movements were almost brutal. He was losing control, and he knew it. But he also knew he couldn't stop. Not with her squeezing at him like that. Not with her looking at him like that.

From below, Ana rocked her hips with his movements. By synchronizing with him, she allowed him to press even deeper than he thought she could take. But she was taking it. Ana was clearly handling herself just fine. Her moans spiked in volume, and her whole body shivered in erratic bursts, but she didn't try to slow him down. Her legs hugged him against her just as tightly as before, if not tighter. If she had tightened her hold on him, Soap couldn't tell anymore. All the surrounding details were melting away into nothingness as he moved within her. And as far as he knew, his reality currently consisted three things: This moment, this goddess of a woman, and the mind-bending pleasure she was making him feel.

With a rasped growl, he shoved her arms off his shoulders in favor of pressing them above her head. His forehead pressed against hers as he finally let go, pounding her into the table beneath him. But Ana didn't protest. She mewled so sweetly as the intensity rose. Those doe eyes of hers were fixed on him, filled with pure need. She could take him. She could take all of him, even when he didn't hold back. And that acceptance from her was what finally pushed Soap over the edge.

"Take it," he hissed. His voice was a mixture of a demand and a request, simultaneously begging for release and commanding her to do the same. "Take my fucking cock while I make you mine. You're mine!"

His final word came out strained as Ana clenched around him. As she shuddered through her orgasm, Soap’s voice quickly morphed to a grunt of pleasure as his climax hit full force. She could feel him twitch within her, an eruption of warmth pooling in her belly as he came. Her body responded, spasms constricting her walls to greedily collect every last drop of his love. And with that, a room intended only for fear and terror now filled with sighs of bliss.

Soap gasped for breath, hovering above Ana as he slowly collected himself. His eyes danced with a level of joy Ana hadn't seen in a long time. And smirking down at her, Soap could see the very same emotion in hers.

"I'm almost tempted to take those forms and just shred em'," he laughed.

Ana scoffed, playfully swatting his arm. "What? No! You heard Price. He's gonna give you hell for that!"

"Eh, let him. I can take it. Besides, that'll mean I'll have to 'interrogate' you all over again," he grinned again, his voice dropping to a whisper as he trailed his thumb along her jawline. "And for a prize like that, I'd say it's well worth it."

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

☁️🌶

Ana has to complete her torture simulation training, and Price won't let her sign off for the day until she passes. But no matter how hard she tries to imagine the role-played scenarios are actual danger, Soap ends up making her laugh. And that wasn't the only distraction she had to fend off. The restraints, the threats, the weapons? All of them held an inherent kinkiness that she simply could not ignore. But when Soap makes a startling admission, suddenly everything makes perfect sense. And what began as an interrogation quickly turns into something much more... exciting.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

(Content warnings: TW: Fake Interrogation, TW: Mild knifeplay, TW: Restraints, Playful Soap, Adorable Soap, Loving Soap, Protective Soap)

The metal table was biting cold against Ana’s skin. That alone was going to cause her to break if the situation went on much longer. The thin fabric of her tank top did nothing to prevent the frigid sensation from chilling her to the core. And shorts weren’t much better when it came to comfort. She knew that if she just held out a little while longer, it would all be over. And if she could see a clock, a watch, anything to help her pass the time, she could steel her mind against all the discomfort she felt. The desperate thought made her laugh internally, though. Because, whether she had her eyes open or closed, she wouldn’t be able to see a thing anyway. A blinding light stared down at her from above, its brightness making her wince whenever she tried to adjust to it. And no matter how hard she twisted and turned in her restraints, she couldn’t diminish its unrelenting gaze.

Though her sight wasn’t her greatest asset, she could still hear just fine. And the sound of heavy footsteps pacing around the table where she lay made her stiffen with resolve. And the tiniest bit of fear. But she was determined to see this through no matter what happened.

“So,” a muffled voice spoke in a far too casual voice. “Where are they?”

Ana clenched her jaw, squinting to see past the light’s glare. Whoever was speaking had something over their mouth to disguise their voice. They didn’t want her to have any clue who she was talking to, so she could rule that potential intel out. But maybe she could see a detail that would give something away?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied, with a practiced calm.

There was a long stretch of silence, and the pacing continued. But her whole body jolted when her interrogator slammed their fists down on the table beside her head, making her jump.

“Where are they?!” The man screamed. “I know you took them. Now tell me where they are or things will get very unpleasant for you.”

"There was a detail!" she thought to herself. "The interrogator was a man! Or, at the very least, had a very masculine-sounding voice."

A loud noise crackled next to her ear, and, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man shove something towards her face. She immediately wondered what it was but fought the urge to turn her head. She had to be level-headed, collected, and perfectly calm. She couldn’t give any hints to what she was thinking. Ever.

Luckily, she didn’t have to battle her curiosity for long. Because the object was shoved at her face so that she could get a proper look. Her heart hammered in her chest as her vision focused on… an empty bag of Animal Crackers?

Just like that, her resolve morphed into confusion as her mind stalled. Her interrogator went on, but whatever they were using to muffle their voice had slipped a bit.

“You don’t want to talk? I’ll make you talk!”

Suddenly, a scenario that was supposed to elicit the ultimate terror devolved into peals of laughter. Ana writhed and gasped for breath, not from pain but from relentless tickles.

“Soap, that’s so not fair!” she gasped out between giggles. "I was really getting into it!"

"Can you be serious for just 15 minutes?" Price grumbled from across the room, exasperation clear in his voice. "This is supposed a torture simulation, not fun and games."

The overhead light clicked off and Ana blinked rapidly, trying to readjust her eyes to normal lighting again.

"I am being serious!" Soap protested. "She ate all my snacks and thought I wouldn't notice! You said we should try to use their weaknesses, and I know hers inside and out. Besides, tickles can be torture!"

Price crossed his arms, shaking his head. "Come on, Soap. If I'm gonna be forced to oversee this, you're doing it my way. It's late. And right now, her passing this training is the only thing between me and a good night's sleep. If I end up staying out here all night because of you, it'll be you on that table instead. Now start over. And be realistic."

Soap rolled his eyes, earning another giggle as he poked Ana’s side one last time.

"Okay," he sighed, tugging his mask up over his nose and giving her a playful wink. "Going back in character. Get your game face on, lass."

Ana nodded, letting her grin fade back into a deadpan expression as she tried to convince herself she was in real danger again. The overhead light clicked on and there was a faint beep as Price restarted the stopwatch.

"I'm gonna make this nice and simple," Soap growled, dropping his voice into a menacing tone. "Tell me where your team is. I want details and I want names."

After a slow inhale and exhale, Ana spoke. "I don't know."

"I think you're lying," the "interrogator" chuckled. "You know what happens to liars, girl? They always tell the truth eventually. At the cost of a few fingers or toes, yes. But it always ends the same."

The graphic threat was an effective touch. Ana could feel terror beginning to coil in her stomach and her pulse jumped. The fear only increased in intensity when he slowly pulled out a knife. She could hear the soft scraping of metal against metal as he drew it from its sheath. And her breath caught in her throat when the cool metal of the blade pressed lightly against her neck.

"Come on, baby girl," he murmured in her ear. "Sing for me. I know you want to tell me what you know."

He was playing dirty, and he knew it. It was common knowledge on base that a smooth talking man made her weak in the knees. After Alejandro caught her mid-breakup recovery watching the same cheesy romance movies on repeat, no one on the team ever let her live it down. But what Soap had no way of knowing was that he was tripping a very dangerous wire by using his knife alongside it. The minute it touched her skin, Ana's heart rate quickened. And it wasn't from fear.

The warmth of his breath ghosted across her shoulder, whispering through the fabric of his mask as he pressed closer. She felt a slight tremor run down her back. But she squeezed her eyes shut, trying hard to focus only on the assignment at hand. Not how close he was to her. Not how her body was reacting to that closeness.

"I-I work alone," she panted. "There is no team."

"Let's see if I can jog your memory then," Soap hissed, pulling out his phone and pulling up a picture of Captain Price. "Have you seen this man?"

Ana turned her face away as he held the image up to her face. She knew this trick well. He was trying to watch her face for the slightest hint of recognition. And she had a terrible poker face. But Soap moved with her, forcing her to face his phone.

When the image came into focus, she couldn’t help but start laughing all over again. It was indeed a picture of Price. It was one she'd seen before. But it had been cleverly edited in advance. In the original picture, Price was frozen mid yell while jabbing his finger at a snarky recruit's face. But Soap had clipped the image in the style of one of her favorite memes. So now there were a total of three angry Price’s standing in a circle, pointing and yelling at each other in classic Spiderman fashion. The tension shattered as both of them fell into yet another fit of laughter.

"That's it. I'm done," Price yelled, throwing his stopwatch across the room and stooping to collect his things.

Soap threw up his hands. "I'm sorry! It was too good of an opportunity. Did you see her face? Even you've gotta admit that was hilarious!"

Soap turned the screen towards Price, but the captain's scowl stayed firmly in place.

"Yes, very funny," he spat, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. "Since you're in a joking mood tonight, how about this for laughs? Neither of you are permitted to leave this room til she passes. Keep the antics up as long as you want, Soap. But if I wake up without a full report and a passing grade outside my door, I will personally kick. Your. Ass."

Price turned on his heel and stormed out of the interrogation room, slamming the door behind him. Silence stretched on for a good while afterward, too. Ana felt a bit ashamed of herself. Soap certainly wasn't helping with his playful personality. But even with that, she should have had the self-control to keep a straight face. It was a silly idea, but what kind of soldier was she if all a captor had to do to break her was make her laugh?

"He's right," she sighed. "We gotta get this done without goofing off. It's important."

"Come on. It's not that important," Soap mocked her, surprised she was turning serious on him now too. "The 141 doesn't get captured. He get in, we down the baddies, we get out."

"Yeah, but I'm not nearly as experienced as the rest of you guys are. What if something happens during a mission and I have to actually use this stuff?"

Soap went quiet, his grin quickly vanishing. His eyes flashed as he frowned a bit. "Not happening. Not on my watch."

"But it could! We have to be prepared for every possible outcome. I know you don't like to hear it, but it could."

"But it won't."

He said the words with a gruff finality, crouching to retrieve the stopwatch from the floor. His easy going nature was gone now. The sudden shift made it clear such a scenario was a topic he never wanted to dwell on and would not discuss any further.

As Ana watched his mood sink uncharacteristically low, suddenly his antics throughout the night began to make sense. He wouldn’t take the role playing seriously because he couldn't. He couldn't bear to imagine someone actually hurting her like that. And the minute he began to see true fear settling in her mind? The second she looked at him with real terror in his eyes? He had used humor and jokes to intentionally shatter the illusion, unable to handle her looking at him like that.

"Soap, are you okay?"

He sat down on the edge of the table, staring down at the bundle of training forms. There was a checklist of scenarios she had to successfully withstand. And there were blank areas beside them for him to describe her responses in excruciating detail. From the look on his face, Ana could tell he did not like what he was seeing.

"I'm fine," he snapped, sending the papers fluttering to the floor. "We can just fake it. We'll spend a few minutes getting our stories straight, check a few boxes, and you'll pass. Then we can just go to bed and forget any of this ever happened."

It was difficult for Ana to take on a comforting role in her current position. She was still strapped to the table and her hands and feet were still bound. But she hated to see him so distraught. She shifted a bit, gently nudging his leg with her foot.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm okay! None of it's real. What happens in this room stays in this room. At the end of the day, we're still just Soap and Ana. Friends to the end, right?"

She'd thrown in the sweet little motto he'd started shortly after she'd joined the team, hoping it would lighten his mood even just a little bit. Instead, he winced. His jaw clenched briefly at the mention of the phrase, and he still wouldn't meet her eyes. But Ana persisted, determined to lift his spirits somehow.

"Come on, don't be a debbie downer! Say it with me. I know you want to," she teased, gently starting a playful chant. "Friends to the end! Friends to the end! Friends-"

"Damn it, Ana! I don't wanna be just friends anymore! I'm in love with you, okay? Don't you get that?"

Ana froze, lying there on the table in shocked silence. Her mind stalled, unprepared for the sudden admission. And for a good while, she didn't know what to even say. But Soap went on.

"I've seen a lot of things, doing what I do. A lot of death, a lot of pain, a lot of suffering. I've seen what it can do to even the strongest people. How it changes them and makes them a broken shell of who they used to be. I won't let that happen to you. I'd rather die than let someone do anything on that list to you. And I sure sure as hell won't be the one to do it to you for a fucking grade. Even if it's just pretend."

"Soap…," her voice trailed off as emotions began to take hold. "I-I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. Just because I blurted something without thinking out doesn't mean you owe me anything. I just… I just thought you should know."

"...I love you too."

Now, it was Soap’s turn to freeze. Slowly, as if the moment was so fragile even a wayward breath would make it shatter, he turned to meet her eyes.

"Please, don’t joke. Not about this,” he whispered the words like a prayer. “Do you mean that?”

Though her face flushed bright red, Ana held his gaze. Her hand twitched in its bindings as if she wanted to reach for him. But she nodded.

“I do. I have for a long time. I just didn’t know how to say it without risking our friendship.”

For a moment, time stood still as the two stared at each other. Their faces were a mixture of shock, pleasant surprise, and adoration. They were like two magnets once held apart by opposing threads that they’d just severed, now drawn together with nothing left to hold them back.

Soap moved, lunging forward into a passionate kiss. And though she lay prone beneath his shadow, Ana lifted her head as much as her restraints allowed to eagerly kiss him back. His hand slipped behind her head, deepening the kiss with a desperate tug. Soap’s lips felt soft against her own, sliding against her full lips like they were made to be their perfect match. Their tongues began a wild dance and Soap let out a low moan. All this time biting his tongue and holding himself back. And yet here he was, watching as his wildest fantasy was finally made real.

With what felt like great effort, Soap finally pulled back. His knees framed her hips, and he gently rested his forehead against hers. Their chests rose and fell, meeting with each inhalation as they caught their breath.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Soap panted, closing his eyes and savoring the moment they’d just shared. “To kiss you. To touch you. You’re so bloody gorgeous, doll.”

Ana sighed as his fingertips traced the outline of his waist, his thumbs brushing upwards just beneath the hem of her tank top. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through her. And from the way Soap shuddered above her, it was clear that he’d felt it too.

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

It's not a dependency!

It's a friendshipppppp!!!!

My main tropes are like my oldest friends and friends don't abandon friends! 😤🫂😭

Them: you realize you've already written this trope countless times...

Me:

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

(Content warnings: Friendly 141, anxious König, König cuteness, König learns to dance, Ghost being stubborn, tw: Ghost being a creep, justifying objectification, pervy thoughts, jealous/possessive thoughts, funny Soap antics, Price being the dad of the group)

Reader POV:

Later that night, you quickly got dressed for the team's night out. It was the first time you got to dress up during your visit, so you were trying to make sure not a single hair was out of place. You were excited to go out on the town, but you were doubly excited to finally have Price’s assignment behind you after tonight. You'd keep face and be cordial with Ghost whenever it counted. But beyond that, you no longer wanted anything to do with him. It was just too much of a risk. As you slipped on a pair of black heels, someone knocked and called through your door.

"You about ready yet?"

"Coming!"

After giving yourself a quick spritz of perfume, you hurried out into the hallway. The whole team was patiently waiting outside your door, chatting a bit to pass the time. But as soon as they saw you, all conversation ground to a halt. You were wearing your favorite little black dress. The front was flowy as draped fabric cut down your torso in a plunging neckline, ending halfway down your torso. But otherwise, the fabric was skin tight as it hugged your ample curves. It was the kind of dress that you had to be a bit careful in, though. The hemline ended maybe an inch or two below your ass, so careful movement was a must. But you'd learned exactly how you could navigate a night of dancing without it riding up and higher. Plus, you had a saucy little surprise that you were certain would knock König’s socks off later that night. With the exception of a few perfectly placed baby hairs, your curls were pulled back in a high puff. It billowed out from the back of your head, looking almost like a fluffy halo.

Judging by the tiny area of skin König’s mask revealed around his eyes, he immediately went beet red and just stood there gazing at you adoringly. From behind him, someone let out a wolf whistle.

“You better give your girl a kiss.” Price smiled, nudging him out of his stupor and closer to you.

“If he won’t, I will!” Soap joked, puckering his lips.

John shot him a tired glance, shaking his head before turning back to you. “Ignore him, please.”

But König only had eyes for you at the moment. He ambled forward awkwardly, but then sweetly took your hand in his.

You gave him a little turn to show him every angle of your outfit, striking a pose. “What do you think?”

“Mein Engel,” he whispered. “You look so beautiful.”

“Aw, thank you! You don’t look too shabby yourself.”

Everyone had taken effort to dress appropriately for your night out. Well, they had taken an effort to not look like soldiers, for once. König was wearing a satiny button up shirt and a pair of black trousers. It was so strange to see him in something other than tan or camouflage. Though he’d abandoned his helmet for the night, he still kept his hood as an essential piece of the ensemble. He’d neatly positioned the hemline so that it swept across his shoulders like a loose scarf. A bit unconventional for a night club, but classy nonetheless. And he had a twin, because Alejandro had chosen a similar color palette. He had opted for a slim-fit black V-neck and a pair of gray jeans.

Price had opted for a more formal look. You could tell he’d taken the time to pamper his beard and mustache as they now bore a healthy sheen. The arms of his blazer bulged around his biceps and he’d left the first few buttons of his shirt undone. He was bound to get plenty of attention tonight for those details alone. The only thing that gave him away as military were his shoes. They were polished to a glossy perfection!

The only one who had gone full-on casual was Soap. He’d gelled his signature mohawk, but otherwise had just grabbed a white short sleeved shirt and a pair of khaki joggers. Comfortable and casual, as always.

As you complimented everyone on their clothing, Price thumped the back of his hand against Ghost’s door. “Get a move on! It’s rude to keep a lady waiting.”

The door opened, and Ghost stomped out, barely glancing at anyone before heading towards the door. His eyes lingered on you with a spark of interest, but he quickly looked away.

“Let’s get this over with,” he grumbled.

Upon seeing him, Soap cringed hard. “Please, tell me you’re not wearing that.”

Ghost clearly hadn’t put an ounce of effort into this. You assumed it was his way of being defiant. Because he was dressed just like he always was. The same dark pants, the same dark top, the same tactical vest. He’d removed all the weapons from their respective pockets (though you wouldn’t be surprised if he still had a few of them hidden on his person somewhere). But otherwise, his appearance had gone unchanged. And, as he turned and crossed his arms, it was evident that it would remain that way.

“Well?” he snapped at Price. “Are we going or not?”

After pinching the bridge of his nose and clenching his jaw, John strode past him and held the door. “Alright, team. Let’s move.”

The team filed into the parking lot, dispersing towards their respective vehicles. Price claimed the passenger seat in Ghost’s jeep, probably to ensure that he actually arrived at your destination. But as for you, Soap, and Alejandro, the three of you were content to ride with König. It had been a stressful day, so you were eager to dance your cares away. And a few drinks would certainly help to keep them away.

Your feelings immediately lifted as König pulled into a parking space, and you heard the thumping beat of music drifting out through the doors of the club. Mere seconds after he'd shut the car off, you were already clambering out of the car.

“Come on!” you grabbed König's hand and started to run, dragging him behind you as you went. “Let’s get this party started!”

Your group slowly filed into the building, slipping into the throng. Making your way through the crowd was surprisingly easy too since all it took was a glance at your group for people to warily step out of your path.

For a moment, you pretended you were a celebrity being escorted by bodyguards. It was silly and childish, but you couldn't help but notice how your group likely appeared to everyone else. A dolled up girl surrounded on all sides by muscular, imposing men. It made you feel safe, almost invincible.

Price cupped his hand to his mouth, shouting to be heard over the noise. "I'll find us a table! But bring me a drink!"

König nodded and the rest of you made your way to the bar. After politely helping you into your seat, König claimed the next bar stool over and gestured towards the bartender. You noticed Ghost push his way past behind you, choosing the stool all the way in the corner. Typical.

The bartender soon rushed over to your group, wiping his hands on a small towel. "What can I get you folks?"

"Bourbon, neat. And a Jagertee, please, if you offer them."

The bartender paused, looking up the unfamiliar drink before nodding. "I think I can make that happen. And for the lovely lady?"

"Just a Long Island, please."

"Perfect, I'll have those right out."

As the bartender turned to wait on Soap and Alejandro, you yelled over the noise at König. "What's a Jagertee?"

He smiled. "A taste of my home! They are quite nice, you'll see!"

After the bartender returned with a drink for each of you and two for König, you all carefully weaved your way across the room to where Price was waving. The sight made you giggle since it wasn't really necessary. At his size and height, he was incredibly easy to pick out from a crowd. He'd secured a handful of round booths. Other plain-clothed military personnel were already huddled around most of them. But Price gestured towards the last one that was still empty. As you all relaxed on the cushioned bench, Price immediately noticed Ghost’s absence. Since a majority of the noise was confined to the other areas of the club, he didn't have to yell when he spoke this time.

"Where's Ghost?" He said, thanking König for the bourbon.

Soap sipped his drink. "Still at the bar."

"Like a scared perrito," Alejandro laughed.

But Price was not amused. "I was very clear that the requirement was to participate. But I'll just keep an eye on him for now."

Ghost POV:

The bartender had loitered on his end of the bar for far too long now, seemingly doing any random task that would keep him there for a while. Ghost knew what he was doing, too. He was trying to stay within earshot in case he wanted to buy himself a drink. But though his brooding presence likely said otherwise, he refused to contribute to the chaos around him. Instead, he was more than content to do a little people watching to pass the time.

The term "people watching" was a bit inaccurate, though. A more appropriate term would have been “person watching”, because he only had his eyes on one person: König’s girl.

It all started when they had come to the bar for drinks. The practiced way she had perched on the bar stool, her hands primly placed in her lap to keep her dress secure. Those were telltale signs of a girl who was wearing a dress that was far too short for her own good.

After she’d gotten her drink, Ghost hadn’t bothered to hide his blatant stare. No one was looking at him anyway. Everyone was either already drunk, preoccupied, or looking elsewhere entirely. So, no one would notice where his eyes happened to wander as she made her way towards the tables. He took a particular interest in the hem of her dress, the way the sway of her hips made it rise tantalizingly high before shifting back into place with her next step. Ghost wasn’t a praying man by any means. But he’d drop to his knees on the spot if some higher power would make her stumble, make her drop something. Anything to get her to accidentally bend over just once. Just for him.

It’s not like it was his fault. Why else would you wear something like that unless you were just begging to be slowly undressed in the mind of every man who crossed your path? And then to actually strip her down? God, what a night that’d be.

Ghost toyed with the fantasy that she’d worn that dress specifically for his secret pleasure. But the thought immediately went sour as envy took the stage. All it had taken to ruin his daydream was Konig placing a steadying hand at the small of her back as they went.

He scowled, seething all over again. What had initially begun as simple jealousy was gradually being stoked to hatred. He fucks the girl Ghost wanted most, him forced to see them constantly enjoying each other's company felt like merciless taunting, and now he couldn’t even dream in peace. It was as if König had planned it that way just to irk him. But as Ghost sat there, mindlessly clenching his fist, he began to plot a devilish little plan of his own. He just had to wait for the perfect opportunity to set it into motion.

Reader POV:

Once you and König had settled into the booth, you took a sip of your beverage and savored the sweet taste as it washed over your tongue. You didn't know just how strong it had been made though. The bartender had perfectly blended the ingredients such that the distinctive tastes of tequila, vodka, and gin were practically imperceptible!

Beside you, König lifted the front of his hood and ducked his drink briefly out of sight. After he did so, he paused before giving a curt nod of approval. Apparently, whoever was bartending was knocking it out of the park tonight! You'd have to be sure to tip him well before the night was over.

König turned towards you, his eyes full of excitement. He gently scooted his drink in your direction. "Would you like to try?"

"Of course!"

You took a hesitant sip, bracing for the sharp taste of alcohol. But you were pleasantly surprised at the flavor! It tasted vaguely of wintertime. You could pick out notes of clove and cinnamon from the rum.

"Wow! König, that's delicious!" You guessed at its contents, but gave up beyond clove, cinnamon, and rum.

"There is also black tea," he offered. "But one more thing too! Try again."

Another sip confirmed his hint. There was a splash of brightness to it, but you couldn't quite put your finger on what it could be. After scrunching up your face in deep thought, you finally surrendered with a shake of your head.

"It's citrus," König whispered, giving you a cute wink before reclaiming his drink. "I wasn't sure if they would make it for me or make it right. But this drink always comforts me. It tastes of my homeland."

The comment suddenly made you wonder what Austria was like. You'd never had the money or time in your schedule for international travel. But the more you got to know him, the more you wanted to see Austria for yourself at least once in your lifetime.

"I'd love to see where you grew up, where you trained.” You said, curious. “I want to see everything!"

"Well, that part is nothing fancy. I started off in JaKdo. But that was a long time ago." Seeing your confusion at the term, he clarified a bit for you. "JaKdo is short for Jagdkommando. It's our Special Forces unit. But what I'd really want to show you is the rest of the country."

"Oh? Paint me a picture."

"It is beautiful there, very peaceful.” His eyes took on a far off look as fond memories resurfaced in his mind. “A lot of green land and pretty mountains. If you ever want to visit, I'd love to show you around. There are churches, lovely music, and even castles!"

"Aw, that sounds like paradise! How could you ever leave a place like that behind?"

"Because you are my paradise now."

He said the words in a matter of fact way, like the response was the most obvious thing in the world. Though he clearly hadn’t intended it in a flirtatious manner, it still made you melt. And he was right. Being with him felt like paradise more and more each passing day.

"You want to see real beauty?" Soap said, downing the rest of his drink. "Come to Scotland. That's where the real beauty is."

"No, it is Austria," König chuckled. "I am certain."

The two squabbled playfully and Soap threw in a few rounds of "Scotland forever" just for good measure.

"Girls, don't fight. You're both pretty, okay?" Price teased. "Besides, we're here to have fun. And if my memory serves me, your girl mentioned a love of dancing."

You nodded, quickly finishing your drink and starting to slide out of the booth. As you went, you grabbed König's hand.

"Oh, um, nein," he gave you a nervous laugh. "I do not dance. There are so many people dancing already."

He anxiously eyed the jostling crowd. There was a brief flash of fear in his eyes as he tugged against your hand to convey he wanted to stay put.

"Here," Price slid his glass of bourbon across the table to König. "They don't call it liquid courage for nothing."

Alejandro did the same.

"Okay," König said, straightening his back as he slipped Price’s drink behind his hood. "I will try."

He cocked his head back before setting the empty glass down on the table.

"Attaboy!" Soap cheered as he finished off Alejandro's drink shortly afterward. "At that rate, you'll be dancing on tables in no time!"

"Sei still," König shot back with a laugh before finally making his way out of the booth behind you.

"You told me to shut up, didn't you? He told me to shut up, didn't he?"

The rest of the group rolled with laughter as the two of you walked hand in hand towards the rowdy dance floor.

You were tempted to join right in, but one glance at König’s slightly panicked eyes told you taking it slow was probably the best idea.

"Here," you said, pulling him to the edge of the crowd. "Just follow the music and follow my lead. You'll get the hang of it."

As the music smoothly transitioned to one of your favorites, you turned your back to him and let the music guide your feet. Maintaining a comforting hand hold with him, you closed your eyes and began to bounce and sway your hips with the pounding rhythm. After a moment you spun back to see how he was doing. And after what you saw, you did your absolute best not to double over in laughter.

Though you hadn't meant it literally, König was obediently following your lead to the letter. He looked down at you for reassurance as he cutely rocked his hips from side to side just like you had been. You almost didn’t want him to stop, it was just too adorable. But behind him, you saw Soap slap his knee and whip out his phone to capture the moment. Luckily, a pointed glare from you was enough to send his phone back into his pocket.

"Are you sure I'm doing this right?" He asked hesitantly.

"You're doing great, babe! But let's try something else."

Taking his hand, you led him a few steps deeper into the group. He didn't need anyone teasing him while he found his feet. His eyes went a bit wider again, and he seemed tense, but you gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

"Don't worry, I won't let you go. I'm right here."

He gave you a nod as his dancing lesson continued.

"Okay. So this time, you leave the hip moves to me. And you stand behind me like this."

You turned, rolling your hips in a classic whine and tugging him against you from behind. Without prompting, his hands found your hips as you began grinding against him in time with the music.

For a good while, König was more than content to stay right where he was. It wasn't long until he found his footing and began to grind back a little himself. But you were caught by surprise when he grabbed you, lifting you clear off the floor as he turned you to face him.

"I think you're getting the hang of this," you giggled, continuing your dance as he moved with you. His eyes were bright but far more relaxed now. And the surrounding skin had a slight flush to it. Clearly, the alcohol had begun to work its magic. If this was only the beginning, then this was going to be a night of fun for sure.

I know this story includes some pretty dark themes. But at the end of the day, I care more about the well-being of my readers than I do for hits or kudos. Period. I never want my writing to conjure up emotions or feelings that negatively impact you beyond the story. This story can be dark and uncomfortable at times. But it is always intended strictly for fun and fantasy. If at any point along the way it stops being a pleasurable experience, please please close this page and walk away. My stories are never worth your well-being, loves.

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

🌶☂️

As your relationship with König continues, you can't help but feel like a crucial part is missing. No matter how creative the approach, König's gentle nature isn't enough to sate your dreams of roughness. And no matter how hard you try, you can't keep Ghost out of your head. Constant memories of how he made you feel, how his hands felt on your body, how quickly you came undone in his grasp. His commanding presence never leaves your mind, and it's beginning to put strain on everyone around you. You long to be dominated, to be claimed with raw passion. And you're all too aware that Ghost could easily fulfill what you crave. All he needs is for you to accept his offer and say yes. But are you really willing to risk it all for a chance at happiness? Or should you be content with what you have with König and settle, always wondering what could have been if you had just said yes?

(Well, I finally did it. Through many tears and much anguish, I have written the ending of the story where the reader breaks König's heart 😭😭😭 For my more sensitive readers, don't worry. This ending does not include any rapey/noncon vibes. And it's happy ending is my personal favorite. But prepare your hearts and bring some Kleenex.... I'm not crying! You're crying!)

Chapter 1 (coming soon!)

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

...

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

🌶

Ghost's behavior keeps throwing you off. One minute, his hands are shoved down your pants. The next, he's acting like he hates your guts. And König seems oblivious to both! But Price's words of wisdom still linger in your mind: "Many things can be hidden behind a mask of anger". So just what is Ghost hiding behind that mask of his? And what does it mean for you?

(Welcome to ending 2! After how I wrote Ghost in Ending 1, I owe you guys some non-villianous behavior from our favorite Ghostie boy. For everyone dreaming of taking both of these big guys (and not in a fight lol), this ending is for you~)

Chapter 1 (coming soon!)

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

...

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

🌶⚠️☂️

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Price is determined to resolve whatever grudge that has come between Ghost and the reader during the visit. But little does he know, Ghost's sentiments towards you goes much deeper than anyone suspected. As he battled between pulling you into his possessive grasp or pushing you away in jealousy, the first wins option begins to win out as Ghost creeps ever closer to his true breaking point. And when he finally snaps, you finally witness just how far he is willing to go to make you his - and only his.

(Buckle up, because we're driving headlong into full-out villain, bad guy Ghost territory here. Do not look for a redemption arc for him here because you won't find one lol.

This will certainly be the darkest of the multiple endings for this story. So, enter with caution. Aftercare will be posted at the end of the spicy/explicit chapters to help calm you back down, should you find the need for it. Happy travels~)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

...

Chapter 10

(Epilogue)

(April Fool's Day Chapter)

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

First of all,...

But it is at this point that we reach a crossroads~

When I first started writing this story, I had a decided direction that I wanted the story to go. But as it developed, I became a bit torn as to how things would eventually end up. I was determined to stay true to my original plot, but there were also various scenes and ideas that I fell in love with that couldn’t quite coexist as I'd like them to. So, instead of denying them a place in the storyline, I have decided to just write all of them lol. So now you get to...

Vote for your top choice, too! I'm always curious to see what my readers like most/want to get their hands on first. If there's a clear winner, I'll be sure to throw it up on this account first with the speed and might of Zeus!

Choose wisely~

(Or don't because yay reading~)